Chapter 3 - the Wounds of a dead Man
Tarn rolled over and saw the rst light of dawn lterthrough the window in his room.
up and stretched, shaking the cobwebs out of his foggyhead with a ourish.
Time to set out on this foolish quest.
He pulled on his clothes —leather riding pants and ane cloth shirt, as well as the stout military issue bootshe still preferred —and gathered his gear into his pack ashe headed downstairs. The inn was bustling even at thisearly morning hour. Several people were scattered aboutthe common room eating breakfast, and the conversation was already quite loud. The room was small, however, andbefore long Tarn spotted Logan sitting at a table in thecorner attacking a plate of eggs and bacon with gusto. Tarncrossed the room and sat down across from him.Logan looked up, and between mouthfuls said, “It reallyis a crime what they charge for a good meal around herethese days. Back west what I paid for this would have fedme for a week. I gure that where we’re going, though,I won’t be eating good for a while, so I’ll splurge.” Loganpicked up a stein full of something noxious smelling,drinking deeply before Tarn realized it was only coffee.
, he thought.
Tastes like year old water from an unwashed canteen.
To each his own.
He ordered his breakfast from the serving girl and sat, watching the cleric put away his breakfast with gusto.
Well,he eats like a dwarf
, Tarn thought, smiling softly. The pairdidn’t say much —Logan was simply too busy eating. Then,right about the time his own food came, he spotted Nylacoming down the stairs.He gave her a quick appraisal as she came down. He