Glen went up the stairs that ran alongside the west wall of the tavern. He was surprised to find another sitting area, with a set of comfortable chairs and a couch; there were also several other rooms; three in the center, and two down a small hallway. A plaque on the three doors indicated they were for guests. Out of curiosity, he tried the doorknobs; they were locked. He shook his head; perhaps he could get a set of skeleton keys made. He went down the hallway and found his room, which was next door to his uncle’s room.
Glen opened the creaky door and found himself in his new room. It was sparse; there was just a simple bed, an armoire and a window to the street. On top of the bed was a set of sleeping clothes and a crystal, the size of a small potato, on top. He picked up the crystal and he shivered as he felt its magic re-enter him. His old spells came to his mind once more. With a flick of his right hand, he could spread a flame, or with a stomp of his foot, he could cause a minor earthquake. For now, he hung the crystal around his neck.
He began to go through his old adventuring knapsack, his heart beginning to beat fast. He found a pair of fingerless gloves and grinned to himself. He slipped them on and activated a rune on the inside of each hand, making ghostly hands appear in midair. He waved the white, glowing hands around, before using them to open the window, making a cool breeze waft inside. He began to shiver all of a sudden. He rubbed his hands together as he continued to rummage through his bag. He slipped on a ring that made him feel twice as fleet; he put on a bangle and clenched his fists to make the bangle transform into a glimmering snake, crawling across his arm. It felt good to be with his old toolset again. But, there was one thing missing. He went and closed the window and the blinds again, undressing. Knit into the fabric of the bag was an array of knives, which he began to conceal on his person. One knife in each back pocket, one in his breast pocket, one under his belt; he slipped on his thieving boots and clicked the heels, making a sharp edge peek out of the toes. Yep, he was all ready to...take a nap. He fell onto the bed and crossed one leg over the other, drifting off to a sudden sleep.
In his dream, Glen found himself in a dark void, illuminated by an unknown source of light just above him. He looked all around, finding nothing of interest to observe. He began tapping his foot, the sound of which echoed throughout the voice.
Then, the tapping became splashing, and his boot became wet. He lifted his foot and found himself in shallow water, covering a layer of damp sand. He looked up to see an outcropping of rocks that weren’t there before, which extended out into deeper and deeper water. The shallow water lapped up against the rocks, which reflected a crescent moon above the horizon.
Up at the edge of the rocks’ peak, there was a figure with a ponytail, watching the ocean. It wore heavy leather armor, and a large sheathed sword hung from a scabbard at its side. The figure stood there, unmoving, its ponytail blowing in the soft breeze.
Glen cupped his hands to his mouth, trying to shout to the figure. His screams seemed to be swallowed by some unknown force surrounding the area, travelling not far from his person. He paused, before he tried taking a step into the water. But, before he could proceed, he heard a piercing screech.
With a thump, Glen fell from his bed and onto the hardwood floor of his room. The screeching sound repeated, audible through the floorboards. In reality, it sounded like someone laughing.
Glen has his hands in his pockets as he went back downstairs. Night had fallen, and at the front bar there were a group of older men and women being served by his uncle. As they looked up at Glen, they grinned.
“If it isn’t the jailbird!” a woman declared. “Tell me, Glen, how’d you like the clink?”
“It was...fine,” Glen said with some hesitation. “I had a lot of time to think.”
“Thinking about what to make off with next?” a man joked. They all laughed with each other; the woman’s voice sounding just like the screech from his dream. Glen said nothing as his uncle patted his shoulder.
“Now, don’t be teasing him,” Uncle Sid said. “He’s got a lot to get acclimated to. Glen, you’ve got your crystal?”
“Yeah, I found it,” Glen said. “Can’t wait to get back into using magic.”
“Don’t play around too much, Glen. The guard’s got their eye on you.”
“Yeah, and I bet they’ve already got their swords attached to their belts with cords. Spoilsports.”
“Don’t be talking like that, Glen,” Sid said, shaking his head. “If you need something to do, do you mind taking our garbage to the curb? It slipped my mind this morning, due to your release.”
Glen shrugged. His uncle gave him a set of keys.
“Use this to unlock the bin.”
“You put a lock on your garbage?”
“For the raccoons. They’re too smart just to put a latch on the rubbish.”
Glen clipped the set of keys to his belt and went outside to the bin, where there was a fresh, pungent sack of trash waiting for him. He tightened the drawstring and took it outside, where he came face-to-face with a man hauling what appeared to be a stag carcass over his shoulder. He looked too tall to be an ordinary human, but not pretty enough to be an ordinary elf.
“Oy, Glen!” the man shouted. “You’re out of jail?”
“Yeah,” Glen said, plugging his nose. “How’s it going, River?”
“Just great,” River said, patting the wide-horned head of the stag. “This bull’s gonna fetch me a whole bunch of credit at the hunter’s post!”
“Great,” Glen said, yawning again. “I’m glad for you.”
“You just wake up, man?” River said with a hand on his hip.
“Just had a nap, yeah,” Glen replied, parting his shaggy hair.
“If I just got out of jail, I’d go for a long run just to feel free.”
“You wanna race? I think you beat me last time.”
“Aw, ain’t you just a lil’ baby bear,” River said, mussing up Glen’s hair.
“You’re awfully perky for the evening,” Glen said, letting River inside.
“I can’t help it, man,” River said with a a big smile. People around stared at the disheveled half-elf, who was unusually tall, even in his bare feet. He settled his things down by the stool and leaned forward on his elbows. “You’re working here now, huh? Gimmie a honey-wine.”
“Let’s have something better than that,” Glen said, looking around the liquor case. “We gotta have a toast to my freedom!” Glen found a bottle of hard cider and poured himself and River glasses. “To five years well wasted!” They clinked glasses together and drank the cider down. After a second, Glen stuck out his tongue. “Maybe a little too sour…”
“Couldn’t’ve been any more sour than the damn hunter’s guild tradespeople,” River said, continuing to sip the sour cider unabated. “The value of these bulls’ve gone down since open season started.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Glen said, pouring his drink down the sink.
“At this rate, I’m gonna have to double down, or I’m gonna take a hit!”
“Don’t you, like, live in the woods? It’s not like you’ve got a ton of expenses.”
“Try payin’ dues to the friggin’ guild. They don’t even do anything! They just sit around at an old table and tell everybody how you shouldn’t do this or that. It’s pointless.”
“That’s why thieves have it great,” Glen said, daydreaming. “Unless you’re in a gang, it’s just you and your bag o’ tricks. ‘Course, everybody wants their hands on everybody else’s shit, but there’s no, like, pretense about it.”
“Y’want pre-tense? Try bein’ in the same bloodline as a bunch of tall, skinny guys who won’t even give a half-brother the current moon phase.”
“I’m tall and skinny,” Glen said with a smile.
“Y’ain’t got pointed ears,” River said, slumping in his chair. “I’m tryin’ for the blue moon Mondak bear; thing’s so big and fluffy that you’d be able to make a whole couple’a thick blankets out of its pelt. ‘Course, under all that fur’s enough muscle to make the royal guard blush.”
“Even our good friend Alex?” Glen said, making River shrug.
“Alex’s a beast, but he’s no Mondak,” River said. “You seen Alex lately? He’s been a bit mopey.”
“I haven’t run into him yet,” Glen said, his smile fading. “He okay?”
“Just look out for him, y’know? I worry about the big guy sometimes. He looks like he hasn’t slept well in a while.”
“You’ve got one of those tranquilizer guns, right? Put ‘em to bed.”
“You’d need like a day’s worth of darts to put Alex or the Mondak to bed,” River said as he yawned.
“Never mind the bear; you look like you need a nap. Want a room?”
“Heck yeah,” River said. “Hope you don’t mind if I make a couple of blankets upstairs.”
“Just clean up after yourself,” Glen said. Glen fished out a key from his pocket and gave it to River, who headed upstairs.
“Great, thanks,” River said, hoisting up his travel sack and bull carcass again. He leaned in close to Glen.
“Lemme know if you wanna cozy up later,” River said. “I figure you need a warm body after years’a being by yourself, catch me?”
“I’ll think about it,” Glen said. It hadn’t even been a day since Glen got out, and already the half-elf wanted to cuddle. Though it had been a long while, it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him later. The thought made Glen’s face flush.
River smiled and headed upstairs, his heavy pack jingling and heaving all the while. The half-elf might have smelled halfway between dung and deer urine, but damn if he didn’t have charm. Glen sniffed the air and pulled out an apple air-spray from under the counter, spraying it all around.
“Careful with that now,” Uncle Sid said from behind Glen. “That stuff soaks into the wood.”
“I had to cover up the hunter’s scent.”
“I know his smell the best of all,” Sid said, waving a hand in front of his nose. “Encourage him to use the washtub, if you can. For the sake of the patrons.”
“He’s not gonna budge much on the ‘rustic musk’; believe it or not, it’s gotten him both in and out of trouble. He once blended into a pack of dire wolves, like, he got down on all fours and everything, and snuck into their den to get an amulet hidden in their den. But when he showed it off to a bunch of dryads later...let’s just say that they had a good harvest.”
“Sounds like reckless behavior.”
“He survived, but...he had some moss issues downstairs.”
“Elves,” Sid said as he shook his head. “They live for several generations, but they don’t learn a thing all the while.”
“You’ve worked with elves in your airshop work, right? They must’ve known a ton.”
“They know how to work around expected standards of workmanship and conduct. Once I saw them use woven spiderwebs to cordon off their work area; anybody who tried to get through would get tangled up and needed a hosing down afterward.”
Glen worked by his uncle’s side for the rest of the evening. Though some of the glasses overfilled with foam and some of the sours were a little too puckery, Glen managed to get a couple of pieces of gold for his tip. By the time they closed up, Glen felt ready to sleep again.
“Tired already?” Uncle Sid asked.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been around so many people,” Glen said, peeling his eyes open. “Gimmie time to adjust.”
“Take as much time as you need,” Sid said. He went in for a hug. “Good night, Glen.” Glen didn’t return the hug as strongly as it was given, but he enjoyed the contact, at least.
Glen headed upstairs. The lights in the sitting area were dim, though Glen could see a tiny light flickering under one of the doors, along with a steady scraping sound. He reached up to knock on the door, opening his mouth to beckon the person inside, but he hesitated. Glen sighed and headed over to his room.
He disrobed and tucked himself into bed, turning himself away from the faint scraping sound he could hear through the wall. Every couple of seconds, it would stop, only to start up again. As much as he tried to ignore it, the sound never went away completely. Glen surrounded himself in his covers and fell asleep to the sound of the white noise.
