MT Part 5 (VG)
Morgan winced, "Are you sure he's in there?"
Another scream followed by laughter rang out from inside the tavern.
"Very sure," Zanadar said.
Morgan opened the large wooden door and was blasted by a rush of warm air. It reeked of watery ale and sweat. He made a face and stepped inside, Zanadar right behind him.
The tavern was dimly lit and packed tightly with patrons. The stained wooden floor creaked unpleasantly as the two men made their way into the crowd. Rickety old tables were scattered about the floor in no particular order. Men sat in chairs around some, and stood around others while talking loudly amongst themselves, pausing occasionally to shout for more ale.
An angry looking barmaid was doing her best to negotiate through the crowd towards the far end of the tavern. Her dark shoulder length hair stood nearly on end, sticking out in all directions. She had a decidedly murderous look about her.
The barmaid pointed to a skinny old man who sat grinning fiendishly in the corner and shrieked again violently. "Stop it you demented old rat! Stop it right now!" She snatched a tankard off a table and hurled it in his direction.
The old man ducked as it smashed against the wall and raised his bony hands innocently. "Crazy woman!" he shouted back indignantly. The crowd around them roared again in laughter.
The barmaid made a quick grab for another tankard, but Zanadar was faster. "Sascha!" he said pleasantly, "So nice to see you again. You're looking positively radiant, as always."
Sascha spun to face him, a threatening look in her eye. "Make him stop," she demanded.
"Stop what?"
"You know what!"
"No really, what's going on?" Zanadar said with a feigned innocence.
"This!" she grabbed at her hair, "This is what's going on!"
"Oh that? Nonsense, I think your hair looks lovely. It's very becoming," he nodded assuredly.
Sascha stared at him a moment and growled angrily. "Don't even start with me Zanadar, you're just as bad as him." She looked back to the old man in the corner, "You have to the count of three to stop it or I am going to tear you to pieces. Do you hear me?"
"No!" the old man shouted back, shaking his fist.
Sascha glared angrily at him and began to count, "...One...Two..."
"You don't scare me!"
Sascha opened her mouth to say three, but suddenly her hair began falling back to its normal position, settling comfortably. She shot the old man a dangerous look and stomped off to the kitchen. Morgan followed Zanadar over to where the old man sat.
"Enjoying yourself?" the big man asked.
The wiry old man grumbled irately, "What kind of world do we live in when a man can't even sit down to enjoy a cup of brew without having to dodge flying crockery!"
Zanadar nodded solemnly, "It's a sad reflection of our times."
The old man's eyes widened as he felt the tip of his hat. "She got my hat wet!" he complained. He removed the pointed cloth cap from his head; its end tipped slightly backwards and was splotched with wetness.
"Morgan," Zanadar said and gestured towards the elderly man at the table, "This is Elandar."
Elandar looked at Zanadar expectantly as he dried the tip of his hat on his robes, as if waiting for something.
"Forget it," Zanadar said, "I'm not saying it. I told you last time was it, no more."
Morgan blinked, confused, "Say what?"
Elandar cleared his throat deeply, "Mighty Wizard! Elandar, Mighty Wizard!"
Zanadar shook his head and sat down, "Mighty indeed. Have a seat Morgan."
Elandar tugged at his long white beard, eyeing the ranger suspiciously. "So you're the pup we have to watch after?"
"Oh I'm sure he's quite capable, try not to offend him until after we eat at least," the big man interjected.
Morgan looked at the old man. Elandar was taller than him, but still not nearly as large as Zanadar. His wiry frame was hidden from view under thick dark purple robes which Morgan got the feeling also concealed a goodly amount of other things he'd rather not know about. His long white unkempt hair rolled off his head in seemingly random directions and landed in a tangled mess just past shoulders. The old man's beard was in an equal state of disarray. Leaning against the wall behind him was a worn wooden staff which looked to be older than Elandar himself.
The ranger spoke up, "Speaking of eating..."
"I think it may be a while before Sascha is ready to come back over here," Zanadar said, "Why don't I just go let her know we're ready myself so she doesn't have to?"
"An excellent question, what is keeping you?" Elandar asked.
The big man stood up, "I'll be right back." He looked to the wizard, "Elandar, be nice."
The old man waggled his finger wildly at Zanadar, "I'm no child! I'll not be ordered around by some sword swinging meathead!"
Zanadar rolled his eyes and wandered off to find Sascha. Elandar put his hat back on his head and stared at Morgan, narrowing his eyes.
"So..." Morgan said, a bit uneasily, "...that's a nice staff."
"Don't you be getting any bright ideas, nobody touches Elandar's staff but Elandar! It's very powerful and very-"
"Mighty?" Morgan grinned.
Elandar folded his arms across his chest and frowned. Morgan leaned back in his chair and scanned the crowd for Zanadar, who was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, and set his chair back down on its legs again. He absently tapped his fingers along the top of the table, trying to avoid eye contact. Morgan glanced up; the old man was staring at him coldly.
"All right, I'm sorry," Morgan said finally, "I take it back, your staff isn't mighty."
Elandar's frown deepened and his stare intensified. For a moment, Morgan was positive the old man was going to start shaking and explode.
"You and Zanadar are friends then?" the ranger asked. Elandar stared back stone like, unblinking. He coughed anxiously and looked around again.
"There's a roasted boar on the spit this afternoon," Zanadar reported finally, coming up behind them. He was carrying three large cups of a dark groggy ale. He set them on the table and looked to Elandar. "Sascha said she's going to bring some out for us and that if you try any funny business she's going to stab you with a meat hook."
The old man broke his stare and took on a contemplative look. "Fair enough," he decided, "I'm hungry enough to risk it."
"That's comforting," Zanadar said as he sat back down. He grinned "So, are you two old friends yet?".
"I didn't say a single mean thing." Elandar boasted. The big man raised an eyebrow at Morgan.
"Well, technically that's true," he said.
"Well then," Zanadar said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, "I'd say this is going very well!"
A thought suddenly occurred to Morgan. "Does Minister Adlus know Elandar is accompanying us?"
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