This Better Be Good

Dominic’s left hand took the silver coins and dropped them in his leather purse. Simultaneously the stump of his right arm pushed a map toward the giver of the coins, a huge man that even without his armor and weapons had the look of warrior written on his stance.

“This better be good,” said the warrior, staring at the red X that Dominic swore marked vast treasures.

“I can only imagine your vengeance against your enemies, but I’ve been waiting for a group as strong as yours”, Dominic’s stump swept an arc that included the warrior’s companions arranged behind him, “to avenge my friends. And if you find my hand... could you return it?”

The warrior finished his drink and rolled up the map, staring at the remnants of the man across from him. No right hand or leg, patch over his right eye and terrible scars on the right side of his face. The silver at least paid for a good story. He turned and left the bar with his companions.

Dominic took his time finishing his tea. After looking around the room he slowly got up from the chair using a crutch. His missing right leg swung out from beneath his robe as he made his way out the back door. Resting against a wall in the alley he let his foot regain circulation. Alone in the alley he took off his wig, eye patch and wiped the “scars” off his face with his right hand, miraculously appearing from under the bandages.

After keeping to the shadows of the city at night, Dominic arrived at a door and entered after making sure he was alone. The room was lit with a candle, a boy at a table looking up at the interruption.

“Son, we need more maps.”