Tavern Brawls S06PRE01

The grizzled ranger read the announcement pinned to the notice board and scowled as he watched the stream of people pass The Two Brothers.  Soon, there would be more people than he cared to imagine.  With the expansion that the brothers had built out back for the latest season of the Brawl, that number would only continue to grow.  While he realized that relocating the Brawl to The Two Brothers was a huge business opportunity for the tavern specifically and the town as a whole, he also knew that it brought other…less desirable opportunities.  Those that would take advantage of the increased drunken masses had always hung their hats on such events.

But his opinion on the matter was never asked for, nor offered.  When the brothers hired him three months ago, they were well on their way to realizing their plans to host the event.  He was brought on to keep those most unsavory elements away from their establishment.  It was quite fortunate that he had been present to break up a fight his first evening in town, after which the brothers had offered him the job on the spot.  While not the most glamorous position, he had accepted their offer to run security both because he needed the money and because his other job required him to do so.

Glancing quickly at the sun, he decided it was time to make his rendezvous.  With a casualness that contrasted the seriousness of the meeting, the ranger began his stroll down the street towards the wood mill.  The water paddles continued their relentless cycle as he approached, drowning out the voices of the villagers behind him.  Waving at the workers piling lumber in front, he slipped around the back and entered the rather discreet entrance hidden among the bushes.  He flashed a small and distinct coin at the young man just inside the door, who nodded and escorted him down a flight of stairs into the basement.

—–

General Grindstone sat at his desk, confirming all of his notes and reports were in order.  His attache was usually very orderly, but he still appreciated reviewing everything himself before meeting a new associate in order to be as knowledgeable as possible.  He demanded perfection from those around him and he demanded the same from himself.  He was about to review his notes one last time when his attache appeared at the bottom of the staircase across the room followed by a man with a cloak and a weather-worn face.  The man nodded at his young assistant, who scurried back up the stairs.

The general stood and extended his hand to greet the man.  Accepting the offer, the ranger firmly took the other’s hand and shook it briskly before sitting in the chair opposite of his host.

“Fletcher Periwinkle!  I’m sorry, you go by “Fletch”, right?  It is a pleasure to meet you,” the general began.  “My associate in Darkwater has been singing your praises for years.  I’m glad to have a chance to work with you.  I understand you’ve been able to establish yourself here in town?”

The ranger nodded, no other expression evident on his face.

“Oh, that’s right.  I read that in your file.  Tongue taken by Murchadha family 5 years ago.  Yet somehow, you seem more alert and more effective regardless.”  Grindstone paused for moment.  “I hope the fact that the Professor has ties to the Murchadha won’t be an issue for you.”

Fletch grunted and smiled, his skin seeming to crack as though it had never been stretched in such a way.

This smile troubled the general.  “There will be no revenge plots on this assignment.  Your job is to locate the Professor and find out what his interest is in the Brawl.  He and the Murchadhas have been laying low for the past few years, so something must be drawing them out.  Our other operatives have seen them making their way here, but we haven’t been able to determine why or where their base of operations is.  Use your position at The Two Brothers to watch and listen.  Action is based on your best judgment, but you must keep your relationship with us a secret.  If word got out that we were monitoring things, it would only invite more questions.”

Fletch raised his eyebrows at the general.

The general flushed.  “Sorry, sorry.  Force of habit.  I guess you won’t be wagging your tongue at anyone will you?  I mean, talking out of turn.  I mean…oh, just forget it.  You’ll do fine.”

The ranger stood once more, shook the general’s hand, and ascended the stairs.  A few moments later, Grindstone’s assistant came back down the stairs, more reports in his hand.

“I like him, sir!,” the young man spouted.

“I do too,” the general replied.  “I just hope he’s enough.”

—–

Nudeltulpe sat at his desk, his brow furrowed into the broken visage of shattered glass.  “What do you mean, they have ‘conditions’ on allowing non-humans entry into the Brawl?  What possible conditions could they have?”

The child used as a messenger stood flustered in front of the Brawlmaster, her jaw floundering for something to say, but the words would not come.

“I suppose the next thing you’ll tell me is that they don’t want to allow the purveyors of the newer skill sets emerging from the outer settlements in the Brawl either?!”

The girl managed a small cough as she concentrated her gaze deeply on a spider crawling up the wall near the window of the office.