It was windy and cold when Jacob at last saw the Homely Inn. He would
be glad to rid himself of this prying chill and get warmth back to his bones.
The door was closed firmly. Upon it was orange glass panels and a brass
handle. He stepped inside.
He fixed his eyes upon the bar and there were several shapes of no consequence.
He ordered a flagon of ale and retreated to a dark corner. It was then
he noticed a hooded man watching his movements. He returned the gaze,
he had no fear here.
The figure strode over towards him and Jacob felt the hilt of his sword.
"No need for that lad. I'm not the fighting type."
Jacob snorted.
"So why the stares? I'm just passing through."
A few of the patrons began to walk over to the hooded man. They drew
forth daggers and clubs; Jacob's hand tightened.
"It's all right my friends, there'll be no trouble here tonight."
The drinkers returned to the bar, Jacob's grip was maintained with renewed
fervour.
"You just saved their lives. I'm an experienced traveller and have
bested better men than they."
The hood was removed and Jacob looked intently at the old man before him.
A raking scar upon his left cheek and one of his eyes had been removed.
A dark cavern looked upon him. whilst the other grey eye took stock of this
confident young man before him.
"I know why you're here stranger. Go back."
Jacob laughed.
"How would you know why I was here old man? All I wish for a few ales
and a days rest before I set forth on the road."
"The road to Feld's Gorge?"
Jacob became irritated.
"Listen. Go back to whatever stone you came from and leave me be.
I am going there, but it is no concern of yours."
"WHERE DO YOU THINK THIS CAME FROM?"
A finger pointed at the missing eye. Clearly he had knowledge of this
gorge.
Jacob quieted his irascibilty and motioned for the host to continue.
"My name is David Le Garre. I was of the mission of Youna many years
ago. We had heard of a great evil that lies within the gorge and we
were charged with removing that scourge. No doubt you're here because
of the rumours of great treasure in the depths?"
A sneer emerged. "You sense correctly priest."
Le Garre dismissed his address as priest.
"I am no righteous man now. Just a drunk who looks for the unwary."
"What happend to your eye then?" Jacob was impatient yet curious.
"At first things had gone well. Yes there was the undead, but our prayers
sent them to destruction. Then we found the iron door to lower depths
and we awoke fell devils below."
The old man paused, the pain even though old was still evident.
"We went down and were attacked by apparitions and more skeletons.
Many fell but they still came. My order was hard put and then we quailed
when we saw him."
"Him?"
"A foul demon by the name of Larkenrow. He captured us and sent us
down below where we were stripped and tortured by his brethren. Now
my old order remain there, undead pets of that thing."
"Yet you live. How do I know you tell the truth? You could have
lost that eye in brawl for all I know."
"He carved out my eye and devoured it in front of me. I tell the truth
and I have his mark upon me."
Le Garre rolled up his sleeve and upon his arm was a black mark that bit
deep into the skin. It was in the form of a bitemark and in the midst
of the scar was the name Larkenrow.
"He released me to warn others of the folly of heading for the gorge."
Jacob was unsettled slightly. He paused for a moment before he replied.
"Old man, I will send this Larkenrow back to the depths from which he spewed.
I will claim his head and you're order will be free again."
Le Garre turned and walked away from the brash adventurer. He never
spoke to him again, he knew that Larkenrow would have naked flesh caged for
entertainment again. A tear rolled down his one good eye and he left
for the chill outside.