Legends of Belariath
Joker
Pearly White
Smelly, ugly, useless animals, Joker thought as he dismounted his horse gratefully. He wasn't far from Nanthalion, the town of Charris, a good size town, nobody would think of it as much of anything but a trading post for the south. But those in the know knew better, for Charris was an black market Mecca, shipments of all sorts came through here, mostly contraband or stolen goods. And from the coasts to the south, pearls. Lots of pearls, stolen shipments brought through here to be sold at dirt cheap prices. And that was why Joker was here. That and Jitney Mortier, the jeweler.
Joker walked through the alleys near the inner city, his horse let to roam around, hopefully to meet a glue maker, Joker thought with a grimace. He moved through the crowded streets, dark, filthy side alleys, and scenic walkways, moving to the far end of the town. There it was, an unassuming district of grain warehouses, one just sitting there, nothing conspicuous about it at all. He moved to the door, rapping on it. A slot in the door opened, a pair of large doey eyes looked out, shining in the darkness. "Can I help you?" came the voice from those eyes, soft and quiet, almost a whisper. "I hear you have some fine red rapiers." Joker replied quietly. The eyes blinked, then the slot closed, a clicking of a latch sliding behind the door, and the door opened. Standing behind it was a big guy, an ugly as sin big guy, holding a large spiked club and wearing spiked plate mail armor. "The trapdoor in the back, you know the rules. Break any, and I break your face. Got it?" The soft voice said, odd on such an imposingly ugly guy. Joker nodded, moving past him and too the back. He passed large boxes, hay bales and sacks of grain. In the back there was a trap door, large enough to accommodate an ogre. Joker found it and lifted it, opening what seemed a portal to another world.
The smell of booze, blood, sweat, sex, and money permeated the air of the large room under him. The din of the crowd was uproarious, as loud as the music played by the band in the back. Joker jumped down the stairs with a grin, looking about in approval. The blackjack tables were packed, the serving wenches danced around the patrons, swaying through the crowd most teasingly, some leading patrons into side rooms, where there was little doubt as to what happened then. Not as decadent as the good ol' Inn, but definitely seedier seeming, if for no other reason than the stares Joker received from everybody. Greedy eyes, looking him over like a pig to be caught and cooked, eyeing his pockets, wondering what lay inside them. It didn’t bother Joker as he moved through the crowd. After all, he had been here many times before, and like a friend you could truly count on, it never changed.
Joker moved through the crowd, smiling to familiar faces, ducking out of sight from some faces that were all too familiar, and moving inexorably to the bar. He reached it, smiling to the tender, a little slip of a girl, with a cute smile and a dress that swished as she moved. "Joker! Its been awhile." she said as she took out a bottle of brandy, handing it to him. Joker took it with a grin, replying in a loud tone to carry over the din. "Far too long Mary, its good to see you. Jitney here?" He asked curiously. The girl pointed to a door behind the bar, and Joker moved into it.
Inside it was dark and cold, shelves lining the walls with glass cases, a fine assortment of jewels and trinkets displayed with the utmost care an pride. There were shining pendants, chokers, rings and stones of all shapes and sizes. Behind the main desk was an old man, frail looking, wearing a brown apron, his hands shaking and his head bald save a few wisps of grey hair peeking out from a cap with a magnifying glass attached. He was hunched over something, Joker couldn’t make out what, and he was muttering to himself. "Whatcha got, Jitney?" Joker said as he moved to the counter. The old man didn’t even look up. "Pearls, fresh from the sounthroads, and in pretty good shape." He said, inspecting them with a bent neck. Joker's eyes brightened, just what he was looking for. "That’s good man, I need something. A tiara, here's the specs." Joker said, slipping a folded sheet of paper in front of the old man.
Jitney opened it, looking at it. "Its nothing but-oh, wait." He said, adjusting the magnifying glasses."Hmm, okay, yeah this shouldn’t be too hard. I could have it done up tomorrow." He said with a firm nod of his head. Joker nodded in return. "Do it, I have a buyer on the line, and I'll have him down here to get it soon enough." He said. "Im gonna grab a room and stay the night. Ill check on it tomorrow." With that, Joker left the jewelers, heading back to the bar to get a room for the night.
The next morning Joker found himself walking back through the commons, heading to the jewelers. He walked through the crowd With a relaxed stride, stretching and yawning. He walked to Jitney's door, opening it. There behind the counter was the old man, as always wearing his lens hat and apron, bent over a tiara. It was beautiful, pearls lining the top of silver lace, like teardrops, or drops of...well, it was for the Cum Queen tournament, but Joker decided to leave the engraving of the words to the locals in Nanthalion. He looked it over With an appreciative eye, though some of the pearls were lackluster. "Bad crops?" Joker asked. "Yeah, some mages did something to some of the grottos." Jitney replied without looking up.
Then a crash, and the door opening. It was readily apparent by the smell that Borgnim had entered. Joker turned to look at the hobgoblin, flanked by two minotaurs With the exact same fur pattern, wearing the exact same armor, and carrying the exact same style of large warhammers. Between them was a hobgoblin, and an ugly one at that. Small beady eyes surrounded by a pudgy unhealthy filthy face and wearing a sneer that looked so permanent it could have been painted on. He looked around, then back to Joker, appraising him. "Joker, its been awhile. Da snot nosed little kid from Mazzard is now da snot nosed little man from Nanthalion, so I hear." He said With a harsh laugh.
Joker shrugged. "The fat ugly goblin from Charris is still the fat ugly goblin from Charris." Joker said blankly. "What do you want from me Borgnim?" Borgnim snarled. "Your buddy Fox from da guild in Mazzard been leanin on us, says we stiffed him some money. We thought you might help us negotiate. Its an easy job, you just have to let us tie you up and haul you out in front of Fox, then have him pay us som money to forget about his little disrespect. Allow the Breigbull Twins to help convince you. Boys?"
The two minotaurs looked at Borgnim, then each other, then to Joker with a grin, hefting their hammers and stepping forward on loud hooved feet. Joker was not impressed. His hands flew behind his coat, his daggers flew from his sheath, then flew through the air and into the minotaurs. They had been wearing full plate and mail, but unfortunately that weren’t wearing faceguards. Too bad for them, Joker thought as he leaped over the corpses, rapier drawn and held to the ugly goblins throat. Borgnim was too shocked to move, too shocked to speak, too shocked to even pee himself.
"Now then, you're going to give Fox whatever he wants, you're going to tell the goons outside to let me out of here, and then you're going to never speak to me again. Got it?" Borgnim nodded as Joker reached behind him, the tiara floating to the bag, the bag floating to his hands. "Jitney, its eight hundred, right?" Joker said. "Yeah, and If I don’t get the money or the tiara back soon, Ral'Seti is not welcome here." Jitney said quietly. As much as Borgnim talked, Joker knew Jitney could make his life miserable, so he nodded. Borgnim opened the door for him, and Joker took off. Hours later, he found himself back in Nanthalion, bag in hand and a grin on his face.