Business Ventures

Jacob Mauler was an unfriendly breed of man, however deceptive his handsome face was. Tall and warmly hued with bright blue eyes and a beard that, while ill-kept, seemed to attribute to his rustic good looks. His accent suggested a Bree-land upbringing, marking him a towering oddity among the local folk.

He was rarely seen around town, being no stranger to the back alleys and unlit pathways that dipped just outside the town wall. That was where he met her, in fact. Miss Thistling. Their meeting was oddly coincidental, and he didn't quite like how she'd seemed so prepared to offer him work despite her insistence that she'd never laid eyes on him before. In truth, he had no reason to doubt her and he needed coin which made her bargain a hard one to refuse. She seemed a demure sort of woman, portraying a mask of modesty over what was clearly a charismatic charm. It was off putting in an intriguing way, and he couldn't help but wonder how many masks she wore. It wasn't any of his business, he remembered thinking, and besides that, she offered a good amount of money for easy enough work.

It'd been two weeks now since she'd gone, leaving him with the task of checking in on the storefront and closing what accounts remained open. He hadn't known her for long, but the way she left seemed wholly uncharacteristic of her. She was so careful, never making a step or saying a word she hadn't recited before. He'd watched her make a dozen deals and every time, she said the same things tailored to whomever sat across from her.

It always worked.

When she left, it was in a flurry. She'd packed a trunk, then consolidated its contents into a travel pack, then thought thrice about it and stuffed an even smaller amount into a leather satchel. When she'd called him over that morning, she explained she was leaving for Gondor, of all places, in pursuit of a business venture and wouldn't be back for some months.

It wasn't hard to notice the redness around her eyes, the way her hair seemed so messily bunched at the back of her neck, the dark circles of a sleepless night. Still, he remembered thinking her beautiful in a broken sort of way. It wasn't surprising for him to find vulnerability attractive in her, however wrong that was of him. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was aware of her state, and welcomed no questions.

One heavy sack of coins and an envelope later, he was watching her silhouette hurry down the morninglit street from inside the quiet of the shop. He hadn't opened the letter until after she was well out of sight, and after he'd read it he was glad he waited.

She'd left Roanhorse to him and all of its contents, with the single stipulation that he continue to care for the impish creature she called Pyewacket.

Eodette didn't intend to return for a long, long time.