A Dragon Hunt and other euphemisms
Posted on 07 Oct 2020 @ 2:58am by Warrior Martin Josceran & Mage Kalian Winter
3,540 words; about a 18 minute read
Mission:
Prologue
Location: The Raven's Roost Tavern
Timeline: Cloudreach 15th - Night time, after "Sins of the Father"
OOC: Continued from "Sins of the Father"
They arrived at the Tavern's outer door, carved with the likeness of a Raven. Kalian's grandfather had it made and named the tavern in tribute to his wife. A crumpled piece of paper lay on the ground, and Kalian absently picked up the trash and pocketed it before turning to Martin. "Why don't you come in for a drink? On the house. Well, the first one will be. " He grinned at the guard and pushed the door open. "Tessa will charge you for the second."
Martin only hesitated a second. Although it was fairly late, he was on second shift and not expected to show up at the station until lunch, and an ale sounded good after the excitement of the evening. And since Kalian was offering... well, maybe this was why his sister was the one in charge of the inn. If memory served, he'd also offered - quite spontaneously - a room for the night to the Chantry sister. Generosity certainly appeared to be a defining trait of Kalian's character.
"Sure, why not. After all, I'm not on duty. But only if you'll let me buy you a second one as well."
They passed through the outer door, then the inner door. The tavern was winding down for the evening and only a couple tables were still occupied, as their usual Monday-night patrons were early risers. Kalian was not surprised to see Sister Elinowy sitting at a table with the well-dressed gentleman he'd noticed earlier. He motioned Martin to the bar and went around behind to pour two ales, then set one in front of Martin. Tessa watched from across the room with raised eyebrow, but didn't protest. Kalian raised his tankard. "To peaceful evenings and new friends."
The ale was a nice golden colour and the tankards were clean. Overall it looked like Tessa ran a tight ship. Martin clinked his tankard with Kalian's and took a long sip, the ale light and refreshing after this long evening. He took the time to savour it, intrigued to feel subtle notes of elderflower and honey.
"Nice ale," he commented. "Tastes a bit like Duvellan's but lighter. I'm curious now, where do you get it from ?"
Naturally, if they'd owned this place for three generations, they must have good connections to all the local breweries.
Kalian paused to savor the delicious amber brew himself. Despite his reputation with certain members of the city guard, he rarely drank enough to become intoxicated. Intentionally dousing himself with cheap beer was an effective way to create that impression, but spilling this ale would be an afront to Sylaise. "It's brewed by the Jeannine brewery, owned by a cousin of my brother-in-law. You might even say this brew is what brought my sister and her husband together." Kalian took another appreciative sip. "The recipe has changed over the years, but it started as a collaboration, between our family and his."
"Well, now I kind of regret not coming here before. Maybe I'll drop by with my friends next time. Then your sister can be happy that your generosity brought in more paying customers." Martin gave his new friend a crinkled-eyes smile. Gauvain would like this place, he should bring him here by way of an apology for not showing up tonight. "It looks fairly quiet, I imagine it's not everyday that you get a kind of ruckus like what happened earlier. It's lucky the sister was here, mugged patrons can't be good for business."
He glanced at the sister, who was talking quietly to a rather well-dressed man - the same one who'd been hanging around already when Martin had interviewed her. The man's appearance tickled Martin's brain, as if he ought to know him, and yet he was sure he'd never seen him before tonight. Probably just a resemblance.
"Of course, with her involved, the Chantry's probably going to want a copy of the full report of the incident." He sighed ruefully. "I suppose I better watch my handwriting. And my spelling."
He paused for a moment, turning the tankard around to see the beer sloshing and foaming gently. "I don't mean to worry you, or your family, but... just in case this mugger wasn't working alone, you should be careful over the next few days. The Sister is protected, to an extent, by her habit, but you are not."
Kalian imagined more guardsmen stopping in for drinks. The Raven's usual clientele were mostly law-abiding locals who wouldn't be put-off. And Tessa would be pleased – and his family would be safer. "I appreciate the warning, I'll be careful."
He took another sip of his beer and recalled the crumpled paper he'd picked up on the street outside the Raven's front door. Paper was not an inexpensive commodity. He took it from his pocket and smoothed it out on the bar. "I picked this up just outside."
It was a single-page advertisement in large block letters, with the bottom third torn off. Kalian read it out loud.
for an honest day's work?
We offer One Royal per day plus Room and Board
for qualified, able-bodied workers.
Hiring Daily at the following location-
"The location must be on the part that was torn off." Kalian gave a low whistle. "Maker's breath. One gold a day."
"That's... a lot of money," Martin commented, brow creasing into a frown. In fact it was more money than he made, and while the city guard often complained about their miserly pay, he couldn't imagine unskilled labourers being paid more. Either someone with too much money was feeling uncommonly charitable, or the work was dangerous. Martin couldn't help but notice that no information was given at all on the nature of the jobs thus advertised. Even more likely, this could be a trap to rob desperate people their last coins. "Where does it say to go to take up this suspiciously amazing offer ?"
It couldn't hurt to take a closer look. Preferably with back-up.
Kalian turned the sheet of paper over. A note was written on the back in a slightly smudged but careful hand. He read this side aloud too.
I can not turn away from an opportunity like this,
to earn enough money to take care of you properly.
I'm doing this for us and for our future.
I promise to return before the baby is born,
and be a proper husband for you and a father to our child.
I have enclosed every coin I could lay hold of to keep you until then.
With all my love,
Costard"
"Well, it doesn't look like this Jaquenetta got the message," Martin said. "The money probably got stolen. Seriously though, if this Costard had an ounce of common sense he'd have given her the money directly..." he trailed off. The name Jaquenetta, when he said it out loud, tickled his memory. Without meaning to he pictured the fuzzy image of a young woman in a tattered skirt, with a heavy belly and a thick country accent. "Jaquenetta, Jaquenetta... I've heard this name before."
"Someone you might know?" asked Kalian. Jaquenetta wasn't an uncommon name, but Costard sounded Fereldan… or possibly a variety of apple. And the flyer, offering work - it sounded too good to be true.
"No, it was at the station." Martin took another sip, though the ale probably didn't help. "It was a couple of days ago I think. A pregnant girl. We could barely understand a word she said, with that accent of hers. Typical southern accent, the kind you hear close to the border." Much different from Martin's own, clipped northern inflections, though a decade in Jader had eroded his native accent. "She wanted to report the disappearance of her boyfriend. I think Audrey interviewed the father and he confirmed threatening the boyfriend. Everybody assumed he just got scared after getting her pregnant and ran away..."
A fair assumption at that, and a common enough story ; a guard's life made for a somewhat more cynical approach to life. But now it looked like the assumption may have been a hasty one, and unfair to poor Jaquenetta's boyfriend. Assuming this was the same one - after all, Jaquenetta was quite a common name.
Kalian pictured Costard, a poor man soon to become a father. "If he had no way to support a family, the work offered by the flyer would be extremely tempting. So you think this Costard took the job, but Jaquenetta never got the note and thought he was missing?"
"Could be. May I ?" Martin held out a hand to take the flyer, and he smoothed the crinkled paper on the counter to examine it more closely under the light of the nearest candle. "Cheap paper," he muttered to himself as he felt the flimsy texture of the easily-crumpled paper. "Definitely not Chantry-quality velum. Hand-written by someone literate enough to use words like reclaim and dignity, and not make spelling mistakes. They used a poor-quality quill though, there's a blotch... another one here. Funny for someone so generous to be so cheap, eh ?" He didn't really expect a response, he was puzzling it out loud as he usually did, not really used to having an audience while he did that. "Costard. Sounds foreign. Isn't that a Fereldan name ?" He flipped the paper over. "Able-bodied suggests manual labour, qualified suggests craftsmanship, but then it'd make more sense to post this on the guild boards. Also, it's strange to want someone qualified without specifying what they need to be qualified for. And of course there's that ridiculous pay. Hmm, definitely sounds like they're hiring for a dragon hunt."
Kalian rubbed the edge of the paper between thumb and forefinger. "They… whoever they is… might have another reason not to use Chantry-quality velum. There are folks that would gather up all the flyers, scrub 'em clean, and resell them blank. This cheap stuff can only be used once. Or reused to write a note on the back." He paused to consider Martin's other comments. If this was really about hunting dragons, a royal a day wasn't so impressive. "Dragon hunt?"
"Sorry, guardsman terms. Hiring for a dragon hunt is what we say when an offer sounds too good to be true or when things just don't add up. It usually turns out to be some sort of scam. I don't suppose you or your sister ever saw who's leaving this sort of flyers behind ?"
"This is the first flyer like this I've seen. I picked it up because I thought it was trash. At least you'll be able to tell that poor woman what happened to her betrothed. Although, if this is a dragon hunt the news won't be good." Kalian lifted his tankard and drank, then looked over the job advertisement again. "I wouldn't be surprised if there are more of these flyers posted around the refugee camp. It'd be worth visiting, to see if we can find more, or at least one that doesn't have the hiring location torn off."
Martin nodded, glancing down at his ale, vaguely surprised to find it half gone already. The good stuff always went down easily.
"Yes, it's worth at least a look." There were different sorts of criminals, but those who preyed on other people's despair certainly ranked amongst the worst on Martin's personal shitlist. "Though I'm not sure we'll ever find out what really happened to that guy."
Since it appeared Costard had not left of his own volition it was likely that the man was either gone or dead, and the dead more often than not had no face or name among the poor. The rich could sometimes be identified by their clothes, tattoos, or other distinctive marks. It was harder with the poor, especially when the bodies were more than a couple of days old. That line of thought was too gruesome for the evening though, and Martin shook his head.
"It's odd though. This kind of stuff is usually aimed at middle-class citizens, not refugees and poor people."
Kalian shrugged. "If it's legitimate work, I could be tempted by a royal a day. If it's a dragon hunt… well, like I said, Jader is my home and my family is part of this community. Plenty of other citizens will be just as tempted by an offer like this, once word gets around. If you're going to visit the refugee camp, I'd appreciate if you'd allow me to go along." He smiled and finished off his tankard, not hiding his intention to visit the refugee camp, with or without Martin.
Martin looked up from his tankard to study Kalian's face. The man seemed to have perfected the art of the guileless, mischievous smile that probably got him out of a lot of trouble on a daily basis. Maker, he wasn't even trying to pretend that he would leave this whole thing alone.
"It would be better... safer, for you to not get involved," Martin said half-heartedly. He already knew where this was going, and the truth was it would be easier for Kalian to get refugees to talk to him. Even when Martin dressed as a civilian, apparently there was a sort of something about him that still marked him as a guard. Still, involving a citizen in what could potentially end in bloodshed was a heavy responsibility. "And safer for your family."
Eyebrows knit together, Kalian put down his empty tankard. "I understand that poking around could lead to something risky and even dangerous. But come on, we're talking about a visit to the refugee camp, looking around, asking a few questions. The refugees are just people like us. Poor, and fallen on hard times, but they care about the safety of their families as much as any of us."
Martin could understand Kalian's feelings ; his family had been around for three generations, he was bound to have an attachment to Jader that Martin himself couldn't share, having lived there only his adult years. At the same time, this sort of willingness was rare, especially in someone who didn't seem particularly interested by a job in the guard.
"Kalian... I'm grateful for your help tonight, I really am. But you have no obligation to me, or the guard, or..." he tapped the flyer with his index, "...this Costard. Why do you want to help ? Really ? Lots of people have been citizens of Jader longer than you or me, and most of them certainly don't feel compelled to do anything. Maker, they feel deserving enough after just paying their taxes."
He looked across the tavern at Ben, baby in one arm, his other arm around Tessa's waist, the two of them saying goodnight to Ben's two mercenary friends. Kalian's niece was asleep in his father Armin's room. Dilana, the elven serving girl had started washing up in the kitchen, and soon Dilana's husband and brother would arrive to walk her home to the alienage after closing. Tessa and Ben would take the children to their home next door, and then Armin would lock up the Tavern for the night. It was a good life working at the tavern, but it wasn't really his life. Kalian's future was always overshadowed by potential discovery and betrayal.
"When the blight in Ferelden began and refugees started flooding into Jader, my niece Iris was a baby. We tried to convince Tessa to take the baby and go live with our grandmother in a remote cottage. My sister refused to hide when there were people in need, people we could help. Our mother… she was an elf, you see. And elves look after their community. She raised us to do the same." There had been so much chaos at that time, so many people in need, that Kalian had been able to help people, anonymously. "I know I'm not guard material myself. I, uh, don't have the right skills… but that's no reason not to do the right thing, if I can."
The revelation about Kalian's mother was unexpected, and Martin's eyebrows rose marginally higher. Despite the Empress' more liberal leanings, this sort of confession was not casually made, not even this close to Ferelden. Mentioning his elven heritage was a clear gesture of trust from Kalian, and it also explained perhaps why he might care about the fate of those less fortunate than himself.
Martin studied Kalian's earnest brown eyes for a moment longer before he yielded. If he was going to get involved regardless, it'd be better to keep him close. And really, he already was involved, or so anyone seeing them talk tonight would assume.
"Alright. Fine. The truth is, I could use the help, there's a lot of ground to cover."
And, he thought but did not say, most of the other guards would have little interest in investigating this. A waste of time, they'd say. They would help, if Martin asked, but they'd be more likely to scare off any potential information source than anything else. Kalian, on the other hand... refugees might talk to him. While trying to steal his purse, maybe, but that'd be a start.
"But if we're doing this, we're doing it my way. You won't go without me, and you'll stick close to me at all times. No running off. I have no doubt that you can handle yourself but I'd feel really bad if anything happened to you because of this, so for my peace of mind, please take this seriously."
"I swear on Andraste's holy knickers, I will take it seriously." Kalian grinned widely, pleased that Martin would accept his help, and cheerful enough to try teasing him a little. "If you don't mind me saying so, your serious demeanor is part of what tips people off that you're a guard. Makes people stop and think, second guess themselves about what they may or may not be feeling guilty about, and whether or not anything they've done lately could be considered a crime."
"You think ?" Martin lifted an eyebrow, surprised and amused at the same time. Being too serious was definitely not something he had often been reproached with. Least of all his family. "You're giving my roguishly handsome face too much credit. Most criminals I deal with don't feel very guilty about their... occupation. Except maybe those two siblings I caught nicking some apples on marketday. They looked properly chastised when their mother picked them up at the station." He chuckled at the memory. "Maybe next time they'll think it through."
"I like to think most people don't set out to break the law. They just get caught up in what they want, can't think of better ways of getting it, and don't consider how they might be hurting someone else." Kalian's smile faded and he looked at the flyer. "When do you plan to go?"
"I'm on second shift, so I'm supposed to start around lunchtime. If you and the Sister are free then, I'll take down your testimonies and then she can head over to the Chantry, or whatever it is that sisters do in their free time, and you and I can head out. I have alienage duty but not before mid-afternoon, until then I have free patrol." Martin finished the last of the ale, somewhat regretfully. "I'll tell my fellow guards where we're headed, just to be on the safe side."
"Since I'm going with you, and you'll… not exactly be there in your official capacity as a city guard… maybe we could meet at the guardhouse in the morning after breakfast, and get an earlier start?" Kalian rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I'm thinking ordinary people are more likely to be out and about in the refugee camp - willing to gossip and talk - in the morning, while the more… criminal element that roam the streets at night are sleeping." He smiled crookedly. "Or maybe I've just read Hard in Hightown too much."
The idea had merit. Being there outside of his regular patrol times would allow Martin this extra bit of flexibility in how he handled the situation. After considering the notion for a moment he nodded.
"Sure, that sounds good. I didn't have any other plans anyway, so we might as well get it done." Sleeping in would wait until his day off, he supposed.
After setting down his wooden tankard on the counter he stood, noticing as he did so that the common room was now empty. Even the sister and her admirer had retired for the night, and it looked like Kalian's sister was waiting for them to close down and finally go to bed. Martin flashed her an apologetic smile.
"Well, I know I promised to buy the next one but it's getting late. Tomorrow night sound good ? We can debrief and maybe I'll bring a friend, too."
Kalian nodded and Martin held out his hand. "Thanks again for your help, and see you tomorrow."
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