Stories from RhyDin & The Rings

His pace was steady and measured as he reached the last bend in the road leading up to the city. The man drifted off the road to a large oak tree that provided shade and respite from the overly warm spring day. The hooded man leaned his chest against the tree, peeking a single eye around the trunk to look at the gates in the distance. Unconsciously he picked pieces of bark from the trunk of the tree as he nervously fidgeted, shifting his weight from foot to foot. There was almost a feminine longing in his gaze as if he were a teenage girl and the city were some handsome boy she was too afraid to profess her love for.

He raised his hand to his lips and found it trembling slightly. He spun, slamming his back to the trunk and slowly sliding down to a sitting position. Resting his elbows on bent knees he hung a slowly shaking head. How many times had he made it to this EXACT point and his nerve had fled him like a startled deer? How many trips to this very tree, with these very gates tantalizingly close before he felt as if the very air had fled his lungs and he was once again drowning in loss and regret.

His made a fist and punched his thigh once, twice, thrice. "Not today!" He chided himself. "It's time to find out, to settle debts and to make amends."

As he said this a small bird landed on a branch above him and began to sing a warbling song. The man smiled from under his hood, the first such genuine smile he could remember in months.

He had made a decision.

"The more things change..." He started to say, startling the bird from it's song, forcing it to take wing, but not before it unceremoniously dropped a runny white turd on his shoulder.

"...The more things stay the same."

As he legged his way up the slight incline towards the gates his doubt seemed to slowly evaporate.
His slight shuffle became an even walk which evolved itself into a confident stride as he passed by the soldiers
idly inspecting the morning cart traffic headed to market.

Pacing the morning traffic gave him the opportunity to survey his surrounding and compare them to the
last time he had been here. Still in evidence were the beggars, whether by choice or chance, the whores
whether starting early or getting off late and the ever-present packs of young children left to their own
devices while their parents eked out a meagre existence for themselves.

The low-slung hood of his homespun tunic swathed his face in shadow with the added benefit of giving the large
man a barely perceptible air of menace. Others stepped from his path yet would not be able to say exactly why even if
they had stopped to think, it just was. He did not push or jostle but maintained a small island of
emptiness about him while the morning throngs spread around him like a stream does a boulder.

The hooded man looked neither left nor right and kept his head tilted slightly down, denying those that sought to see
his face the ability to see anything more than a strong chin covered in stubble. His homespun tunic was ill fitting,
giving him the appearance muscle going slightly to fat yet he moved easily, walking mostly by toe instead of heel.

He noted that although the buildings stood as he remember, most of the business names had changed. It seemed that even
this magical place was not immune to financial problems. He mentally marked a bar called The Cracked Flagon for a drink
and possible room and board on his way back. The bar seemed well suited for his attire,
neither likely to deny him entrance for his common garb or mark him for attack by a seedier crowd.

Judging by the height of the sun he had roughly four hours till midday meal. That should be plenty of time to do a quick circuit
of the areas he needed to see and boards he needed to read before hunger and thirst made themselves known.

The hooded man took a quick right turn, slicing effortlessly through the crowd and into an alley that would save him many minutes
of travel to his first destination. The suspect nature of the alley didn't cause him pause as he lengthened his stride and entered
the alley's darkness.

The hooded man stood before an over-sized cork board searching the recent goings on of the area, specifically those of the martial variety. He recognized barely a quarter of the names and many he searched for where not in evidence at all. It seemed that time had passed him by and a newer generation had inevitably taken over.

"I am officially old and out of touch." He chuckled as he fought back the feeling that things moved too fast nowadays. He would have loved this tumult in his younger days and things weren't moving faster, he was just moving slower.

He closed his eyes and sighed before slashing his hand down to his side, snatching the hand that had threaded it's way into his pocket away and to the side. He ignored the high pitch squeal of outrage as he spun his smaller assailant around behind the message board and out of the public view.

A long fingered hand swung up and gashed his cheek and dug three furrows down his neck before he could secure it up above the attacker's head. Only then did he get a good look at the thief. She was thin almost to the point of emaciation with medium length, spiked blond hair that was none too clean. Dressed in what must have been a third generation hand-me-down boys outfit that smelled of earth and sweat. He guessed her to be about sixteen by her height. She was nothing but knobby knees and elbows and raged like a cat that had it's tail stepped on.

Piercing blue eyes narrowed as she tried kicking him in the groin. He grabbed both of her wrists in one large hand and pinned them to the wall above her head. "Let GO of me!" She growled as she full-body thrashed against his grip, causing him to twist his hips to the side to protect his privates from a thunder of barefoot kicks.

"Didn't your father ever tell you that if you mess with the bull you get the horn?" He spoke slowly as he lifted her off the ground so her toes barely scraped dirt. He shook her once, vigorously, as she raised a knee as if to strike.

"You'd better get your hands off of me if you know what's good for you." She threatened but the tremble in her voice played her words false.

The hooded man dipped his head in a sad shake. "You try to rob me and then have the balls to try and threaten me?" He said with equal parts anger and amusement. This young woman was either brave, stupid or possibly both.

"In case you didn't notice from under that hood, I don't exactly have balls!" She said in a mocking voice. "Just who the hell ARE you mister?"

"I'm nobody little girl." He said and reflexively tightened his grip as she struggled. She mewled softly in pain.

"Well NOBODY, I'm SOMEBODY and you're HURTING me!" She bit back a scream as tears began flowing down her face, clearing sad rivulets on her dust covered cheeks.

The hooded man flinched back at her words, dropping her and stepping back and automatically holding his hands up, palms out to show he held no weapons. Old habit died hard it seems.

The girl wobbled shakily and sagged against the wall then slowly slid into a seated position rubbing her injured wrists. She was crying silently, her eyes red-rimmed and brimming with angry tears. The hooded man was forced to reassess her age downwards.

"He's going to be so mad at me and this is my last chance, he said so himself." She mumbled to herself as her tears slowed. The hooded man offered her his hand and she gave him a juvenile sneer and spat "Get away from me, jerk, this is all your fault!"

The girl scrambled to her feet and knuckled the tears from her eyes. She looked so lost and alone the hooded man had to resist trying to hug her, knowing she would turn into a screaming bobcat instantly. So he did nothing and simply stood before her while she composed herself.

"So what now? You call the patrol and have me thrown in jail with the thieves and rapers?" She whispered as she hugged herself. "Or maybe we could come to another arrangement?" Her eyes would not rise above his chest as she tried what she thought was an alluring pose, back arched and hip cocked to the left. Her body spoke loudly of defiant youth but her face was pale and afraid.

The hooded man said nothing but took a tentative step towards her. She backed into the wall but straightened, raising her chin and peering into the darkness of his hood. All she could see was his smile and the vicious gashes her nails has made in his flesh.

"Well, if we're going to have an arrangement, why don't you tell me your name first?" He placed a large hand against the wall and leaned in close as the edge of his hood brushed her ear. She turned her head away from him and fought the tears that were threatening to return.

She bit her lower lip painfully and took a ragged breath. "My name is Shayah if it pleases." She was trembling openly now. This had gone so far past an easy pickpocket and was about to cost her the only treasure she had yet to lose in this world.

The hooded man reached into his robe achingly slow and said. "Give my your hand little Shayah, I have a present for you." He cruelly teased her. She whimpered and gave him her hand, trying to will herself someplace, anyplace else. He guided her hand down and used his thumb to open her fingers. She shuddered as his hot breath puffed against the side of her neck.

He put it in her hand, it was cold and hard under his thick thumb. Just as she thought she would scream he backed off quickly and folded his arms across his chest. Numbly, she stood there for a moment, unsure of just what he had done to her. She saw his hood cock down towards her hand and her eyes went mechanically down and stared at her closed fist. The cold hard thing was in her hand and it took her mind a minute to catch up to reality as she opened it and stared at the silver noble he had placed there.

"That's for whoever "He" is that's going to be mad at you. This," He said as he flipped another silver noble to her. "This is for you." He noted she was coming to her senses because she deftly snagged it from the air. He nodded and turned away to leave.

"But...but why?!" She stepped towards him, forgetting the fear she had been feeling not thirty seconds before. "I just tried to rob you and I probably scarred you for life. I mean, your neck!" She grabbed his arm and he let her spin him around. She reached up towards his face but he gently warded off her hand.

"I've had worse wounds from meaner women than you little girl." He said as she lowered her arm. "As for why," He paused in thought. "Let's just say that I was alot like you at your age." He shrugged his large shoulders as if that was answer enough.

She thought on this for a second and then smirked. "You mean you had luscious curves and perky breasts?" She looked at him wide eyed and full of innocence.

He snorted and shook his head at the girl. "No and neither do you." He saw the outrage crawl its way onto her face and amended. "YET, not yet I mean. Someday you will and this," he pointed back and forth between them "is not what you want to be doing when that day comes. Not everyone is as understanding as me."

She nodded seriously to him. "I wish it was that easy mister. I don't exactly have many choices right now. I see your point even though I can't believe you caught me, I really am that good." She look up at him and continued. "I once stole a noble's pants while he was...." She trailed off as her mouth clicked audibly open.

"What's wrong?" He asked as she shakily pointed at him.

"Your neck and face, they're healed!" She made a warding sign and took a step back. "Who the hell are you mister?"

"Like I said little girl, I'm nobody." He nodded and turned, waving to her as he walked away. "Be safe Shayah."

"Goodbye Nobody." She whispered to herself. "And thank you."

The hooded man sat in the Cracked Flagon drinking a cold beer. It felt good to be doing nothing, but the days events had him troubled. The encounter with Shayah had him wondering of the true state of the town since he'd left. It was entirely possible, he supposed, that back then he had only been interested in his own endeavors, his own pleasures. Maybe upon greater reflection he had been so absorbed in his own little world that he failed to see the outside world slowly crumbling around him. Whatever the case it was a riddle he was ill equipped to solve on his own and that meant one thing, he needed a good source of information, and fast.

He had planned on heading home tonight but there was this nagging feeling that he wouldn't be able to rest comfortably until he solved the matter of Shayah and the man she was so afraid of. So he had returned her and paid for a weeks room and board and added a few extra coing to the owner Josiah to keep the information to himself.

He finished off his mug of beer and scanned the busy establishment for a waitress. The young blonde server was too busy letting her behind get pinched by a caravan driver to be of any use so he waited until the other woman looked his way and he lifted a hand to get her attention. She nodded in an exasperated way and began threading her way through the tables, deftly dodging the hands the "accidentally" swung out in her path for a quick touch or grab.

"What can I do for ya, stranger?" She asked, holding an empty serving platter on her cocked hip. She blew an errant auburn curl from her face as she appraised him. He smiled at her from under the hood, liking her lithely athletic form gained from years of manual labor. She stood serenely in this hectic bustle of humanity and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "THAT is not on the menu, at least not for dinner." She teased as she rotated the serving tray around her waist to rest upon the other hip.

The hooded man smirked at the jest. "Must be the dessert special." He quipped back as he held up his mug. "I'll take another drink when you get the chance and whatever's cooking in the pot. I'm not picky when it comes to food...except my dessert." He added with a flourish of his hand and a smile.

"Oho! we have a silver-tongued devil here. Well, let me make my way through the crowd of ass grabbers and I'll be back as soon as I feel like." She challenged him playfully. "I swear I feel like I'm in a tank full of hungry octopus...octopuses? No, no, no Octopi!?" She looked at him questioningly.

"I think ass grabbers works better in this instance, besides, I think they lack the suckers of an octopus." He offered up hoping she'd take the bait.

"Pfftthh!" She grunted. "The lot of 'em are suckers in one way or another. I'd better get moving or Josiah will tan my ass." She looked at him pointedly. "No witty replies stranger or I'll be here all night trading jokes with you. It sounds like loads of fun but it doesn't pay the bills." She spun on her heel and waded her way through crowd once more.

The hooded man leaned back in his chair and smiled. It was rare to meet a woman who bantered like a man and managed not to look like one at the same time. She was almost a foot smaller and a hundred pounds lighter but she carried herself with the confidence of someone much bigger. Maybe she could help him with information and if not, at least offer a little mental diversion.

She returned a short while later, tray laden with his and many other peoples orders. She doled out the various drinks and food to the other customers and finally made her way to his table. "Now did I leave the best for last or am I a cruel wench that enjoys watching you suffer?" She spoke jauntily as she slide a trencher of beef and bread in front of him and deposited a pitcher of beer along side it. "This isn't because I think you're cute, hell, you're wearing a hood for gods sakes. I'm just dead tired and I'm saving myself a few trips!" She nodded but didn't leave.

"I'm incognito, I can assure you that it's not all that bad under there. It's just that I'm keeping a low profile for now. I've been gone a long time and I'm trying to get accustomed to the way things are but I'm pretty much lost here." He clinked of few coins on the table. "I'm new in town and you said trading jokes don't pay the bills so I have an offer for you." Immediately he knew he had made a mistake.

She dropped her serving tray on his table with a loud crash. It had the effect of silencing the room as if she had cast a spell. "I am NOT a Pr..." she began until she realized the whole room was watching them. She leaned in close over the table and under the guise of arranging his plate she hissed. "I am NOT a prostitute you bastard." Somehow missing his frantic hand waving chants of "No,no,no."

"Information....not, THAT!" He plead and gulped when her face darkened even more.

"What? Is something wrong with me?! Do I not meet you high standards my lord?" She pointed a finger at his chest. "Any man here would be happy to be with me and be the luckier for it! What's so special about you?" She stood up and folded her arms and began impatiently tapping her foot. He noticed that a few of the older men at the bar were giving him knowing smirks.

Completely flustered, the hooded man ventured forth. "First I'd be happy to be with you...I mean lucky and my standards aren't really that high." He shook his head and gulped. "NO, NO, NO! I mean if I was lucky to be with you I would have high standards because you're beautiful but it's not about that." He paused, breathing in short gasps

She smiled. "Ah, you like men." She nodded and whispered. "Be careful, not everyone here is understanding as me."

The hooded man sputtered. "WHAT!? I mean no, I like women but I just need some information....some help." He picked up his napkin and wiped his suddenly sweaty face.

The woman was laughing gaily. "I knew exactly what you meant when you first said it, sweety. Can't fault a girl for having a little fun. I'm busy now but maybe when work is over you and I can trade some double entendres together and I'll help you out as best I can." She gave him a wink and turned to leave.

"Um, what time do you get off?" He croaked, knowing what was coming.

"Hey now, ya started without me!" She laughed and went back to work.

By the time the hooded man sat down, Andra was on the 9th hour of her shift. Despite the switchblade she kept in her apron, her ass had been grabbed enough times to make it ache almost as much as her feet. Just because her cousin ran the tavern did not mean she couldn’t get fired for stabbing a customer, so she decided to have some fun with the next person that sat down. Luckily for her it was the man in the hooded jacket.

When he said he had an offer for her, she thought, “Oh perfect, here’s another one.” But then he began to sweat, frantically backpedaling, so she took the piss right out of him. She couldn’t see his face, but he obviously was a strong man, well put together, and here he was stammering. Back and forth they went, until he confessed all he wanted was information. Not only was she intrigued, the pain of her feet and backside from a long day was completely forgotten. Honestly she hadn’t had this much fun in months.

“Um, what time do you get off?” the man said, sounding like he already regretted what came out of his mouth.

“Hey now, ya started without me!” Again she laughed, turning her heel and going back to the kitchen for another order. The double doors leading to the kitchen swung freely behind her, steam billowed up from the pots on the stove, and racks of bread were cooling on the opposite side. The back door was propped open to allow fresh air in and some of the heat out. Already her hair was sticking to her face. Outside the sun was setting and a light rain had begun to fall. She checked the tickets and smiled at the boy chopping vegetables. Her smile must have been brighter than she realized because he suddenly looked very suspicious. She stood by the door to steal some of the cooling breeze when a hand grabbed a hold of her shirt from behind.

“AH!”

“Shhhhhh, Andra! It’s me, Shayah. Keep it down!” The thin waif rushed out.

Andra smacked her young cousin on the arm, and despite the drizzle, some dirt flew off in a puff. “Never scare me like that again! I almost bashed you with my tray! And what are you doing here? I won’t have any leftovers until after we close. Maybe I can grab you a burnt roll, but that’s all I could get away with for now. Josiah is more miserly than ever.”

“Wait, are you ok? Are you hurt? Has that bastard Marcus laid a hand on you?” Worried, she looks the young girl over like the mother she is.

“Leave off Andra!” Swatting the older womans hands away. “You know just as well as I do that Marcus likes to slap us kids around. He says it keeps us ‘motivated’. Save the speech too, you got lucky. I gotta eat too ya know.”

Reining herself in, she agreed she had no grounds to lecture her cousin on street life. Andra was a former street kid herself. “Then tell me why you’re here. And get out of the rain dummy.”

Shayah told Andra of one of the pockets she tried to pick, how she was caught and the scuffle that ensued.

“I scratched his face! And he healed up!” Shayah snapped her fingers. “Just like that! I never did see his whole face, but I’m telling you Andra-something is not right with that guy. I mean who gives coin to a thief, AFTER they’ve been caught? And heals up so fast? I really wish I could keep it too. The coin, I mean. Marcus has been taking more and more. The more loot we bring him the more he wants. There’s talk of putting the girls on the corner, hell, some of the boys too I don’t doubt. Anyway, I kinda hung around and saw the hooded guy come here so I had to tell you.”

Andras eyes seem to look through the closed kitchen doors. “I think I’ve met him. Table 12.”




Shayah went on her way with a piece of bread more toast than anything else but it was all Andra could spare for the moment. The split second her cousin was out of sight, her *other* cousin, Josiah, came bellowing into the kitchen. “ANDRA! Git ya skinny arse back to work! I got five tables needin’ their order.”

She filled up her tray until the metal nearly bowed under the weight, exiting the kitchen rear end first. For the next hour she performed the finely tuned dance of the waitress. The stranger in the hood had not waved her over again but she did refill his pitcher of beer, she smiled at him but as she was about to say something another customer looked like he was going to have a fit. By the time that fire was out, her shift was up. Another waitress, Rachel, who was a woman in her 60s and as prickly as barbed wire, took over her tables. All except table 12.

Andra freshened up and unceremoniously dropped herself into a chair at table 12. “Hello again, stranger. Miss me?” Now able to sit down, she was ready to enjoy herself. “I’m all yours.” She took his nearly empty glass from his side of the table, filling it from the pitcher. She drank the glass empty like a seasoned sailor. “What did you want to know?”

The hooded man was feeling ecstatic for the first time in a long time. He had taken a gamble and left Andra a letter inviting her to meet him in the annex to talk and she had shown! She had either keen insight into his character from their first meeting or an extreme lack of concern for her own well being. The hooded man was generally a good judge of character and Andra Driscoll did not strike him as a woman who put herself needlessly at risk. In fact, it turned out that she knew more about his situation than he'd expected.

"I have to confess that I know about the girl. Her name is Shayah, she's my younger cousin." She had admitted shyly. She had come to the annex knowing half of the story but the why was still escaping her and she had let him know.

"I left a long time ago and when I finally returned I couldn't decide if things had changed so drastically or I had just been that blind." He confided to her. "I spent so much of my time making people notice me that I never had the good graces to see those around me. It's something that I regret and regrets are something I swore I would never have."

Andra had regarded him over a glass of Glenlivet, weighing her words. "There are hundreds or people suffering every day here. Why her?" Simple and to the point.

The hooded man had avoided the why himself. The sight of Shayah brought him back to twelve years ago and another young, blonde girl. El had been older and never needed a man to protect her but in some ways she had been so broken. He had never been able to crack the outer shell that El had erected around her and before he knew it, she was gone. This was all doubled by the fact that Shayah looked like a younger sister of El's. Same spiked blonde hair, same independent streak, same fiery temper. Where El had been steel, Shayah was still only iron. She appeared strong but there was a brittleness to her that would appear if struck.

"There may be hundreds suffering and I know there's nothing I can do for them but what kind of man would I be to turn my back on a child. Of all the people she had to pickpocket, she chose me and failed. I don't believe in fate but when things line up, I tend to look along the edge into the distance and don't ignore the signs." This came bursting out as if he was trying more to convince himself of his sincerity instead of Andra.

Andra accepted his reason and seemed to set the matter aside. They made small talk and she told him about her two children. He was surprised to find himself even more attracted to her. There was a time when he would have made his polite goodbyes and then fled with all haste to escape the "ready made family" type of woman. When she told him about her children it was as if she had said, "The sky is blue, water is wet and I have children." and that was fine with him.

He had joked about an angry husband knocking on his door in the middle of the night and just to his luck, she revealed that her husband had died. He had offered his sincere, and embarrassed, apologies but she gently waved them off. "He was a sailor and the wife of a sailor knows the dangers involved."

They were both silent for a while, the anticipatory mood now shattered by his misstep. They had finished up their drinks and he had offered to walk her home and she accepted. Andra took one last look down at the dueling rings before they left, fascination on her face.

The whole walk home he had to fight the urge to brush her hand with his in the hope that she would grab hold of his. He was in virgin territory and had very little skill at courtship in even it's simplest form. So he compensated with the playful verbal sparring they both seemed comfortable with. When they reached her meager apartment building she thanked him with a smile that melted that glacial part of his heart and promised to meet see him tomorrow at the Cask and Flagon.

On his way back to his room at the Flagon the hooded man wasn't quite skipping but it was close enough and that was fine with him.