Jonas Kane (Part II)
Jonas stood around impatiently outside the rail station. This faster mode of transport was built a seveeal years ago, just a little past the lake with the Hydra in it. Mostly made for transport of large and heavy materials, occasionally the wealthy would hitch a ride in more lavishly decorated ones. This was the case for Assemblyman Doran Archibald, who was being sent by in-land Kormyre to help institute a wide range of changes to the way business would be conducted. These Kormyrian regulations would cause massive losses for Jonas and other shop owners, and they were already losing money hand over fist from the lack of attention given to the area. Jonas didn’t much like oversight to begin with, and the thought of an outsider coming into his town and messing up his flow of things enraged him. How odd was it then that the rail car was undergoing some problematic issues and the assemblymen would need to stop in the Proper for the night while those problems would be fixed? Jonas pulled out his time piece and just on cue, he heard the railcar pulling closer and smoking a bit more than was normal…
As the smoking rail car stopped, several passengers scrambled to offload themselves in fear of a potential fire. Jonas picked the man out from his description. “Assemblyman Archibald! Is that you?”
The portly man with short cropped back hair and a monocle stared up at him “Hello good sir! I guess my reputation proceeds me, my apologies that I would not know your name.”
“Jonas Kane! Proprietor of the Dragons Claw Inn!” Jonas bowed just a little, and the assemblyman seemed unimpressed. Jonas continued, “From the looks of things, this rail car will need a bit of repair. Why don’t I escort you to the Dragon’s Claw? I have a luxury room I could set you in for the night, and plenty of spirits on tap to keep you warm. I’ll be happy to carry your bags for you!”
“No need my fine man, Brutus will handle my bags; now show us the way to your Inn!” A large, dark and silent man stepped out from the crowed and picked up the Assemblyman’s bags, glaring Jonas’s way.
Jonas’s wide grin weakened a little and through gritted teeth he mustered, “Of course! Right this way…”
* *. *. *. *
While a miscalculation had been made, Jonas knew that he had dealt with far worse, and so all this planning would not go to waste. Jonas crept into the dark bedroom as silent as death. One hand suddenly and forcefully pushed onto the sleeping assemblyman’s mouth, almost as if he was trying to push his face backwards through his pillow. At the same time, a bone dagger slid into his neck with great speed, then out and quickly into his chest then out and quickly into his side. By the time the assemblyman could even begin to flail his arms, they went limp from blood loss and organ failure. When he was certain no sound could come forth, Jonas removed his hand from the Assemblyman’s mouth.
Jonas glanced over at Brutus under the covers of his bed on the other side of the room, and crept over while wiping the blood from his dagger onto the underside of his coat. He suddenly felt as if something was off and decided not to advance any further; instead he flipped his dagger in his hand and hurdled it with deadly speed and accuracy into the sleeping figures head. The dagger found its mark and buried deep into the sheets. No sound? By the time Jonas realized that no one was in the bed, he felt a loud ringing in his ears and the force of impact to his head laid him instantly to the ground. Just as he was starting to shake the stars out of his head he felt a gripping around his throat and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The fingers around his throat cinched tighter and tighter with crushing force. His legs flailed about, stomping chaotically against the floor. His vision was going dark, and it was like the whole of his life was playing out in great speed in his mind. The end of this spiritual vision was his own body being lowered into the ground, in a casket as dirt is being thrown on top. He was dying, or maybe he was already dead… Suddenly the dirt was flying off the casket and the casket lifted out of the ground. The visions disrupted, Jonas felt a spray of warm blood on his face, and suddenly he could breathe again. Gasping hard for the air, he heard a thud and as his vision started to return, he saw the body of his assaulter on the ground motionless with his head bashed in. He felt a large hand grab onto his and pull him up. It was Hardwin and he had heard the scuffle in the room and entered it just in time. “Lets get you to bed boss, you aint lookin so hot”
It's not that Jonas wasn’t grateful, but he was red hot mad and mostly at himself. “Get yourself to bed!” Jonas croaked through his strained throat. “Get Pearl up here to clean this up right now!” Jonas stumbled into the hall and down the stairs to the bar room. He grabbed a bottle of whisky and headed to the main hall, where he sat himself down in his spot.
* *. *. *
There was still a few patrons coming and going late into the night. Jonas sat staring at the side double doors. In his mind undead clawed at the glass, wolves howled and grotesque fantastic beasts kicked them in; In reality though none of that happened. Maybe it was time to move on from this place. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why a man with his resources and options was still here, and he was running out of excuses to give himself.
He refocused on his predicament. What happened up there? It was bad enough that his intelligence failed him in thinking the assemblyman would be unaccompanied, but for a man like Brutus to get the drop on him, that was impossible. Had he really been that much out of practice, that his life should have been over that night if not for a halfwit bodyguard he hires to push people around? He played the scenario over and over in his head, and just couldn’t figure it out. He threw back a shot of whisky and finally admitted to himself the truth, he had lost his edge and it’s only going downhill from here…
Kleidin saw the changes in the human empire, and became disillusioned.
The civil war - the poisoning by forces of Belial left her unable to have children herself. Eventually, she could not stay in a place that demanded sacrifice, with nothing more than disdain for those that did so.
SHe left Travance, and journeyed to the home of her mother, to the valley where the Glamour Grove stood linked to the Malloran tree in Selendria.
There she made her home. She spent many days at a time conversing with the trees. Onlt leaving when she sensed things that set of her witchhunter gifts. She would deal with them, and go back to the trees