Epilogue

The oath is broken.

“Oath? What oath?” he grumbled, massaging the stump of his left wrist. “Barkeep, another ale!” He belched.

“Another, young master? Arr, I’d say yer got the appearance o’ having one too many already, lad.” Innmaster Wend poured another drink nonetheless. The young man looked around and wiggled his fingers. You are a bit drunk, perhaps you should lay off, the spirits told him.

“I’m not drunk. What’s the to-do about, anyhoo?” He sipped. The sun had not yet risen but the common area had filled with people ready to leave, grabbing a bite before they departed.

“Well that’s a tale in need of tellin’, and no wonder. Ye haven’t heard?” Wend leaned in conspiratorially. “Big gatherin’ this morn up Praxoenn way. Some she-witch being put to trial. Way I figger it, the Hunters bagged another one, wanted to make it public-like. This one they caught in the city itself!”

“Hrmph,” the young man grunted. The air pricked at the back of his neck, raising his fine hairs. He rubbed his face. She’s one of us, she needs help, the spirits said. Let us take you. We can make it if we leave now. He shook his head.

“Whoever she is, isn’t my concern.”

“Never said she were, lad. But the stories I’ve heard told, now they’ll put hair on yer chest.” Wend slapped the table. “Har, yes, heard she tried to demolish the Atrium and was banished. She summoned will o’ the wisps and scroungers to do her dirty work.” He looked out the window. “How she got that close to the Regency, well, it’s beyond me, it is. Reckon that’s when they brought in the Hunters, for sure. Can’t have witches like that wandering about.”

The young man sipped again. “This is good,” he added.

“Don’t get many of you gobs out this way. Goblins, sorry. Beggin’ yer pardon and all.” Wend leaned forward. “By the Light you drink early.”

“Nothing better to do this morning,” he sighed. “Not really sure what I’m doing here.”

“Well, Stebadd’s not the best place, and not the worst place. We’ll take care of ye. Fer coin, of course.”

Taking the hint, the young man flicked another coin onto the bar. “I’m as good as my name, barkeep.”

Wend eyed it briefly before pocketing it. “That yer are, lad. That yer are.” He began wiping some spilled ale and continued. “Ye look pretty rough. Mind me askin’ how ye lost it?” He said, waving at the man’s wrist. “Knew a man a few years back, got caught down in the desert. Caught a sting, and lopped it off, clean as yers. Reckon it saved his life. Skorp’s poison is no joke. Olin, his name were, if I recollect. Died eventually, but it was a broken heart that did him in. Wife passed, and he couldn’t bear to go on. Sure ye don’t want a bite?”

She is very strong. You can teach her. She has lost all control of herself. You remember what it was like.

“I do,” the goblin said.

“Well of course you will, lad. Yer still young. Got a lass out there waitin’ for ya?” Innmaster Wend smiled and winked knowingly.

The young man looked at his drink, his ears drooping and his face turning a slight shade of brown. “I’m not sure, really. If she’s out there, I hope she’s alright.” He shut his eyes, trying not to think of Trynneia. He failed.

“Well, buck up lad. No point in moping. Now Olin, he’d come in here every morning, right at the crack o’ dawn. Didn’t say much, just ordered an ale and brought in good coin, and-” he paused, looking at the young goblin and realizing that scenario repeated itself. “Well, it’s your business, I guess.”

Is your business to just lay around all day, drinking your mind into oblivion?

“No, it’s not,” he replied to the air. The colors flowed, an orderly chaos that permeated all things. “I mean to go on, I do.”

“In yer own time, of course, lad, of course. Now, a pretty young lady came through a month or two back. Well, she was probably pretty if her clothes hadn’t been a mess. Human of course, not yer kind. Very sick. Hope she got help. Sat right there too, sicked up all over me counters. Long ago cleaned,” Wend assured the goblin. “Travelin’ with her uncle. Heading into the desert. Or was it to Praxoenn? Don’t rightly remember to be honest. How long were yer stayin again?”

“Just taking a break.” The oath is broken. “Look, I’m heading up to my room. A friend should be meeting me here. You’ll know him when you see him. If I leave, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds very good, Master Coinlock, very good indeed. You get some rest, don’t let me talk your ears off. Unless yer aim is for that to happen, har! Take yer mug with ye if you need, I’ve got plenty more.”

“Sure.” Ditan grunted and hopped off the stool. His room awaited.

-The End-