The Raven and the Dragon

Chapter One

Griffins were, in Bo's opinion, the worst of all living creatures. They had all the fierce sharpness of a falcon mixed with the petty cunning of an especially spiteful barn cat. One nearly clawed out his eyes when he was nine. He still had scars on his arms from where he tried to defend himself. Even seeing a picture of one was enough to make his skin crawl.

The fact that the tavern he'd been directed to was called The Parliament of Griffins? Definitely a bad omen. He honestly contemplated turning around and walking away. He'd had a long enough day as it was. Even something as insignificant as a tavern name felt like a slap in the face.

But he couldn't. Leaving meant admitting defeat and they had not come all this way to do that. Giver of All Magic, preserve me.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The inside was more pleasant than he'd expected. It wasn't terribly rowdy; the music was quiet and he didn't feel like every eye was on him the second he closed the door. There were people seated at tables and at the bar, but the only one to spare him a second glance was the bartender. "What can I get for you?" she asked Bo as he approached.

"Uhm..." Should he order something? He didn't know. He'd never done anything like this before. "Ale, I suppose, just a pint. And, ah, I'm actually looking for someone? Her name is..." He fumbled at his pockets for his notebook. "Ah, Nimah. Nimah Sudani. I was..." When he looked up, the bartender's entire countenance had changed. Her eyes were suspicious and cold. "...hoping to...employ her?"

Deathly silence followed. Damn it. Damn it, I've done something wrong. He felt as though he should say something; at the same time, there was nothing for him to say. He'd been honest. He was here hoping to employ Nimah Sudani as a guide. Of course, if the woman asked him where he was going and why he needed a guide, he wouldn't be able to tell her... Please, don't let me have botched this.

The bartender poured him the ale and put it down in front of him. Her eyes never once left his. They were a fierce, stormy grey. "Who recommended you?" she asked carefully.

"Ah...the, ah..." Bo picked up the pint with one hand, his free hand stayed on the counter. The mark on his palm, hidden by his gloves, itched slightly. He prayed again, this time that he wouldn't have to use it. "Matthias...Matthias Greenwood? At the, uhm, the docks?"

The bartender kept staring. Just as he was about to excuse himself, she straightened up and nodded towards one of the tables behind them. "She's over there."

Bo glanced over his shoulder. He'd been told that Nimah Sudani was impossible to miss—wears her hair in a scarf, green eyes, dark skin...the swords will clue you in, if nothing else. She seemed to have two hanging from the back of her chair by their scabbards, which seemed unnecessary to him. But, then again, he wasn't an adventurer. "Thank you, thank you..."

"You're welcome. Hey, that'll be two silver for the ale...!"

"Right, right, thank you..." He had to fumble at his belt to retrieve the money, only to nearly walk away without the ale. "Thank you!" he repeated as he came back for it.

Maybe that was why she'd given up Nimah Sudani's location. She was convinced that Bo wasn't a threat. He knew he didn't look or act like one.

Nimah Sudani wasn't alone when he walked over; she seemed to be speaking to two people, also the rough-and-tumble looking sorts. He was hesitant to interrupt at first. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. Time is of the essence, Bo. He pushed past his nervousness and cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse me."

She looked up at him. The other two looked at him as well, but he tried to focus on her. Her eyes really were shockingly green. "Yeah? Can I help you?"