Tavern Brawls S06PRE03

“A villainous plot against the backdrop of the Brawl?  Cool!  Kevin, we need to get that on the posters!  Let’s make it dark and ominous.”

Chris, the shorter of the two brothers, grabbed a small vial of red ink and threw it to his taller brother.  Without looking up from his tinkering, Kevin plucked it out of the air, winked at Selena, then gently tossed the thick glass container onto his writing desk and proceeded to continue connecting wheels to a small wooden cart.

Fletch rolled his eyes at the contraption, then shifted his gaze back to Chris.  Sensing the seriousness of the ranger, the young proprietor of the tavern looked back at his sister.  “So what do you want us to do?  The addition to the tavern is mostly done.  We just need to add the steam-powered carts that are going to deliver drinks to all of the patrons.  It’s going to be great!  Kevin is finishing up one of the carts right now.  You can see the wheels are grooved because that’s where…”

“You need to stop, Chris,” Cantrip interrupted.  “The Murchadhas will bust this place up.  You can’t have the brawl here.”

Her brother stared at her with a contemplative look, then a smile crept across his face as he began to laugh.  “You’re funny, Philomena!  I love having you as a sister.  You always make me laugh.  Now, we need to finish these carts and there’s only so much time to spend in the day.  But, you should come by later and I’ll give you a plate of my goulash on the house!”

Ignoring their protests, Chris and Kevin gently showed their guests back through the tavern and outside.  After closing the door behind them, Chris turned to his brother.  “Have you ever heard of this ‘Professor’ person or the Murchadhas?”

Kevin shrugged indifferently, then moved through the tables back to the office to continue his work.  Chris took in the view around the empty tavern, considering how full it would be in just a few weeks.  Some of them would probably even bring their kids to watch.  Caution getting the better of him, he did an about-face and ran back outside.  “Wait!” he shouted.

The trio that had just been turned out into the streets stopped and turned back to the tavern.  Chris jogged up the street to where they stood, then lowered his voice.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to help us out by helping to generate interest with this ‘villain’ storyline, but maybe Fletch should go to the team selection event and check out the participants.  It would help sell the narrative, right?”

Cantrip began to object again to the idea that this was an elaborate story, but caught herself as she saw the look on Chris’s face.  His words may have been dismissive, but she saw the anxiety hidden in his eyes.

Fletch saw the same hidden fear on the young man’s face and placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it firmly.  Smiling that same unnerving smile he normally wore infrequently but had brandished twice today, he gave Chris a small slap on the back, nodded to his companions, and began walking down the street. 

—–

Starting slowly, Fletch and his “deputies” began trying to find information about the draft.  They questioned both of the owners of The Two Brothers, but they pleaded ignorance themselves and referred the group to the Brawlmaster.  When asked, he simply stated, “The wizarding guild has taken care of it.  Don’t worry about it.”  Desperate for more information, they began seeking out others in the hopes of piecing together any clues as to how it would work.

First, they began talking to a few local veterans of previous Brawls, but none of them had ever been present themselves at the Draft.  It was apparently only attended by the patrons of the Brawl, not by the actual brawlers.  Even then, only the patrons of the captains or “daredevils” were required to attend, so it was a small event.

Next, they tried talking to some of the business owners in town, though all were as curious and bereft of information as the ranger and his companions.  In desperation, they even talked to the owner of the tavern across town, thinking he might have known more in an effort to keep up with his competition.  He was polite, but new to town himself, having just bought the tavern a few months prior.  As such, he was of no help, but was glad to be of service to a ranger.

Finally, they tracked down the unfortunate messenger whom Fletch had heard talking with Nudeltulpe in his office.  “Always make friends with the people getting their hands dirty,” Fletch thought to himself as the girl relayed the details of the draft to them.

“When are the patrons arriving in town for the Draft?” asked Selena, a mischievous grin creeping across her face.  Cantrip elbowed her friend.

The young messenger looked at the rogue with confusion.  “That’s what I don’t understand.  They’re not coming to town.  All I know is that the draft is happening at the local community center, but no one is coming.”