Beyond the mortal realm, a tale of Dungeons and Dragons

The city of Gorgon

Chapter 1, Duratier I presume...

I awoke. Lying in bed and staring up at the tall ceiling. I recognised the room immediately. It was my room, the one I had been renting for the past month. It was a room in the Drunken Dwarf. Looking around the room, I could see all of the newly furnished, but rustic oak furniture. I could smell the open air from the window above his headboard.

The bed was in the far corner of the room, opposite the door, situated in the right corner from the door. There was small tapestry on the walls depicting the great battle of Gorgon, the largest defence against its siege, a victory on their part as it was a tale of some of the greatest heroes the land had ever seen.

Sitting up, looking at the end of my bed, I saw my chest. I hopped out of bed and approached it, ready to equip myself for another day of work. Opening the chest, I took out my dark leather armour and my black hooded coat. At the bottom of the chest, there were my weapons: My two short swords and my pair of daggers. Closing the chest, I looked in the mirror on the wall.

Sweeping my long, brown, curly hair away from my eyes I began to look at my chin. The stubble was unkempt, messy, but it was how I liked it. I also checked the scar running down over my left eye. I did this every morning, checked my scar, It reminded me of my time fighting in the siege of Gorgon.

I remained unhooded as I did one last check in my room before leaving for the day and heading downstairs to the inn below.

The Drunken Dwarf was a very rowdy tavern in the heart of the city. There were small circular tables dotted around the room downstairs and a door to the street in the far corner. Slowly I walked over to the door, nodding to the innkeeper to say good morning. The door opened to a muddy street. It was a main street, and in a town like this, it was common for the roads to be like this.

I began to walk towards the market before hearing the familiar sound of pots rattling, clanging together, and the soft voice of an old man. Among the chatter of the people in the city and the yelling of the stall vendors, the old man could barely be heard

'Arno, Arno! Is it really you? Come hear my dear boy, come here, I found something that may interest you' the old voice called whilst the man beckoned me over.

'Hello ol' Jim' I replied with surprise. 'What are you doing here?'

He walked round a corner into an alley with haste. Picking up the pace, I followed him down the street to the alleyway.

'I've got you a job, and I think it's right up your street' Old Jim proclaimed.

'Go on, I'm listening.'

'It's the fishmonger, his daughter's gone missing, and he's looking for a tracker to find her. Talk to him if you need information about this job, I didn't ask too much, he kind of gives me the creeps.'

'Sound very peculiar, I shall investigate, thank you Jim, I'll go talk to this fishmonger... and before you say, I'll be careful.'

I walked off to find this fishmonger. As Jim warned me of the man who could be seeking to trap me.

This was my kind of work. I track down people. Most people in Gorgon have heard of me as I have helped so many in this city on this land of Gogotoll, this was one of the many continents on Uppomar.

Prepared for work, I hooded myself, and walked towards this mysterious fishmonger. His stall was in the centre of Market square. The market had a large fountain with statues of the four heroes from the siege of Gorgon.

'Ah, good sir, come to buy some fish?' the fishmonger said on the verge of sobbing.

The fishmonger was fair with age, mid to late forties at least. He wore an apron and a pair of gloves, so that he'd not contaminate the products with his touch.