Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 3 - The Wolf and Halberd

Eloi soon found a nice grotty room in a cheap inn in the Tarskling. The Hanged Man may not have been patronised by quality clientele, but with drink and doxies on tap, it was Eloi's idea of home. As he paid for his room in advance, he realised that he had forgotten to relieve that fool paladin of his money before he left. Undoubtedly he would soon have frittered it away on some lost cause or another. It was a blessing that he had been called away to battle when he had, for although Eloi felt as close to gratitude as he ever had, he feared another day with the sanctimonious do-gooder would lead to his untimely demise.
Eloi drank and played cards, winning easily that night against the unsuspecting locals. Celebrating long into the night, he even managed to bait one poor drunken soul into a fight. The fool pulled a knife, but he had easily side-stepped his slow lunge, and kicked him within an inch of his life, before relieving him of all his possessions and throwing him naked into the street. His new leather boots fitted quite well too!
Near to midnight, a familiar face came into the bar. A dandy half-elf named Kro whom Eloi knew from the port of Fax, where Kro had been a wine merchant. During the day anyway! Eloi had run into him earlier that afternoon, and Kro had told him how he had thought it prudent to move to the Keoish capital after a little ‘misunderstanding’ with a Guildmaster in Fax.
He saw Eloi and walked, rather unsteadily despite being supported by a buxom wench, over to his table.
"Ahhh, I was looking for you," he slurred, "been round most every pub in the Tarskling to see where you ended up."
He looked as if he took a drink in each one too!
He beckoned Eloi over to a quiet corner booth, sending the wench away with a silver Rittern for her troubles.
"I'm going out of town for a few days, a bit of trouble with my suppliers down south in Gradsul. Anyway, this job's come up, and since I couldn't manage it I thought you may enjoy the work."
Eloi nodded, and asked for more details. Kro was silent as the serving wench brought over two flagons of ale, then walked away again.
"There is a man named Farred attending to a very secret meeting here in Niole Dra tomorrow night. This Farred is a lieutenant in the Orgsworth thieves guild in Gradsul, and he is coming to meet a lieutenant in the Keisling thieves guild, to arrange support in the way of arms and manpower, for an attempt by the Orgsworth to take over their neighbouring Docklands guild. The client is a pip for the Docklands, and he wants to make sure that this Farred never makes it to the meeting. He cannot go through the local guild or the assassins for obvious reasons, and he doesn't want Farred killed. Not yet anyway.”
“What he wants is for you to give him a sleeping draft before eight o'clock, to make sure he is unconscious for the rest of the night, so that the client can go to the meeting and arrange help against the Orgsworth. Farred will be travelling incognito with two bodyguards, so you will have to find him first. However, what we do know is that they will be staying in the Wolf and Halberd inn, here in the Tarskling, tomorrow night. The fee for this job is a thousand Merkke, payable only if Farred does not make it to the meeting, half that if you have to kill him."
Eloi thought hard for a split second before beaming out a broad grin at Kro. “I think I could fit that in all right!”

Akhan had wandered down to the Tarskling area for a bit of slumming. A few drinks, a game of cards, and the next thing he found himself waking up in a strange bed in a strange room with a strange woman.
Strange!
He quickly gathered that all three were paid for! He seemed to have won a small amount, having over a hundred Merkke now, despite the hangover telling him that he had also spent a lot!
The whore let him know that he was in the 'Wolf and Halberd Inn', a fine establishment in the Tarskling. There was apparently a good card game here each night, and it would seem he had paid for this room, and the woman, for another three nights
Akhan felt a lot better after his bout of hedonism! Finding Aranon and the others could wait, no doubt they would be looking for him soon anyway.
The game proper usually started after dinner, so he had just enough time to wash and to fill his groaning belly before venturing back into the Keisling area. He saw there were a few locals playing already, having their money taken by some fearsome-looking half-orc card shark, so he decided to go about his task with haste, lest the fool had left with all their money before he returned. As he looked for a reputable jeweller, the incorrigible Jeremius Brak spotted him and rushed over to speak.
"Mr. Akhan, I have a message from my lord for you. He says could you travel to the town of Flen and meet him there after about a week. He will be finished his business then."
Akhan agreed and brushed him off, excusing himself with a headache, which was not exactly untrue.
He soon found a jeweller that could make the kind of patch he wanted, but he demanded four hundred Merkke for it. This gave Akhan good reason for his intentions, and after putting down the required deposit, he headed back to the inn, where he sat with a bowl of soup, waiting for the game to begin. There was already a game going, but only locals with little money, and not worth his effort
As he waited he mused over his effort in the Dark Wars - they had hardly been fruitful for him so far as personal wealth was concerned. Then again, earning money had never been his problem - keeping hold of it, now there was the trick he had yet to learn!

After a few winning rounds, Eloi had decided to leave the game, before he became noticeable with his winnings. His excuses were graciously, and perhaps gratefully, accepted by the locals. He had few enough details on this ‘Farred’ as it was, so an early start was imperative if he was to get the job done right.
He walked over to a table where a merchant and his guards were seated, and bought a round of drinks as he asked them if they minded company. They were pleasant enough, and soon a stranger would have thought the four had known each other for life, as Eloi turned his gambling gains to his purpose in round after round of drinks. The merchant was named Halykk, and even his bodyguards were a friendly pair. They seemed to know Niole Dra quite well, as Halykk, in the shipping business, was here to finalise a deal with a cloth merchant from the city. The deal was to transfer the cloth for this merchant from his store in Gradsul up the Sheldomar to his store in the city. In fact he would be meeting the merchant later tonight at his shop in order to finalise their deal.
Interested by the story, Eloi casually dropped the word Orgsworth harmlessly into conversation to see if this would elicit a response. Halykk said he knew the Orgsworth area quite well, being the warehouse area near to the docks of his native Gradsul. Eloi gathered that he was of the nouveau riche category, as despite his reasonable wealth he still seemed to enjoy the company, and the pleasures, of the common man.
Satisfied that they were innocent travellers, Eloi decided to turn his attentions to a man standing at the bar. Leaving Halykk, he walked up to the man and slapped him lightly on the back.
"Cheer up my friend, let me buy you a drink."
The man seemed surprised at the offer, asking Eloi if they’d met before, but then nervously accepted and Eloi bought him a beer. He did not seem too intelligent from his small talk - Eloi thought he may be a simpleton, and the innkeeeper seemed to be eyeing him suspiciously.
Two gnomes and a dwarf entered the inn from the front, walking up to the bar. The gnomes were joking and laughing as they ordered three large whiskies. The dwarf seemed sterner than the other two, and unlike them he wore chain mail armour, and carried a battle-axe. All three seemed dusty from the trail, and Eloi got a good look at them as they sat briefly, finishing their drinks before heading upstairs to their rooms.
As they headed up, three men whom Eloi had seen earlier, when he came into the inn, came back down from their rooms upstairs. Two men, soldier-types, blocked the doorway to prevent the gnomes from going up, and to allow their charge, another man, to go through the door. This impolite treatment irritated the dwarf, as he tightened the his grip on his axe, but the first gnome shot him a glance and he backed off.
As they entered the bar, Eloi could get a better look at the three men now. They were all clearly of Sueloise origin which was in itself unusual, as Keoland was such a melting pot that there were few of pure race in these lands. That was not to say it was unlikely though, as the Keoish folk had a strong Suel strain in them, especially their royal line, but pure-breeds of any race were uncommon.
The leader of the three was slightly taller than the two soldiers, and his platinum-blond hair was very distinctive. His dress on the other hand was a plain brown robe, with a belt on which there hung a reasonably ornate, but not outstanding, dagger. His bodyguards had blond hair, and carried short swords at their sides. The three moved to a table near to the fire and sat there, one of the guards calling on a serving wench, rather bluntly and impolitely, to bring them some food. He had a very unusual accent, one Eloi had not heard before!
The simpleton was asking Eloi if he liked boats.
"'Cos I like boats, I know lots of different boats, there are big boats and small boats, some have sails, and there are barges and clippers and men-o-war, and galleons with oars, but I like the riverboats best, they are nice and the people that sail them let me on sometimes and I get to sail on them..."
Eloi pointed slowly to the three men. "Those men look like the sailing type. I am sure that they would have a fine boat that they would no doubt be willing to show you if you asked them. Why don't you speak to them?"
The simpleton screwed his face up, and hid it between his hands.
"No way," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Them are bad men. Bad, bad men."
Eloi seemed to have upset him somewhat, and he turned away
One of the serving wenches, a busty one at that, walked purposefully over to Eloi - not too bad looking, he’d certainly had far worse before!
"Why don't you come upstairs with me, lover boy, and let's see if we can't think up how to spend those winnings!"
Straight to the point, again, just how Eloi liked them.
He turned to the simpleton, giving him a silver Rittern from his winnings and asked him, quietly, to keep an eye on the three men while he was gone, promising four more coins on his return, and telling him to interrupt Eloi if they made a move to leave the inn. He then happily followed the wench upstairs to make use of her services.
A few minutes later, as he lay panting on the bed, Eloi spilled ten Merkke onto the blanket before her.
“The three men by the fire are up to no good, and I have been sent to sabotage their nefarious deeds,” he explained. “The leader has been sent by the Horde to carry out a recce of the city and must report to his paymasters this evening. If he does not make this meeting, the Horde will consider that the town is too well defended, and will not consider it a feasible target. Would you be prepared to help?”
She seemed a bit wary. “And what do I do for such a sum?”
It suddenly dawned on Eloi that this was over a year’s salary for this girl.
“I wish you to put this liquid,” he said, producing the vial given him by Kro, “Into the next drink that their leader orders. You must make sure that it is his drink and not one of the other two.”
"How do I know that you are not an assassin, and this is not poison!"
Eloi smiled, saying, “Now do I look that type m’dear?”
“Yes,” she said bluntly, scooping the coins from the bed, “But I’ll do it anyway.”
Eloi grinned at her. “The other half after the act,” he said. “Follow me down in a minute.”
He pulled on his clothes, then headed downstairs, slightly out of puff.
“I need a bit more practice at that,” he thought to himself as he entered the bar.

Akhan noticed the young man, who looked like a simpleton, sat at the far end of the bar, keenly watching a trio of men seated near the fire, eating their dinner. They seemed unaware of his attentions. The watched men appeared to be a leader, and two guards who were dressed in the same, almost nondescript, uniform. They talked in hushed tones, speaking common with a thick accent Akhan did not recognise.
Next to them sat a merchant, whom his two bodyguards called Halykk, and the bodyguards. This trio were very relaxed, eating, drinking and getting very merry. It would seem that Halykk’s life was one big party.
Close by, too close for his comfort, sat two city guardsmen, who seemed to be keeping the rowdy element to a minimum. They were eating and having a good bucket too, services for which they did not appear to be paying.
The half-orc card shark from earlier re-entered the bar from the upstairs area, slightly out of breath. He went up to the bar near to the simpleton and ordered them both a drink. A minute later, unnoticed by the others, a serving wench also came in from the bedroom area, her cheeks slightly red. That explained the half-orc's condition!
Strangely, the half-orc and the wench seemed to be paying attention to the three Sueloise men too.
“Akhan!” an unknown voice yelled from behind. He turned to the card table, where some man he had never seen before was hailing him. “Come, let me earn my money back tonight, I am feeling very lucky!”
With a grin Akhan got up, signalling the innkeep for a round of drinks, and went over to relieve these fools of more money. He noticed the half-orc heading towards the door of the inn, his pleasures here now over undoubtedly. A short time into the game, he let them have a taste of what was to come, although on the whole he gave an easy start, so that their night was entertaining and educational.
Suddenly the merchant Halykk swiped his table clear, and grasped his throat with his right hand, flailing around with the other. The serving wench went over to him and tried to help. The two bodyguards seemed very concerned, unlike the three Sueloise, who did not bat an eyelid.
Halykk's face was turning bright red, and the others seemed unable to help him.

Eloi had been shocked to see Kro’s face peering at him from behind the door, and knew something was amiss. As he headed out the door, towards Kro’s carriage, a thousand thoughts span through his head, all of them golden and bearing the Keoish King’s head!
As Eloi closed the carriage door behind him, Kro bent over and said, in whispered but serious tones, "Please tell me you haven't done it yet!?”
Eloi looked at him in surprise. From inside the inn, he heard the loud, bellowing laughter of the merchant Halykk.
“We have been tricked and I suspect foul play. There is no meeting with the Keisling guild, and I don't think those men are from Gradsul! Something is terribly wrong!"
The words of the serving wench flooded back to Eloi with a haunting sinister echo. "How do I know that you are not an assassin, and this is not poison!"
Sprinting from the carriage Eloi ran over to inn. He opened the door slightly, peering nervously in. The merchant's laughter had stopped, and there is a bit of a hush, albeit not silence, within.
Looking in he could see quite a few persons gathered around Halykk, who was clutching at his throat, turning a funny shade of purple and waving his free hand about in the air.
His targets seemed to be getting slightly spooked by this, watching with great interest, but not having moved from their seats.
“Oh no,” he thought as he rushed back to Kro, “The stupid trollop’s poisoned the wrong man!”

Akhan noticed the stew Halykk was eating, bones and all, and from the looks of it he had swallowed the bone. The crowd seemed unaware of this and he was now turning purple, and had stopped flailing around so much.
“Something doesn't feel right about this situation,” Akhan thought to himself, “but it'd be a shame to see a potential mark die in front of me. Besides I might actually have won all of last night's money from this bloke. Oh well, I might regret this but I'll give him a slap on the back. And I better keep one eye open for those Sueloise - I don't like the look of those three. Shit, I've only got one eye now...”
Akhan bounded over to the table where Halykk was choking to death.
He shouted to the bodyguards, "Quick you dipshits, he’s choking on a bone!”
The two bodyguards, obviously too closely related, just stood there gaping like the rest of the cretins.
Akhan started thumping mightily on Halykk's back, attempting to keep watch on the three suspicious men at the fire. He gave one almighty thump and the merchant coughed the bone five feet away, bouncing it off his bodyguard's forehead. He immediately started gasping for breath.
The silence that had come over the inn at this event broke, and the general uproar now continued. Halykk, looking slightly red, was wolfing down his ale. The body guard picked up the piece of bone, and handed it to Halykk, who threw it back at him angrily.

As he opened the carriage door, mouth agape, Eloi heard the shouting from within, then before he was able to tell Kro the disastrous news, there was a roar of laughter. Kro impatiently pushed past the gaping Eloi and went into the bar. As he glanced around, he noticed a young half-elf he recognised - Akhan!
Eloi came back in after Kro, cautiously at first, then looked over to Halykk, the wench, and then the trio of Sueloise.
"Hahaha, you nearly bought it there Halykk!" one of the guards roared. "And to die choking on his grub!"
As Eloi looked to the three Suel, he saw their leader lift his flagon and put it to his mouth. Suddenly he shouted, "My friend, do not drink from that cup, instead let me purchase for you and your fine colleagues the most expensive drink that a place like this might have," quickly moving closer to their leader as he spoke.
"I do not drink with your kind, Schkarksigh!" the Suel snarled.
Eloi had no idea what a ‘Schkarksigh’ was, or even what language he was speaking, but he did not think it sounded complementary!
The man’s two guards rose to their feet, menacingly. Eloi approached their leader open handed in a gesture of friendship and openness, stating in a quiet, but harsh, tone of voice, "Sir, you dis...”
One of the soldiers jumped into a fighting stance, ending Eloi’s well-planned speech, and put his hand on his sword, saying firmly, "Back off, Schkarksigh, you heard his answer!"
Everyone in the inn had risen to their feet, many fingering what weapons they carried, Akhan with his hands firmly on Kagnstir, and one eye on the door. There was another momentary silence.

Bermen was humming one of his favourite Dwarven battle songs as he strolled into the bar from his bedroom. Then he noticed the silence in the room, and that everyone in the inn had risen to their feet, hands on their weapons.
A half-orc nearby had produced a footman's flail and stood poised to attack a soldier, who was also in a fighting stance, and a strange stance at that.
The soldier’s companion was also drawing his sword and made towards the half-orc to attack him. Their master rose to his feet and took two steps back from the table.
Two city guards also got to their feet, hands on their swords, and moved clear of their table, but did not appear to be intending to interfere in the trouble.
The barman had ducked behind the bar, presumably going for some sort of weapon.
“Just what I need,” Bermen thought as he watched the stand-off. “As if a battle's not enough these toe-rags have to have a barroom brawl!”
With his deepest, loudest shout, Bermen screamed, “Hold!”
He glared around the assembled company, fixing all those who looked belligerent with steely a disapproving look.
“Put up your weapons and desist ye rabble,” he commanded. ”Have we just fought a battle simply to be able to cut each others throats? Let us put quarrels aside for the present. Either that or face imprisonment by these good city guardsmen.”
Bermen pointed to the two guardsmen.
The would-be combatants paid him no heed.
“Ah, those guardsmen look about as aggressive as an elven dick," he thought. "To hell with these bloody civvies.”
Bermen drew his massive bastard sword with mounting abandon, shouting, ”I said desist ye bloody morons!”
Now everyone within the room was looking at him! Slowly all the weapons were lowered and put away. Bermen finally returned the massive Gottflinder to its scabbard.
“Hmm,” he mused. “Bit of the Zladek steel on the horizon never fails to get rid of any shiters. Wonder if the landlord's got any messages for me.”
Bermen made his way through the inn to the bar, taking his time about it in case anyone should want to discuss things further. Like with a knife in the back.

As Eloi put away his flail, he said to the leader, “Sir, I have been wandering these parts today looking for new lodgings whilst I await the return of my comrade in arms. Whilst in a far lesser establishment than this, this morning, I overheard two brigands explaining how they wished to poison a gentlemen who fits your description, who would be staying at lodgings within Tarskling along with his bodyguards. I thought no more of it until I came into this establishment.”
“At first I thought that this gentleman was the victim,” he continued, pointing to Halykk. “His choking incident recalled the brigands conversation to my humble mind and I suddenly realised that you may be the intended target. I therefore beg that you do not drink from that cup lest it be poisoned, and sincerely hope that you have not ingested some slow acting poison in the drink and food this evening before I bravely stepped in to stop you."
The leader looked briefly at the mug of wine on the table before him. He paused for a second, before swiping it from the table. Turning to the nearest serving wench he said, “A round of drinks for us and our new acquaintance, your finest wine.”
The Suel continued, "My name is Shabass T'Lan and I am a priest of Lendor, master of Time. Tell me good sir, who are you and what is your business here?”
"Sir I am a scout for the army," Eloi explained to Shabass T'Lan. “I am presently awaiting the return of my friend Jean-Paul d'Appignon who has been called away on noble and heroic business.” There was more than a hint of sarcasm in Eloi’s voice as he said this.
“He saved me from a rather disturbing encounter with an Ogre,” he continued, “from the rampaging horde and I am currently resting my wounds and frail heart with people after my own good heart."
The noise within the bar, and the nearby poker game, had resumed.
Eloi raised his wine glass and proposed a toast. "To our noble victory against the Dark Hordes."
He could see a half-elf with the feathered hat whom he had briefly noticed earlier, standing with Kro near to the door. They were talking as though they knew each other. Catching his eye, Kro motioned that they should be leaving.
“My friend,” Eloi said heartily, “I could sit here for hours exchanging stories, but my business associate appears to require my attentions. I bid you farewell and hope you have an enjoyable and uneventful stay in Tarskling".
As Eloi rose from his seat, mirrored by the two guards, Shabass said, "Of course, of course, and again many thanks for his help. I am sure our paths will cross again."
The priest beamed out a slightly false smile, and Eloi could not help but feel uneasy as he turned his back to walk over to Kro and the Half-elf. He also couldn’t help but notice that the stranger who stopped the fight was watching him from the bar.

"Where'd you find the half-orc then Kro?” Akhan asked smugly. “All this wine business poofery giving you a taste for the rougher end of the rent-boy market?"
Perhaps Kro would have been offended had someone else said it, but he knew Akhan and his tormenting style of humour. Still, even with friends he knew the half-elf showed little discretion, and got too close to the mark for comfort. Undoubtedly a few of his duelling scars came from such comments.
"Quite to the contrary," he replied rather dryly. "He is of our trade, cousin, and is unbotching-up a job I made a mess of. Did it rather well too, methinks!"
The half-orc had left the Suels and was walking over to them now. Akhan turned back to Kro.
"What are you doing here in the Armpit of Niole Dra anyway? This bunch don't have very much worth stealing, although there's not a bad little line in card games. Feeling lucky? How 'bout the half-orc? He any more lucky at cards than he is at saving people's lives?"
"Come, Akhan," Kro said condescendingly, "you really must start to think of grander things than pinching pennies from peoples' pockets! We're not doing too bad here at the moment, considering Fax is still surrounded by Dark Hordes from the Pomarj. And as for Eloi, I think it may be a mistake to think he's a pushover at cards - very much to the contrary in fact. I've not often seen him lose! However, we really must be going now."
Eloi grunted as he passed the half-elf, looking to Kro for an introduction.
"Eloi Brand, meet Akhan Bherruliann, another master of our trade, and a fellow card-player I might add," Kro said.
He kept eyeing the door as he spoke as if to emphasise that he wished to be out of this place. Akhan seemed to delight in keeping him here a while longer.
"I hail from Nyrond originally myself, though my estranged family now call that festering pit of Dyvers 'home'. From where do you hail, master Eloi?" the exquisite half-elf enquired.
Eloi glanced him up and down. This Akhan resembled nothing so much as a tailor's dummy. He was wearing an expensive-looking violet waistcoat with gold braid at the pockets, and his breeches were black with a crimson fire motif down the seams. His violet brimmed hat was perched on his head at an angle, as if it were permanently attached to his head. However the most eye-catching feature was an incongruously scuffed-looking eye patch over his right eye.
The hint of stubble confirmed his half-olven heritage. Definitely not from his Olven half was the sharp and pervasive sense of sardonic humour, which often got him into trouble, and his passion for gambling, which always got him into even more trouble!
"I am originally from Crockport, master Akhan," the half-orc replied. His dirty, unkempt and 'lived-in' look did not impress the foppish half-elf. "Although I do not know of my true heritage, my parents died when I was but an infant. Career-wise, I am, lets say, an entrepreneur."
He turned to Kro and winked openly. "I acquire things that people want and dispose of things they don't. A philanthropist you might say. I have been acting unofficially as a scout for our armies and fell foul of a seriously pissed-off Ogre, only to saved from what might be considered certain death by an idealistic idiot of a Paladin, Jean-Paul D'Appisshead or something. Now I can't seem to get rid of the fool. Still he has been called away on his Paladiny duties, something duly heroic. Who knows he might get a shag out of it if he's lucky, might loosen his tight arse a bit. He expects me to be waiting for him when he returns from his endeavours, but I expect to be long gone before then."
Akhan laughed heartily and slapped the half-orc lightly across the back, yelling, "Well met, Eloi Brand. Kro here speaks well of you and tells me that among your manifold talents you are a card player of some accomplishment. Perhaps we could indulge ourselves in a relaxing hand or two over some of Kro's more palatable wines? I suppose we could discuss absent acquaintances of a serious-minded nature too if we really had to."
Akhan gazed intently at the half-orc, as though studying him with great intent. "Anyone involved in our business of covert backstabbing and spying is worth knowing about," he thought. "I wonder where he's been dabbling in intrigue up till now. What's his allegiance too?"
"Well met, a colleague of Kro's is always worth meeting,” Eloi retorted. "I can think of nothing more pleasant this evening than to spend it in the company of friends. I must admit that after this evenings events I am in much need of a bucket. I do believe you owe me a major favour my friend. I hope one day to be in a position to collect.”
Kro smiled unconvincingly and just nodded softly. "I'll get you out in my carriage."
Kro looked pretty much like the wine merchant he was - or at least, that he wanted everyone to think he was! Both the half-elf and half-orc knew of his exploits as a cat-burglar - and neither understood his enjoyment of the game to the extent that he didn't steal for money, not needing to, but for the thrill! Both Akhan and Eloi stole only to maintain their chosen lifestyles - Akhan for his gambling losses, and Eloi for the debauchery he relished.
"Gents, if you'll excuse me briefly, I just have to nip upstairs to my room and collect my cloak, " Akhan declared. " I won't be long."
The half-elf strode off towards the door to the stairs and Eloi passed ten Merkke to the serving wench, muttering, "You know what for", and winking. All he received in reply was a cold stare.

"Landlord,” Bermen said, “Has anyone enquired after me while I have been out? And get me an ale by the way - I'm parched."
The innkeep informed him there were no messages, and turned to pour him a crusty pint of his darkest ale.
“I wonder what those Elgarchin by the door are up to?” Bermen thought, using the Drow curse Eldrave had taught him, amongst other things. “The one with the patch looks particularly untrustworthy. I'm sure it was him that was making all that infernal racket last night. Hope the little bastard isn't staying here!”
Again turning to the innkeeper, Bermen said, "Sir, the one-eyed half-elf by the door? Is he intending to stay at his premises much longer as I have to say I may reconsider staying here if he is. I don't mind a certain amount of singing but that bawling last night sounded like someone was
strangling a cat."
Recognising the difference between a gripe and a question, the barman did not speak, placing the flagon of ale in front of the captain and taking his copper Fennigs in payment. As usual the Captain overpaid. As usual, the innkeep did not point this out to him. He was obviously used to costlier places than this, and what the likes of him was doing here, he did not know.
Bermen leaned on the bar, surveying those present, and frowning absent-mindedly at the two half-elves by the door. They were soon joined by the half-orc, and the half-elf without a hat appeared to introduce the one with the hat to the half-orc. The one-without-hat stood up and drew his cloak about him. The one-with-hat walked over towards him, the half-orc going to the fireplace. Bermen noticed briefly that the other three from the earlier altercation had been remarkably quiet since then.
Bermen turned to the barman as the one-with-hat approached him.
"A bowl of soup, good man!" he said to the innkeep.
The innkeep replied "Right away, Cap'n" and motioned to one of the wenches to get his soup.
Bermen watched as the one-with-hat returned, now wearing his cloak, and they left the inn.
The Suel trio rose to their feet - the leader-type muttered slowly in a strange language, and one of his bodyguards, not the one that was initially facing off to the half-orc, drew his cloak and headed for the front door. The other two walked off upstairs. In the general noise and activity that returned to the inn, all of this was lost to the other patrons.
The one at the door opened it a crack, then paused for a moment. He then opened it fully and slipped quietly outside.
Curiosity aroused, Bermen left the bar and followed the Suel outside.

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