“Poet? Playwright? Author?” The man waved his hands in a dismissing manner. “Hardly; at least not any more.” Giles sat at one of the local bars within the city of Lepidstadt reading the over the latest issue of the Daily Lepidstadtian. “Can you believe they have the nerve to write that, of me, Harold, of me! Rubbish!” Along with the copy of the paper, the rogue held a near empty mug of Chelaxian whiskey, his poison of choice.
The bartender, possibly named Harold (the man’s inebriated state left one to wonder), stared at the drunkard while wiping clean a set of ale mugs. “They’ll like the next one better.”
Despite ‘Harold’s’ words of encouragement, Giles knew they were hollow. He knew it himself, he just didn’t want to admit it, but he was done. His first novel, titled A Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing, had received rave reviews and even one critic claimed it to be the defining novel of the last 50 years. Associated with all that success were the distractions: devil weed, streetwalkers and, of course, the whiskey.
Without even having to ask, Harold topped up the nearly empty mug of whiskey. “Maybe you should write about dogs, everyone likes dogs.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Giles drifted back into his own thoughts for the moment. Truth be told, he was out of ideas. The first novel basically took all his life experiences and the drug and alcohol fueled second and third left him to just write about just that, which hardly excited critics. He reached into the inner pocket of his tunic and produced a silvered flask. “I’m going to take this one to go, Harold. In a bit of a rush, you see. I’ll get you next time.” Before the bartender could protest, Giles had emptied the glass into the flask and rushed out of the Inn.
It was rather strange for Giles to be so depressed about his writing, he was after all, a rather accomplished 'obtainer of objects far and wide' or better known to the masses as a thief. He took up writing in the beginning in order to explain the money which funded his 'larger than life' lifestyle but to his surprise he was actually quite good at it.
Most of Giles' work came through an old professor from the University of Lepidstadt, Petros Lorrimor. The professor used to use Giles for collecting object or information he wished to study but he hadn't heard from him in quite some time. As the professor was his only contact to the university, the work dried up after they lost contact so Giles began to concentrate more on his writing.
Truth be told, Giles was near penniless. He needed that book to do well and it bombed. He sat at his desk under candlelight, sipping the stolen whiskey when a letter dropped in through the mail slot. He opened the letter and scanned it over.
Herr De Savorie,
You may not remember me, but I remember you. You were a frequent associate of Professor P. Lorrimor of Lepidstadt University. I was his student and friend. It saddens me to inform you that this esteemed and wonderful man recently passed away. Before he died, as was often his wont, he was off on the scent of some great new discovery, but being very secretive about it. Furthermore, the circumstances of his death remain unclear. Therefore I propose to honor this great man by discovering the subject of his last, unfinished work, and finishing it in his name! For such an endeavor I may require someone of your particular talents, and so I write to inquire as to your availability. I do not possess the sort of resources our dear departed professor did, but I am sure we might come to a suitable arrangement.
In any case, I leave in three days time for the village of Ravengro where he is being put to rest so that I might pay my respects to him and his family, and perhaps lay hands on a journal or some such that may detail his final months and give me insight into what new wonder he was working on. If you wish to join me in this journey please send word to Lepidstadt University before that time.
Regards,
Vaghn der Grafft, esq.
Junior Professor or Arcane, Ethereal, et all
Giles wasn't sure if he remembered this man or not. Clearly he remembered him. At any rate, it was clear that staying in Lepidstadt much longer may not be the best idea with his mounting bar tab. This man sounded like he was going to pay and if not him then maybe one of the professor's associates would remember him. Next stop, Ravengro...
