The Book Club - Kirhan Darkfinger & Menace - Downtime Writeu

The Three-Headed Ettin. A perfectly common establishment in many ways, built of solid brick and wood, offering affordable room and board to weary travelers in Daring Heights. But in many ways, this humble establishment is the very center of Kantas; or rather, the Kantas of adventure, thrill and avarice: It is from here that most adventurers new to the continent set out to make their fortune; and it is here were most of them rest their heads and spend their coin. Coll the innkeep certainly chose well to establish it, when he decided to hang his adventuring cloak on the peg and invest his money.

Today, as every day, the Ettin is bustling with people from all corners of Toril; the sound of music, clinking glasses, and laughter is in the air; and the smell of pipeweed, spilled ale, and stew hangs thick under the rafters of the common room.

In a corner, a dwarf sits by himself, studying a tome of indeterminate origin, a small glass of ruby red wine in front of him; easily overlooked, for what is one (unarmed and unarmored) dwarf in a crowd full of adventurers? But Menace has an eye for detail; And the detail on the cover of the book, bound in blood-red leather, is unmistakable for the trained eye: letters written in Infernal.

He takes his time, preparing his approach, inquiring with Coll the barkeep what the dwarf is drinking, then ordering two glasses in turn. Then, as the dwarf gets up to, one might assume, answer the call of nature, Menace glides over, and claims the nearest seat with a deft pull from a drunken laborer, who, after finding his bottom hits the ground, is left to look around in confusion as to where his seat might have ambled off to. Waiting, with steepled fingers, the glasses and the book sat between the two chairs on a small table, the Tiefling waits for his mark to return. As the dwarf returns he finds a smiling interlocutor in the chair opposite to his own.

“Pardon me good sir for intruding on your private time, but I couldn't help noticing this fascinating book you have here. ‘Ozaron's Strategies of the Blood War’”, he reads out in infernal, “a wondrous tome and quite rare, if I do say so myself! A most propitious find! I fancy myself a lover of rare scriptures and knowledge myself. But how rude of me to not introduce myself first… While I have been called by many a slanderous name in the past, it is just Mace to my friends, and I can already sense, we will be the very best of friends!”

“The name is Kirhan Darkfinger, notary public and proprietor of Darkfinger’s Binder, the most well-stocked bookshop in all of Daring. How nice to meet someone who properly values the written word.” Kirhan eases back into his seat and gives the fresh glass of deep red wine an appreciative glance.

“Oh yes, my treat! Berduskan Dark, I thought you would appreciate its sweetness and… depth.” Menace winks at Kirhan, who nods and takes the glass. “I may even share with you the rare books I have come across in my travels. Would “The History of Baldur’s Gate”, first edition, penned by the city’s very first town clerk, be of interest to you?”

Kirhan is seized by a short cough, partly from the strength of the fortified wine, and partly at the thought of coming within reach of such a rare tome. “Why yes, that would be fascinating! You have this book? May I take a look?”

“I am sure I can show it to you, and if you are interested, I may even sell it to you.” He sits up and takes a swig of the dark wine, inviting the dwarf to do likewise. “Well,” Menace says with his winning smile, “now that we have established our friendship, my dear Kirhan…”, he leans forward as he speaks, his voice shifting almost imperceptibly into a conspiratorial tone, “...there is something I hope a man of your knowledge and wisdom can help me with.”
Menace’s eyes do not blink; deep, unfathomable darkness yawns from them, like the deep tunnels of the Underdark.
“What do you know of Ambar of Kotu?”