Steven Schend: Blackstaff Tower

Renaer grabbed the cloak off its peg and swung it around his shoulders as he shoved open the door. The smell of hay and horse manure wafted around him as he closed the door behind him. He waved to Pelar, the groom, who was brushing down Ash, Renaer's favorite stallion. While all the servants answered to Madrak, not all were halflings related to him. By necessity, the grooms were humans capable of handling the larger animals.

Renaer spotted two strangers standing a few paces to his left by the servants' entrance off of Senarl's Cut. He turned and walked in briskly coward the scrawny woman and broad-shouldered man. She stared out at the stream of carts and people heading toward Tespergates at the southern end of Senarl's Cut. She hugged herself, but Renaer couldn't tell if it was from the cold or nervous habit. The young man seemed more interested in admiring Neverember House's carriages and horses.

"Milady Harsard? Master Wardragon?" Renaer asked when they turned to face his approach. "What seems to be the problem today?"

Laraelra spun on her heels and pointed an accusatory finger in Renaer's face. Her face switched from angry to surprised, as if she had shocked herself. "Who's living in Roarke House right now?"

Behind the three of them, the rasp of a sword being pulled from its scabbard preceded Pelar running forward to defend his young master with a shout of "Back away, woman!"

Renaer noticed the blond man with Laraelra-noticed especially his hand reaching for the axe on his back.

Renaer held up both hands and shook his head. "Calm yourself, Pelar. This lady has a lot on her mind. No threats here, right?" Renaer shot a smile at Meloon, whose grip relaxed on his axe hilt.

Laraelra sighed and stepped back. "My apologies, milord. It's been a tense morning." She hugged herself again and stared away. Pelar stopped, sheathed his blade, and slowly returned to Ash's stall.

Renaer exhaled and began again. "I'd invite you in for a warm cup, but the state of your clothes presents a problem for my staff." He smiled at Laraelra's answering blush and continued, "Now why do you ask about Roarke House? I've got someone fetching me the deeds and details on that property as we speak. Is there a problem with the sewers beneath it?"

"Not as much as-" Meloon started, but he stopped when Laraelra elbowed him in the stomach.

"I just need to know who's living in that building, Lord Neverember," she said. She grabbed some errant black hairs that waved in front of her pale face and pulled them back inside her hood.

"Lord Neverember is my father," Renaer said. "Call me Renaer, but don't expect me to part with my business if the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild won't tell me why they need to know it."

"This isn't guild business. It's-"

"Someone's torturing someone in the cellars beneath your property, man!" Meloon blurted. Renaer's jaw dropped.

Pelar stepped forward again, fists up, and said, "Take that back, and apologize to the saer."

Even though Meloon was nearly a foot taller than the stable hand, he stepped back, surprised by the anger in the man's eyes.

Renaer rested a hand on the older man's shoulder and said, "Thank you again, Pelar, but I don't need to be saved from everyone with a cross word for me. Besides, I want to hear what's got these two all wound up and angry with me this morning."

Pelar's eyes never left Meloon's, but he lowered his fists and muttered, "They should show more respect to you, saer, that's all." He dropped his hands, nodded to Renaer, and then returned to brushing the horses.

The door behind them opened and a halfling with his long, dark hair tied at the nape of his neck entered the stables. He juggled a few scrolls, and keys jangled at his belt. He cleared his throat, and said, "Milord, a word. In private." Despite being less than half the size of Meloon, this halfling cowed both him and Laraelra with a stern look when they tried to follow Renaer. Once Renaer was close, he knelt in front of the halfling to block their line of sight to his face.

"What is it, Bramal?" Renaer said. "Do you have the papers on Roarke House?"

The halfling whispered, "No, milord. That's what I came to tell you. They're missing, along with two sets of keys. I didn't sell or lease out the property. The last dealings I had with that house was in renting it this past summer to some guests of Lady Nhaeran Wands. As far as any of us know, Roarke House should be vacant. There're only four people with complete access to those records and keys. You and I are two of them, and the others are our fathers."

"Very well, Bramal, thank you. Don't worry about it, but do give me the other set of the keys to the place." Renaer stood as Bramal put the ring of keys into his hand. "Was there anything suspicious about the deeds on the adjoining properties?" Renaer asked this loudly for his guests to overhear, and Bramal took the hint.

"No milord," he replied. "The Gildenfires remains, as it has for thirteen years, in need of repair and a tenant to do so. We replaced the roof year before last to keep the building intact, but your father insisted we not waste money fixing up anything a tenant might do for us. The warehouse between that festhall and Roarke House has those long-term leases with Houses Ammakyl and Gralleth. At last autumn's inspection, half the warehouse was filled with older furniture and other decorations from the last three times Lady Ammakyl decided her mansion was not quite up to the leading edge of Waterdhavian fashions. The other half, the Gralleths have filled with materials from former noble villas when they absorbed the estates and interests of the Bladesemmers and the Markarls."

"Well, Laraelra? Meloon? Feel up to walking to Roarke House?" Renaer said. "We can inspect the property, and you can tell me more about whatever is 'not guild business.' "

Laraelra had rarely been in this neighborhood, even though it bordered on the Heroes' Garden where she met Meloon earlier. The buildings she noticed lining Skulls Street were better-kept row houses with stone foundations and wooden upper floors, none of which loomed less than three stories high. Once they turned into Rook Alley, the building quality and size plummeted, most of the structures of one or two stories and in ill repair. The roof slates became rough wooden shingles with moss-encrusted gaps, the foundations simple brick rising to knee height and continuing with dark stained wood. While the outer buildings surrounding Rook Alley celebrated the richness of Sea Ward, those hidden within reflected the ill fortunes visited on the city in times past and present.

Following Renaer's lead, Laraelra and Meloon came to a stop on the stoop of an imposing three-story building. The well-kept stone front was freshly scrubbed and cleaned, unlike most other buildings to the south and east. This was one of two stone buildings in the general vicinity, the other being the Halaerim Club directly across Kulzar's Alley. Roarke House's columned frontage seemed ostentatious, compared to the slightly rundown nature of the buildings attached to it. This neighborhood had fallen on bad times in the past decades, and now Roarke House was among a well-tended few. The cleaner buildings here and there along Skulls Street did suggest gentrification might be returning to this part of Sea Ward, but it would'be some time in coming.

Laraelra sniffed and said, "Very clean for a vacant place, Renaer. Hiding a rich friend from the Watch?"

Renaer glared at her. "Would I have brought the daughter of one of the loudest mouths in the city with me, if I were?"

Meloon rested hands on both their shoulders. "Hey, I'm sure there's a simple explanation for all this. Can't we be friends here?"

"No," came the simultaneous reply from both.

Renaer put the key in the lock of an ornately carved duskwood door, its surface a relief of stars and crescent moons. The door knocker, lock, and door pull were all silver crescents, as was the decorative end of Renaer's key. The lock clicked, and the door swung easily in silence. Renaer's eyebrows rose in surprise, which Laraelra followed with one arched eyebrow.