DARMOD AND SONS
Near to dusk, Ginalli, Par Keld, Ezerhauten, Frem, Sevare, Putnam, and four other Pointmen arrived at a seaman’s inn called The Grasping Grond — a stout stone edifice just a few blocks up from the water's edge with walls some three feet thick. The square outside the inn featured a central fountain with a stone statue of a grond (a man-sized, hairy, long-limbed beast with fingers and toes similar to a human's) hanging one-handed from a tree limb.
“He’s late,” said Ginalli. “I wanted someone reliable.”
“It wasn’t an easy task,” said Putnam. “Most of the locals don’t speak much Lomerian, if any at all. The one we’re meeting with comes highly recommended.”
A mountain of a man, taller even than Frem and just as broad soon approached their table. Two young men that resembled the first followed behind him.
“One of you is called Putnam?” said the big man in a deep voice with a strong Juten accent.
“That be me,” said Putnam.
“I be Darmod Rikenguard,” said the man. “I hear you're looking to hire a guide. You want someone to take you to the top of the cliffs for a looksee or are you planning on going down into the valley?”
Ginalli motioned for Putnam to keep quiet. “I'm going down into the valley,” said Ginalli.
Darmod shifted his gaze from Putnam to Ginalli. “You the headman?”
Ginalli nodded.
“Just you going?” said Darmod, “or all these men too?”
“These and more,” said Ginalli. He motioned for Darmod to take a seat. He did. The two young men remained standing behind him.
“It's not often what folks want to do that,” said Darmod. “Lots of folks want to look from the cliff top, to see what there is to see, but not many got the stones to head down into the valley. Why do you want to? Sightseeing, exploring, treasure hunting, or something else?”
“My purpose is not your concern,” said Ginalli.
“How well do you know the paths over the cliffs and through the valley beyond?” said Ezerhauten. Ginalli scowled at Ezerhauten as he asked his question.
“My sons and I know those ways better than any men alive.”
“Quite a boast,” said Par Keld.
“Truth is no boast,” said Darmod.
“How many times have you traveled the valley?” said Ezerhauten.
“Ten times or thereabouts over the past thirty years.”
“Pfft,” went Keld.
“That's not very often,” said Ginalli.
“It's about nine more times than anyone else, except for my sons who've gone with me the last two times.”
“When was your last trip?” said Ezerhauten.
“Four years ago.”
“Pfft,” went Keld again. “Four years is a long time. He probably doesn't even remember the way.””
Ezerhauten spoke again. “Why has—”
Ginalli raised a hand and cut off Ezerhauten's question. “What is your price to guide us?” he said.
“The interior is a dangerous place,” said Darmod. “Even I do not travel there lightly. I would know your purpose.””
“You'll ask no more questions in that regard, or I will find another guide,” said Ginalli.
Darmod and his sons laughed. “There are no other guides for where you're headed, and a guide you most certainly need. There are a few what will take your coin, lead you down into the valley, and strand you on your own. I trust you'll see little value in hiring one of them no goods. Now if you just want to go up top for a looksee, there are a hundred men what will bring you up there fair and square. But for traveling inland, there is only Darmod and sons; nobody else. Only we have braved those ways and come back again. Warriors or not,” he said, looking them up and down, “those wilds would not suffer you long. If you go on your own, none of you would return, of that you can be certain. I cannot guide you, if I do not know where you want to go or what it is that you seek. The lands beyond the cliffs are vast and dangerous. Men who do not know the secret ways are unlikely to last a day out there. It is a dangerous place. So I ask you again, what is your purpose in this journey?”
Ginalli wouldn't budge.
“You'll know when we're safely down on the valley floor,” said Ezerhauten. “Then and only then.””
“Treasure hunters then, I suppose,” said Darmod, “Don't matter to me. If there's treasure to be found, it's yours for the taking. I just get paid my fee is all. Half up front. Half when I bring you back.”
“Done,” said Ginalli, who made ready to get up, the business concluded.
“How much?” said Ezerhauten.
“Five thousand pieces of silver, or the like in gold, or stones. Half up front, as I said. The rest when I bring you back, regardless of whether you find what you're looking for out there.”
“You're mad,” said Ginalli. “No one would pay that.”
Darmod stood up. “You will, if you want a guide. The interior is more dangerous than you would believe until you see it with your own eyes; I don't risk my life or my sons' lightly. Ask around after other guides. You won't find any what you can trust. Then come back to me. When you do, my price will be six thousand silver. And even then, I'll need some idea of where you want to get to in order to prepare the proper supplies.”
“I'll not pay such a price,” said Ginalli. “I will find another guide. Good day to you.”
Without a further word, Darmod and his sons were off.
“Did you see the look on his face?” said Keld. “He disrespects us. That man is no good. No good at all. Very unreliable,”” he said as he looked accusingly at Putnam.
Ginalli turned to Putnam. “What other guides did you find?”
“Like the big man said, lots will take us up the cliff,” said Putnam, “but few will enter the valley, and all those are of ill repute save for Darmod. There is another possibility, though. One man told me that there is an old temple, way up on the cliffs, where live some monks. He said they've been to the valley and could guide us, if we paid their price.”
“A temple?” said Ginalli, nearly leaping from his seat. “We're looking for a temple, you fool.””
“Could it be the right one?” said Ezerhauten. “I thought it was inland?”
“I don't know,” said Ginalli. “Legend says that the one we're looking for is deep within Jutenheim. But maybe atop the cliffs is deep enough. If that is the correct temple, we won't need to venture into their accursed valley at all.”
“I'll hire us a guide to bring us to that temple,” said Putnam. “Head up there at dawn?”
“At dawn,” said Ginalli.
The group finished their drinks and prepared to leave. Two tall Jutens blocked the exit, a steel crossbar across the door.
“Stand aside,” said Frem as he reached the door.
“It's too late, night has fallen,” said one of the men. “Didn't you hear the call?”
Frem looked confused and looked to Putnam who shrugged.
“What call? And so what if it's night?” said Frem. “Is there a curfew in this town?”
The guard shook his head. “You come in on a ship today?”
“Aye,” said Frem.
“Old Fortis called out sundown in fifteen, a while back,” said the guard. “That's when near half the folk got up and left. Didn't you notice?””
“I saw folks leave,” said Frem. “What of it? Explain yourself.”
“It's not safe to be out after dark in these parts,” said the guard.
“Spirits roam the streets at night,” said the other guard in little more than a whisper. “Spirits of the dead. They'll suck out your souls and leave nothing but bones behind.”
“And there are imp about,” said the first guard. “The black elves of Svartleheim, from deep under the cliffs. They roam about after dark, looking for the sick or injured to waylay or for small children to steal. They're dark wizards, they are. Their hearts are made of black stone, solid and cold as the cliffs.”
“They're demons, they are,” whispered the other guard.
“They rule the night, them creatures. The daytime is ours, but the night belongs to them. You don't want to go out there. Not if you value you lives.”
“And not if you value your souls.”
Frem turned around to see bewildered looks on his companions' faces.
“Superstitious primitives,” muttered Keld.
Old Fortis came waddling over, all five hundred pounds of him. “Is there some trouble here? Something wrong?”
“Your man says it's not safe to go outside,” said Ginalli.
“That it's not, your lordship. When night falls, we lock up tight in Jutenheim. I didn't realize this was your first night here or I would have made certain to explain things to you.”
“I suppose that there are rooms we can rent in this establishment?” said Ginalli.
“Of course,” said Old Fortis. “The Grond is one of the best inns in town. I think I've rooms for each of you, and then some if you're agreeable to double up. I'd be happy to extend you a discount, considering you're new here and got caught unawares.”
Ginalli smiled a knowing smile. “No doubt you are.”
“Just what do you take us for?” said Par Keld. “Bar the door, tell us it's not safe outside, and then take our money to let us stay? Nice try, but we’’re no fools.”
“Now tell your men to stand aside,” said Ginalli, “or I'll tell mine to move them.”
Fortis looked surprised and then his face grew dark, and his voice grew cold. “We bar our doors to keep folks safe, not to keep them prisoners. And we don't care much for threats; not much at all. You want out, then get out. When the spirits suck out your souls, don't come running back here, for my door will be locked up tight and will not open again until the sun shines on it.””
The guards removed the crossbar and opened the door to the night air, chill and foggy, the square deserted.
The group stepped out into the night. There were no moons out that night, and the stars were trapped behind the clouds. The moment that the Grond's door closed behind them, the group was plunged into near complete darkness. There were no street lamps lit. No lights in windows — all the shades down and shutters tightly closed. From them, no light escaped. There was little hope to find their way safely from the square, little less back to the ship.
Ginalli thumped the butt of his staff to the ground and the stone upon its top began to glow. It grew brighter and soon they could see as well as if they carried a torch. Par Keld and Sevare did the same trick with their staffs.
“What if they were telling the truth?” said Ezerhauten.
“Then I trust that your men can handle a few little elves,” said Ginalli. “Let's get back to the ship. Sergeant —— at first light, you find us that guide. I want us up there by midday at the latest.”