A Death

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 27th December 2016

Characters: Taril, Olov, Captain of the Guard (NPC)
Description: The Captain of the Guard brings news of a death.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 9, day 5 of Turn 8
Notes: Mentioned: Humari, Yriadha

The day after the fight dawned sunny and clear, and Taril was already down by the docks to enjoy it. Even this early, the shoreline was a hive of activity as the fishermen headed out to sea for the day with empty nets as the tide turned. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he stood at the end of a pier and scanned the horizon. None of his ships were due that day, but the sweet air and sunshine helped to clear his head after a late night. Taril stood for a moment longer, then turned and limped back to his office. Dodger came to join him half way, the little brown's breath stinking of fish as he settled himself across Taril's shoulders.

The merchant unlocked his office door and left it swinging open to catch the morning light. His desk was clear, his ledgers tucked away for the night away from any prying eyes. He unlocked his desk drawers and hauled out his manifest to start the day just as a shadow darkened his door. Taril looked up and frowned. "Good morning to you, Captain."

The Captain of the Hold Guard strode into the small room with a sneer on his face, followed by a hulk of a man in a guard's uniform-- Polson. "Been up for long, Taril?"

"Long enough." Taril eyed the Captain with some distaste. "Have you?"

"Have you, _Captain_." The man turned to glare at Taril. "You _will_ respect my position within this Hold."

Taril inclined his head as if in apology. "_Captain_, then." It was far too easy to tweak the Captain's ego. The knots on his shoulder had gone to his head long ago, and the guardsman was far too inclined to think that he ran the Hold. "What brings you to my doorstep on this fine morning?"

"You're up early. We already stopped at your apartment and spoke with your little wife." The Captain's expression had returned to his usual self-satisfied smirk, even as Taril felt a hot flash of anger. "Such a nice little bit for your bed, and such a shame that our Headwoman married her to you."

Hopefully that was a lie and the Captain hadn't actually woken Humari-- or his son. His wife shouldn't have to be bothered by scum like the two in his office. A retort was on the tip of his tongue, but Taril merely sat back in his chair and studied the two guardsmen rather than rising to the clumsy bait.

The silence stretched until the Captain began to fidget. He strode forward and put his hands on Taril's desk, leaning forward to loom over the seated man. "Where were you last night?"

"A rhetorical question?" Taril lifted an eyebrow. "You know as well as I do that I was in my warehouse, hosting a fight. I even saw a few of your men there. I was of the impression that guardsmen weren't supposed to gamble."

"And afterward?"

"I went home."

"Did anyone see you?"

Taril shrugged. "Probably. I tend to stick out. It's the only having one leg, you know."

The Captain grinned. "So no one saw you?"

The merchant sighed. "What's this about, then?"

"A man died last night." The Captain leaned forward a little more, close enough that Taril could smell his breath. Dodger hissed. "One of yours-- a man named Sorken."

Taril sat back, surprised. "Sorken left my warehouse on his own two feet."

"Here's what I'm thinking." The Captain rocked back on his heels, looking smug. "Sorken's supposed to throw your little fight, only he wins instead. You get mad, follow him out, and bludgeon him to death with your crutch."

Taril snorted. "Really? While hopping around on one foot? Sorken is-- was a practiced pugilist. Even after getting beat around the head all evening I wouldn't tangle with him, even if I did have two legs for balance."

"So you admit the fight was rigged!" The Captain jabbed a finger at the other guard, who was lurking in the far corner looking bored. "You hear that, Polson?"

Polson shrugged.

The Captain turned back to Taril. "I can arrest you for that, _and_ for Sorken's murder."

"I value my reputation as an honest man of business. I wouldn't rig a fight." Which was true. This particular fight hadn't been rigged at all. "Where was he found?"

"Just behind _your_ warehouse."

As if that were evidence. Taril sighed. "Did he have any marks on him?"

The Captain crossed his arms, sneering. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

"Because I gave him a leather pouch with two marks in it. If he's still got the marks, then maybe he just took one too many blows to the head. Or this might be a robbery gone wrong. Maybe someone lost a lot of marks last night and wanted to get something back. Maybe Airon was mad about the result of their match. Have you spoken to him?" The way the Captain wouldn't meet his eyes meant that he clearly hadn't done his job. Taril shook his head. "Start there. I'll see if anyone lost a lot last night and send you any names by the end of the day."

"I don't need your help," the Captain snarled. "And I _know_ you were involved. Don't think I won't find out."

"Waste your time if you want to, but the tide's turned and there's every chance that whoever killed Sorken is already back out at sea." Taril picked up his quill. "Anything else, _Captain_?"

"We're not through." The Captain gave him a contemptuous look, then stomped out the door with Polson trailing behind.

Taril watched him go, then shrugged and turned his attention to his ledger. Sorken, dead... that was unfortunate. He was a good fighter who could draw a crowd, and dying alone in the dark beneath the stars wasn't any man's dream. Taril felt a twinge of pity. And unfortunately for Sorken, there wasn't much of a chance that his killer would be caught -- if he'd been murdered at all. He might have died because he'd been beaten, but if he had been murdered in anger or cold blood... The guards at Sunstone Seahold weren't exactly renowned for their intellectual prowess, and Sorken would likely end up as just another footnote in a ledger, then forgotten.

Last updated on the December 28th 2016

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A Death