The Cursed Prince

Chapter 1 - Bounty

Chapter 1

A lone tavern surrounded by dense woods sat on the side of a road that was only found by wanderers, sometimes lost travelers. No matter what time of day it was, the sun never managed to reach the inn because of the tight-knit branches above.
Two travelers approached the two-story tavern on foot. The tall, broad-shouldered one who took the lead was dressed in black and gray, mostly leather in layers with a worn duster cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. He was fortified by a long sword on his back, two handguns in holsters on his hips, and various weapons concealed on his body.
His companion, who came just past the other’s shoulder, wore boots, leather pants, and a yarn top open at the chest in a long coat with a hood where his fair locks spread from.
They moved in silence when thunder echoed above them, then the sky opened up and a downpour doused them.
Both were annoyed but never hurried their pace.
Inside was no different from any tavern. The owner took pride in its cleanliness. Since the only light was from candles, no one was sure the place was truly clean, so they just took the owner’s word for it.
The tavern’s door opened as rain, which was now blowing sideways, entered along with the trekkers. The few patrons there took notice only until the door was shut and then returned to their business.
The new arrivals moved to the bar. They never bothered to shake the water from their garments as they stood waiting.
No one approached them and they never said a word, bringing the focus back on them from the few bodies in the room.
The silence inside was deafening. No one spoke or drank. The only sound was the pounding rain outside that rumbled on the roof.
As quickly as the storm came, it went. The drumming rain slowed to a gentle tapping and then vanished.
The attack came quickly from all sides toward the new arrivals. The smaller of the two stepped out of the way as his companion turned his head to catch sight of the advancing horde. Daggers, swords, and clubs were drawn. All four beckoned to strike their target first.
The advancement came to a full stop when the stranger pointed his two side hip weapons at them with his fingers on the triggers and a smile on his face.
”Excuse me,” spoke a low voice.
Everyone glanced around, not dropping their weapon.
“Excuse me,” the voice said again, trying to sound louder.
“The voice is coming from over here,” said the stranger’s companion. “He wishes to be heard so I suggest we all pause our actions to hear him out.”
There was a pause, then slowly they all lowered their weapons and turned to the voice. On the counter stood a small goblin, no bigger than the mug he stood beside.
“Hello!” He waved, wearing only shorts and a smile. “I’m the owner of this bar and there are rules. No guns,” he said as a matter of fact, “is one of them. The others are displayed on the wall behind me.” He pointed without turning away.
They all looked and saw a list of ten rules and, indeed, NO GUNS was at the top.
The laughter came at the stranger’s expense, who turned and looked at the amused crowd.
He glanced at his unfazed companion and shrugged his shoulders, holstering his guns.
More laughter erupted but slowly diminished like the falling rain.
The stranger stood with the same expression he had when they first encountered him. “You all have a bounty on your heads. Do you yield?”
“Nothing in the rules said no sword or club,” sneered one.
“Wrong answer,” said his companion sitting at the bar with the goblin.
Before anyone knew what was happening, a fist connected with a jaw that cracked under its mighty force. Before a sword was wielded, a foot was thrust into a chest, breaking several ribs and sending the surprised victim back to the floor.
Some cunning evading threw his attackers off balance, allowing the stranger to gain the upper hand over all of them. In the end, the stranger was the victor.
His companion took charge to shackle the men, but as he latched the first cuff on the last man’s wrist, the man pulled out a gun, grabbed the companion, and pressed the barrel to his head.
“Now I’m in charge!” he yelled. “Free my men, or he dies!”
The stranger was about to respond when he saw a growing dark shadow looming behind the man.
“You broke the rule!” snarled the voice behind him.
The man turned and eyed the goblin, who nearly reached the ceiling, staring at him. He released his hostage and turned the gun on the goblin, who responded by eating him whole.
Once done, the goblin shrank back to its original size. He walked past the stranger and returned to the bar.
The stranger and his companion dragged the men outside and formed a circle around them in the dirt. His companion removed a card from his pocket and read the incantation in Elvish. The circle glowed, opening a portal the men fell into. Once gone, the stranger and his companion kicked the dirt until the circle was gone.
A few seconds later, three bags of gold were in their place. They gathered their payment and left in the direction they came.
Once out of sight, someone wearing a hooded cloak, with the hood shielding their face, exited the tavern and followed the pair.