He stood over the others in his own way, even when amongst them. He did not tower, he did not threaten, he was simply an other in their midst. Killing a man in the heat of battle was one thing but to stand and kill a man with a single trigger pull, easy as you like, well that was quite another. No one bothers Master Berrain at the Horse and Foot, though he is always referred to as Master Berrain.
Every week he came in and this week was no different. The bulky contraption slung over one of his shoulders was barely recognizable as a crossbow. The complex apparatus looked like it was designed for killing bears but Master Berrain was rarely without it. The staff of the little waystation had rarely seen Master Berrain use the device but those few times were quite enough. So no one bothered him, no one that knew him anyway. He hefted a bundle of quarrels and a much simpler crossbow onto the bar top. The man tending bar nodded and scooted a pouch of coins to him.
The crossbows always fetched a fine price and the quarrels went with them. Master Berrain's weapons were sought after by those few in the area that knew about this sort of thing. He never counted the coins, just jingled the pouch and ordered a beer. It was no secret that his crossbows were marked up considerably when they were sold to off to passing travelers. Another man would have complained about it but Master Berrain merely expected an endless line of credit with the Horse and Foot instead. No one complained.
It was the sort of arrangement that should have been smiles and laughter all around but whenever Master Berrain was in the building, things became a bit tense. He was unpredictable and prone to taking an interest in things he should not. For instance, the unfortunate sod who tried to get too familiar with the serving girl. Rumor has it that the man woke with a throbbing headache and suspended above some very hungry looking wolves. He lived thanks to the intervention of a passing woodsman but the wound in his arm festered and he lost the whole thing. When his friends tried to take revenge, then did not make it back.
So there he sat, idly looking about the room with a quiet eye and drinking watery beer. A man who did not fit anywhere but on the edge of society.
