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| The Cloak; Sand Wyrm, Easy Quest | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 17 2015, 08:09 PM (167 Views) | |
| Salem | Jun 17 2015, 08:09 PM Post #1 |
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New Member
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It was much after sundown that the doctor received a knock on his door. Dr. Graff stood and smoothed his clothes against his body while taking a deep breath. By this time of night a good portion of his day had been spent sleeping in a cozy armchair facing the fireplace, having expected his visitor to be along much sooner. “Just a moment,” he said, moving to the door and undoing the latch near the top. Upon opening it he found a man of athletic build wearing a thick brown cloak. It wasn’t hard to deduce that this was the sellsword he had contracted. “Come in, come in,” Graff lead him through the door and into the parlor. Inside there was a large fireplace on one wall with a shining marble mantle that proudly displayed an impressive and varied array of weapons. The other walls were decorated with relics like maps and vases from places that Salem had only imagined. Being a gracious host, Graff took his guests cloak and hung it by the door. Under the cloak the sellsword wore a simple tunic of tough fabric well suited to the climate of the plains. He would have normally offered tea, but decided that it would be reserved for punctual guests from then into the future. Before long the two men found themselves sitting across from one another in front of the fireplace. “Very well,” the doctor began, “I am Dr. Graff, your employer as of the minute we clarify some of the rougher terms of our agreement.” He spoke with an underlying chuckle, like speaking aloud tickled him very softly. “What is there to clarify?” Salem replied with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll kill the beast and you’ll pay me when I return with it’s gland.” “Yes, yes…but you see, the payment…” “What of it?” He grunted, firing an aggressive look at the doctor to find that the other man was wringing his hands and staring at his toes. “I won’t be able to compensate you as much as proposed.” Rather abruptly the sellsword rose from his chair and made strides toward the door with the doctor hurriedly chasing behind. “Rather, only slightly less! No cause to leave after coming all this way!” “Prices are non-negotiable,” Salem barked over his shoulder, removing his cloak from the coat hook and starting to slide into it. “Wait just a moment now, you will be paid in full!” Graff reached out and grabbed the end of his visitor’s sleeve a short moment before he found himself sprawled awkwardly on the floor with a roaring pain in his chest. He understood that he had been struck, but it happened too fast for him to have any memory of it. “No exceptions.” Salem yanked open the door, causing a great rattling in the room, and spoke to the doctor over his shoulder. “You pay me in full when I return with the gland of the beast or you’ll regret seeking out my help.” “Very Well!” Bruised in both body and pride, Graff slowly stilted himself up from the ground. “No need to get pushy,” he said under his breath. “You’ll need this” His hand fished a vial out of his pants pocket and it changed hands between them. “It will attract the Wyrm.” The sellsword stored the vial in one of his cloaks inner pockets and without another word stepped off into the night. Dr. Graff watched him quickly slink off into the distance until the shroud of darkness hid the man completely. Before he was able to fall asleep that night the doctor realized the sellsword had made off with his wristwatch as well, and the handkerchief from his breast pocket. Part of him hoped that this one would be swallowed whole by the wyrm just like the ones before him. |
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3:24 PM Jul 11