Hope's Haven ~ A little taste of Gallia

[Malaclypse 666]

Pops heard a noise which appeared to emanate from a door off to the side of the long ornate bar. He recalled that this door led to the kitchen. No other noises followed, but Pops immediately moved out of the shaft of light which came through the large entrance door. He moved to the wall, and began to sidle cautiously towards the kitchen door, straining his ears for any other telltale clues.

Suddenly, Pops heard more sounds coming from the kitchen. First the sound of a metallic clang coupled with a dull thud, and then a groan, followed by the sound of something quite large hitting the floor. He quickly reached inside his coat for the small needler he carried in a shoulder rig; and began again to inch slowly along the wall.

Before he could move more than a few feet, the kitchen door swung outward into the dining area; and a small, disheveled young woman appeared, clutching a large heavy saucepan in both hands. Pops pointed the needler at the floor, and peered more closely at the frightened woman.

"Merry? Is that you, my child? What is happening?"

"Mr Waverly? Oh My Goddess! I was afraid there was another of those thugs trying to close me in before I could escape into the commons! I was in the kitchen making a sandwich, when I heard someone come in the back way from the Service corridor. He was dressed strangely, and smelled rather bad as well. I stayed in the shadows until he had passed, and noticed that he had a rather large, ugly weapon in his hand. Well, Mr. Waverly, I may be the only poor lass left here at Hope's, but I still feel a responsibility to protect the place. I grabbed this pan, and waited to see what his intentions were. When I saw this lout start to raise his weapon and point it into the dining room, I interceded. I just hope I haven't killed the bloke!"

"Merry, you may have saved my worthless life! Let's go see if our mystery guest is alive or dead. And, If alive, we shall truss him to the dice table. Perhaps we can entice him to tell us why he was preparing to ventilate my hide! Regardless of who he is, and what his intentions are, I doubt he will take kindly to the idea of having his eyeballs used for dice!"

"Oh, Master Waverly, you are a caution! I shall run for some rope while you drag him to the table."

"Call me Pops, my dear, and take your time. It appears that your choice of weapons was wise indeed. This blighter has a knot on his head the size of your wee fist! Bring a pitcher of water back as well, so that we may refresh our friend, and begin an inquiry as to his motives."

"As you wish, Master... eh.. Pops."

"And I shall also be interested, as will my accountants, as to what has happened to Ms. Skyedaughter and Squire Panza, and our little joint enterprise here. Is there any Sapphire left? I could use a drink!"

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