Morning arrived, and Jéne was prepared to face the day just as soon as he had had his breakfast. The meal was sent up to his room and it was complemented, strangely, by an origami piece in the shape of a dragon. Jéne pondered the possibilities that this was a letter, decided it was so, and went ahead unfolding the beautiful design.
He found out that it wasn’t a letter at all, but rather a map leading to some kind of ‘X’, as if a cross represents where treasure is buried. There was no indication who sent the map, no name, signature, or sign that gave away the sender.
It was a mystery beyond comprehension, one that could be filed into the back of his mind for the time being. Presently there were more pressing issues.
Yesterday’s party of adventurers returned from their trip to New Alara sometime around noon. Even though not all were happy with their bounty, they were relieved to have a warm hearty meal to look forward to and a proper bed to sleep in. The Peddler welcomed them back and had Zarin the Performer and his band provide some musical distraction in the dining hall. As for Jéne himself, he needed to consult someone.
The bartender was at his usual place, serving drinks and snacks from behind that marvellous and elegant bar, one that stretched the metre to the limit. By the time Jéne was seated at the counter, the bartender was done mixing his favourite drink.
The map was passed from one person to the other and the bartender took time to scrutinise the durable paper.
When he received no answer, Jéne the Peddler said, “So, what do you think?”
The man behind the counter gave a thin smile and handed the paper back to the owner. “I think you’re in love.”
Jéne’s eye lit up and for a moment he was lost in the throes of laughter. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, he said, “What in God’s name is that suppose to mean?”
The bartender slid a bow of munchies down the countertop over to his female co-worker. After that he said, “Did you ask the chefs who put the dragon onto your breakfast tray?”
“An errand boy. I found him and asked him about it. He said that someone in a cloak made the request. He never got a good look at the man. Couldn’t tell who it was.”
“Who do you know walks around in a cloak?”
“Only the Magus but… no!”
The bartender poured a drink for another patron.
“It can’t be!” Jéne exclaimed under his breath. “It’s impossible!”
“Don’t you think you’re missing a very important detail?” the bartender said when he returned his attention to the Peddler.
“And what would that be?” Jéne asked half-heartedly.
The bowl of munchies slid down the countertop one more time and the male bartender caught it. It was empty save a folded note. The bartender lifted it with a gloved hand and handed it to the Peddler before disposing of the bowl. Jéne E., dumbstruck, read it.
And when he was done, he turned to his left. There sat a figure in a cloak that covered any recognisable features of the man’s appearance. The figure nodded in his direction.
Jéne E. got up and excused himself from the company of the bartender. When he reached the man, he offered greetings and asked for a name. The man produced another folded note and offered it to the proprietor. With that, the hood came down and the face mask fell away to reveal the resplendent features of a woman. Jéne E. turned to the bartender, afraid of the explanation that would follow. The bartender, in his most composed action yet, winked.
On closer inspection, the map was actually a stylised representation of the layout of The Tavern. The starting point was Jéne E.’s accommodation while the ‘X’ was where the woman currently sat in the bar.
She offered him a flower pulled out of thin air, and Jéne E. could not but accept it.
>End of story.
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