Completed Vintage Dwarven Wine

[Scythe and Nyght]

Oh. The halfling wanted something. It took Scythe and Nyght a moment for that realization to even filter in. It was that feeling. You know, that feeling. The one where you're so deep into something that someone trying to get your attention equated to--oh they didn't know--a little touch of a feather or a slight breeze of wind on the neck. There, but not really noticeable. Only when you have that "oh shit, he's talking to me" moment does that feather become a bludgeoning rock or that breeze a sharp gale. Then you snap out of it and pay attention.

They each glanced over to the halfling.

"He wasn't part of the deal," Scythe called back.
"Yeah, fuck that guy," Nyght called back.

And it was only then that they registered all the things the halfling had been saying before they were paying attention. All that shit they had passively heard, yeah, but paid no mind to. Oh. Hm. Guess the halfling was tryin' to work over a little somethin' on that guy. Rupert? Was that his name? Something like that. They'd remember if they really needed to.

Okay then. Unfuck the situation.

"But he could be," Scythe called back.
"If he plays his cards right," Nyght called back.

Scythe and Nyght stopped kicking around debris and stood by the stables with their thumbs in their belts again. Didn't bother to go back over to the halfling. Not yet. Either he'd get some shit done or he wouldn't, and their relative proximity to him wouldn't really change that one way or the other.

So they just glanced around the marketplace. Eyeing the layout this little part of the city. Hiding spots. Windows. Corners. All the good stuff for later, maybe.

You just never knew.

 

[Seredic]

Seredic sighed heavily, just his luck being stuck with two stupid and selfish mercenaries. Seriously, Seredic have met friendlier mercenaries than these two nitwits and they were more battle-hardened. "You two aren't helping!" Seredic shouted. "At all!"

Quickly turning to the frightened and shaking Ebert, Seredic smiled sheepishly. "My companions are more compassionate than they let on," he said secretly taking out a small coin purse from his back pocket and secretly tossing to their direction. "They are more than willing assist you on who these people are provided that divulge the information."

Ebert wiped his tears that were still falling down his face. "That badge," he said. "Is the symbol of the Black Falcons. They are one of the largest and most professional organization of sellswords in Arethril."

Seredic stroked his beard. "I've heard of them," he said. "They are highly organized for a group of mercenary and are known to remain loyal to their employer. Many battles have been won thanks to the Black Falcons backing."

"Well," Ebert began. "I-I'm not who I say I am. I owe the Bank of Alliria a debt, I invested in a baking business using the bank's coin a year ago but when it went under I didn't have money to pay the bank."

Seredic frowned. "Usually the bank is a bit lenient when it comes to debt," he said.

"I wasn't the most reliable of investors," Ebert said. "I fled to the Savanah desert and I hope to evade any pursers. But it seemed that the Bank unleashed the Black Falcons on me. Two people: A man and a woman tried to kill me but they vanished."

"Where?" Seredic said.

"Last I saw," Ebert replied. "It was in the Library."

Seredic then turned to his companions. "I was going there anyway," he said. "Come on you two let's get these people and clear our names."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Hot damn, they didn't even intend to make a little more coin off of that exchange. Alls they were tryin' to do was help the halfling fleece that sap for information. You know, make him think he's protected or whatever the hell he wanted, get the info, then ditch. Alright, shit, if it meant more coin for them, roll this sap into the halfling's little package deal. No pun intended.

It wasn't like they couldn't split if things went horrifically sideways. Hopefully no pun intended.

Nyght's body caught the pouch that was tossed to them, and tossed it to Scythe's body. They had to distribute the weight of these coins just a smidge. Fuck, any more and they'd never be able to sneak out of Maraan--too much goddamn clinking and clattering. This was proof that some problems weren't really problems, just wins with complications. And they'd take that any day of the week.

Well. The halfling got the fleecing done, it seemed. Scythe and Nyght perked up from their inane kicking of debris when he said for them two to come on. Huh. How 'bout that. Get these two people, eh?

Scythe and Nyght came along after the halfling. Let him lead the way. That was probably for the best; they had no idea where the fuck they were going; they didn't listen to that part. Didn't matter. They'd do the dirty work once they got there.

Still though...

"You think there actually are people for us to get?" said Scythe.
"We just figured the lawmen were stringing us up for some other shit," said Nyght.
"Or because they felt like it."
"Probably especially because they felt like it."
"Is it uncouth to use two adverbs like that?"

They kept walking. One body keeping eyes on the halfling, the other keeping eyes on the surrounding marketplace and the people therein, the transition between which body was doing what seamless and often.

 

[Seredic]

Seredic continued to walk through the market district, it was the largest part in Maraan to the point where the rest of the districts were cramped just to accommodate the merchants. Seredic has read plenty of complaints from newsletters by residents saying how the leaders are more focused on taking care of foreign traders than their own people. It seems that Maraan needs to take a page from Alliria's book about how to properly please traders and their inhabitants.

He had no idea where the Library was at, allegedly one can tell where the Library is was by following the Black Falcon that was perched up on top. The Halfling looked up shielding his hands eyes from the blaring sun as he saw a large statue of a Falcon surprisingly not too far way. "It seems that our friend was serious," Seredic said. "If there's one thing that I've heard about these Black Falcons, they're not to be trifled with."

Which made him wonder if Samuel and Samantha can even handle well trained mercenaries. Hopefully they can but Seredic had some serious doubts. At last the trio arrived at the Westwing Library. There were plenty of Libraries in Maaran but the Westwing Library was the most famous. It was said to store the lore of most of the Savannah. The black doors automatically opened as Seredic was greeted by swath of books and floating about. "Hmm," he said. "This Library is operated by magic."

At least the Library looked more decorative than what was outside. "Our friends shouldn't been here too long," Seredic said. "They were wearing hoods that had the symbol of the Black Falcons. Should be easy to spot since they stick out like a needle in a Haystack."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

If there's one thing that I've heard about these Black Falcons, they're not to be trifled with.

Scythe and Nyght looked at each other. Or, rather, Scythe's body looked at Nyght's body. Old habits and all. And the view was weird too. Imagine looking into a mirror. Got it? Now, not only can you see yourself looking into the mirror--like normal--but you can also see what your reflection sees, looking back at you, at the same time. They got used to that in time, but still.

Anyway.

"Black Falcons?" said Nyght.
"We're fighting birds?" said Scythe.
"I never did like birds."
"Yeah, fuck birds. With their wings and shit."
"Wait. Did we miss something?"

They probably did. The halfling was talking with that Rupert guy for a while, and, well, while they heard things being said, but they didn't hear what was being said. A subtle distinction, that, but one that made all the difference. Ah. You know. They weren't exactly keen on doin' the lawman's dirty work anyway. Yeah, the halfling's near bottomless reservoir of coin smoothed the shit deal over to an acceptable level, but that didn't mean they had to be enthusiastic about this. They just had to get it done (or not, Plan B was still an option).

They approached at last a building that the halfling seemed--

Holy fuck, those doors just opened by themselves.

Scythe and Nyght followed the halfling in. Gawked at the place and its random, floating papers and books and all that scholarly stuff. Also, the place looked way too rich for their blood. Okay, so they liked to feign being sophisticated sometimes. You know, pretending to be something they'd never really be. But they were honest about it. On occasion. Only to themselves and no one else.

No need to put on airs here though. They were already sweat-drenched slobs who wanted nothing more than to vanish back to Alliria and the Reach.

Okay. So they were looking for a pair of saps wearing hoods with an easily identifiable symbol on them. Heh, dumb fucks. Not the pair of saps, but the lawmen really. Fuckin' Maraan's finest guards couldn't find these ballsacks? Just couldn't do it, huh? This halfling and two washed up raiders--see, honest--spent half an hour and figured this shit out. And most of that was the halfling. Hell, taking a big morning double-dump would be harder than pulling of Plan B here. Fuck, all they'd have to do is put on some robes or coats with a Black Falcon crest on them and they'd be practically invisible to the numbnut lawmen.

Scythe and Nyght were about to split up and search the place--a nice little perk of their mind-merging, two sets of eyes working together--when...

They both looked back at the halfling.

"Stick out like a needle in a haystack?" said Scythe.
"You fuckin' with us?" said Nyght.

They both stared. Then matching grins broke out on their faces. Yeah, he had to be fuckin' with them.

Scythe's body went right from the entrance doors and Nyght's body went left. Time to see about spotting these saps in this big ass library. Drinks and baths and sleeping the hot day away awaited them. Well, if they didn't resort to Plan B.

 

[Seredic]

If there was one thing Seredic despised was clichés. For years Seredic worked hard to avoid them usually spending hours trying to come with new phrases or even trying to put in a sardonic twist on the hackneyed phrases that have been repeated throughout the ages. The fact that a cliché one that dates back to the Age of Urogosh in fact left his lips was unfathomable it was like chanting the cryptic language to open the Pandemonium.

"Before you two disperse," Seredic muttered to Samuel and Samantha his face red from embarrassment. "The next time I utter a cliché, you have my permission to slap me across the face." Seredic needed to be vigilant, there wasn't anything worse than clichés, weeks travelling through the desert has dulled Seredic's wit. He was grateful to be in a Library, his mind needed books to recharge his wit. It was like a sword needed a whetstone days without reading will leave one's mind flat and ineffective. Seredic must avoid cliches like the plague!

He mentally sighed. "That was a cliche," he thought.

The Halfling went straight parallel of where Samuel and Samantha went off to. There was a large stair case ahead of Seredic as he mentally sighed. If there was one thing that Halflings hated more than Goblins, it was stairs. Seredic took a stubby step forward continuing to grumble along the way. These damn stairs! Why with tall people and their love for stairs?!

"Too many stairs," The Halfling grumbled his hips beginning to hurt getting closer to the top floor. "I want to find who invented the stairs and push him down these stairs. Just to show dumb of him to create stairs! Hopefully his legs will be broken rendering him unable to climb the stairs and actually think of a better transportation! One that's ergonomically beneficial like a magical portal!"

"Yes the stairs can be quite tedious can they?"

Almost immediately Seredic looked up, a man with thinning gray hair looking down on him. He was wearing a black and gold tunic with black plated metal pants. He was flanked by two soldiers each wearing black and gold armor armed with a silver longsword. On the middle of their breast plate was Golden Sun. "Um," Seredic said thinking he was a noble. "Pardon me my lord."

"You must be the famous Wine creator and critic" Seredic Stoor," the old man said. He gave a warm smile but Seredic noticed that while lips were formed into a smile, his black eyes did not follow suit. "Do I know you?" The Halfling said slowly walking up to the top so he can get a better look.

"Forgive my lack of manners," The old man said cheerfully. "I am Shilard de Epsertin: Ambassador for the Kingdom of Cintria."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Before you two disperse.

They stopped. Glanced back. Smirked. Well shit, how 'bout that. Free permission to smack the scruff off of the halfling's face the next time he said a cliché. Heh, sure.

Scythe's body veered off to the right from the entrance doors, Nyght's body off to the left. The library was big enough to warrant this splitting off. Or maybe they shouldn't. Just stroll this ridiculously oversized and overrated piece of shit and go about this at leisurely pace. Sure did feel nicer in here than outside in the city, slow-roasting under the sun. Kinda the same thing with the taverns and the inns they'd been in; people had to live out in this godawful desert somehow. These Maraanis (Maraanians? Fuck it, who cared) knew how to squeeze the most insulation against the heat as they could in their buildings.

Ah, whatever. Just stay split up on different sides of the library and walk slow. Not slow, observantly. Yes, observantly. Of course.

Scythe's body caught a glance of the halfling stumbling up that grand staircase in the middle of the main hall. Both his body and Nyght's body grinned; alright, that shit was pretty funny. How the fuck do you stumble up stairs? Did dwarves have that much trouble too? Probably not, they were admittedly playing up the halfing's troubles in their mind, but still, a chuckle was a chuckle.

Scythe's body and Nyght's body continued along opposite walls of the library. Were they going along the East end and West end, or North end and South end? Ah. Didn't matter.

Their separate bodies peered into the aisles of bookshelves, casually walked around pillars and tables, stood and waited nonchalantly when they couldn't quite get a good look at somebody and continued on their individual ways once they did. No dice on the Black Falcon goons, but damn if this wasn't a stupid amount of books all lined up in here. Who the hell had the kind of time to go through this stuff? One book, let alone a whole bookshelf's worth, let even more alone a whole section's worth, and let even fucking more alone the library's worth. And this wasn't even the only library around. Fuckin' Elbion had to be somethin' else.

Scythe's body and Nyght's body were both approaching the back wall of the library. Comin' up short on this shit. But this was just the first floor. The halfling went up to the second, and who knew what he found.

At the back wall. Scythe's body had a view out a gilded window. Nyght's body overheard the tail end of a hushed and interesting conversation between a man and a komodi about morning wood.

Both their bodies turned around. Started heading back the way they had come, still on separate sides of the library. Well, if the next floor up didn't have shit either, they still had plenty of time for that bath before putting Plan B into effect.

 

[Seredic]

The Kingdom of Cintria? Seredic heard of them. Once a mighty Kingdom that was torn apart by King Gretchin's crusades during the Age of Expansion. Last he heard, the Kingdom has been rebuilt and is on the verge of vying for its lost power. "Pleasure to meet you Ambassador," Seredic said smiling through his beard. "I never knew that I had admirers in the seclusive Kingdom of Cintria."

"Your reputation of having a dark wit has reached the Kingdom's ears," Shilard said possessing that technical smile. "I must ask what is a Halfling doing here in the middle of the desert? I take it you were escorted from the Allirian Hills?"

"No," Seredic responded leaning against the wooden pole in order to rest his aching hips. "I've traveled here all by myself."

A scoff was heard by one of Shilard's guardsmen while the old man waved his hand indicating him to stop. "I'm impressed," he said matter-of-factly. "A Halfling traveling half the world and enduring intense heat especially during the Spring when temperature can reach the hundreds."

"You'll be surprised," Seredic responded his tone a bit icy. "That Halflings find it hard to wean themselves off life."

The old man chuckled adjusting his jacket.

"Yes Halflings are remarkable creatures," Shilard said. "No matter what the situation, you can always count on a Halfling to survive and adapt. They possess the spirit of humanity."

"Mainly because we are the original humans," Seredic snapped. "Or so it says that humans evolved from Halflings."

Seredic was growing weary of Shilard, there was just something off about him. The Halfling intuition did not lie but whatever it was, it wasn't his business to know. Still there was a growing curiousity as to why Shilard was here in Maaraan. The Halfling looked around for Scythe and Nyght but those two were nowhere to be found.

"What are you doing here in Maaran Ambassador?" Seredic asked. "Shouldn't you be in Cintria?"

"I'm here securing a deal in Maaran," Shilard answered. "As you may not know, I am part of the merchant's guild of this neutral city. With the growing threat of Emperor Gerra from the south, the guild is concerned about maintaining their neutrality. I've made sure to assure them that it will not happen. If they of course agree to some concessions."

"Like asking Maaran to ally with your Kingdom?" Seredic said.

"It's business," Shilard replied shrugging. "We're just doing some business arrangements to make sure that in the event that Gerra sends his mad dog Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk on to Maaran. They will be..... taken care of. Right now, I'm cooling off in the Library reading books such as legends that lie with in the Savannah Desert."

Seredic knew the former Skah, he drank his Wine and invited Seredic and Sally for a feast once. He was a jolly man if a bit bloodthristy, when news of his death reached Seredic he had to admit he was a bit saddened. "Well once your deal is taken care of," Seredic said. "Where to next?"

"Back home," Shilard began to reach for his jacket pocket causing the Halfling to reach for his Dagger that was located in his belt. The old man took out two figurines and gave one to Seredic. Raising an eyebrow, Seredic examined the toy that was between his stubby fingers. It was a woman wearing a tight, black leather which accentuated her curves, short black hair and pointed heels. She also had a huge cleavage as well.

"You like it?" Shilard said smiling. "These are toys I intend to bring to my Grandaughther back home."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Well.

Scythe and Nyght catalogued just about everybody on the first floor. Fair enough that they may have failed to spot them--through bad timing and bad sight lines and what not--but they canvassed about as much as they felt like canvassing. Hm. Speaking of timing, what if they just, you know, missed these Black Falcon saps? Got to the library ten minutes too late or something like that? Or maybe Rupert wasn't telling the truth to begin with. Hell, they still weren't entirely convinced that there were two people to get in the first place. Yeah, sure, some building in the market got burnt down or blown up or whatever. But how the hell were they supposed to know what had really happened?

Fuck being a lawman. Puttin' all the rest of it aside, just this day-to-day shit the likes of which Scythe and Nyght had gotten roped into now was a pain in their asses.

Scythe and Nyght finally arrived at the base of the staircase the halfling had gone up. So long as there was only one other floor to check, they were halfway done. Sweet. Black Falcon saps or no, that was a relief. And they had a nice cool bath waiting for them once this mess was behind them. Talk about motivation.

Scythe and Nyght started to walk up the stairs, their steps in perfect synchronicity. Their right legs, their left legs, so on and so on.

 

[Seredic]

Two large Ravens sat on the bookcase watching the conversation between Sedric and Shilard. The Halfling continued to examine the toy of the busty woman with his thumb casually brushing off the woman's large cleavage. "Hardly the toy to give to a young girl," Seredic said. "She'll be growing up with breast size angst."

Shilard chuckled "She's only 5," he assured the Halfling. "She's more worried about her scraped knees and elbows than the size of her own chest. It's a lovely doll is it not and I have her lover right here," In his hand Seredic saw a doll of a dark skinned man in his hand. He is wearing a red vest with a white shirt underneath along with beige pants and black boots.

"Very sultry," Seredic mumbled handing the Ambassador the woman doll. "They make a cute couple."

"I've always have a fondness for statuettes such as these," Shilard said airly holding both figures in his hands like they were precious jewelry. "They're like pieces of art: Elusive, sensuous forces one to think."

"Well when one of them has the tits the size of Watermelons," Seredic. "It makes you wonder how a woman manages to maintain her balance."

"Always so clever," Shilard said. "Exactly matches your reputation," The old man shifted his body weight getting a little closer to Seredic in attempt to make him feel uncomfortable. A common tactic in negotiations or intimidation, taking up someone's personal space was a subtle way of a person saying that they have bigger balls than the other. Seredic was unperturbed however "why have you travelled all this way to a lone merchant city lord Sedric?" Shilard questioned.

"To seek fortune in the ruins of the Savannah," Seredic answered. "However when I arrived me and other people were falsely accused of destroying property. We're currently seeking the true culprits they belong to a mercenary group known as the Black Falcons."

"Black Falcons?" Shilard raised an eyebrow. "I do not know them but I recognized two suspicious looking fellows brushing past me heading to the backroom. They look anxious it's possible that they are the people you seek?"

"Could be," Seredic said giving the old man a curt bow. "Thank you for the conversation Ambassador," he breathed. "Safe travels."

"And safe travels to you lord Seredic," Shilard said as he began to descend down the stairs. "The desert is a cruel and inhospitable place and it's not because of the heat but rather the dangers that lurk beneath its sands."

"I'll keep that in mind," Seredic said looking around for Samuel and Samantha.

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Scythe and Nyght passed some old fuck going down the stairs as they went up. Paid him no mind.

They reached the top of the stairs and, hey, they didn't have to go very far to find the halfling, did they? Nope. Little bastard was right here. Shit, maybe he was already done perusing the second floor. Wouldn't that be nice. Perfect excuse to ditch. Ah well, you know, nice workin' with ya, but the trail's gone cold as they say. Ain't nothin' we can do now.

Tell you what though. This library was good for something at least; lots of broken sight lines in here, what with all the bookshelves and the rest of it. Great place to lose pursuing guards. They'd scoped out a few nice narrow alleys on the way here too. Always good to have a fallback plan.

Scythe and Nyght stood at the second floor landing. Each of them shrugged at the halfling.

"We didn't find shit," said Nyght.
"But we know a place with an excellent bath service," said Scythe.
"Might as well be sparkling clean while runnin' from the law."
"Think we can get a three-for-one deal?"
"Maybe swing for a two-and-a-half-for-one deal. No offense."

 

[Seredic]

"No need," Seredic said. "Though we need a bath after traveling all this time, I found something better. A possible trail on our elusive suspects." Taking one last glance at Ambassador Shilard who was exiting the library with his guards Seredic shook off his unease and stared at the twins.

"The old man who just passed you by," Seredic said. "Has gladly pointed us in the direction." Pointing at the wooden door a few feet of them, the Halfling smiled. "They should be behind that door." He said and he cheerfully turned on his and began to walk ahead of them..... just to stop and turn around.

"I must warn you," Seredic whispered. "We need those people alive so the guards can hang them, once we break in just beat them up and try to subdue them." Thinking of an incentive for the twins to do so, Seredic took out another pouch of coins and tossed it to them. "Perhaps this will motivate you?" he said.

The two Ravens looking at Seredic began to caw and flew past them landing near the wooden door and began to casually peck at the floor with one Raven giving them a keen eye. "Those are strange Ravens," Seredic a little shaken before staring at Samuel and Samantha. "Now let's go," he whispered.

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Fuck.

Well, hopefully that old man was wrong. Scythe and Nyght were just starting to get used to not finding anything of note and were leaning heavily toward gettin' that bath. He probably was wrong. Of course he was wrong. Some old fart with a drooping ballsack, what the hell did he know?

We need those people alive...

Scythe and Nyght both unshouldered their crossbows anyway.

"Beat them up?" said Scythe, grinning.
"Hell no. We're gonna fuckin' kneecap 'em," said Nyght, grinning.
"Don't need both knees to swing from the gallows."
"And hold on to that coin, would ya?"
"We're weighed down enough as it is."

Scythe and Nyght stalked forward, crossbows up and at the ready, much like when they were taking aim at the guards at the gate earlier. Approached the door. Disregarded the dumb birds; how the hell they'd get in here anyway? Scythe's body posted up on the right side of the door, Nyght's body on the left, backs to the wall. Scythe's body held his crossbow in one hand and reached over slowly to gently try the door. Locked. Of course. Goddamn it. No quiet entry.

Scythe's body stepped in front of the door. Nyght's body tensed. Scythe's body got a small running start and kicked the door in and wood from the jamb splintered and as his body bounced back from the reaction force Nyght's body swung around into the open doorway and snapped her crossbow down to aim inside.

But there was nothing. Relatively small room. Quiet. Bit dim. Looked like some place where books were mended or restored: a few tables, stacks of blank papers and parchment, ink, quills, some roughed up looking books on a table all their own, some shelving with surplus and miscellaneous other supplies near the back.

Nyght's body entered first, Scythe's following, his crossbow held just over her shoulder. They walked in perfect step together, Nyght's eyes scanning strictly forward, Scythe's eyes darting around to their left and right and everywhere else.

A tiny creaking. Dead ahead. Behind the shelving.

Two figures stepped out, quick as lightning, armed with hand crossbows. Scythe and Nyght threw themselves flat to the floor on their backs as the two figures fired, bolts streaking just over them; one hit the broken door jamb, the other went sailing clear out of the room. Heh. At least the halfling was already pre-ducked.

Scythe and Nyght fired their own crossbows from the ground, not really giving a shit about the "take them alive" idea. Didn't matter anyway. One bolt missed and the other bounced off a plate spaulder.

Two figures. A man and woman, both with ashy blonde hair of--fittingly enough they guessed--equal length. Had some nice chainmail on too in addition to the plate spaulders, fuck. Hmm. Stubble and Scarface: the man had about two day's worth of stubble, the woman a juicy scar running diagonally from her forehead over the bridge of her nose and all the way down to her jawbone. Appropriate nicknames.

Stubble and Scarface rushed forward. Scythe and Nyght scrambled up to their feet, tossed their crossbows at them, managed to hit Stubble in the head (and spur a sharp curse from him) and distract Scarface as she swatted one aside. Problem. Scythe and Nyght's coats were tied around their waists...blocking access to their swords. Solution. Whip those sumbitches off and throw them too. Stubble and Scarface had taken only two steps forward before they each got a face-full of sweaty coat.

Know what? Fuck it; their swords wouldn't be very useful against that chainmail. Those daggers on the other two mercs' hips would be fantastic though: small, maneuverable, easy to slip in somewhere vulnerable.

So Scythe and Nyght tackled Scarface and Stubble respectively, taking advantage of them still struggling with the confusing and flustering mess of the coats in their faces. Scythe's body was having a good ol' time, punching down where Scarface's...well, scarred face ought to be behind the tangle of the coat, softening her up before going for the dagger. Nyght's body, however, was immediately flipped right off of Stubble, as that bastard employed some kind of move using Nyght's own momentum to launch her up and away.

Scythe's body stiffened as he, too, felt the pain in his back as Nyght's body crashed into one of the supply shelves, knocking it clean over with a great clattering of paper and glass and leather bound book covers and thick wood.

And, not to be left out, Nyght's body felt the pain too when Stubble swung a kick into the back of Scythe's head, knocking him off and to the side of Scarface.

Great start.

 

[Seredic]

Well it looks like the fight is going smoothly, the mercenaries whom Seredic had paid a hefty sum for are just getting their rear ends handed to them by well trained and well armed mercenaries. The same mercenaries who nearly got him and themselves hung for a crime that they have not committed. Seredic thought that he was a good judge of character but apparently he wasn't as good at intuition as he thought he was. Though Seredic noticed that whenever one of the twins got hurt the other seemed to feel it a twin thing perhaps?

Seredic stayed at a distance gripping his dagger, his gaping at the fight that had transpired. He supposed he expected too much out of Samuel and Samantha. They were just random people whom he met by circumstance. Samuel went flying due to receiving a roundhouse kick by the stubbly looking Black Falcon Mercenary. He landed hard on to the ground as the Mercenary went on Samuel began to unleash a flurry of punches on his face.

The Scarfaced merc then grabbed Samantha's ponytail yanking her head back and elbowed her throat, Samantha's head landed on her knee as she began to choke her. Seredic's heart felt as though it was about to explode into tiny pieces. His stubby feet were rooted on the ground, surely as soon as these fine mercenaries were done with the twins he will be next! "I have to do something!" Seredic thought struggling to breathe but he was a Halfling. Half a human's size and half their strength. If these twins are getting their massacred like this just imagine what the mercs will do to Seredic?

The Halfling looked around for anything that could help, one thing that Seredic was thankful for was that at least the Black Falcons are distracted with the twins. A bust marble statue of Shah Bardya lay near the door that Seredic was leaning on part of his head is cracked. Probably fell off the supply shelves that Samantha crashed into, slowly and carefully Seredic picked up the statue of the former Shah and snuck up on the Scarfaced mercenary who was choking out Samantha and struck her in the back of her head using the marble statue.

The woman cried out as Seredic did not hesitate continue to smash her skull in with the statue. Even in death, the Shah still desires a good fight. The stubby mercenary got of Samuel unsheathing his dagger and was about to approach Seredic until an arrow whistled passed him part of the arrow tickling his nose and he immediately dropped the knife.

"Black Falcons!" Amenhotep shouted as ten guards near him drew their curved swords. "You are under arrest!"

The two mercs sighed and raised their hands up in the air for the guards bind them.

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

You know what was worse than getting punched repeatedly in the face (and Stubble sure as fuck was paying Scythe back for smacking up Scarface). Being choked out while being punched repeatedly in the face. Two mind-merged bodies meant certain advantages, certain disadvantages. For every punch Scythe's body received, Nyght's body felt a ghostly copy. For every second of strangulation Nyght's body suffered, Scythe's body felt the same duration.

Scythe tried shielding his face, and Nyght tried grappling back against Scarface. But neither amounted to shit. This was why they hated close-quarter fighting: hit-and-run was always the way to go. Coordinated ambush tactics, that's what they were best at. But they just had to be fighting indoors, without the element of surprise because of the locked door. Goddamn it.

Now they were on the bottom end of a fight, enduring a double-dose of pain, fighting armored and well-trained opponents. Worst case scenario.

Oh shit, the halfling was a mad lad. Nyght's eyes caught sight of him smacking the hell out of Scarface with a fucking bust of all things. Fuck yeah, get some. Nyght managed to pry Scarface's hands from her throat, alleviating that at least.

But then, a real unexpected turn of events happened. The lawmen of all people showed up. Amenhotep and his boys. No fucking shit. Those lazy fucks, were they just following them the whole time or something? Like they couldn't have questioned Rupert and come into this library and figured this mess out on their own. Nah, just blame any old twins and some halfling trying to get on with their day. Fucking lawmen.

At least they got something right: timing. Color Scythe and Nyght shocked.

Scythe and Nyght both coughed and gasped for air as Stubble and Scarface surrendered. Blood ran from Scythe's body's nose, his bottom lip, but both him and Nyght held their faces and rolled listlessly from side-to-side on the ground.

"We told you it wasn't us," Nyght moaned.
"You pieces of shit," Scythe moaned.

Hell, they didn't really care if these Black Falcon chumps were guilty or not. All that mattered to them was that the lawmen thought they were. Let those assholes hang.

Fuuuuuuck...that bath was going to feel so good after this heinous day.

They'd get back up in a minute, they just...they just needed a moment. Yeah.

 

[Seredic]

Seredic blinked watching Amenhotep of all people coming to their rescue, for a moment Seredic thought his blood was going to get splattered all over the library he almost felt the cold kiss of the stubby man's dagger against the vein in his neck. Seredic was still in the same spot ignoring the barrage of curses from the Scarfaced mercenary. He couldn't believe it what he did, Seredic actually came in and beat a person half to death. Admittedly it was for his own self preservation rather than the twins, but even in the face of death Seredic did not run.

What he told Ambassador Shilard was true after all, Halflings found it difficult to ween off life. Though Seredic didn't fully believe in what he said a few minutes ago. Of course that nearly got him killed by the stubby mercenary who was trying to escape but was beaten to submission by the guards. Seredic rapidly blinked trying to comprehend what was going on. The woman who Seredic beat with the bust was bleeding profusely and for a brief moment, Seredic thought that bits of brain and bone were hanging out from her forehead.

"It seems that you're more tougher than you look Halfing," Amenhotep slapped Sereidc on the back causing him to drop the bust which created another crack. The slap left Seredic reeling as he rubbed his sore back. "Unlike these halfwits you call mercenaries."

"The Black Falcons are among the best," Seredic said giving the twins a dark look when they called the guards pieces of shit. "I wouldn't blame the twins for being overmatched. It left an opening for me to..... attack." Could it kill them to be at least grateful that they've been saved?! Just for once?! Well Seredic spent an exorbitant amount of coin on them and they ended up being liabilities. "How did you know where to find us?" Seredic asked.

"Ambassador Shilard de Espertin has kindly informed us of the real culprits," Amenhotep said while the guards hauled the Black Falcons away. "I gathered the best of men and we moved quickly."

"In record time," Seredic breathed lumbering to the stone wall to catch his breath. "We were about to left for dead in a Library."

"You'll surprised how many deaths occur in the Library," Amenhotep responded. "Because people want their peace and quiet subtle assassinations occurred here over the years.

"Remind me to get order my books via carrier next time I come here," Seredic mumbled. "In any case, I thank you Amenhotep. Are we in the clear?"

"Indeed you are," Amenhotep said. "These Falcons will hang in an hour, we can't let the crowd get restless. Farewell Seredic."

As the Amenhotep exited the Library Seredic was about to talk to Samuel and Samantha but was interrupted by a guard. "Excuse me," he whispered. "You're Seredic Stoor correct?! My wife is a fan of your work and I was wondering if you could sign this wine bottle?"

Seredic raised an eyebrow when the olive skinned guard fumbled out the wine bottle giving it to Seredic. The Halfling took a quick glance at it, Sparkling Falwood Wine? How mediocre Elves create shit wine for the most part. However Seredic forced a smile and took out pen scribbling his signature on it. "Here you are good sir," he said handing him the bottle.

The guard jumped joy squealing like a child whose birthday came before he ran out. Seredic sighed and stared at the twins. "So," he said. "Do you two to be very rich?"

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

This lawman. Talking shit after Scythe and Nyght softened up those Black Falcon saps.

"Fuck you, Amenhodick," moaned Scythe.
"You brought ten men, asshole," moaned Nyght.

Still they writhed with an exhausted and agonized slowness on the floor of the backroom. Honestly though--and it sure as hell pained them to admit it--but the lawmen had the right idea. Why not bring ten men against two? Easy victories were the best victories. Goddamn, if Scythe and Nyght had been presented with the choice between gettin' their asses beat or spending some of that shire-coin on hiring some extra muscle, fuck yes they would have went with the latter. Every time. Every damn time.

Scythe and Nyght were no heroes. Nope. Not one drop of that shit in their blood. Low risk, low reward kind of work was how they survived so long. That high risk stuff? Do that in big groups, stay in the back, and ditch at the first sign of shit going sideways. And, yeah, it always blew hard when they were caught in some situation in which there was no easy way to escape. Cap Aeyliea got them into those before, but she pulled 'em out.

The halfling and Amenhotep exchanged words. Meanwhile, Nyght's body rolled over toward Scythe's body and sat up onto her heels and plucked his folded vest from his belt and used it to dab at the blood on his face. Ah. Nyght's body was going to be fine, but Scythe's body was going to have some impressive shiners; got a fat splotch of black and blue forming under his left eye right now. At least Scythe's nose wasn't broken this time.

They heard one thing from the halfling talking with the guards. His name, finally. Seredic Stoor. Nice to meet ya, pal.

And Seredic signed some (very enthusiastic) guard's wine bottle and turned his attention back onto them.

A groan simultaneously escaped both of their bodies.

"We think we're rich enough for one day," said Scythe.
"You can keep that extra five hundred coin," said Nyght.
"Surely it can't be that hard to find a beverage on your own."
"Shit, we're about to go to place that's got plenty."
"That's what you oughta do too."

 

[Seredic]

Looks like even mercenaries have their limits, it was said that mercenaries will gladly do anything as long as they were being paid. Surely 500 coins would have Samuel and Samantha get on all fours and bark like a Dog given what just happened, the two just wanted to get away from it all. Part of Seredic wanted to leave them to their business, they were utter liabilities from nearly getting him killed, to bad mouthing a victim to not even coming close to beating the Black Falcon suspects.

Then again, Seredic planned on trekking through the desert to find the Wine of Destiny. He was convinced that the wine was here somewhere in the ruins. The Dwarves despite their love for ale made one of the best wine in the world to the point where Seredic's annual top 20 wine list had at least one of the wine made from the Dwarves. According to legend, the secret to their wine making skill dated back to the Age of Wonders where the Dwarven King Axel, fresh off his conquest against one of the Sand Elf Kingdoms, invented a way to create a wine that was sweet, tarty while having enough tannin to add balance and complexity.

The Dwarves call it: The Greatest Wine ever Tasted. It could be the Wine of Destiny! If he was going to find it, he'll need hired swords. Scythe and Nyght were the first who come to mind. However does he really want to invest more in a pair of nitwits? The words: Sunk Cost Fallacy echoed in Seredic's head, in any case it'll take a while to hire a good sellsword and he was eager to find some maps to leave. Might as well go with these guys but first Seredic needed to sweettalk them.

"What do you want Samuel and Samantha?" Seredic asked giving them a warm smile. "You've got plenty of gold I've seen to that. You want to go to that place with excellent bath service. I can make that happen as you know I'm a famous Wine Critic and if a guard recognizes me, no doubt the owner of the place will since they serve wine. It's an all expenses paid for the place. You don't have to spend a copper that I gave you. I'll need your help though but if you accept then you'll be living the good life in Maaran I guarantee it."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

I'm a famous Wine Critic.

What the fuck was a wine critic? Scythe and Nyght had never even heard of such a thing before. Maybe the Philanthropist had, if it was some ritzy noble shit or something along those lines. Also, what was the big deal? There was plenty of wine around the city. The hell did he need them for?

Scythe's body sat up. Nice and slow, with a little assist from Nyght's body. They sat there, clothes still damp in certain places from sweat, their necks and their faces ringing with the dull pulse of pain. Fight didn't last but a minute or so, but it was enough to ruin the rest of the day, that was for sure.

"Tell ya what we want," said Nyght.
"To go get that bath, have a little drink, and sleep the day away," said Scythe.
"And, uh, you already paid for the expenses."
"And then some."
"Come along with us. They got wine there for sure."

Scythe and Nyght couldn't fathom why Seredic would need their help. Shit, he was loaded down with coin. Any place in Maraan serving or selling wine would welcome his hairy little ass with open arms. He said he had tracked down whatever beverage he was looking for to the Savannah. Here in Maraan, right? Well he was here now, wasn't he? Go find that shit. Didn't need their permission.

Well, whatever the halfling was gonna do, Scythe and Nyght were dead set on taking the rest of the day off. Tomorrow sounded like an excellent time for everything that wasn't: said bath, said drink, and said sleep.

 

[Seredic]

Seredic sighed his body already feeling like it was going to fall apart. From spending a fortnight walking through the Savannah, nearly getting hanged for a crime he did not commit to beating the shit out of a woman with nothing more than a bust of an old acquaintance. Seredic was surprised that just now he was feeling tired It had been quite the adventure for him. "Well of course I did," Seredic grumbled to Samuel and Samantha trying to fight off his closing eyelids.

It felt as though Seredric had a Roper's eyelids judging by heavy they were. A yawn escaped the Halfling as he began to stretch his small body. "I just need to rent some maps some books," Seredic said exiting the room that they were in. "And we'll be off to paradise."

Seredic asked the Librarian who scolded him and Samuel and Samantha for causing a lot of ruckus in the Library. After Seredic profusely apologized, he requested some books and maps relating to where King Axel constructed his Kingdom. In the Age of Wonders, the Savannah became a land grab for many Dwarven Kings. Which was why adventurers found Dwarven ruins as Sand Elf ones. Seredic received the items he needed and handed over to Samuel to carry while he gave the Librarian woman some coins before they headed to the bathhouse.

As predicted, Seredic was welcomed with open arms by the owner. He was a Sand Elf named Abdal who was one of the 12 people on the traders council. Abdal collected most of Seredic's published essays discussing the theory of Wine with some essays that Seredic have forgotten he written. "Likely because I was very drunk," Seredic thought.

Abdal threw a lavish feast for the trio, a dais full of roast pig, turkey, mashed potatoes, chicken and all other festivities lay for them. Their dirty clothes taken to the washer women and Seredic, Scythe and Nyght by more fancy clothing fit for them. Sereidic was wearing clothes that look like this:

While Samuel and Samantha wore clothing that looks like this:

Singers and dancers performed while they ate though Seredic had his face inside the books trying to triangulate the possible position for King Axel's Kingdom. After a long feast, the three were at the bathhouse which was heated by the mages of Maraan. The warm water relaxed Seredic's muscles as he looked at one maps at the bath's edge. "Tomorrow my friends," he said in good spirits. "We'll be heading out to seek fame and fortune beyond our understanding."

"The Wine of Destiny," Seredic thought placing a marker on to the map.

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Ho. Lee. Shit. Abdal had quite the place.

Serious. Scythe and Nyght had their sights set no higher than the regular ragtag inn they'd been staying at. Get that same ol' wooden tub full of cool water that they'd been gettin' for the past few days. Bit small and cramped for the two of them, but it always worked out just fine. That bath followed by a little meal of whatever-the-fuck was being served today, a little drink to get 'em buzzed up just enough to fall into the valley of sleepy rather than the peak of rowdy, then off to their room they would go and figure out what the hell to do tomorrow.

The Gods of Good times must really like wine critics. Hell if they knew that shit before, but they couldn't deny this treatment the halfling was getting now. Abdal did everything beside drop down on his knees and personally service Seredic himself. You know, Scythe and Nyght would've paid to see that action. Be hilarious.

So they ate up at the feast. Got their fuckin' fill alright, since it was apparently on the house as far as they were concerned. They almost forgot that Abdal had gotten them some fresh clothes before the feast and his servants had attended to them being fitted. Nyght's body had some trouble with the top--how the fuck was this thing supposed to stay up?--but a servant set her straight. Scythe's body wore the bulb-hat with a big, fat grin. One of the servants insisted that it was a "turban," but Scythe and Nyght liked their name for it better. Anyway, these clothes were soft and loose and airy and all around way more suited for the desert and the hot environment.

They probably could have done without the fucking singing and dancing. Or, at least, got said singers and said dancers drunk and then turned 'em loose--now that shit would've been great.

Feast done. Bellies full. Off to the bath.

And this wasn't no tiny-ass inn tub. Hell no. This was a full bathhouse. That's right. Bath. House. Seriously, could Scythe and Nyght be, oh they didn't know, ale critics or something? Beer critics? Wine critic seemed taken already, so whatever was sloppy seconds, that'd work too.

Scythe and Nyght shed their temporary clothes and each didn't bother to test the waters with their feet. One second, on the water's edge. The next, swwwwwooop, nice and neat into the bath. Aaaaaaaahhhh...

Their bodies sat side-by-side one another, each with an arm across the other's shoulders. In tandem they tilted their heads back and closed their eyes.

"Holy shit, Seredic," said Scythe.
"Is it like this everywhere you go?" said Nyght.
"We had no idea wine was such a big deal."
"Yup. Tomorrow. Whatever you say."
"Hope there's another bath like this wherever the hell we're goin'."

Tell ya what. It wasn't the sort of celebration Scythe and Nyght were used to, but Seredic knew how to have a good time alright. Yeah, they'd chaffed against one another for a bit, sure, but he was alright in their book.

 

[Seredic]

"If throwing coins at a person doesn't work, then fill their bellies with food and treat them like they're a King. Then you'll have that person wrapped around your finger."

It was what Seredic's father told him when he first built his business: Seredic's Vineyard. Given that Porto was a business man himself who was fairly successful, Seredic took his words to heart when he expanded his Wine business and started his political career. It was a great method of persuasion and one that easily worked with a bunch of traveling mercenaries. Samuel and Samantha hung around Seredic when he threw gold at them, when that no longer worked, Seredic gave them a taste in how he was treated by the super rich.

By Seredic's request Abdal rented out the entire bathhouse for the night only Seredic and the twins were allowed to stay. The Halfling sighed continuing to mark the map while servants entered the room handing the trio cups of Wine and fruits: Apples, Grapes and Avocados. "Not everywhere," Seredic muttered climbing out of his mini tub while the servants immediately wrapped his tiny body with a white towel. He thanked them while grabbing the map and sitting on a seat and designed just for him.

"Only by the super rich," Seredic continued. "Kings, Queens, Nobles, successful merchants and politicians. Those are the people enjoy my work, I create wine the bottle you see and drink is my brand. I also taste and critique Wine as well so in other words...."

Seredic took a big swig from the tiny gold chalice fit for him. "I drink and I know things," he said smiling raising his cup to the twins. Seredic was also the Mayor of Fairbarin who increased their economy up to exponential levels but he didn't want to bore them with political matter.

"There's always that rich man trying to get my autograph," Seredic sighed. "It appears the commonfolk are trying to get in the habit of Wine drinking. So sad really I've always liked to disappear in crowds, fame can be quite overwhelming and overrated."

Being buried by praise and adulation may have its advantages like what Seredic pulled but it can nauseating being the asked the same damn question. Why do you age red wine - but not white wine? Do you add flavorings to wine to achieve different aromas? Do you add sugar to make sweet wines? How do you make white wine with red grapes? It made Seredic want to chop off his own ears. There was something quite liberating being in commonfolk places. Sure he'll get called a Half-man but Seredic would always counter by saying that he was Half man Half amazing.

"There may be," Seredic said. "We're going to a Dwarven Ruin a few miles east from here. You continue to stick with me all the way and we can spend another night here."

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Only by the super rich. Made sense. For some reason, all those "lord" and "lady" types--the Philanthropist included--loved wine and upped their noses to just about everything else. Well shit. Maybe there was room for an ale or beer critic (they still had no idea what a "critic" even did) but that probably wouldn't get them into a place like this. Ah well. Wouldn't stop 'em from drinking ale and beer and pretending anyway.

As Scythe and Nyght lounged in the bath, Seredic had gotten out and told them about some dwarven ruin.

And slowly they put the pieces together.

"Wait..." said Nyght.
"Dwarves drink wine?" said Scythe.
"Can your average dwarf even spell 'wine?'"
"If a free keg of beer was on the line, bet he could."
"Alright, Seredic. Color us intrigued. We got some free time."

Tomorrow, at any rate. Enjoy the rest of this excellent bath tonight and sleep off that fight with the Black Falcons as best they could. Normally they weren't ruin explorers, but free shit was free shit.

How bad could it be?

 

[Seredic]

Seredic continued to read the map that'll supposedly lead them to the old Dwarven Kingdom. He was in good spirits now, a great feast and a warm bath will ease even the most agitated souls. "It surprised me as well," Seredic muttered taking a bite of an Apple. "But Dwarves have created one of the best wines in the business. When I did my annual top tens there was a Dwarven wine brand in there."

It was unusual, Wine was smooth and relaxed compared to the frizzly and hardiness of an Ale and Beer. While the Dwarves do produce great Ale in which Seredic enjoys, their was something about their wine that was sophisticated. Their Wine was crafted with just enough acidity and alcohol to where it created a sweet sensation that was pleasing to the body. Many Dwarves Seredic had conversed with credited their Wine making skills with the work of King Axel.

"It's like finding out that a barbarian created an eloquent sonnet," Seredic said drawing a line on a safe route on where he and the twins should travel on tomorrow. "The Dwarves making skills trace back to King Axel the Dwarf who conquered one of the Sand Elf Kingdoms and propped his Kingdom in the sands. He created one of the finest wines known in the world."

The Halfling frowned. "He disappeared one day," he said. "And with that his Kingdom began to crumble, some say literally as he was holding his Kingdom with magic."

Servants came down and began to proved Samuel and Samantha towels. "Well," Seredic said sighing happily. "I'll be off to bed go and enjoy yourselves and really think about the finer pleasantries you will experience if you help through this journey."

And with that Seredic exited the bathhouse and lumbered over to bed. Tomorrow was a big day and he needed all the rest he can get.

 

[Scythe and Nyght]

Scythe's body snored.

Quiet.

Nyght's body snored.

Quiet.

This for a little while more. Until the first rays of dawn began to brighten the lavish room Abdal, through Seredic's wine critic graces, had shown them. Then they started to stir.

Both of them were butt-ass naked. Just a hilarious tangle of limbs and sheets and the odd pillow that had somehow gotten well out of place. God damn, did they sleep good. Feasts usually did that, loaded you down like a sumbitch and basically buttered you up to get a nice solid ten hours or so.

Scythe groaned. And Nyght groaned.

Problem. Ever sleep so damn good you wake up feeling tired? Maybe it didn't last all day, sure, but it felt like nothing happened other than the sun swinging 'round to the opposite end of the compass. And worst part was, more sleep would only make it worse. Only solution was to run right at the problem and just get the hell out of bed.

Scythe and Nyght, gradually, worked the cobwebs out of their joints and gathered the willpower to sit up and eventually get out of the bed entirely. Piece by piece they started to get dressed. Dressed in their regular clothes, nice and fresh, that is. Shame, they thought Scythe's body looked like a real party lad with that bulb-hat on his head. And those pants Nyght's body had worn were delightfully bouncy, among other things.

This was the worst part. Not the sleeping a little too long thing, no. The "fun is over, back to work" thing. That part that always followed the good stuff. Even if they had enough coin on hand to keep the good times rolling, that shit spent faster and faster the longer it went on, and it was back to work soon enough anyway.

And what was it this time? Ah yeah. Seredic, the halfling. Dwarven ruins? The hell did he want to go...oh, that's right, the wine. Thing. The dwarven wine thing. The fuck? Dwarves drink wine? Right, he addressed that last night. What else did he say? King Axel. Yeah. Who was he married to, Queen Wheel? Heh. Uh. They couldn't even get a chuckle out of themselves with that. What else. Something about Sand Elves. Shit, Scythe and Nyght always thought dwarves liked mountains and cold; what the hell had they been doing way the hell out here? For that matter, what the hell were elves doing out here too, didn't they like forests and green shit? Eh.

Well, hopefully this wine thing in the ruins for Seredic would amount to something quick and easy. Smash-and-grab style. Get in, grab the thing, get out. Boom. Done.

Dressed, armed, and--mostly in Scythe's body's case--healed as best as it was gonna get for the time being, Scythe and Nyght stepped out of their room and walked through Abdal's bathhouse and gawked at a fine young lady and a handsome young man strolling by and kept on walking.

They got to the front doors of the establishment. Stood and lounged, looking out in the peel of daylight spreading over Maraan before them.

And Scythe and Nyght waited for Seredic.