The Books of Renly.

The Nomeys had a debt to claim and a room to find not forgetting a plan to play out in the winning of some coin and the selling of some weapons to up their bets and fortunes, time will tell if the bet will be a good one for them and our fighters. First port of call was these weapons of theirs, the forge masters of this city where some of the most skilled across the realm and did not take kindly to any of the competitions works often ridiculing anyone who used their co-creators works. This would not be an easy sell by any means, the true value lay in the very metal they were cast from. Most of them only valued for the amount of quality metal for melting them down to create new blades or a dazzling variation of weapons of various qualities and deadly desires are reforged deep within them. The forger’s always paid the least for blades unless the blades had ancient magical properties or ornate etchings of spells upon them, often scribes would be bribed into etching some garbled writings across worthless hunks of metal to increase the value of them. If caught this can lead to severe punishment by the guards of the city or cast weaponless into the pits for the pleasure of all.

Nomey’s could be the most cunning of men only approaching new forgers or men with little knowledge of blades and the writings on them in the hope of scooping a larger value for lesser blades, to this end the best place to sell these worthless blades was to the new pit fighters masters or would be treasure hunters in the taverns and inns across the city. Their search would not take long before they had discovered their mark in a new forge masters son who had lost his father to a bad bet and was on the down side of his family’s luck. Propped up at a table in the corner of the Hounds Inn drinking and singing songs of loss and sorrow of his recently deceased father. The Nomeys began enquiring around the inn for information on the glump looking boy, they quickly learn of the boy’s father’s ill fate and with ale in hand they approach with what they have to sell.

Before long the Nomeys were weaving a slightly twisted tale of how a fighter who had once owned these very blades had all on his own, had fought off a group of giant wild hounds in the forests not two nights before sadly also he lost his life in a bet that very morn with a few characters of a questionable nature. Explaining they had come to own them only out of an owed debt to themselves, not wanting to cart them clean across the realm they would rather sell them to him and maybe change his fate with them. The forge master son not looking too convinced by their story listened as the Nomeys tried their best to convince him of their worth, these blades cut through the thick hides of the hounds with ease left as they were. maybe if they were to be recast by a skilful hand would surely see an improvement on your fate the Nomeys implied with their words, all the while the forgers eyes beginning to show interest in the blades they had. Picking up each weapon and inspecting them the forger questioned the Nomeys “And I suppose the word of Nomey means these blades were not stolen from travelers on the forest roads a quick sale to an unsuspecting forger would be the quickest way to get rid of such evidence now wouldn’t it?” the Nomeys did not hint at a reply to this question only laughing off the comment in the hopes of securing the coin. After some tactile deviation form the subject the conversation had moved onto the price of the weapons and the next hour or so they tossed back and forth over a price for the blades, settled only when each of them could hold back hunger or the belching of cheap ale no longer calling for wild boar and more sweet ale to seal the deal of not more than thirty gold coins and the two horses their fighters rode in on for good measure as they would not likely need them again.

Deals done with coin in hand the Nomeys had one more call to make that night before retiring to the inn, which was to one of the rival breeder with an offer of coin and the runt of a litter of the hound if they could successfully breed their new creature. The owner of several hounds himself he would possibly like to see one that could withstand the blast of a white spell and not only live through it but to come back stronger. After all what rightfully respectable breeder would not want the chance of such a powerful creatures offspring. They walked a few streets in search of the breeders home identified by two large basalt statues of hounds sitting either side of a large wrought iron gate as tall as two men with spikes on top, but most noticeably two hounds head mounted in the center one in each gate, one holding a large bell to be rung for their attention the other with a gap in its mouth perfect for messages to be slipped inside. The Nomeys had better sense than to disturb the occupant opting to instead to slip a note inside detailing the plan for them to kill the fighter by way of poison and not the hound, not forgetting to include the offer of its offspring, indicating if they were to take the offer they were to paint the tongues of one their statues with blood to say they accepted their offer.

The Ogre Inn was still a short time away not wanting to be seen returning to see the reply they grab a street rat boy waving a gold coin before his eyes, telling him if that statue is painted red to find them in the inn and tell them at once, and there would be another coin in it for him. The scrawny ill fed boy had not seen a gold coin in his lifetime his eyes transfixed he agreed to their offer snatching the coin and taking refuge in the shadows once more. Hardly another word was said between them for the rest of the journey as they traveled the streets making their way to the inn, an almost certain stench filled place but a bed to sleep for the night. No man could vouch for the honor of the men and creatures alike that would bed within the inn, possible the only place where the occupants are more dangerous than the creatures in the forest, gold will buy you protection only if no one outbids you in the effort to survive the night. The owner Grogg was not any sort of man if you could call him that, was not always a trustworthy man but a bet was a bet and he has no choice but to pay up, besides no man likes admitting he lost a challenge and to a women makes a certainty of him paying up. Not even the claiming she was a witch was able to get him out of owing the bet, a low blow but not a far cry from a hidden truth knowing the Nomeys.

The inns music, chatter and laughter almost filled the street taking over the obnoxious smell from the sess pits and occupants. Entering the inn the patrons fell silent, Grogg turning his head from the back of the bar to see what trouble had entered, upon spotting the Nomeys he called them over to the bar the tension relaxed and as if at once the conversation began to roar again. Laughing as they reached the bar the Nomays called out over the chatter “See this place hasn’t changed Grogg, we need a room for the night and jugs of ale our work today has brought us much thirst,”

“Listen boys, I may owe a debt to you for loaning me that coin but I am full, this fight has us packed. I have even filled dear old mar’s room and she is bunking with me. Dread the thought of sleeping with a women that ate the last man she slept with, so unless you want to sleep with her I would try and find somewhere else to bed tonight.”

“Well Grogg our reply to that would have to be either you and your mother find elsewhere to sleep or the debtors will have this inn from you and we will have our pick of rooms, even a chance of seeing your dear old mother fighting an ogre or two come tomorrow.” Grogg’s eyes were the giveaway to his fear, for a brief second he stared back only breaking his silence to let out a nervous laugh claiming he was joking and they could have a room he had been saving for someone apparently arriving late that same night. With a gaze they let Grogg know they meant business, rubbing their fingers together they signal the need for a table of gamblers to bleed of their coin, all the while they question aloud “what are the odds for the fighters in the pits for tomorrow Grogg.” Grogg begins to pour them a jug of ale while fixing his gaze on a table of travelers playing ten by the window. “ I have heard there is a new late fighter been add to the competition a man with a large hound the deadliest of fighters,” the Nomeys shouted back at Grogg turning their heads to follow the line of his gaze.

“You think that runt and his hound have a chance?” a booming familiar voice called out to them from across the inn. Stopping only for a moment the Nomey’s puzzled looks gave way to a smile as they realised they knew the voice that had called to them. “We suppose your Catgars will be making their first ever win then Fragar? Why not place a bet and we will see who wins,” the Nomeys replied trying to real in a bet or two. These two have a history of betting on the outcome of their beasts in the pits and this time was to be no exception, the laughter roared as the Nomays grabbed their jugs heading to Fragar’s table to push up the ante a little more.

The pits holding pens had plunged into almost darkness as in turn each of the torches began to burn out in the depths of the night, the creatures and beasts had started to snore and grumble as they slept. The occasional scratching, belching and farting could be heard echoing throughout the halls and corridors piercing the quiet and fowling the already pungent air. Our friend had settled and was now lying asleep upon the belly of his new friend keeping warm, his head rising and falling as the hound breathed moving him in an almost perfect rocking motion. Enjoying every moment until awoken by a light that was as pure as the spells boom’s white light, which was beginning to fill the cages. His hazy vision could make out the light was emanating from the dark cage where the keeper had lost his life to the creature’s hunger from within it. Bathing them both in such an intense light leading to a state of temporary blindness, no longer able to see they closed and covered their eyes still the light shone through them, growing so bright they could see the colour of their own blood coursing throughout their veins. The light dissipated as quick as a snuffed candle, he slowly lowered his hands from his eyes still squinting, his vision blurry at first as both our fighter and his hound try to look about and determine what had just happened.

Although not clear at first they could make out each torch light appeared to be relit and roaring bright as if they were freshly placed into their hooks. Listening for what extra clues he could while his vision was returning he noticed not a sound was coming from each or any of the other creatures in their cages, focusing and fixing his gaze on the adjacent cage his eyes locked onto the body of the creature in there lying motionless a feeling of pure dread and fear began running from his heart through his body setting a chill about him as he shuddered, checking each cage in turn incase the creature had simply died but not one of them was moving feeling somehow weakened by the light his head came to rest looking straight out the cage. At that moment he become fixed on a cloaked and hooded figure of more than twenty feet hunched over as not to crack its head on the ceiling, locked in an apparent gaze unsure if this was the case as its eyes and face were not visible, it was only made clear as it followed the retreat of our fighter and his hound to the back of their cage now pressing hard on the gate, trying to piece together exactly what was happening from the corners of his eyes he could see a thin stripe of a grey cloud rushing at the creature from both sides moving slowly at first getting quicker as it approached the creature.

Clashing and swirling round the creature the wisps of smoke found its way into every tear and hole of it’s cloak, until the last few specs could be seen to vanish inside, a flash of electric blue energy lit the inside of the cloak beaming out of the gaps, a crack of thunder could be heard from inside as the cloak parted from the front and out stepped an aged, balding man of five feet with a poncho made of wolf fur draped over his shoulders and a red cloak adorned with finely stitched gold words over its surface. The hound apparently feeling uneasy by the visit climbed to its feet beginning to growl and snarl at the man stood before them “calm yourself creature, sleep and your master and I will be back before you know it,” the man calmly explained, the hound as if he knew him laid down still transfixed on his position.

“ I don’t know who you are, but i can make a safe bet you are a wizard. Nor do I know your creature there but I have no intention of leaving this place with you or anyone,” our fighter answered back with an air of discontent for the man stood before him.

“Leave, don’t leave but what I have to say you want to know, like how that creature survived that attack and more to it why it now follows you protecting you like a puppy, there is more to this situation then you realise and your family line will need to be protected for many years to come. How long it will remain that way will be down to you and how you progress through this.” the wizard explained. Our fighter giving him a look of interest “I suppose you’re going to tell me you know who I am, well I haven’t a clue I have no recollection before I was found on a battlefield covered in blood and body parts, I spent years trying to find out where I was from, giving up when I found nothing, in favor of making a new life for myself fighting in these pits.” our fighter not willing to listen further had turned his back upon the wizard.

“There are some questions best left unanswered for you right now, tomorrow you will have the chance to gain a new name and in time I will call for you again when you are ready for the answers I hold, for now you must know two things the first is the bond you have with this creature runs deeper than you think and the second is the Nomeys mean to separate the two of you by way of a fowl deed and that cannot be allowed to happen.” the man then turned his hand showing an empty palm, clicking his fingers a staff appeared in his hand raising the top and pointing it at our fighter he began to chant an incantation, the staff began to glow and vibrate in his hand a humming sound built as he continued until it was a ball of light at the end, in a flick of the wrist the ball was ejected through the cage bars crashing into our fighter and his hound knocking our fighter back to the floor.