Courtesans - English version

9 Black lights

Harod entered the tavern accompanied by three bodyguards, each two heads taller than him, and walked straight to the dwarf innkeeper's counter. The dwarf was wiping a glass with an off-white cloth, but as soon as he spotted the half-elf and his bodyguards, the glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the wooden floor. One of the elf serving girls hurried over to sweep it up, though not before casting a puzzled glance at the innkeeper.

"Am I really that frightening, Tharoden? Or are you up to no good?" Harod leaned on the counter, suspicious.

"What? No, of course not! But your bodyguards are really imposing fellows," the dwarf glanced at them and then tried to smile. "How can I serve you? A drink?"

"I don't want anything. I'm here to check on the girls."

"Oh." The innkeeper nodded, pretending to understand.

"Which room is Dina in?"

Tharoden's thick, stubby finger pointed to the door of Zevran's door on the balcony. "But... why are you interested in her? Has something happened?"

"Nothing at all," Harod replied quickly. His presence here was telling, just as Tharoden's odd reaction was. They both knew the other was hiding something. Nonetheless, Harod continued to act as if he were the one in charge. "What do you know about her client?"

Tharoden picked up another glass and began wiping it, as if he had much work to do, shrugging his shoulders uncertainly. "Not much. Some sort of adventurer."

"An adventurer? Are you sure about that?" Harod eyed the dwarf sceptically, prompting him to shake his head.

"I don't know; he seemed like one at first glance. But I can't keep track of everyone; so many people come through here."

Harod scowled. "Of course. And is he alone?"

"That, I don't know either. I suppose not; only beggars and wanderers travel alone around. But I can't tell you who he came with. When he handed over the money, he was alone."

"I see," the half-elf muttered, nodding as he pushed himself away from the counter and glanced up at the balcony. Over his shoulder, he called out to one of his bodyguards. "Did you bring it?" The man nodded. Harod looked back at the innkeeper and gestured with his chin. "I hope everything is in order, as agreed."

"Of course, everything's in order, as agreed," Tharoden forced a grin. "The man came, got the girl, and that's that. What else would have happened?"

The dwarf's face was now overly defensive.

"We'll see about that," he said, and then started up the stairs.

The innkeeper's wife, a stocky, red-haired woman who had been eavesdropping in the background, stepped up behind her husband and whispered, "Did he figure it out?"

"No, of course not!" Tharoden muttered back as he watched the half-elf walk away.

"But he suspects something! Where's he going now?"

"He's going to check on them."

"What? On his own courtesan? Is he out of his mind?"

"I don't know. Just stay quiet! Don't draw too much attention."

Harod reached the balcony but stopped all three of his bodyguards at the top of the stairs. He walked alone to Zevran's room. Leaning towards the door, he listened.

Downstairs, the two dwarves exchanged glances.

Hearing nothing, Harod knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Then, placing his hand on the handle, he called through the crack.