It Begins With A Map... (Medieval RP)

Before they left, Glenn folded the map up again, this time slipping it into his shirt pocket and carried the basket of vegetables that Dotta had given to Fleta.

As the pair drew near the Fountain Inn, Glenn headed for the common room of the Inn since there was little he could do to help Fleta search for the journal and it seemed Fleta didn't want him around when she met up with Kenrick.

Kenrick was leaning up against the open double doors of the nearby stables, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the girl. He perked up as he caught site of her, grinning from ear to ear. "Fleta! I was starting to think you'd changed your mind!"


---


The innkeeper came forward and took the offered parchment, glancing at it quickly before returning it to Unwin. It looked legitimate but he purposefully did not look very close since this situation suddenly seemed it may become profitable for him as well. "Ah, well, seems in order. Of course, a small fee to cover the inconvenience would not be unappreciated."
 
"You men are unbelieveable!" Jem's voice held a combination of disgust and horror as it seemed like all three of them were happy to take a payment in return for silence regarding the crime which was obviously being committed. "We paid good money for our room." She argued the injustice with the innkeeper. "We are guests of this inn, and therefore you are ultimately responsible for ensuring our comfort and above all--safety! Surely you will not stoop as low as these men! The authorities are on your side, and I demand that you involve them!" Her hot and expectant glare stared straight at the proprietor.

She realized that her chances of outmuscling Unwin to free her brother were slim, so her only chance was to convince him to help them. Even if it was only calling for aid from the authorities. To anyone else who entered the inn it probably would have looked rather confusing, as a young woman in her nightgown and barefeet was calling out three older men, one of which looked like he was carrying a dead body.
 
Before they left, Glenn folded the map up again, this time slipping it into his shirt pocket and carried the basket of vegetables that Dotta had given to Fleta. 

As the pair drew near the Fountain Inn, Glenn headed for the common room of the Inn since there was little he could do to help Fleta search for the journal and it seemed Fleta didn't want him around when she met up with Kenrick.  

Kenrick was leaning up against the open double doors of the nearby stables, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the girl.   He perked up as he caught site of her, grinning from ear to ear.  "Fleta!  I was starting to think you'd changed your mind!"



"No, I haven't Kenrick." Fleta replied as she approached the stables, trying to sound cheerful, but sounding more like she wished she had changed her mind. Fleta reached Kenrick and gave him a half smile, she had never been around him for that long, and never been along with him, Peyton seemed to always be nearby and that seemed to keep Kenrick from doing anything too vile...
 
"Well, come on in," Kenrick said, pointing to Oswin's wagon parked inside the stables. "I can't imagine Mr. Blackwood getting too bent outta shape over you just looking," he said, referring to Oswin, then he winked at Fleta, "...still probably better if he doesn't know though."

Kenrick made no move to touch Fleta, at least not yet. Inside the barn, Peyton was reclined against a bale of straw not far from the wagon. His chin was dropped down to his chest, eyes closed and seemed to be fast asleep. "Whatcha looking for anyway?" Kenrick asked, keeping his voice low to avoid waking his brother.


--


"Ah.. well... his paperwork seems to be in order," the innkeeper said, glancing away from Jem's stare. "You'll have to take up the matter with ...uh... this gentleman's patron."

Unaware of what was happening inside, Glenn stepped onto the porch of the Fountain Inn, his boots clunking loudly against the wooden boards and announcing his arrival. He could hear some voices inside and was glad that there still seemed to be people awake at this hour, so didn't hesitate to throw open the door and step inside. But he immediately paused as the confusing scene inside met his eyes. The large youth's eyes opened wide as he caught site of the heavy-set man who now owned the books and then the man carrying the body of another man over his shoulder and the disheveled woman in a nightgown. "Ah..." Glenn said, hesitating while he tried to figure out what in the world was going on...
 
"There was a, um... Journal, that looked like an interesting read..." Fleta replied softly, knowing that if she told him a complete lie, he would spot it. She scowled at Peyton, sleeping on the straw, if she had a list of all the people she hated, he would be a close second only to Kenrick. Fleta moved over towards the wagon, wondering why Kenrick had not tried anything yet, Most likely just waiting for me to let me guard down... Fleta thought.


---


Unwin continued ignoring Jem, but looked up quickly when he heard the foot steps on the porch, then growled as the door opened. Seeing the young man standing there, he began to regret taking this job, it was the worst he had ever done, so messy... With his injured arm, he slowly reached for his sword, placing his hand on the hilt, Christof 's body still draped over the other shoulder...
 
The arrival of Glenn caught Jem's attention but only briefly as she was much more concerned with her brother and the other three men in the room. "So if I got a paper signed saying that I had some creeps permission to pick your brain out through your nose with a pair of tweezers, you would be okay with that?" Her voice was dripping in sarcasm but she looked like she would almost be willing to do exactly that to him at this point. She whipped her head around to face Unwin again. "Look, I don't know what anyone's told you, but we have nothing to give you. Look at us, do we look like we're walking treasure maps?"

(No pun intended lol)
 
Unwin brought his attention back to the girl, laughing at her comment about pick out brains, when she finest, he speak calmly to her, "Jem, I am a bounty hunter, I do not know why the men who hired me, want you and your brother, and I do not want to know. I do my job, that's all..." He narrowed his eyes, he truly didn't want to know about the people he catch, or killed...
 
Kenrick followed Fleta to the wagon, standing close to her, perhaps a bit closer than was comfortable. But still he refrained from touching her, instead looking over the edge of the wagon at the books. "A journal?" he raised his eyebrows, skeptical of her answer. "Come on, there's gotta be something more interesting than that to come sneaking in here in the middle of the night. Unless you really were just hoping for a little bit of alone time with me," he said in a teasing tone.


--


Jem's comment about walking treasure maps caught the attention of both Oswin and Glenn. Oswin suddenly remembered the way Jem had carefully looked over the books earlier in the evening when they had passed his wagon and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Glenn, still struggling to figure out what was going on and never a good one for keeping his thoughts private, burst out, "You mean old Calhoun's treasure map?"
 
"What?" Jem looked around and stared quizzedly at Glenn, the random outburst distracted her enough that she didn't reply right away to Unwin. As if Chris or herself were in desperate need of more treasure, that's what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. "I'm sorry," the heavyset youth looked a little bit confused, and his innocent face made her lower her voice when she spoke to him. "I don't know what your talking about... what's your name again?"
 
Unwin groaned, in different circumstances, he would have just killed Oswin and the innkeeper, caught Jem, and left long before anyone found the bodies. But now, with the young man standing at the door, it would be almost impossible to kill all three man without the young one getting away.

Unwin pushed past Oswin to an arm chair, flopping Christof's still unconscious body into it, knowing that with both hands free, he could easily lodge a throwing knife in the youths head from this distance, before he even knew what had it him, if need be...


---


Fleta looked back at Kenrick to answer, and noticed how close he was, "Yes, a journal, it is..." She posed, biting her lip, not wanting to tell him about the map, but she had to tell him something, "It is made up of the stories that old Calhoun's spoke of, I thought, my little brothers would like it..." She finished, it wasn't a very convincing answer, so she added quickly in a sweeter tone, "and, I did want to see you, Kenrick." Being that he didn't know how much Fleta hated him, she hoped this answer would suffice.
 
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