Rich Wulf - Voyage of the Mourning Dawn

Someone down here doesn’t like you much either. Leave!

“Well it’s not as if anything is even going on tonight, Shain,” the watchman who apparently was named Rolf countered. “Nobody in their right mind would be out on a night like tonight.”

Seren had no argument.

“Mmm-hm,” came the other guard’s agreement. She heard the dry hiss of a match striking stone, followed by the faint smell of burning herb.

“No thanks, trying to quit,” Rolf said to some unspoken offer. “Wife can’t stand washing the smoke smell out of my armor.”

“You sure?” said the other. “Karrnathi cigars. They’re the best.”

“Aren’t those expensive?”

“Host, yes,” Officer Shain said. “This pack cost me a week’s pay, but they’re worth it. Finest smoke in Eberron.”

“Doris would kill you if she knew you spent that kind of money on cigars.”

“That’s why I offered you one,” Shain said. “So you don’t tell her.”

A long pause. Thunder cracked overhead, and the stream of rain on Seren’s back came down a bit more forcefully. “Very well, then,” Rolf said. “May as well enjoy ourselves and wait for this rain to die down.”

Seren gritted her teeth and clutched her knees with both arms, trying to preserve what warmth she could. She suspected she had never hated two people as much in her entire life as she did these two watchmen. She shivered uncontrollably. She would have to risk moving out from under the leak and hope they were too stupid to notice. If she stayed here any longer they would hear her teeth chatter anyway. She crawled slowly, looking up at the guards as the water fell gently on the street. Seren scowled. Somehow it irritated her that they didn’t even notice the sound after she’d suffered so much not to draw any attention. Shaking her head, she began to crawl deeper into the alley.

A sudden shudder passed through her and, despite her best efforts to control herself, she sneezed. Seren slapped herself in the face.

“Who goes there?” Rolf shouted, holding up his lantern and flooding the alley with light.

“Show yourself!” said Shain.

Seren peered back and tried her best to look innocent, which she found a somewhat difficult prospect crawling on her hands and knees in a garbage strewn alley at night during a thunderstorm. She held out her hands so that they could see she held no weapons and slowly rose, turning to face them. She made sure to keep her hood’s shadows over her face but held her cloak open so they could see the rest of her. Watchmen, especially young watchmen, tended to be a bit more easily distracted when they saw she was a girl. Sure enough, Officer Shain stopped wrestling with his crossbow strap and left the weapon hanging at his belt.

“Who are you?” Rolf demanded. “Why are you hiding?”

“There’s a simple explanation,” Seren said, keeping a charming lilt in her voice despite her chattering teeth.

Rolf lowered his lantern a bit and looked at her warily. “What is it?”

Seren pretended to sneeze to buy time. She couldn’t think of anything they’d be likely to believe, but at least she had stalled long enough to stand up and get a good look at them. Both guards were somewhat overweight and wore the cumbersome chain mail that was part of their typical uniform. They still hadn’t seen her face. Seren doubled over in a fake sneezing fit, then heaved the rain barrel at their legs and ran off through the alleys.

“Get her!” Rolf cried, jumping back as the heavy barrel rolled past. The clang of a loud bell followed as he did everything he could to summon his fellow watchmen.

Seren wove and ducked as she ran, trying to present a small and random target. She didn’t expect the guards to shoot their crossbows, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Lightning crashed overhead, throwing the alleys into a flash of daylight brilliance. In that moment of clarity she saw a mounted watchman in the intersection ahead, looking toward the clamor. Not willing to attempt outrunning a horse, Seren stopped abruptly and ran back to an unmarked door she had passed.

Well, that was what she intended to do, at least. In reality she tried to turn and found the rain slicked alley unwilling to cooperate. Her feet slipped out from under her and she skidded through the mud and garbage to stop near the horseman. She looked up at the point of a hastily drawn sword and tried to smile demurely. Given that she was flat on her back and covered with filth, the guard was unimpressed.

“Stop her!” Rolf cried, running up behind her.

“She’s stopped herself, Officer Rolf,” the horseman said.

Seren scowled and staggered to her feet. This time, the three watchmen surrounded her. Officer Shain had his crossbow drawn. Rolf still held his lantern and bell. He leaned heavily against a wall, struggling to catch his breath. Ironically, it was at that point that the storm faded into a drizzle, ending as quickly as it had begun.

“What’s this all about?” the mounted guard asked, looking at Rolf curiously.

“She was acting suspicious, Sergeant Narem,” Rolf said. “She rolled a barrel at us. Probably a thief.”

“Search her,” Narem commanded.

Well used to the ritual, Seren sighed and held her arms up, away from her body. At least in her current filthy state, perhaps the guard would enjoy this as little as she did. Officer Shain put his crossbow away and began to pat her down. Seren grimaced. The way he pressed against her, she realized the dirt wasn’t doing a great deal to dissuade him.

“Can I at least have a cigar so I enjoy this too?” she asked.

“Quiet, you,” Sergeant Narem said. “Shain, go easy or I’m telling Doris,” he added in a gentler voice.

The other watchman looked embarrassed and mumbled an apology.

“Hello, what’s this?” said a bright voice with an elegant Lhazaarite accent. “A little midnight justice? What drama unfolds in the weary, rain-soaked roadways of Wroat?”

The watchmen looked to the sound of the voice. Seren peered over her shoulder as well, though she kept her hands raised. A young man stepped out of the shadows of an awning, greeting them with a broad smile. He was dressed in a long blue coat and fine black cloak. His sandy brown hair was tied back by a think leather cord, and a thin pair of spectacles sat perched upon his nose. He wore a sword at his belt in the manner of a gentleman, though he kept his hand away from the hilt so as not to upset the guards.

“My, this is more dangerous than I first suspected,” the man said, eyes widening as his gaze met Seren’s. “Three watchmen band together to arrest a fifteen-year-old girl?”

“Nineteen,” Seren said tersely.

“My apologies, my lady, but one day I think you will treasure such underestimations,” the man said. He looked back to the guards. “But clearly this is even worse than I suspected. Four years more experience than I thought-all the more reason for caution. Are you certain you three can handle her? I am no citizen of your fair city, but I would be pleased to offer you my modest sword arm for the cause of justice, if deputies are required. I would be proud to participate in such a heroic confrontation.”

“You’re not funny,” Rolf growled. “Move on, stranger.”

“What’s in this bag?” Officer Shain asked, tugging at the sack at her hip.

“Book,” Seren said. She looked straight ahead and kept her voice and posture bored, hoping this would soon be over. She had no doubt that if they saw the seal on that book’s cover, it certainly would be.

“A scholar!” the man interrupted again. “She is obviously a student of some local university. Is this how Wroat’s watchmen encourage Breland’s youth? No wonder this neighborhood is in such a sorry state.”