Thursday, May 1, 2014

The Great Goat Herd of the Small Abbey of Secret Wisdom--Part 5

“You know, I suggest we look on the bright side,” stated Gwydd, as they sat down in the common room.

“That’s an innovative approach from you,” noted Faileuba.

The Goblin glared at the younger Erl. “I’m trying to be positive,” he stated. “I acknowledge it is difficult for me. But I like some support on it, damn it.”

“Well, I’ll try, but let’s be honest here,” noted Faileuba, “things aren’t very nice. We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, you’ve got us paying for a private room, and Meliadus is dancing for our supper.” She turned to Holdfast, who was cheerfully tapping away on the floor to the rather baffled gazes of much of the audience. “How’s it going?”

“I think they’re warming to me,” said Meliadus.

“I can’t believe he thinks that people would pay to watch that,” said Gwydd quietly.

“Hey, I would, if I had money,” replied Faileuba. “Wooo! Shake that thing, Holdfast!”

“Well, let’s hope that our fellow guests share your… taste,” said Gwydd. “That might just pay us all the way to Tremisona.”

Faileuba rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m appreciative of the arts, but I’m not crazy,” she noted. “No way that’s happening. Which means your plan continues to have a giant sized hole in it. The size of the distance to Tremisona from wherever the hells we are…”

“Bogle’s Corner,” said the waitress.

Faileuba blinked. “You’re kidding.” The waitress shook her head. “Only in the Fangs,” sighed Faileuba.

“Ehh, I knew some pretty weird little town names in the Shadow Woods,” noted Gwydd.

“Yeah, yeah,” agreed Faileuba. “And then there was the Prince of Dead Leaves’ castle.” She chuckled to herself. “What idiot calls his home the Sinister Fist?”

“I think it was his grandfather,” answered Gwydd. “Or… great-grandfather.”

“Pardon me,” said a thin man clad in bright green robes, and wearing an enormous tower of a hat, “but did I hear you say you were going to Tremisona?”

“If we can get there,” said Gwydd.

The man smiled. “I have some business in Tremisona,” he noted. “And… well, I’d appreciate an escort.”

Faileuba raised an eyebrow. “Really? And how much would you be willing to pay?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” said the man. “Most of it would be food and shelter along the way.”

“Well, that’s a bit low by our standards,” began Faileuba.

“Your tall friend there makes that much by dancing in common rooms?” asked the thin man with a smile.

Faileuba and Gwydd looked at each other. “Damn it,” said Faileuba, “he’s on to us.”

“So, what’s the job?,” asked Gwydd quietly.

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