Anth 03 The Dragons Of Chaos by Dragonlance

Author:Dragonlance [Dragonlance]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-23T15:42:51.452000+00:00

The Magnificent Two Nick O'Donohoe

The wind whispered all around, dry and insidious, reminding the valley that no one was a farmer any more. Harri pulled his cloak tight despite the heat, trying in vain to shut out the dust. He nearly missed the inn; only a trick of the wind told him there was a building outside his field of vision. He raised his hood to look at it. The shingles were cracked and dry; the first rain would leak through them. The sign was a simple ale stein, bartered enough to suggest rough treatment inside. Below it, prominently, was a rack with pegs for swords, axes, maces, and other less identifiable weapons. A skull mounted on the rack for emphasis had an axhead still embedded in it. But the inn was clearly full, and the rack was empty. Harri looked at the empty rack thoughtfully and tucked his cloak carefully over his sword. Just before opening the door, he rucked a scroll in his belt, taking care to let it show over the top of the belt. Heads turned toward him, then quickly away, hiding faces. Hard times breed caution. He smiled at the barkeep (it was clearly too late to call her a barmaid), a voluminous but still pretty redhead with her hair up but falling down. With no welcome at all in her voice she said, "Welcome to Peacedale." "Nice name," he said, glancing about and trying to guess where the patrons were hiding their weapons. He brushed the gray dust out of his graying hair. "Something to cut the dust?" She held out her palm. "Something to cut costs?" He grinned and set his pack on a chair so he wouldn't have to bend over. He nodded to all the occupied tables, focusing momentarily on a slender blond lad who sat with his chair leaned against the wall and watched Harri with interest. He looked away and his eyes came to rest on a table where four men in battered cloaks were slouching on the wood benches and pretending not to watch him. He reached into his pack with one hand, automatically keeping his sword arm free. A few of the people in the bar looked like they might be the man he had come to meet. Harri tossed the barkeep a coin, watching without surprise as she tested it with a knife. He took the offered ale and drained half of it. When he lowered his tankard, the barkeep was still watching him. He smiled at her. "I can tell you like new faces." She shook her head without smiling or frowning. "You're not a trader." She hadn't spoken loudly, but others turned their heads fractionally. "You're not a cleric, and Paladine knows you're not a farmer. What brings you here?" "Change of scenery," he said amiably. "I thought a trip to the mountains would be good for me." She shook her head slowly again. Harri sighed. "The truth?" She nodded. "All right. Some months

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