Cloaks

Chapter 8: Shettleport

The town of Shettleport was a coastal place, quaint and quiet--full of friendly people who greeted the party warmly when approached. The party went from shop to shop, chatting up the owners and patrons as they went. The people were happy to talk about whatever the adventurers asked, and were especially happy to tell them all about Holy Mace—the legendary hero who had saved them many times in the past. However, most of the information was limited to his past exploits and little nuggets of local lore, like the cobbler whose father once sold boots to him.

"It seems like nobody's actually seen him for a while," Ruby said. "Maybe the rumor's false, and he's not here."

"He's supposed to be some kind of recluse," Malakos said. "Maybe he just keeps to himself."

"The guy's also supposed to be huge," Bardy said. "Someone would've seen him whenever he came into town for supplies, but nobody has."

"Or so they say," Deruque punched his fist. "Maybe they just don't feel like sharing what they know."

"We need to keep asking around," Malakos said, scanning their surroundings. They'd wandered down to the piers, where fishermen sat, untangling their nets, and fishmongers prepared their wares for sale and transport.

"In a bit," Ruby said. "I'm starving." She, Deruque, Bardy, and Patch started wandering over to a stall where a delicious aroma of frying fish wafted into the air. Malakos started to follow, but stopped when he heard a faint song on the breeze.

It had a jaunty but melancholic air--the sort of song that people sang to themselves to keep their hopes up in hard times; but it wasn't the tune that caught his attention.

"Excuse me, sir--" the Tiefling approached the singer, an old fisherman nearby. "The song you were singing—it's about Holy Mace? Are you a follower of his?"

"Ah, yes, yes--Holy Mace! You know him? He is important hero. You know, he saved this very place many times."

"I had heard," Malakos said, feigning awe. "Was this town special to him? He seems to have favored it."

"Och, yes, he favored it. You know--" the old man lowered his voice a fraction and leaned in close, his eyes twinkling conspiratorially. "I have perhaps seen him, from time to time, on these very shores."

Malakos feigned awe even harder. "Truly? These same shores? Then...you wouldn't be able to take us to him, would you? It's for a very important cause."

"Well," the old man sat back and scratched his long beard, stiff with seawater. "I don't know... He is not wanting visitors, I think."

"We wouldn't make ourselves a nuisance," Malakos pleaded. "We only wish for a few minutes of his time."

"I thought we wanted him to come back with us," Bardy said. Malakos turned to see that the rest of the party had joined him. Ruby carried a neatly packed trout in her arms.

"Only if he agrees," the tiefling clarified, turning back to the old man. The fisher looked at the party members, his eyes twinkling.

"Well," he said. "I could take you to him. But first, maybe you do favor for me?"

"Certainly!" Malakos agreed.

"What do you need, old man?" Deruque grinned. "Monsters slain? Armies defeated? Tyrants overthrown? Please say it's tyrants overthrown."

"Is my nephew, Lorenzo. He is very lonely. Very sad. He has no family of his own. No wife. No children. Not even goldfish to keep him company. You maybe find him a date with nice girl, and I help you find Holy Mace, deal?"

Malakos, Bardy, and Deruque balked for a moment, looking at each other for direction; but Ruby squealed in excitement and shook the man's hand. "DEAL! Come on, guys! We have magic to make happen!"