On maps, some maps anyway, there is a spot where mapmakers usually write the label Pitgorm. A tavern and trading post stands there under the “g”—in the south of the dale halfway between the Forbidden and Gaulaghast mountains. They’re one building, a large building as these things go in the region, with no name or sign. It doesn’t need one; after all, not much is there. When outsiders say they are going to Pitgorm, that is where they go. The locals call it many things depending on their mood, but mostly it’s Janden’s place. The owner, Janden Gruffudd, and the woman who warms his bed, Rose, eke out a living trading goods and selling food and drinks—more drinks than food.
Durf could see the steep thatched roof and whitewashed wattle and daub walls …show more content…
“Sure, your pastries are always good, and we never bake any of our own.”
When Gaurn got close, Janden turned his head and lifted his chin toward the pair of strangers.
“Saw them when we came in. Who are they? What business have they up here?” said Gaurn softly.
He leaned against the end of the bar so he could take the measure of the strangers without being rude. Durf brought his sweets and stood between Gaurn and Janden leaving Rose standing on the other side of Janden. He wanted to be one of the men and not a child staying with the women.
The strangers had their cloaks pulled close with the hoods hiding their faces as they ate and talk with the occasional furtive glance around as if they were sharing a deep secret. It was warm, at least warm enough, that they didn’t need to wear their cloaks.
“What do you make of ‘em?” asked Janden in a hushed voice.
“Not from Morgnocktan. Although, they look a little like Morganites,” responded Gaurn.
“They’re not from any part of Dweorgkryg. Don’t look like any Dweorg I’ve known. Too tall. The short one I reckon half and five feet. The taller one is maybe a couple hands more. Not from Vogorbek. They’re not big enough for a …show more content…
Outlaws go north and get into the forest from time to time. None survive unless the Faefolk or the wild Wodewise help ‘em,” said Janden. “If demons don’t get ‘em, the winter does. Not likely they’d find a prisoner. Less likely they’d get him out of the dale. But, that could be whence they come.”
“If the royal court is paying, whoever they’re looking for must be important—more than a common outlaw. Did they say anything? Ask questions? Or give their names?” asked Gaurn.
“Aye, they asked what we had to eat and drink. The tall one with stringy black hair called himself Kibby, and the other, stockier one, is Slagg.”
“The Kibby sounds familiar and not good.”
In a normal voice, Janden said, “Let’s go into the warehouse and settle our business. Rose, keep an eye here. We won’t be long or out of ear shout.”
Rose nodded and gave them a little smile—a little bigger one to Durf.
Gaurn motioned with his arm, “Durf, take the wagon up to the double doors.” He and Janden passed from tavern to the warehouse through an inner door.
The three of them made quick work of unloading. And it wasn’t much longer for Gaurn and Janden to agree on price and load supplies to take back. Janden, being anxious to get back to the bar, was quite
Durf could see the steep thatched roof and whitewashed wattle and daub walls …show more content…
“Sure, your pastries are always good, and we never bake any of our own.”
When Gaurn got close, Janden turned his head and lifted his chin toward the pair of strangers.
“Saw them when we came in. Who are they? What business have they up here?” said Gaurn softly.
He leaned against the end of the bar so he could take the measure of the strangers without being rude. Durf brought his sweets and stood between Gaurn and Janden leaving Rose standing on the other side of Janden. He wanted to be one of the men and not a child staying with the women.
The strangers had their cloaks pulled close with the hoods hiding their faces as they ate and talk with the occasional furtive glance around as if they were sharing a deep secret. It was warm, at least warm enough, that they didn’t need to wear their cloaks.
“What do you make of ‘em?” asked Janden in a hushed voice.
“Not from Morgnocktan. Although, they look a little like Morganites,” responded Gaurn.
“They’re not from any part of Dweorgkryg. Don’t look like any Dweorg I’ve known. Too tall. The short one I reckon half and five feet. The taller one is maybe a couple hands more. Not from Vogorbek. They’re not big enough for a …show more content…
Outlaws go north and get into the forest from time to time. None survive unless the Faefolk or the wild Wodewise help ‘em,” said Janden. “If demons don’t get ‘em, the winter does. Not likely they’d find a prisoner. Less likely they’d get him out of the dale. But, that could be whence they come.”
“If the royal court is paying, whoever they’re looking for must be important—more than a common outlaw. Did they say anything? Ask questions? Or give their names?” asked Gaurn.
“Aye, they asked what we had to eat and drink. The tall one with stringy black hair called himself Kibby, and the other, stockier one, is Slagg.”
“The Kibby sounds familiar and not good.”
In a normal voice, Janden said, “Let’s go into the warehouse and settle our business. Rose, keep an eye here. We won’t be long or out of ear shout.”
Rose nodded and gave them a little smile—a little bigger one to Durf.
Gaurn motioned with his arm, “Durf, take the wagon up to the double doors.” He and Janden passed from tavern to the warehouse through an inner door.
The three of them made quick work of unloading. And it wasn’t much longer for Gaurn and Janden to agree on price and load supplies to take back. Janden, being anxious to get back to the bar, was quite