The Iron Teeth

Queen of Swords 3

Saeter led the hobgoblin through several more back streets, before they emerged back into a more public area. The street ahead of them was wide and mostly empty. It was bordered by worn down looking but well maintained homes. Everything had a well used feeling to it.

There were no crowds bustling about in this part of the city. Only a few tough looking men and women could be seen walking together in small groups. The people here seemed to like to keep to themselves; there wasn't a lot of talking or noise.

Saeter and Blacknail silently passed these people by, as they made their way down the street. After several minutes of walking, Blacknail noticed a building that was clearly not a home of any sort.

It was much larger than the two houses that were on either side of it, even if it had the same worn down aura. Most tellingly though, there was a sign that hung out above the door, so Blacknail knew that meant he was looking at a human tavern. Unsurprisingly, it also appeared that Saeter was walking right towards it.

Blacknail sighed in resignation as they walked up the creaky wooden steps of the tavern. He could already smell booze and the door wasn't even open yet. When Saeter opened the door, he sneezed wetly beneath his mask as the scent of alcohol and human sweat washed over him.

The floor of the tavern was rugged stone and totally uncovered. The walls were rough looking wood and completely bare of decoration.

There were a few tables and benches scattered about, but not enough for everyone, so a lot of people were standing around in small groups. Almost everyone inside was dressed in rough workmen's clothing, including a lot of the women. Only a few women were wearing long plain dresses and shirts instead.

Saeter and the hobgoblin got more than a few glances as they moved into the room. Unlike outside, no one here was hooded. Blacknail hissed nervously as he realized he stood out from the crowd. He didn't like being the center of attention.

The hobgoblin's posture stiffened, but Saeter ignored everyone else and walked up to the bar. A second later Blacknail hurried after him. He felt much safer beside his master.

The bald barkeep was round and fat even for a human. He lazily turned to look their way as they approached, and then he scowled in irritation. Blacknail didn't think the man was reacting to them; it seemed more likely that he always grimaced like that at everyone. His thick face was certainly lined enough for it.

As the barkeep glowered thoughtfully at Saeter and Blacknail, a flash of recognition suddenly appeared in the large man's eyes.

"Huh, I thought you were dead," he grunted at Saeter.

"I'm impossible to kill, you should know that," the old scout replied gruffly.

"You haven't been by in a few years. At your age that usually means a man has retired or died, and you never struck me as the retiring type," the innkeeper explained with a ponderous shrug of his shoulders.

"True enough," Saeter responded as he took up position on the other side of the long crude wooden bar from the man.

"Who is your friend?" the innkeeper inquired, with a nod and a suspicious glance at Blacknail.

"He's a friend of mine; you don't need to worry about him," the old scout answered.

The innkeeper didn't seem convinced; he eyed the hobgoblin suspiciously. He also apparently wasn't the curious sort though, because a few seconds later he just shrugged and changed the topic.

"Well then, what brings you back here? Don't tell me you're looking for work," the innkeeper asked.

"No, I have a permanent employer these days. I'm just here to tickle some ears," Saeter replied.