Vladan took in the whole room the instant he walked in, and the room didn’t even make a casual glance his way. Stepping past the orruk bouncer, and into Grimnir’s Head, Vladan made his way to the bar. He signaled for some water, and although the duardin behind the bar gave him a suspicious glace, a half-minute later he sat in the corner (where we could see the whole room), with the first cup of water he had had in, well, even he didn’t know.
As he eyed the room, Vladan noticed that it wasn’t just duardin and men there, other creatures sat around, drinking or playing at dice. Even a couple of aelves sat in the corner opposite his, sitting alone, but still in good spirits and not unwelcoming. He, on the hand, wrapped the darkness of the corner around him. A couple times the odd drunken fool would stumble his way seeing the free chair opposite his, but it only took a look at Vladan, into his eyes, and they seemed to get distracted and find another chair somewhere else. After the water he managed a thick ale from the tap behind the bar, the waitress, a stout round woman, bringing it to him in a huge mug. It was terrible, and sent fire down his throat.
It had been hours, and Vladan was about to order a room for the night, when he finally caught word of what he’d been listening for.
‘Aye I tell you, them Sands aren’t so scary, I cross em all the time!’ a duardin in a metal suit was saying to a couple of men.
‘Trollog shit duardin, I know for a fact your skyfleet has banned all ships from flying above the Sands, don’t give me your tall tales, you’re too short for it!’ the man replied, laughing and elbowing his friend. The duardin was not impressed, and stood up, holding a fist out under the mans nose.
‘Say that again little manling, I dare ye!’
‘Good evening, gentlemen’ Vladan said, stepping up to the altercation and giving a sweeping bow, ‘I could not help but overhear you mention “the Sands”, I don’t suppose you happen to be talking of the Moaning Sands now, are you?’
‘Good evenin’!?’ the man howled back at him, doubling over in laughter, ‘good evenin’?! Now who the bluddy hell do you think you are, some Lord or somefin’!?’
The two men almost crashed to the ground in drunken laughter. Until, that is, a knife pricked each of their throats. The whole inn suddenly grew very quite bar the sound of weapons being drawn.
‘Eh, what in Mork’s name is goin’ on ‘ere!!?’ the bouncer shouted, walking towards the two white-eyed men. ‘No fighten’ right? Or I chuck the lot of you out!’
‘Oh, we’re not fighting…’ the one man said, ‘ actually, we were just leaving see…. lots to do, should probably get back to the missus anyway….’ and just like that, the two were gone, bouncing off the orruk, and crashing through the door as fast as they could stumble.
His disappearing knives acted like a switch, and the room continued its usual activities a moment later, as if nothing had happened.
‘Now, tell me sir,’ he said, seating himself next to the little duardin shipmate, ‘tell me about these Moaning Sands. And how I may find my way there….’