CHAPTER 8

So here they were travelling together--not even sure where they were going or what they would do when they got there. They ended up in the little village of Finsterbad. "I want to find a warm bed to sleep in," Enrico moaned as they rode into town. They were both still exhausted from their battle with the Trolls. Garrick patted his purse in disgust. "We haven't got many gold crowns left." "Well, let's a least go to the tavern and down a few pints," urged Enrico. Garrick agreed and they rode over to the tavern. The Green Griffin Tavern was a cozy little place. "This will do nicely," Enrico said as he strolled across the room and sat at the table near the fireplace. Garrick sat across from him relaxing as the fire took the chill from his still aching body. They ordered two pints of ale and tried to think of what they were going to do next. However, Enrico was much more interested in the serving wench than the conversation with his comrade. "Would you pay attention to me," Garrick said as he stuffed some bread and cheese into his mouth. "You haven't heard a word I've said."

Just then the door to the tavern opened and in walked a group of rowdy Dwarves carrying a barrel. "Whar be the owner of this establishment?" one of the Dwarves cried out. The owner, a burly man with a mustache and thinning hair, came out of the back room, started to say something, and then fell to his knees as if he were in the presence of the Emperor himself. "Oh, sir, welcome to my humble establishment. Enrico looked around but no one else seemed to recognize the burly old Dwarf either. He turned to Garrick but there was no recognition in his eyes. Suddenly, the Dwarf grabbed the barrel out of his companions hands and in one fluid motion slammed it onto the bar. "We will be spending the evening here and would like some food and a place to sleep for the night." The bartender stood up. "For a barrel of this you can stay all week!" he said as he ran his fingers lovingly around the cask. "No, just tonight, we were on a trade mission through the Empire, but now we need to get back," the Dwarf said. Enrico stared intently at the cask and then he saw it. The label on the cask read "Bugmans Superbrew." "By all the Gods," Enrico exclaimed as Garrick looked at him with a puzzled expression, "don't you see? That's Bugman himself." "You mean of the world-renowned Bugman's brewery," replied Garrick. "What would he be doing this far north." "Well, I'll guarantee you its not for some trade mission. People travel from all over the world to get his brew. My father used to send emissaries down to the Black Mountains just to have some barrels of it for special occasions. No, he would have no need to come here unless he was in need of something." Garrick thought about it for a moment, "Well, if he is looking for something it must be very important." Enrico smiled, "Yeah, and if he hasn't found it he would probably pay the persons that could find it very handsomely." Garrick looked at his purse, together they had just enough to pay for their food and drink. "Well, let's go ahead and see if we can get any information from them," Garrick said as he looked up, but Enrico was already gone.

Enrico walked over to the now half drunk Dwarves. "Oh great Bugman," Enrico said in his most courtly voice. "My name is Enrico dé Vangelles, fifth son of the House of dé Vangelles. It is an honor to meet you." Enrico bowed as Garrick walked up beside him, "And this is my companion Garrick Stormfeld, second son of Duke Stormfeld of Gravenburg." Garrick bowed also, not wanting to be outdone by the now well-mannered Enrico. "Well met Enrico dé Vangelles and Garrick Stormfeld," the Dwarf bellowed. "dé Vangelles, dé Vangelles, that name is familiar to me." "My father was a regular customer of yours." "Ah, Santiago dé Vangelles, I should have known. How is he?" "Alas, he is not long for this world I am afraid, although I have not seen him for many months." "I am very sorry to hear that," the old Dwarf said sincerely. "So my friends," he continued, "how may I be of service to you." "Well, actually, we wanted to know if there was anything that we could do to help you?" Enrico said quietly. Bugman stood and locked eyes with Enrico. "You are very perceptive young man," the old Dwarf laughed. "Very well, have a seat and let's talk." Old Bugman explained to them how they had heard rumors of a dried up fountain somewhere in the Grey Mountains, that had once been the source of the purest water in the world and purer water makes better brew you know. The story says that a potion of dizzying power must be poured into the fountain, a whole barrel full, if the waters are ever to flow again. The only thing powerful enough he could think of was a cask of his precious XXXXXX Superbrew. "So if you can find that fountain I would be extremely grateful," he continued, "but the mountains are infested with all sorts of foul creatures."

The lone figure sat in a dark corner of the tavern and listened intently as the two men haggled over the payment for their little errand. "Fools!" he thought to himself. "Don't they realize that the satisfaction of destroying the Spawn of Chaos was payment enough. Don't they realize that money is the means to an end, not the end in itself. I would gladly give all my gold to get my master back." The pain of the memories was too much for him to bear, so he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He watched as the Dwarf handed the dark-headed stranger a sack of coins and left the tavern. He had been watching them ever since they walked into the tavern. They were warriors that was easy to tell, but he needed to know more about them before he would join them. Now he had found out they were both Noblemen from important Imperial households. If it wasn't for the fact that they appeared only to be interested in money, they would be perfect. "After all," Gilchrist Hauk thought to himself, "if it wasn't for the greed of men, I would not be needed at all." With that, he stood and walked towards the strangers' table.

"Well done, Enrico," Garrick said as he put half the gold crowns into his purse. "50 apiece," Enrico smiled, "and twice that when we get back." "If you yet back," a voice echoed from behind them. They both turned to see a tall, dark stranger walking towards them. "Yes, if we get back," Enrico repeated "And may I ask what concern it is of yours when or if we get back," Enrico stated with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Pardon me gentlemen, I have forgotten my manners, many days on the road can do that to a man as I am sure you are aware. My name is Gilchrist Hauk and I am a Witchhunter in search of some travelling companions and an adventure." "Well, it seems you have found both, doesn't it?" Garrick said suspiciously. "But what makes you think we need a travelling companion." "Well I do not know if you need one, but I would be a fool not to ask. As you can see, I travel alone and that is far more dangerous than travelling with a group and I can be very helpful indeed." Enrico eyed the stranger's sabre and pistol, "Oh, I'm sure you can. Meet us here tomorrow at sunrise. We will decide then, in the meantime, there is a warm bed in this town somewhere with my name on it."

Garrick and Enrico talked it over they were intrigued by the mysterious stranger and decided there was no harm in letting Gilchrist come along. So they met him at the tavern and prepared to leave town. They stopped by the inn to get the cask of ale they were supposed to take with them and the three men set off south for the Grey Mountains.