Tales of Cubonia

The Golden Hourglass 4 - The Stranger

When the Trader Caravan would stop in Old Andora, the merriment would last for days without stopping. Entertainment, food, and quality merchandise could be found at all hours. For somewhere smaller like Laketown where residents were all too happy to lie down for a rest, the caravan would only remain in business during the daylight hours. When the sun set, the stalls closed, the actors retired, and Laketowners would return to their homes, or, as in Broderick and Adhemar's case, head to the local pub to let the good times roll.

The Angry Dogfish alehouse was packed wall to wall with people. Pom the Barman was rushing about furiously to fill order after order as an endless rotation of people came in and out of his establishment. In one corner of the room a large group of people were gathered around a foursome of men playing a very heated game of Checkmate. A chorus of groans and cheers erupted from the crowd as one of the men turned over the King of Swords, ending the game. Copins were exchanged back and forth, some begrudgingly and some angrily. On the opposite side of the bar from the Checkmate game was a table full of traders that had moved in with the caravan. A map of Elazio was spread out on the table before them, corners held down with a few tankards of frothy ale. They appeared to be arguing over which route they should take to the Sea of the Witch. The green haired woman from the acting troupe had gotten onto the bar and was entertaining any who would watch with a rousing rendition of The Ballad of Sir Thadeus and the Jabberwocky.

Broderick sat at a corner in a poorly lit corner watching the goings on with mild disinterest. He sipped his ale impatiently, leg shaking furiously. He had been waiting for someone, but they were now nearly thirty minutes late. One of his biggest pet peeves was tardiness, especially when it was keeping him drinking and having a good time on caravan night. Adhemar was at the bar downing tankard after tankard after being challenged to a drinking contest by six men. The men did not appear to be doing well. When the green haired woman moved to their end of the bar, Adhemar took a brief break from drinking to poorly harmonize the chorus with her.

The door of the bar opened and a man wearing a crimson travelling cloak walked in. He scanned the room with a pair of silver eyes, spotted Broderick in the corner, and made his way across the room.

"Brody, my old friend," the man said jovially. "How does the night find you?"

"The night finds me pissed off," answered Broderick. "You're half an hour late, Gemar."

The man, Gemar, shrugged his shoulders as if the world wasn't going to end over a bit of tardiness, which was quite likely.

"Come now, Brody," Gemar pleaded, "It's the night of the caravan. Try not to be so dour."

"I'll be dour if I damn well please," spat Broderick. "Did you bring my money?"

Gemar sat down just as a bar maid approached the table.

"What can I get ya," she asked Gemar. Broderick's tankard was still relatively full.

Gemar thought for a moment. "A flagon of your finest, dear. I'm in the mood for a little fun this evening."

She nodded and walked back to the bar to fill his order. Gemar turned back to Broderick who was looking at him expectantly.

"I have your money," he said finally. "Did you bring the artifact?"

Broderick knocked his heel into the knapsack hanging from his chair. It knocked against the wall with a dull thunk. "I've got it."

"Excellent," Gemar said, with a smile. The bar maid returned with his flagon of ale and set it down unceremoniously on the table. It sloshed out messily. Neither Broderick nor Gemar made any attempt to wipe it up. "Tonight we celebrate."