K is for Kevin

I’ve learned to expect change, working in a tavern, although there are usually cycles to that change. Busy and quiet, times when crowds of people throng The Tipsy Hedgehog and I’m run off my feet. Quiet times was when Rhodry would slip in with a little leather journal, scribble down his thoughts while drinking an ale he barely touched. He always carried something he would write on. Sometimes it was a piece of parchment which the words would vanish into. It made me wonder what he was hiding from that Serpent-Born sorcerer he lived with, although Rhodry is Serpent-Born, too. He seems so pretty, yet otherworldly, so sensitive, yet shy. I’ve been working up the courage to talk to him. I’ve managed a few words. I usually end up watching a golden curl fall over his forehead, watch it gleam in the light. Guess he makes me shy, too. I’ve gotten a lot shyer since he started coming to The Hedgehog with company. There’s this lean, dark-skinned foreign girl who looks like she could kick some serious booty. There’s also this acolyte from the Unicorn temple, one of the Points of Unicorn Herself. I never expected to see someone like her here. It makes my knees knock together just having her inside the tavern. I worry she’s going to start preaching about the evils of drink and scare the customers away. She’s behaved herself thus far, so I allow my knees to knock. Last there’s this pale youth in dark blue robes, very pretty fellow, except something about him sends chills up my spine. He always leans close to Rhodry, plus he seems to notice whenever I’m watching Rhodry. He meets my eyes from time to time, to give me a little-half smile, as if saying, “Yes, I know Rhodry looks delicious but don’t presume.” Creepy, creepy chap. Why Rhodry is spending so much time with him, why he’s spending time with any of them, I don’t know. It’s just one more mystery amidst a lot of mysteries haunting Caerac Keep right now. I should be glad of the custom for The Hedgehog is seldom crowded these days. The mobs we once had at lunch and the early evening, the folks who came in wanting a little ale, a little wine, a little food, or simply to gawk at Aggie (that’s the owner of The Hedgehog) are gone. Yes, Aggie is worth gawking at. Not only is she shorter than most folks, she doesn’t even bother to hide that she’s a former adventurer. Her sword hangs over the bar. Politer folk want to ask what that was like, while others demand how she can live with herself after slaughtering so many nonhumans and taking their treasure. Aggie lets none of that bother her. She’ll tell anyone who asks what it was like, traveling with Caerac, Gwyneth, and the Vampire Corwyth himself before he turned into a vampire. Yes, she adventured with all of them, according to her. I’m not sure how much I believe. She’s vague about some details in her tales, particularly the fates of her companions. Still there’s no question Aggie can still use the sword over the bar. I’ve seen her do it. Having such a tough boss can be, well, tough, but right now it’s a relief, what with all the Trouble at Caerac Keep. Walking around at night used to be safe. Now folks are disappearing at night. I sometimes hear strange sounds outside my window. Makes me uneasy. Makes me want to stick close to Aggie, crowds, or anyone else who’s around. Not that they’d be much help with the other trouble, the mysterious illness that has people lying around, unable to move. No one knows what’s causing it, whether it’s a regular illness or some sort of spell. It has many of The Hedgehog’s patrons too scared to patronize. I’m scared, too, plenty scared. I’m no warrior, cleric, or sorcerer, no one who can deal with this mess. All I can do is smile and keep pouring the drinks, offering what comfort I can. Hopefully it’s enough.