[piosenniel]

***** DALE-Jarl *****

'A State Dinner!' mused Jarl, looking carefully at the gilded invitation that had been laid on the table beside his door. 'An interesting concept, seeing the King and the State are one, or so I recall.' He wondered what lay behind this invitation.

His sources, some of them trustworthy, some not, hinted that the King had recently left the city. Destination unknown. It was rumored, though, that he was travelling with King Fuinur.

The King would not be present at the dinner, that he was fairly sure of. Who would be? He left his room and hurried down to the street below.

A short walk brought him to a dusty tavern down an unnamed side street. He went in, and stood for a while, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. The windows were shuttered against the heat of the afternoon, and the only light leaked in through narrow slits between the boards. The tavern appeared empty of customers. Only the tavern keeper and a serving boy looked up from the bar when he entered.

Then, he saw the one he wanted, sitting hunched over a dirty glass filled with some amber liquid, back booth. Catching his eye, Jarl nodded imperceptibly at him, approached the booth when beckoned, and sat down. The serving boy arrived, dirty rag in hand, and smeared the dust in different patterns on the tabletop.

'You wish something to drink?' asked the boy, directing his question to the old man whom Jarl had joined, then nodded also at Jarl. A look of disbelief shown on his face as Jarl answered him, with a small smile 'Two of these.' he said, indicating the glass the old man held. The drinks were quickly brought, and Jarl paid for them, giving the boy a handsome tip so that he and the tavern keeper might occupy themselves at the bar, away from the table.

'What is it you wish to know, Jarl of Dale?' asked the old man. His eyes shown shrewdly in his leathered face. Jarl fingered his glass, turning it slowly on the dusty table before him. 'There is to be a State Dinner this evening. I need to know who will attend, and what they represent. A short list will do. I need some background on who I'll be dealing with.' Jarl passed four gold 'dragons' across the table. 'Can you get this to me soon?' he asked 'An hour, perhaps?'

The old man looked at him , eyebrows raised. 'An hour! You ask much of my poor resources!' Jarl passed two more coins across to him, smiling. 'Done! and done!' said the old man, pocketing them. He raised his glass to his lips and drank it quickly.

'Is there anything else you require?' he asked.

'Just one last thing.' said Jarl, draining his own drink. 'The whereabouts of Herumir.'
The old man blanched, and rubbed his neck, already feeling the blade laid on it. Jarl leaned in close, across the table, 'Ten dragons for that information. Five when it is delivered, and five if it prove true.'

Jarl stood and strode quickly to the door, nodding at the boy and the tavern keeper. He walked down the street and ducked between two old buildings, standing still in the deep shadow that lay between them.

He saw the old man leave the tavern and hurry down the street to it's corner. The old man beckoned to a person leaning idly against the side of a dilapidated vendor's booth. He whispered in the person's ear, and something passed from hand to hand. The person, now Jarl could see it was a young appearing man, hurried quickly in one direction while the old man walked swiftly in another.

Jarl returned to his rooms. To wash the grime from himself, and then to dress for dinner. By that time, he expected to have the information he needed to navigate the evening.

Along the way, he stopped at several vendors' stalls to purchase food and drink. If this were like most State Dinners, he thought, he would have need of it.

[ September 28, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]