The Lady In Red Really Wants Me Dead

Episode 6:Never Forget About The Smaller Things

"Little guy's name is Sting. After the sword of a fabled halfling hero my dad used to tell me about when I was a kid, before going to bed. What was his name again? Ah... Got it on the tip of my tongue... Anyways, you know who I mean. It's the one with the hairy feet."

                                                                                     Jack O, Halfling Detective

The armored cliff stood behind the Baron, looking like he was about to have a staring match to the death with another, even more immovable cliff. The bastard was so big he almost reached the top of the tent. Jack had to make an effort to keep his eyes off him, but his nose just couldn't help itself. He smelled of steel, most of all, but also a bit of food, a hint of soap under the sweat. Nothing that told Jack anything, really. He took a drag, blowing out the smoke in frustration. Perched on a knuckle, Sting concurred with a decisive rustle of his feathers. The mountain nectars seemed to do him good, he was less grumpy than usual.

"Tell me Mister O, do you agree?" The Baron was leaning forward, looking down at him rather intently.

Right. They were having a talk with Mister Holdenflame.

"I'm sorry. Just thinking about those barbarians, a coalition might mean a load of trouble," Jack replied, hoping the vagueness of it would fit whatever had just been said.

"So you do agree with the Professor's assessment?"

"Well yeah, finding someone to translate would be the best step forward. It's never a good plan to go in blind."

"I happen to have just the man." The Baron gave a satisfied grin. "Or gnome, rather. Doctor Andrix does not speak Goblish, but he is a rather fine divinator, even if he insists otherwise."

"Always the humble one, that dear Doctor," someone chimed in rather nondescriptly.

"A divinator was my next best suggestion, after a translator." The Professor was sitting straight on her chair, having a sip of esperberry tea. "It seems all is not lost, then."

"And once we figure out what the bastards want —why they're banding up together— we can plan our next step. Carefully," Jack said.

"Do not be too hasty, Mister O," said the Professor, setting her cup aside. "Divination is a complex endeavor, we might have to wait a bit for our answer."

"Wait or not, we still have to get to the good Doctor as fast as we can."

"Very well then." The Baron rose ponderously from his seat. "Captain, would you be so kind as to ensure everything gets packed into the wagon? Make certain those poor souls have a comfortable ride back to the fort. Gods know, they don't need any more discomfort after all they've been through."

Just as the Captain left the tent, the Professor gave Jack a furtive look, and he couldn't help but agree with everything it communicated. He told her so with a furtive look of his own. Idriel was out with the children, and the Baron was finally alone with his bodyguard. Or nephew. Or...whatever he was. The moment was just right.

"Dear Baron, if you have a minute, there is something I need to discuss with you," said the Professor.

"Most certainly Lady Rhuerebert, my ear is all yours."

The Professor gave Jack a sour look, then shifted it to Galvain. "I meant... in private."

The Baron frowned, not quite understanding.

"How to put this. It is the sort of subject a proper lady should only share when absolutely necessary... Perhaps we could step outside?"

"Oh my! Oh yes. Yes, yes. I'm sorry." The Baron looked back at the cliff, and Jack thought he saw that black-horned helmet nod ever so slightly. Had he just caught Baron Holdenflame asking for permission?