Shadow and Memory

Part 1

"And the... monster?" The smaller man asked more. Wulfric grinned, he plainly heard the fear in that man's voice. "After what he did to those men in the tavern, great bloody claws like those, why didn't we just..."

It was the bigger man's turn to look confused, and he shrugged. "I dunno exactly, I guess the captain wants to ask him some questions when he wakes up. Something about that axe he took being special."

Wulfric's ears perked up at the mention of his axe, this captain must have it on him, or else be keeping his weapon close at hand. Perhaps he had already found what a marvelous weapon the axe was and wanted the secrets of its more mystical properties. With almost all magical knowledge kept under the tight control of the mage's guild, many Vadens were greedy for knowledge of magical power, if they thought Wulfric could tell them the secrets of his weapon's enchantment, then of course they would want him alive.

To his frustration, the two men kept talking for some time afterward, though not on any subject that was important to Wulfric in any way. He sat crouched in the dark corridor for a while longer until he finally heard them say their goodbyes and heard one pair of footsteps walking out of the room. Finally, he chanced a peek around the door.

He could see what looked like the better part of a dingy tavern almost. The bar and a few tables, a crackling fireplace giving off heat and light. But it was as if half a barroom had been dumped into a cave. There was no real roof, only an upward slanting cave. To the left and right were natural stone walls, but the far side only had a low stone fence of rough rock and mortar, beyond which was a walkway and then a yawning black void, a cave too large for the meager light to reach the far side. Wulfric's ears flicked down and up in nervous energy, and he wondered how long this place had sat empty down here before these mercenaries moved in.

One of the men still remained, warming his hands by the fire. He smelled like many of the mercenaries did, of dried sweat and old booze. Sometimes Wulfric swore he could smell them from miles further than most other Vadens, who were somewhat more fond of bathing. Silent as a ghost he crept out into the dim tavern, one hand outstretched, the other holding the gleaming dagger, point forward. The mercenary continued to grumble and grouse about nothing in particular, half vocalized curses and muttered complaints.

When Wulfric drew near him, he stiffened slightly. Perhaps he'd heard the approach behind him, perhaps some primeval sense of danger warned him to the presence of a predator behind him. Whatever it was, it came too late. Wulfric's hands flashed forward, covering the man's mouth with one hand while the other pressed the blade to his throat. With a quick yank the startled mercenary vanished backwards out of the firelight.

Wulfric sat in a crouch, having dragged the man down, keeping him from getting his legs under him, the firelight gleaming from the dagger's blade and his captive's wide eyes. "You know who I am." He said, voice a quiet growl. "And you know what I can do. I am going to ask you some questions, and if I like your answers I am going to let you live. If I don't... it's been a while since I've eaten, so one way or another I'll get something useful from you. Do you understand?"

The man nodded quickly, making muffled noises that sounded like agreement.

"I am going to take my hand off your mouth now." Wulfric growled again. "If you scream, it will be the last noise you ever make."

The man didn't scream, but there was a kind of involuntary whimper of fear.

Wulfric nodded. "Good. Now, the young woman I was with, where is she?"

The man took a shaky breath before he spoke. "Near the captain, he wanted to keep an eye on her personally. They're in the main hall, out there, to the left, he has a shack where he lives and keeps her."