Granitt trudged slowly through the darkness. He could feel the filth oozing between his toes and splashing against his sides but it was better than being up there with all those people. Besides, this is what Ug’Thar wanted so this was what Granitt was going to do.
The heavy sack shifted on his back as he stopped at the junction and surveyed the options before him. To the left it seemed the path got narrower, to the right he could see a faint light. Okay, right it was!
A short while further he spotted the door, a gentle light slipping though the cracks. He’d been ordered to bring the sack here and knock four times. Grannit was good with orders, that’s why he’d been chosen.
There was a sound of footsteps, then of something being dragged, finally he could hear heavy locks disengaging. The solid oak door swung back revealing the silhouette of a man against the firelight.
“What do you want?”, the man in the doorway asked gruffly.
“Halfling!”, replied Granitt. His deep voice booming through the tunnels.
“I think you’d better f…”, the man only managed to get half his sentence out before Granitt’s hand was around his throat, squeezing the air from it.
From somewhere in the room came a softer, more peaceful voice, “Rein, don’t upset our guest, he’s here on business.”. Grannit watched as the newcomer stepped into the light. A relatively well dressed gentleman in his mid thirties, a feather sticking from his cap. He was cleaning his fingernails with a dagger as he stepped forward.
Rein landed on his backside clutching his throat and deperately sucking in air, his eyes wide with fear.
As the feathered man approached Grannit dumped the sack at his feet. There was a metallic clanging as the contents hit the floor.
He handed over the parchment which the man studied intently.
“Yes, that’s him! My associates first caught up with him in on the Teufel. They followed him to Altdorf. Apparently he got in trouble up there, something about a murdered noble. I’m told he’s travelling with a group of humans!”.
There was a long silence.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be in touch.”, said the man with the dagger as he slowly closed the door.
Grannit turned around and headed back. He was hungry…
… or was he angry? He never could tell the difference.