Corrben flexed his hand, that was one thing he did not miss when he was in the field with Grimbriar, the bloody paperwork. He was filling out an arrest form for yet another petty thief, this time a lad of about thirteen who had stolen boots that were being repaired at the cobbler. How desperate did one have to be to steal broken boots? The nib of the quill scratched against the parchment, the boy only offered a first name and likely did not have a surname. He blew on the ink to let it dry, handing the sheet to Dawn Appledore to file. He peered through to the cell the skinny kid was locked in, the boy was curled on the bench fast asleep. A sure sign of guilt, he knew and likely a bit of a relief to sleep in a sturdy shelter without having to keep one eye open for predators of the two legged variety.
"Fenflower," a voice called out to him and Corrben turned away from the cell. He spotted another watcher, one of the town patrol with the distinctive hauberk and spear. "I've got a bit of news for you."
"What's it this time, Thornroot? I swear if you bring in another apple theft..."
"Nah, not this time. It's about your sister and the sellsword I saw with his tongue down her throat," the man flashed a gap toothed grin at the younger Watcher. "Oh, that a surprise eh?"
"Which sister?" Corrben asked quietly.
"The little 'un, Piperel," Thornroot sniffed, disappointed with the reaction. "She looked like she was ready to have him, too."
Corrben looked up slowly, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly. "And what did you do?"
"I run him off, told her to behave herself like a good girl and not go about sullying her family name," the man puffed his chest out, "Sure that'll be worth a bit do you. Maybe getting me off the Alley patrol."
Clearing his throat, Corrben moved to buckle on his sword belt and pick up his spear, his leather armor creaking slightly, "It does, thank you, Watcher Thornroot. It's not up to me but I'll put in a word. I appreciate it and I'd also appreciate you keeping that to yourself. And one more thing."
"Aye?" Thornroot asked, raising his bushy red eyebrows.
"What did this sellsword look like?"
Thornroot watched the young man arm himself and tongued the gap in his front teeth, "Well, you know the type. Long hair, flashy sword, the type that a young girl would fall for. I know his name though."
Breathing sharply through his nose with an annoyed huff, Corrben walked up to him, closing the space between them, "Then tell me what it is and quit jerking around."
"Gorlen. Another foreigner. Runs with them Bloody Dawn bastards. You heard of them yet?"
"I've heard enough since coming back to town," Corrben replied, his dark eyes flashing with anger. "Where does this Gorlen like to spend his time?"
"Prancing Pony," Thornroot replied, spitting to the side.
"Of course he does."
Corrben strode out of the jail, passing through the gateway with a terse nod to the guards there and made his way up the hill towards the tavern.
