I Have a Task Log

The group hurried back to the tavern and went up to their room on the second floor.

The room, much like the surrounding buildings, was pieced together from dilapidated wooden planks. Inside were six beds and a table with chairs, and the air was thick with a damp chill.

Ale and Orelia were sitting at the table, reading a small book together.

As the others entered, the Tiefling was covering her mouth with a hand, stifling a giggle.

Orelia said with a laugh, "Mr. Colin, you’re back."

"Find anything?" Ale asked, closing her book.

"Anything about Ora Kaim? No, but I did find something interesting." Colin placed the ragged cloth from his hand onto the table. "Can you clean this for me?"

Ale recited a Spell, using [Magic Tricks] to clean the black cloth on the table.

A gray Spiritual Light, characteristic of Transmutation Magic, flared across the surface of the black cloth.

When the Spiritual Light faded, the change to the cloth’s surface was minuscule, almost imperceptible.

"Is this cloth special in some way?" Ale asked, puzzled.

"What could be special about it? It’s just a mat he bought from a street stall!" Dorn said, crossing his arms. "I think the human boy’s gone mad. I sure as hell can’t see what’s so great about this rag, and he even spent ten Gold Coins on it."

"You’ll find out soon enough," Colin said.

"I don’t think there was much dust on it. A cloth that’s been on the ground usually isn’t this clean," Ale offered, awkwardly trying to defend him.

But even as she said it, it was clear she didn’t think it was particularly useful either.

Colin didn’t bother explaining further.

He changed the subject. "Let’s just eat in the room to avoid any trouble. Tell me what you want, and we’ll bring it up with ours."

"Put in an order for me too, Mr. Colin," Orelia said. "Those shipworms you had last time looked good. I’d like to try them."

"I’ll have that too."

Colin agreed, set down his Cloak, and headed downstairs with Dorn and the others.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Colin saw the scene in the main hall below and stopped, his brow furrowed.

The two behind him stopped in unspoken agreement.

A group of customers stood before the counter—about fifteen figures at a rough count.

They were draped in black Cloaks, their hoods adorned with silver, web-like embroidery.

Their faces were completely hidden in shadow, but strands of silver hair—identical to the owner’s—spilled out from the sides of their hoods.

’Trouble.’

’These look like native Drow, the kind who live underground,’ Colin thought. ’They’re not going to be as reasonable as the owner here.’

Just then, the Drow Boss hurried out from the back kitchen.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Colin’s group on the landing, then lowered his head to the customers at the counter. "My deepest apologies, honored guests."

"Male, you’re late."

The Drow at the front spoke as she threw back her hood, revealing the sharp, imperious face of a woman. The sheer force of her presence was so overwhelming it eclipsed her natural beauty.

At her words, the already quiet tavern fell completely silent.

Several patrons tossed coins onto their tables and promptly left. Only a few remained, watching silently to see how things would unfold.

"I am deeply sorry, esteemed lady."

As the Drow Boss spoke, bowing low, he moved a hand behind his back and made a gesture at Colin, signaling them not to make any sudden moves.

The female Drow sneered. "Kneel and speak to me."

"My deepest apologies, noble lady. I beg your mercy..." The Drow Boss’s bow deepened.

Colin clenched his fists, his eyes flicking to the skull hanging in the center of the tavern.

’But he knew the Drow Boss was right. Stepping in now would only cause more trouble for him... It was best to let the owner handle this.’

"Kneel," the female Drow repeated, her voice sharp.

She put her right hand on her hip and lifted a corner of her Cloak, revealing a whip hanging at her side.

The whip had a matte, dark-silver finish, its handle carved with sharp spider legs. The lash itself was comprised of three scaly, venomous snakes.

The snakes were coiled silently around the Drow’s thigh, which was clad in Leather Armor.

When the Cloak was drawn back, they instantly opened their dark-red eyes. The black vipers stirred, heads rising and red tongues flicking.

The threat was obvious.

Colin’s hand went to [Burning Blood] at his hip.

The last few patrons in the tavern quietly slipped out, leaving the main hall empty save for those at the center of the confrontation.

A damp cold seeped up through the dilapidated floorboards, and the only sound was the faint, ghostly shuffle of footsteps outside.

The vipers writhed before the Drow Boss’s face.

Colin could even see a bead of sweat trickle down the owner’s cheek.

He studied the Drows’ Cloaks and their revealed Snake Whip, committing every detail to memory.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a slightly shorter figure stepped out from the middle of the Drow group.

The figure raised a hand slightly. The aggressive female Drow immediately backed down, pulling her hood back up and retreating silently into the group.

"Male, I smell a Half-Elf." The figure turned toward the staircase, and a woman’s voice issued from beneath the hood. "How much for your Half-Elf? I can offer two hundred fifty Gold Coins. That’s the highest price in Mist Harbor."

At those words, Colin heard the faint sound of his companions gripping their weapons behind him.

’They might joke around with each other, but when it came down to it, no one in his party would ever back down.’

Colin’s own hand tightened on his sword hilt.

He replied coolly, "Sorry. She’s priceless."

"Is that so?" the lead Drow replied.

She glanced back again, her eyes lingering on the skull hanging in the tavern’s main hall.

"What a pity."

With that, the female Drow turned and walked out of the tavern. The other Cloaked Men quickly fell in behind her.

Colin breathed a sigh of relief.

The dangerous atmosphere vanished in an instant.

The Drow Boss wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He walked over with a nervous smile. "That was far too close... Everyone, were you looking to get some dinner?"

"What will they do next?" Colin asked.

"Them?" The Drow Boss glanced back at the tavern door. "They probably... won’t do anything."

"That bunch obviously bought up all the Elves in the slave market. Now they’re using Magic or something else to track down any Surface Elves in the area. If they decide to make a move, we won’t be able to escape."

Colin pressed on. "Do you know anything about Drow tactics? I’m not saying anything is going to happen, of course. But even if they don’t make a move, it’s good knowledge to have."