Faerunners

The Devil You Know

Some people were born wanderers. They came into this world with a deep rooted need to drift and ramble, comfort and company held no meaning for them. A moonlit night and a lonesome road was all they could ask for. 

Tallis Bertrand was not one of those people.

He was more of a house mouse than an adventurer, perfectly content to sit indoors where it was safe and warm and nothing dangerous ever happened. He’d grown up on tales of wizards and heroes and he was old enough now to know that that life wasn’t for him. He was a nobody. 

Sad as that sounded, he was fine with that. It was a simple life. Most days were the same. He made enough money to make ends meet. What more could he ask for? Adventure maybe, a little excitement, something to make him feel alive. Those would be nice, sure, but thrills didn’t put food on the table. Adventure didn’t buy his father medicine when he’d fallen ill.

For the past year he’d been working as a paper pusher for the Cold Iron detective agency. It wasn’t much of a job but it beat mucking out the horse stalls back home on the farm. Spending his days inside the city suited him. Life moved faster here. There was a certain electric hum to the air. A pulse that made him feel like anything was possible. 

With a sigh, he took his fresh cup of coffee out of the small office kitchen and headed back to his desk. It was a simple building with floral wallpaper, three square desks in the middle of the floor and a trio of private offices at the back of the room. Sitting heavily at his desk, he fished his pocket watch out of his vest. Only six hours left until he could go home. Wonderful. He tapped a pen on the corner of his desk, struggling to find some way to kill the time. There were no new cases, no new smugglers to interrogate, no new contraband magic to catalogue, just endless boredom until quitting time. At least he was getting paid for it.

Someone sat in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, pulling him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He looked up to find Detective Allistair Cromley sitting across from him. The detective sergeant was a tall, gaunt man with sharp features and hollow cheeks. His hair was long and stringy, shot through with streaks of grey. He was dressed for a day on the ranch with a stained pair of pants, button up shirt, a worn hat, and a bandana around his neck, not exactly a professional look, but Tallis had never known the sergeant to be professional.

“Good morning, sergeant,” said Tallis with a fake smile. A morning with Allistair wasn’t exactly the kind of break in the boredom he’d been looking for. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

The sergeant tipped his hat up, and a wry grin spread across his face. “Suppose you could say that.” 

That was a bad sign and Tallis had to fight the urge to scowl at the older man. The only time he was ever vague was when he was looking to do something dirty, dangerous, illegal, or some combination of the three.

“Talked to the captain when I got in,” Allistair continued. “And I’m lookin’ to get you busted out of desk duty.” 

“You don’t need to do that, sir. I like working the desk. I’m good at it.” 

“We’ve noticed, but I think there’s a real curly wolf in you hiding behind the coffee boiler we have now. Your wastin’ your talents in here with the paper work.” 

Tallis shook his head. “A what?” he asked. 

Allistair sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, sorry I don’t have a head full of five dollar words from some namby pamby school. I mean there’s a fighter in you. Captain agrees. You’re coming out to ride with me.”

“Are you sure?” Tallis asked. He opened one of the drawers on his desk and went hunting for the form the sergeant would need to sign him out of the office. “I don’t think I have a copy of the form handy. I can get it for you if you’d like.” An oncoming wave of panic broke over him. It was always a possibility that he’d be ordered out into the field but he never thought that it would happen. At least not so soon anyway.