For Boredom's Sake: Eric's Tale
Chapter 12: Other Doings
By Eric Greer
"You have got to be kidding me!" yelled the Baroness, watching as the young hoodlum ran away with her handbag, disappearing into the crowd. Her personal guards were nowhere to be seen. With a scowl she gave chase, expertly weaving between people, jumping and turning, barely touching them as she passed.
Despite being dressed in an intricate attire of lace and leather, with her red hair tied back in a delicate-looking decorative knot, she managed to achieve an astounding speed. She had secretly been trained by some of the best combat instructors in the land, learning self-defense and the subtle arts of assassination - but despite these skills, she had been distracted when the child struck (if she had been alert, the child surely would have lost a hand for his effort).
While her training allowed her to nimbly pass through the crowd with nary an effort, the child had the size advantage, able to duck between legs and under tables. Her mind was sharp though, and through quick deduction and reasoning, she always found herself on his trail again in a matter of moments.
Almost as quickly as the chase had began, it ended - or so she thought. She had managed to grab the child by the shirt just outside of the market entrance. She had just started to turn the boy around when a large company of shirtless boys (monks in training, brandishing their newly earn tattoos - dragons and birds and sigils of great power) spilled from the market, engulfing them. Before she knew it, she was holding a shirt in her hand as the children passed by.
She towered over the children in her rage, growling as her eyes darted to and fro, scanning the milling crowds exiting the marketplace.
The boy looked around anxiously as he moved among the sea of legs, clutching his prize close to his chest. The sun was setting, and he had wandered the market streets as long as he could before heading towards his home.
The woman had looked like an easy mark - another newly arrived aristocrat, letting her guard down as she took in the sights of Romar - but as soon as he had her handbag in his hands she was after him. Her speed had surprised him, but he had been prepared. He knew the child monks would be heading through the market on their way to the north temple for their evening prayers - in a series of misfortune and dumb luck, she had gotten hold of him before he could reach them, but the children in turn had been early. Slipping out of his best shirt, he did his best to blend in with the children, moving slowly to the side before ducking between a group of merchants.
He looked around again. He was sure he had lost her. Making a sharp turn to the right, he ducked under a table and through a small hole in the wall. After crawling a short distance he found himself alone in a backstreet behind the shops. He and other children often used these service alleys (passing through tunnels made for cats), but he always felt uncomfortable and vulnerable in them - no crowds meant no cover to blend into.
The boy quickly and quietly moved through the alley, silently passing into a shop (almost literally under the shop owner's nose) and out into another alley. He knew the alleys well - a street urchin had to in order to make a living: being able to escape was an essential skill for his kind.
Finally, after passing through a labyrinth of shops and alleys, he found himself standing in front of a dilapidated building, the remains of a once grand store, it's doors and windows now boarded up. He cautiously looked up and down the deserted street before pulling a board from one of the windows. Squeezing inside, he then reached out and replaced the board. There were many children inside, the majority of them thieves, all of them orphaned, either having been left to rot on the streets by their parents, or washed out from training to be monks. None of them seemed to pay him any mind - he was nothing special here, just another face passing through for the night. The abandoned shops in the corners of the market were rarely checked (if ever) by the city guard, and the only adults to visit were information brokers seeking to hire the odd child to collect illicit information from various individuals, offering food or the odd gold coin.
He made his way up stairs and found an empty room. Kneeling, he emptied the contents of the handbag onto the dusty surface of a table: a mirror, several pieces of makeup, a vicious looking knife, and a bag of gold coins - quite the haul!
Emptying the bag of coins into his hand, he began to count them - all the while, a shadowy figure silently crept through the broken window. When he ran out of numbers (street urchins can only count so high), he started counting another pile, and another, and another as the shadow moved noiselessly across the room behind him.
He had eight stacks of gold coins so far, each twelve high - and he still had more to count. As he pulled out more coins he felt something else in the bag. Pulling it out, he found that it was a dull pewter vial, the top sealed by a metal clasp. Moving it around in his hands, he could feel liquid churning inside. He sat the bag of coins on the table and made to open the vial.
Suddenly, he felt a strange, cold sensation on his neck: a knife blade.
"I'll have my things back, thief," said a voice from behind him. He watched as the woman's free hand swept everything back into the handbag. His eyes went to the door. Downstairs he heard the crash of the front door and the screams of the children mixed with the voices of grown men.
"Catch every last one of them!" yelled one of the men downstairs. "I want this rat's nest cleared in five minutes!"
He was frozen. What had he done?
"And this," said the woman, taking the vial out of his hands.
The door burst open. Two members of the town guard rushed in, followed by two men dressed in black hooded robes.
"Baroness, have you recovered your personal affects?" asked one of the guards.
"Yes, I have, captain. This is the one who stole my handbag," she said, kicking the boy across the floor. "Have him separated from the others - I'd like to deal with him myself." She slipped her blade back into it's sheath with a snap.
"Yes, Baroness," said the captain as he and his cohort roughly picked the boy up from the floor.
She didn't look down at him as she passed by, disregarding his presence now that the hunt had come to an end.
"Come," she said to the hooded men as she moved across the room, "we're very late." They bowed their heads and followed her outside. While the woman had moved silently before, like a shadow, her footsteps now rang out confidently on the wood floor, echoing over the muffled sobs of the children downstairs.
Copyright 2013 by Eric Greer. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
For Boredom's Sake: Eric's Tale - Chapter 11: Out in the Cold... Again
For Boredom's Sake: Eric's Tale
Chapter 11: Out in the Cold... Again
By Eric Greer
It didn't take long for Eric's greedy side to regret wasting a coin on such a grand exit. But, the greedy regret was soon replaced by a physical one as he was seemingly torn apart by razor sharp snow carried by icy winds. The weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse since he had woken up - squinting, he could barely make out the buildings to his left, let alone the ships to his right.
He eventually managed to make it to the docks without blindly falling into the frigid ocean.There he found two men standing next to the gangplanks to their respective ships, each bundled in comically large but totally appropriate coats, with their hoods up and tightened, leaving only enough open space to see out of. It was at this moment that Eric realized that he didn't know which ship he had chartered - an embarrassing mistake to say the least.
"I say, my good man," he said to the nearest one, his teeth chattering as the wind beat his face. "This ship wouldn't happen to be going to Audier, would it? I met the captain of one of these fine sailing vessels and managed to secure passage away from this dire, wind-pummeled rock."
Turning his entire body towards Eric, the man stared for a few moments before mumbling something unintelligible through his hood and turned away again.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that, my good man," said Eric, stepping closer to the man, hoping to better hear him.
Turning again, the man mumbled something indecipherable, though with a more aggressive tone, before pushing Eric away from the gangplank.
"I say! I was just asking a question!"
The man turned once more, this time waving his hands, gesturing for him to leave, as he continued to mumble aggressively.
"Fine!" he said, channeling his aggravation into an intense posh attitude. "I shall ask your counterpart over yonder! Perhaps he'll be more forthcoming! Good day to you, sir!" And with that he put his nose into the air and made his way further down the dock.
"Greetings!" he said when he had reached the other man, huddling close to him. "Would this fine sailing vessel be headed for Audier, by any cha-"
The man had started aggressively mumbling at Eric, and with a heavy shove to his chest, Eric found himself careening to the ground.
"By the gods! Have you no decency? No sense of politeness?" he exclaimed as he picked himself up off the ground. "This is an outrage! A travesty! All I asked was a simple question! Is this ship going to Audier? Is this ship going to Audier? Is? This? Ship? Going? To? Audier? Audier? AUDIER?" he said, enthusiastically waving from the ship to the open ocean to the east.
The man simply ignored him.
"Damn it all," said Eric, turning away. He looked around, hoping to find something to shield himself from the wind, which seemed to be coming from all directions. A few moments later he was huddled up amidst a group of barrels within eyesight of the gangplanks, his knees pressed against his chest.
"Lord Bamphris! Lord Bamphris!"
Eric had seen the captain and his companions arrive at the first gangplank. He had watched them share words with the asshole standing guard. He had even seen said asshole vaguely point in his direction. And he had watched as the captain made his way over to him. But he had been too cold to will himself to do anything.
"E-E-E-r-r-in-n B-B-B-B-B-B-B-am-ph-ph-ph-ris-s-s-s, a-at y-y-ou-r-r ser-r-v-v-ice, s-s-sir-r-r," he managed to stammer through the chill, not getting up.
"Lads, get him on board before his arse freezes to the dock," laughed the captain, waving at his companions.
They each took hold of his shoulders and heaved him up to his feet, then dragged him across the dock, past the aforementioned asshole, and up the gangplank, across the deck, and through a door. That's all he remembered before finally falling asleep.
When he had told the captain that he would be willing to sleep in a closet, it had been in jest, but in a closet was where he had awoken. He found himself curled up on the hard wooden floor, covered in a blanket, his head lying on his bag. A dim stream of light was pouring in from below the door. He could feel the ship moving with the waves. They must have left Saros.
Standing up, he wrapped his blanket around him and prepared to open the door.
"Well, at least you've managed to get off of that rock," said a voice from behind him.
He turned around, but it was too dark to make anything out. Suddenly he felt a light blow to his forehead and the snap of fingers as a small candle ignited above him.
"Dammit," he said, rubbing his head, "why are you here? Are you following me?"
"I'm just checking in," said Cyril, scratching his neck, his voice as lazy as ever.
"Well, you've checked in, now get out of here!"
"Alright, have it your way," he said. And with that Eric was once again struck in the forehead. When he opened his eyes, Cyril was gone. "But I'll be back!" said his disembodied voice.
Copyright 2013 by Eric Greer. All rights reserved.
Chapter 11: Out in the Cold... Again
By Eric Greer
It didn't take long for Eric's greedy side to regret wasting a coin on such a grand exit. But, the greedy regret was soon replaced by a physical one as he was seemingly torn apart by razor sharp snow carried by icy winds. The weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse since he had woken up - squinting, he could barely make out the buildings to his left, let alone the ships to his right.
He eventually managed to make it to the docks without blindly falling into the frigid ocean.There he found two men standing next to the gangplanks to their respective ships, each bundled in comically large but totally appropriate coats, with their hoods up and tightened, leaving only enough open space to see out of. It was at this moment that Eric realized that he didn't know which ship he had chartered - an embarrassing mistake to say the least.
"I say, my good man," he said to the nearest one, his teeth chattering as the wind beat his face. "This ship wouldn't happen to be going to Audier, would it? I met the captain of one of these fine sailing vessels and managed to secure passage away from this dire, wind-pummeled rock."
Turning his entire body towards Eric, the man stared for a few moments before mumbling something unintelligible through his hood and turned away again.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that, my good man," said Eric, stepping closer to the man, hoping to better hear him.
Turning again, the man mumbled something indecipherable, though with a more aggressive tone, before pushing Eric away from the gangplank.
"I say! I was just asking a question!"
The man turned once more, this time waving his hands, gesturing for him to leave, as he continued to mumble aggressively.
"Fine!" he said, channeling his aggravation into an intense posh attitude. "I shall ask your counterpart over yonder! Perhaps he'll be more forthcoming! Good day to you, sir!" And with that he put his nose into the air and made his way further down the dock.
"Greetings!" he said when he had reached the other man, huddling close to him. "Would this fine sailing vessel be headed for Audier, by any cha-"
The man had started aggressively mumbling at Eric, and with a heavy shove to his chest, Eric found himself careening to the ground.
"By the gods! Have you no decency? No sense of politeness?" he exclaimed as he picked himself up off the ground. "This is an outrage! A travesty! All I asked was a simple question! Is this ship going to Audier? Is this ship going to Audier? Is? This? Ship? Going? To? Audier? Audier? AUDIER?" he said, enthusiastically waving from the ship to the open ocean to the east.
The man simply ignored him.
"Damn it all," said Eric, turning away. He looked around, hoping to find something to shield himself from the wind, which seemed to be coming from all directions. A few moments later he was huddled up amidst a group of barrels within eyesight of the gangplanks, his knees pressed against his chest.
"Lord Bamphris! Lord Bamphris!"
Eric had seen the captain and his companions arrive at the first gangplank. He had watched them share words with the asshole standing guard. He had even seen said asshole vaguely point in his direction. And he had watched as the captain made his way over to him. But he had been too cold to will himself to do anything.
"E-E-E-r-r-in-n B-B-B-B-B-B-B-am-ph-ph-ph-ris-s-s-s, a-at y-y-ou-r-r ser-r-v-v-ice, s-s-sir-r-r," he managed to stammer through the chill, not getting up.
"Lads, get him on board before his arse freezes to the dock," laughed the captain, waving at his companions.
They each took hold of his shoulders and heaved him up to his feet, then dragged him across the dock, past the aforementioned asshole, and up the gangplank, across the deck, and through a door. That's all he remembered before finally falling asleep.
When he had told the captain that he would be willing to sleep in a closet, it had been in jest, but in a closet was where he had awoken. He found himself curled up on the hard wooden floor, covered in a blanket, his head lying on his bag. A dim stream of light was pouring in from below the door. He could feel the ship moving with the waves. They must have left Saros.
Standing up, he wrapped his blanket around him and prepared to open the door.
"Well, at least you've managed to get off of that rock," said a voice from behind him.
He turned around, but it was too dark to make anything out. Suddenly he felt a light blow to his forehead and the snap of fingers as a small candle ignited above him.
"Dammit," he said, rubbing his head, "why are you here? Are you following me?"
"I'm just checking in," said Cyril, scratching his neck, his voice as lazy as ever.
"Well, you've checked in, now get out of here!"
"Alright, have it your way," he said. And with that Eric was once again struck in the forehead. When he opened his eyes, Cyril was gone. "But I'll be back!" said his disembodied voice.
Copyright 2013 by Eric Greer. All rights reserved.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
For Boredom's Sake: Eric's Tale - Chapter 10: Introducing Erin Bamphris
For Boredom's Sake: Eric's Tale
Chapter 10: Introducing Erin Bamphris
By Eric Greer
Eric was tired. It felt as if he had slept for fourteen months or so, but it was really only twelve hours. He hadn't meant to sleep so long, but after such a long and wearisome journey, his body decided otherwise.
As he walked across the room to stretch his legs, he peered out through the frosted windows. Outside he was relieved to see that the two ships were still at port, with men scurrying around the docks, fighting the frigid winds as they quickly unloaded the ships of their cargo, placing the large crates and barrels onto small wagons to be pulled into the nearby warehouses.
Walking down the stairs into the tavern, he spied the Liam fellow slouched in the far corner. His faced was obscured by his hands, but he was easily recognizable by his brown robes and the broken harp still hanging from his back.
"How was your night, apprentice adventurer?" he asked as he sat down beside him, heartily slapping the man on shoulder.
"Quite terrible, I'm afraid," said Liam, lowering his hand as he looked up.
"By the gods, man, what has happened to your face?" exclaimed Eric. The lad now sported a swollen lip and a blackened left eye.
"The ladies were very kind, and I quite enjoyed myself while it lasted, but they weren't too pleased to find that I had no money to give them for their services. The elder sister has quite a fist," he said, rubbing his eye.
Eric could hardly stifle his laugh.
"I would say that I'm sorry for putting you in such a situation, but I would be lying," he said, setting free the swelled up laughter.
Liam slumped down into his chair, once again covering his face.
Suddenly, the door to the whores' room opened, and out came the sisters, looking quite worse for wear. Seeing them, Liam somehow managed to shrink himself down even more, looking all the more pathetic. Turning slightly, he started to say something - until he realized that Eric was no longer seated next to him, but two tables over.
Liam looked flabbergasted that he hadn't heard the man get up. Shaking his head, he tried to get his attention while at the same time trying to conceal himself from the sisters'. Seeing this, Eric awkwardly averted his gaze away from the lad, suddenly finding the filthy chandelier above them quite interesting.
"Mornin'," grunted the innkeeper as he walked to Eric's table and picked up a few derelict mugs. "Sleep well?"
"Well, actually-" he started, but the innkeeper simply moped back to the bar, his arms dangling limply at his sides. "Lovely. Just lovely," he said to himself sarcastically. He was now sure that for this inn to still be in business, it must be the only on in Tal - or Saros for that matter.
Getting up, he walked up to the bar.
Looking up, the innkeeper pulled a face and groaned, setting the mugs onto the bar. "Oh gods, now what?"
"I was just going to ask if the captains of the ships outside had been in this morning," he said, becoming quite aggravated. Customer service was obviously not a priority at this establishment.
"Look, I don't know," groaned the man as he placed the uncleaned mugs back into the cupboard below the bar. "Do you really expect me to keep up with every person who comes into the inn?" he asked, waving his hand across the room. Looking, Eric saw only the three whores talking to the innkeeper's wife, a man dozing near the hearth, and Liam tucked away in the corner. As he turned around, he saw the door behind the bar close and heard loud string of cursing from within.
"The gods must have cursed this rock," he said, going back to his table.
As he made his way across the room, the front door opened as three sailors entered the room, loudly talking to one another over the howling wind - or so Eric thought: even after they had closed the door, they continued to obnoxiously converse in raised voices, bellowing with laughter. As they walked across the room to the bar, Eric attempted to tune them out - until one of them stereotypically said, "Aye, cap'n!'
Almost falling out of his seat, Eric turned and watched as the trio made their way across the room.
"I say, are you the captain of one of those two fine sailing vessels moored in the harbor?" he asked, attempting his best posh accent. He figured that if he could trick them into thinking that he was a rich, wayward traveler, they might try to take advantage of his naive self (and his wallet) - thus making it easier for him to secure passage off of Saros.
"Aye, mister..." said the man in the middle. No gaudy, oversized hat, unfortunately.
"Bamphris. Erin Bamphris of the house Bamphris, my good man," he lied in a posh accent, walking to the bar and shaking the captain's hand. He recalled conning a man by that name some time ago, a rich, miserly baron of some sort. At best they might recognize the name and lend his story some credibility, and at the very least it would provide him cover. "Fate has dealt me a cruel hand I'm afraid: I came to this isle a few weeks ago on the good ship Pimpherninny on the promise of some adventure. Unfortunately, I was waylaid by a few bandits outside of one of the villages south of here. They took my clothes and my baggage and left me to fend for myself in the wild South." He began to sob slightly, attempting to appear to be in a tizzy.
"Unfortunate indeed, but how does this concern me?" asked the captain.
"Well, like I said, I was waylaid, and though they stole all of my clothes, they did not find my pocket gold hidden in my secret spot," he said, with a sly wink (this appeared to make the captain slightly uncomfortable). "A kindly villager found me and nursed me back to health, in addition to clothing my nakedness. But, by the time I reached Tal, the Pimpherninny had set sail without me. Now I find myself in need of passage my good captain."
"My ship ain't no cruise ship, Lord Bamphris," the captain said gruffly.
"I understand, captain, but I believe I have enough money to secure a small room and a little food to maintain me. I shant be a nuisance, I promise! I understand your course is set for Steven's Town?"
"Steven's Town? No, we're going to Audier to the north," replied the captain.
"Oh, excellent! Even better!" he said excitedly, clapping his hands together. "What say you, captain? Do you have a small room on your ship for someone like myself?"
"I don't know..." said the captain.
"Oh, please, captain! Even a closet would do!"
The captain looked at his companions. Neither of them looked very bright, though one looked rather smitten with Lord Bamphris; that certainly was not expected.
"Sixty gold pieces and we have a deal. But," he said, "you stay out of the way."
"Oh, marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! I shall be as quiet as a whisper, my good sirs!" For added effect, he jumped up and down, silently clapping his hands."
"Aye, we've just finished unloading the last of the cargo. My mates and I were just about to pay the sisters one final visit before we go," he said, nodding to the whores in the corner, bickering at one another.
"Oh, that's... nice... of you," he said. "It's good that you take care of the help, I suppose."
"Aye. We should be casting off within the hour, so be down at the docks before we set sail," he said.
"Will do, oh captain, my captain!" said Eric, er, I mean Erin, saluting the captain and his mates.
"Actually," said the captain, turning around. "The boys and I could use a little extra coin. It's going to be a long journey. How's about you pay up front?"
"Oh, why of course," he said, digging through his pockets for the satchel of coins. A few moments later he had sixty coins in his hands. "Here you go, my good man!"
"Thanks, matey. Remember, within the hour."
"Yes, sir!" said Erin in mock excitement, saluting the sailors once more.
And with that the three of them walked across the room to the whores. The lead sister stood up, but before she could say anything, the captain dropped his coin satchel between her breasts, and in unison, the sailors picked up the girls and ran to their room, as the girls giggled and mocked screamed.
Sixty coins up front. That left him with just enough With that he proceeded to order some breakfast, eat it as messily as possible, and flirt with the innkeeper's wife. By the time Eric had started kissing the woman passionately, the innkeeper charged at him - then found himself on the floor after being punched square in the face, covered in his own blood.
"Customer service really is important, you know," gloated Eric as he stood above the man, his arm around his awe-struck wife.
"Mugaflob," was all the innkeeper could muster as Eric leaned down and placed his last coin on his bloodied forehead. He was fairly certain his nose was broken.
Placing his room key in her hands, and with a final kiss on the woman's forehead, Eric raised his head high and left, leaving the front door open as he headed for the docks.
In the corner, Liam watched in shock at everything that had happened. He waited several minutes to find the courage to get up and leave, but when the innkeeper began to stir, he made due with fear and bolted out the door.
Copyright 2013 by Eric Greer. All rights reserved.
Chapter 10: Introducing Erin Bamphris
By Eric Greer
Eric was tired. It felt as if he had slept for fourteen months or so, but it was really only twelve hours. He hadn't meant to sleep so long, but after such a long and wearisome journey, his body decided otherwise.
As he walked across the room to stretch his legs, he peered out through the frosted windows. Outside he was relieved to see that the two ships were still at port, with men scurrying around the docks, fighting the frigid winds as they quickly unloaded the ships of their cargo, placing the large crates and barrels onto small wagons to be pulled into the nearby warehouses.
Walking down the stairs into the tavern, he spied the Liam fellow slouched in the far corner. His faced was obscured by his hands, but he was easily recognizable by his brown robes and the broken harp still hanging from his back.
"How was your night, apprentice adventurer?" he asked as he sat down beside him, heartily slapping the man on shoulder.
"Quite terrible, I'm afraid," said Liam, lowering his hand as he looked up.
"By the gods, man, what has happened to your face?" exclaimed Eric. The lad now sported a swollen lip and a blackened left eye.
"The ladies were very kind, and I quite enjoyed myself while it lasted, but they weren't too pleased to find that I had no money to give them for their services. The elder sister has quite a fist," he said, rubbing his eye.
Eric could hardly stifle his laugh.
"I would say that I'm sorry for putting you in such a situation, but I would be lying," he said, setting free the swelled up laughter.
Liam slumped down into his chair, once again covering his face.
Suddenly, the door to the whores' room opened, and out came the sisters, looking quite worse for wear. Seeing them, Liam somehow managed to shrink himself down even more, looking all the more pathetic. Turning slightly, he started to say something - until he realized that Eric was no longer seated next to him, but two tables over.
Liam looked flabbergasted that he hadn't heard the man get up. Shaking his head, he tried to get his attention while at the same time trying to conceal himself from the sisters'. Seeing this, Eric awkwardly averted his gaze away from the lad, suddenly finding the filthy chandelier above them quite interesting.
"Mornin'," grunted the innkeeper as he walked to Eric's table and picked up a few derelict mugs. "Sleep well?"
"Well, actually-" he started, but the innkeeper simply moped back to the bar, his arms dangling limply at his sides. "Lovely. Just lovely," he said to himself sarcastically. He was now sure that for this inn to still be in business, it must be the only on in Tal - or Saros for that matter.
Getting up, he walked up to the bar.
Looking up, the innkeeper pulled a face and groaned, setting the mugs onto the bar. "Oh gods, now what?"
"I was just going to ask if the captains of the ships outside had been in this morning," he said, becoming quite aggravated. Customer service was obviously not a priority at this establishment.
"Look, I don't know," groaned the man as he placed the uncleaned mugs back into the cupboard below the bar. "Do you really expect me to keep up with every person who comes into the inn?" he asked, waving his hand across the room. Looking, Eric saw only the three whores talking to the innkeeper's wife, a man dozing near the hearth, and Liam tucked away in the corner. As he turned around, he saw the door behind the bar close and heard loud string of cursing from within.
"The gods must have cursed this rock," he said, going back to his table.
As he made his way across the room, the front door opened as three sailors entered the room, loudly talking to one another over the howling wind - or so Eric thought: even after they had closed the door, they continued to obnoxiously converse in raised voices, bellowing with laughter. As they walked across the room to the bar, Eric attempted to tune them out - until one of them stereotypically said, "Aye, cap'n!'
Almost falling out of his seat, Eric turned and watched as the trio made their way across the room.
"I say, are you the captain of one of those two fine sailing vessels moored in the harbor?" he asked, attempting his best posh accent. He figured that if he could trick them into thinking that he was a rich, wayward traveler, they might try to take advantage of his naive self (and his wallet) - thus making it easier for him to secure passage off of Saros.
"Aye, mister..." said the man in the middle. No gaudy, oversized hat, unfortunately.
"Bamphris. Erin Bamphris of the house Bamphris, my good man," he lied in a posh accent, walking to the bar and shaking the captain's hand. He recalled conning a man by that name some time ago, a rich, miserly baron of some sort. At best they might recognize the name and lend his story some credibility, and at the very least it would provide him cover. "Fate has dealt me a cruel hand I'm afraid: I came to this isle a few weeks ago on the good ship Pimpherninny on the promise of some adventure. Unfortunately, I was waylaid by a few bandits outside of one of the villages south of here. They took my clothes and my baggage and left me to fend for myself in the wild South." He began to sob slightly, attempting to appear to be in a tizzy.
"Unfortunate indeed, but how does this concern me?" asked the captain.
"Well, like I said, I was waylaid, and though they stole all of my clothes, they did not find my pocket gold hidden in my secret spot," he said, with a sly wink (this appeared to make the captain slightly uncomfortable). "A kindly villager found me and nursed me back to health, in addition to clothing my nakedness. But, by the time I reached Tal, the Pimpherninny had set sail without me. Now I find myself in need of passage my good captain."
"My ship ain't no cruise ship, Lord Bamphris," the captain said gruffly.
"I understand, captain, but I believe I have enough money to secure a small room and a little food to maintain me. I shant be a nuisance, I promise! I understand your course is set for Steven's Town?"
"Steven's Town? No, we're going to Audier to the north," replied the captain.
"Oh, excellent! Even better!" he said excitedly, clapping his hands together. "What say you, captain? Do you have a small room on your ship for someone like myself?"
"I don't know..." said the captain.
"Oh, please, captain! Even a closet would do!"
The captain looked at his companions. Neither of them looked very bright, though one looked rather smitten with Lord Bamphris; that certainly was not expected.
"Sixty gold pieces and we have a deal. But," he said, "you stay out of the way."
"Oh, marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! I shall be as quiet as a whisper, my good sirs!" For added effect, he jumped up and down, silently clapping his hands."
"Aye, we've just finished unloading the last of the cargo. My mates and I were just about to pay the sisters one final visit before we go," he said, nodding to the whores in the corner, bickering at one another.
"Oh, that's... nice... of you," he said. "It's good that you take care of the help, I suppose."
"Aye. We should be casting off within the hour, so be down at the docks before we set sail," he said.
"Will do, oh captain, my captain!" said Eric, er, I mean Erin, saluting the captain and his mates.
"Actually," said the captain, turning around. "The boys and I could use a little extra coin. It's going to be a long journey. How's about you pay up front?"
"Oh, why of course," he said, digging through his pockets for the satchel of coins. A few moments later he had sixty coins in his hands. "Here you go, my good man!"
"Thanks, matey. Remember, within the hour."
"Yes, sir!" said Erin in mock excitement, saluting the sailors once more.
And with that the three of them walked across the room to the whores. The lead sister stood up, but before she could say anything, the captain dropped his coin satchel between her breasts, and in unison, the sailors picked up the girls and ran to their room, as the girls giggled and mocked screamed.
Sixty coins up front. That left him with just enough With that he proceeded to order some breakfast, eat it as messily as possible, and flirt with the innkeeper's wife. By the time Eric had started kissing the woman passionately, the innkeeper charged at him - then found himself on the floor after being punched square in the face, covered in his own blood.
"Customer service really is important, you know," gloated Eric as he stood above the man, his arm around his awe-struck wife.
"Mugaflob," was all the innkeeper could muster as Eric leaned down and placed his last coin on his bloodied forehead. He was fairly certain his nose was broken.
Placing his room key in her hands, and with a final kiss on the woman's forehead, Eric raised his head high and left, leaving the front door open as he headed for the docks.
In the corner, Liam watched in shock at everything that had happened. He waited several minutes to find the courage to get up and leave, but when the innkeeper began to stir, he made due with fear and bolted out the door.
Copyright 2013 by Eric Greer. All rights reserved.
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