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The Guilded Cage, Ch 1

A New Beginning

Having lived in St Almar his entire life, Dorias had a fairly decent understanding of the city's layout. Despite the enormous size of the western capital of the Holy Empire, forty-plus years was more than enough to know his way around and, to that effect, the Yak was only a little surprised when the stranger identified only as Graves led him south eastward. Despite the Beast-Kin's confusion, he knew better than to draw attention to himself by striking up a conversation with the Human leading him through the city streets until they were safely out of the Business Quarter.

Waiting until they passed through the gates that separated the Service District from the southern portion of the City Center, Dorias spoke quietly nevertheless. "Ye be takin' me toward th' docks?"

Despite the streets being fairly empty so late at night, the Yak kept his tone low so it wouldn't carry. At first, he thought perhaps his guide hadn't heard him but, at length, Graves came to a stop beneath a small overhang of a townhome entryway. "Yes. Alimys asked that I take you some place where the Wardens wouldn't find you, and they never bother with the Docks."

The Human was well within his right to continue on; he certainly didn't owe Dorias any explanations, and yet he remained where he was, legs planted a shoulder width apart, the palm of one hand resting on the golden tip of his walking cane with the palm of the other resting atop the first. Dorias felt as though Graves looked almost... expectant. Perhaps that's what inspired the Yak to speak further. "Ye be riskin' a lot t'elp save one Beast-kin on th' run from th' Wardens, Ser."

As if that statement gave the Human leave to continue, Graves simply nodded and returned his attention to the road, stepping out from the overhang before continuing along the road. "Yes, but your benefactor has been good to me and mine. Helping his godson is the least I can do in repayment."

Few people if any knew of Dorias' actual relationship with St Almar's librarian, which told the Yak all he needed to know: Alimys obviously trusted the enigmatic, well-dressed Human so Dorias could do no less. Following after his guide, the Beast-Kin took the opportunity to observe him silently; Dorias was good at assessing people by their non-verbal cues as well as their words, and Graves' demeanor spoke volumes.

If the Yak had to guess, he would have assessed Graves' age only a few years greater than his own. The Human carried himself with an air that suggested he was used to being obeyed which, coupled with his generally healthy appearance and progressing years implied that he was of upper class lineage-- though his clothing did just as good a job of conveying that for the less observant. Graves had a fine traveling cloak on over a long embroidered evening coat. His slacks were made of a fine, dark gray material and his walking cane, though difficult to see in the dim light of the streets of the docks, had the tell-tale signs of being iron-wood back when Dorias had glimpsed it in the more opulent lighting of the business district.

Alimys, being a librarian, had always been of comfortable means. Elves valued knowledge and the books which stored it so, even though the Beast Kin's foster father had been a public servant he still had enough to live a pampered life-- especially when compared to the poor Beast-Kin in other portions of St. Almar. Alimys, however, didn't spend as much on a week's worth of clothing as what Graves wore in one night, and that didn't even include the man's walking stick, which likely could have provided enough wealth to purchase a horse if liquidated on-cheap.

Keeping his own thoughts to himself, Dorias followed his guide down to the Dockside. Out of every place in the city, the small collection of stores, inns, taverns and brothels was probably where the Yak had spent the least amount of time. While he was hardly a dandy, he realized readily that most Beast-Kin along the Wharf and Dockside were usually the rough-and-tumble variety. Since he took great pains to present himself well and reflect positively on Alimys, Dorias generally avoided such places. Graves, however, made no qualms about walking straight up to one of the buildings.

The Yak was no fool when it came to hiding the fact that he could read and so, when he gazed up at the sign depicting a seahorse comprised of water and kelp, he ignored the title of the sign which identified the tavern as 'The Stranded Kelpie' and instead stepped to the side to make way for a rather imposing white-furred Bear making his way out of the doorway. Unfortunately for Dorias, the Bear went out of his way to change his direction of travel so he could purposefully slam his shoulder into the Yak's, followed by a very pointed "Hey! You lookin' to get a bloody muzzle, cow? Maybe you wanna give me a handful a silver for the trouble?"

Before Dorias could speak up, Graves had stepped between them. Although the Human's motions were a blur, the Yak was clearly able to register the four times he distinctly heard metal impact flesh and watched as a thin rapier slid back into place within the hollowed length of his cane. The Bear took just as long to realize that he'd been struck by the flat of Graves' blade on both thighs and both calves. Giving Dorias a gentle shove toward the entryway, the Human regarded the Bear. "Please... do keep the change."

Despite the Bear's obvious itching for a confrontation, Dorias realized that the thug was not stupid; he was probably just as impressed and surprised at Graves' swordsmanship skill (or even the fact that he HAD one at all) to argue further and he quickly stepped off of the stone walkway and onto the street. The Bear disappeared quickly into the crowd of sailors who were headed elsewhere. The Human then turned back toward Dorias before nodding again to the building. "I have a room reserved for you. Give them my name."

The Yak paused, just inside The Stranded Kelpie. "Ye don't plan on comin' in, Ser?"

Offering a courteous nod of his head in parting, Graves gestured back toward the road. "I am afraid not. Sadly, I have other tasks that require my attention, but I promised your benefactor that I would be back to check on you. The people here are sympathetic to the cause-- you'll be tended to and given all opportunities to start fresh."

Dorias lingered a moment longer. "An' what cause is that, Ser?"

The Human offered the faintest hint of a smile as he winked. "The only one that matters, my good man. Good luck to you."

With no further information provided, Graves turned and went on his way, strolling casually down the street as if he hadn't a care in the world. Dorias envied him on a number of levels but he resolved to focus more on his own situation. Turning back to regard the common room of the tavern, the Yak saw that it was quite busy, which wasn't unexpected considering the time of night. He also saw that there was broad representation from St Almar's many races including Humans, Beast-Kin and a wide variety of Humanoids, even a single lizard folk sitting off by itself in the corner. The vast majority of the patrons had the obvious look of sailors to them, which made sense since the place was adjacent to the Docks.

Even as he stood off to the side of the entrance, Dorias was approached by a tall, portly-looking Human. The man had a big nose, a receding hairline, and a face full of red veins that suggested an abundant love of alcohol. He wore an apron, which was almost as obvious as his huge smile. "Well there... welcome to The Stranded Kelpie... Did I just see you walk on in with Graves?"

Not trusting himself to speak, and knowing his dialectic tended to be memorable for most folks, Dorias simply nodded, offering only a muted "Mmm-hmm." in response.

The fellow kept his smile in place, gesturing toward a small desk off to the side of the room; it flanked a small staircase. "Well, head on over... Graves got your room covered for a week-- said to make sure you're all set up and taken care of. Did he say when he was expecting to be back?"

Dorias shook his head in response, following the man to the desk. The fellow walked around the side and opened up a small lockbox, pulling out a key with the number twelve written on it. Apparently not minding the Yak's lack of words, the Human continued talking. "Graves said you'd be taking your meals in your room-- I'll send Molly up with some dinner for ya. Dinner is usually at sunset but we still have some stew left in the pot. Breakfast is at dawn. You know your numbers, friend?"

The Beast-Kin offered a fresh nod and accepted the key, confirming his knowledge by stating clearly "Twelve."

The man smiled "Right you are. Go ahead and rest up... that's one of our nicer rooms-- we keep it on hand just in case Graves or any of his pals needs a place. I guess you're with em, so it's yours fur the duration."

Unable to at least offer basic manners, Dorias carefully enunciated his gratitude. "Thank yoo, Sirr."

The inn keep responded with a nod. "Hey... never you worry about that. Graves and his people do some good work for the city. Think nothing of it."

Dorias made his way up to his room wondering just who Graves was and with what he'd found himself associated.