by kaylor » Sat Feb 25, 2012 5:34 pm
Concealing his identity beneath the heavy mantle of a crimson velvet cloak, a dark figure seeking dark knowledge strode with staunch purpose toward the trestle. He was determined to see this night's venture reap its benefit, concern for himself trivial over that for the man to whom his fealty had most recently been sworn.
"Wine." Kaylor's tone was measured firm, laced with deliberate aplomb. "And a morsel of disclosure, if it please you." He locked eyes with the barkeep, maintaining steady gaze as he lifted a hand, slowly unfolding his fingers to reveal a sizable sum of gold coins resting in his palm.
"Well now," the barkeep winked, lowering his voice to a whispered timbre as he reached to relieve Kaylor of the coins. "You know what they say . . . Grace is given of God, but knowledge is bought in the market."
Kaylor scowled, his utterance icy warning. "A perception best you keep silent, sir."
"Little passes before me without recognition, sir." Pocketing the gold he poured a glass of wine and placed it on the counter between them. "What forces you to hide tonight, Templar? From what I witnessed not a fortnight ago, your skill with a blade affords sparse room for reproach."
"Let acumen give way to answer then." Kaylor lifted the glass to his lips, the wine providing a moment's sweet solace in the midst of bitter circumstance. "That unfortunate fray to which you thus refer, have you awareness of any related predisposing arbitration?"
"Hmmmm." The barkeep refilled Kaylor's glass, then set the bottle down and proffered forth his empty palm.
"Damn you whoreson!" Kaylor swore under his breath. "Did I not just fill your greed beyond sufficient?"
"Tsk. Tsk. Such language from a man of God."
Kaylor lowered his hand, but it was not gold for which he reached as he closed his grasp over the hilt of the dagger sheathed at his waist. "Speak answer or speak no more," he hissed, drawing the weapon with deft speed and lost patience.
The barkeep took a quick step back, then leaned slightly forward and replied in shaken voice. "The attack was paid for by a man cloaked in abyssal cloth, an obsidian bow clenched tightly in hand as though possessive of great power. Conversation overheard carried your name and that of Lord Chalnoth Tholl of PAS, but his identity and reason remained obscure."
Silence briefly separating the two men, Kaylor resheathed the dagger before lowering his head. "Gratitude," he whispered, "however unwillingly offered the information. Please accept sincere apology for forced means." But my liege's life lay in its acquisition were the knight's unspoken words as he took his leave.