The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

1 - J U D S O N

Through the wooden floorboards of the roof, sounds of roaring laughter, lute music, stomping footsteps that indicated careless dancing, crashing of beer filled flagons against one another, and loud, incoherent conversations floated in all together to create the perfect atmosphere for merrymaking.

The fragrant aroma of burning incense filled up a little bedroom, leaving tender wisps of white smoke curling together in the air.

The bedroom itself was not exactly a ceremonious one; the plywood of its walls bore deep rings and ugly scratches that was possibly caused by constant nailing or attack from the claws of a wild animal; the floors showed cracks and gaps in many places, allowing for the audible squeal of scramming rodents from underground - the main reason why every furniture showcased bite marks. The bed was old, supported by a rickety frame that tipped if one sat on the extreme end and groaned if too much weight was applied in the middle. Its white sheets had turned cream with time and the tufts in all three pillows were flattened to door mat thickness. At the head of the bed, a single window always hosted spiders and ants, its pane obscured by a permanent dirt fog that never came off no matter how hard one scrubbed. Some parts of the old door was chipped, as if it had once endured several strikes from something sharp, and its handle sorrowfully dangled from the edge of the key slot, translating to the absence of any sort of privacy.

In short, the room was a pitiful sight.

It was one of many in the old tavern. The Sanguine Gopher.

Owned by a local sailor of Bremeton named Dumulthur. For thirty nine years, the Gopher had stood proudly as the only tavern in the remote village of Letter End within six miles of Turmoil, gradually transitioning from a pleasant, homey structure to a weathered, gloomy shelter with a large broken signboard before its ruined gate, flickering oil stained lanterns and broken cobblestones leading to its front doors.

At the end of every week, the Sanguine Gopher hosted gatherings that was highly comprised of seamen, traders, high road travellers, homeless or indebted folk, and so on and so forth.

Such gatherings was usually how stories and rumors spread into a thousand ears. It acted as the grounds for gossip, fights, lies, exaggerated accomplishments, and the opportunity to squander whatever wealth one had managed to gather during his weekly business. Dumulthur hosted men and women and beings alike from every corner of the seven realms. He was more than happy to present them with aged wine, cheap music, food and his most decent rodent-free rooms in exchange for a few gold coins. He was a slender fellow; bright eyed with a face covered in fine dark beard. One could easily mistake him for a Lord given his well-groomed appearance, but Dumulthur was a simple commoner from Letter End. He rarely spoke, walked with his back perfectly rigid and conveyed comments with his eyes.

He had stared suspiciously at Judson for many minutes when the latter first booked a room in the Sanguine Gopher.

Whilst Judson spoke to Veldrylys, the tavern messenger, he kept a watchful side glance at Dumulthur, who made no attempts to hide the fact that he oogled so much.

Three days later, Judson sat inside a rat-infested bedroom, awaiting Bergor, whom he had sent for through Veldrylys. He intended to first speak with the Easterner before traveling any further. Bergor's village of DaringFox was no more than a day's ride away from Letter End, but the sailor tarried for reasons best known to him alone.

He leaned forward and jerked immediately, startled by his bed tipping for the umpteenth time. He could hear the merriments from the parlor above, but none of it interested him. The only time the tavern had quietened entirely was when he first walked in the front door. Everyone had stared for so long that he felt he would combust, but thankfully, loud conversation arose again once he reached the counter. Ever since, he had not stepped out of the room unless when utterly necessary.