Character Sketch

Sandor Mangini drank the last drop of warm mead in the mug and pushed it towards the wench. She scuttled over to refill it and tucked the coin into her leather pouch on her belt.

“Sandor,” said Boriant, his burly friend. “You must come up with some of that money before they arrive tomorrow.”

“I know,” he replied, as the door to the bar opened and a well-dressed man entered, his cloak dripping rain. He scanned the room from underneath the brim of a hat. Sandor caught a glimpse of the stranger’s sword, as he sat at an empty seat at the end of the bar. “Maybe I just found some.”

“Lager,” the stranger said and the wench opened the spigot of a wooden keg. He slid two coppers to her. “Do you know of any rooms?”

“There’s an inn just down this street. It’s called, The Wandering Bard,” she replied.

“He’s a soldier,” Sandor said into his mug. “Those are military boots and cuffs.”

The door opened and several men entered. The rain smeared dark patches of sot covering their clothes.

“Guess the mines are closing late,” said Boriant. “Do you still want to do this?”

“We need the money,” he replied. The miner’s cacophony drowned out his words.

“No, you need the money.”

The stranger finished off his lager and rose.

“You’re gonna help me right?”

“I get half.”

He put on his cloak and hat and headed for the door.

“Come on. I need it right now.”

He left.

“Half or I’m not in.”

“Done but I’ll remember this.”

They rose and eased their swords from the scabbards, stepping out into the light rain.