McIan
Journeyman
The early morning began like most as Scar, seated at the long table in the dining hall of the second floor of Sanctuary, was eating breakfast and gulping copious amounts of coffee. Deminatza was still asleep upstairs; she was doing this more of late, but the last evening at the tavern in Skara Brae had drained her emotionally. She was sleeping peacefully so when he arose and dressed, he did so quietly. Korbin Durr, the hired chef and old friend of theirs from Papua, and winner of the Britain wine-tasting contest held by the governor of that city, had outdone himself again. The eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy and stout black coffee, were perfection itself.
Vospar Nylam, Itannar’s brother, who was still searching for his younger brother Magnus, yet without success, entered the room with his breakfast plate piled high, the identical of Scar’s, and sat down at the table across from him. They exchanged cordial greetings though Scar inwardly felt a guilt-pang for withholding vital information concerning the man’s brother from him – to spare him untold anguish of soul.
Between bites of food, Vospar spoke up. “I was in Delucia yesterday on business. I know some of the mages there and was seeking information about my brother. They could tell me nothing of him, but they did tell me they were under martial law now, in the evenings, a curfew due to recent attacks by a large wolf-like beast roaming in the fields outside the town. A herder reported it and many animal bodies were found, savaged, but uneaten,” he stated. “I am aware of your plight but I told them nothing,” he added.
Scar’s eyes widened. He dropped his coffee mug and the deep brown liquid splattered. “A werewolf? Is that what they think it is?” He began to wipe up the spill. “I assure you it was not me!”
Vospar cocked his head. “You are certain of this? Have you lost any time lately?”
“I… don’t think so. I drink too much to be sure and I have been doing that of late, but it seems to keep my temper at bay as good as anything. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Were you in Delucia recently?”
Scar shook his head. “Well, I was in Papua…” he stopped quickly, catching himself before he slipped and told Vospar about his clandestine meeting with Torak concerning Demi’s condition. “I, uh, was there visiting an old friend, but I did not spend the night and did not go to Delucia in any case.”
Vospar finished the last of his scrambled eggs. “Then it is someone or something else,” he said, smiling. “I am pleased. I may, however, look into it since I do not want my friends to suffer,” he added.
“Of course. I would too. I am none too welcome there so I will leave that to you” he explained.
But the nagging thought that he could not fully give account of the time he spent recently in the Lost Lands, persisted and ruined his meal.
Vospar Nylam, Itannar’s brother, who was still searching for his younger brother Magnus, yet without success, entered the room with his breakfast plate piled high, the identical of Scar’s, and sat down at the table across from him. They exchanged cordial greetings though Scar inwardly felt a guilt-pang for withholding vital information concerning the man’s brother from him – to spare him untold anguish of soul.
Between bites of food, Vospar spoke up. “I was in Delucia yesterday on business. I know some of the mages there and was seeking information about my brother. They could tell me nothing of him, but they did tell me they were under martial law now, in the evenings, a curfew due to recent attacks by a large wolf-like beast roaming in the fields outside the town. A herder reported it and many animal bodies were found, savaged, but uneaten,” he stated. “I am aware of your plight but I told them nothing,” he added.
Scar’s eyes widened. He dropped his coffee mug and the deep brown liquid splattered. “A werewolf? Is that what they think it is?” He began to wipe up the spill. “I assure you it was not me!”
Vospar cocked his head. “You are certain of this? Have you lost any time lately?”
“I… don’t think so. I drink too much to be sure and I have been doing that of late, but it seems to keep my temper at bay as good as anything. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Were you in Delucia recently?”
Scar shook his head. “Well, I was in Papua…” he stopped quickly, catching himself before he slipped and told Vospar about his clandestine meeting with Torak concerning Demi’s condition. “I, uh, was there visiting an old friend, but I did not spend the night and did not go to Delucia in any case.”
Vospar finished the last of his scrambled eggs. “Then it is someone or something else,” he said, smiling. “I am pleased. I may, however, look into it since I do not want my friends to suffer,” he added.
“Of course. I would too. I am none too welcome there so I will leave that to you” he explained.
But the nagging thought that he could not fully give account of the time he spent recently in the Lost Lands, persisted and ruined his meal.