On the way from the palace, Lokenth got lost in the city of Remton. He was no stranger to cities, even large cities, but this was the Far East, and everything was different here. He got turned around five or six times and just plain lost for two straight days, wandering the districts, his hand never far from the hilt of his short iron sword, his eyes always wary and watchful.
When he found the Boatman's, he put in a word with the bartender - a word leavened with a few copper coins - to inform him of the comings and goings of the people. He learned quickly that the adventurer known as Rouen had been there as lately as the day before yesterday but had left yesterday morning.
That bugger, Rouen! he thought, frustrated. Making me seek him out.
So he did. In his mind's eye, he was not just a man seeking another, he was a nobleman of true blood. He knew his Atamaran history, knew of the powerful judges and Arch-Priests, their laws and edicts and bloody wroth. One day, perhaps, he could afford the bribery and generous helping of coinage to pay off informers and tipsters throughout the lands, just like the Mad King was said to have done before being crowned.
But for now he had only the king's word and not the king's gold, so he pretended that Rouen was a monster to track to its lair, and followed the 'tracks' he left behind. It wasn't easy, but the man Rouen had a memorable, though common, face, and he needed no coin to discover that his quarry had left through the north gate, heading for the woods of Saex.
The road was well-traveled and constructed, and before leaving eyesight of the guards at the gate Lokenth decided to head back to the city. Why pursue the man like he were a beast? There's plenty of other adventurers. He knew the king didn't particularly care who they were - His Grace just wanted to see if Lokenth could recruit, organize, and lead. Besides, the condition of the road meant he could not find Rouen's tracks. Had it only been a dirt road, little-traveled, it might be different.
Might as well head back to that inn, he thought. There were sure to be plenty of adventurous-minded people there. As he turned back, the sunlight shone brightly, reflected off something in the bushes. Curious, he headed in its direction, searching in the dried branches, mosses and greenish-grey leaves for the shining thing. Sure enough, he almost strode right over it - a large blue gemstone, half-buried in the layers of sediment and soil beside a dying fern. It had a large crack, like a jagged bolt of lightning shooting through the center of it, but otherwise the crystal was (after some rubbing and shining with his tunic) nearly glass-like, with a deep blue all throughout (except for the white lightning bolt). How interesting. A sapphire.
He searched the area around it thoroughly, on the off-chance that someone had dropped or misplaced the stone along with others, but found nothing.
It was sufficient.
He found a jeweler around the corner from the Boatman's Inn. The coin he received for pawning the thing was probably less than a blue sapphire, even a cracked one, was worth - but it was sufficient. Whistling, he found his way to the inn and visited the barkeep.
"Find who you was lookin' for?" the pot-bellied, balding bartender asked Lokenth.
"Yes," he replied, surprised that the man remembered him. A bartender with a good eye for faces. He could be useful in the future. "Yes, I found something, alright."
He fumbled open his coinpurse, fetched out six newly-minted silver coins and put them on the bar. He glanced at the face imprinted on the coins, recognized it with a smile. He met the bartender's eyes and smiled winningly. "I'd like a room upstairs."
He jangled his purse. The other silver coins were accompanied by a single gold one, which he hoped not to have to break soon. "I'd also like to know when the man I'm looking for arrives."
The bartender looked at the coins again. "Rouen, right? I can send for you when he comes in."
"See that you do," Lokenth commanded. "Be prompt about it - whatever time of night or day it may be - and you will be rewarded."
The man grinned. "Minute he comes through those doors, I'll have my girl Risa bring you a flagon. My girl Risa. Not my daughter. Serving wench. Buxom girl, freckles and red hair. You'll like her, good master, that I vow."
Lokenth merely nodded. Girls going upstairs in this place usually only meant one thing. At least the poor greedy sap wasn't trying to pawn his daughter off on him. Lokenth had had more than he could want of the unmarried daughters of innkeeps, millers and blacksmiths. His money and his father's good name were sufficient to attract them like bees to honey, but there was no joy at the prospect now. He was a man with a mission.
The bed was well-stuffed with straw, comfortable and covered with a good warm blanket. It was the best bed he'd seen since he'd swam ashore. He fell asleep almost immediately.
The serving wench appeared before him like out of a dream, telling him that the man called Rouen was downstairs. She was plain-faced and her voice was bubbly and high-pitched, and her words almost came out as squeals. Despite the bartender's word, he didn't find himself particularly fond of her. Nevertheless he pressed a coin to her soft white hand and muttered a word of thanks.
Rouen wasn't alone. The woman seated next to him was beautiful in an unconventional, poorly-dressed, rugged and dirty way. He could see that she was strong and alert, and concluded she was an adventurer too. Rouen looked as his description indicated he would.
Lokenth seated himself at the bar, facing the street and the booth where his quarry were seated. He ordered himself a cup of wine and waited to see how long, if ever, it might take the pair of adventurers to notice they were being covertly observed. A good adventurer had an uncanny sense, an intuition about such things, he had learned. How would these two measure up?
[OOC: Sorry for the late reply. RL, always interferin' with mah RP!]
