MT Part 4 (VG)
A small but busy looking group of government workers carrying stacks of documents rushed onto the steps and began to hurriedly make their way down, chattering incomprehensibly to one another.
"What's that?" the ranger asked, dodging an oblivious official.
"We've got to pick someone up."
"Who?"
Zanadar turned back to Morgan as he reached the top of the stairs, "You're just full of questions aren't you?"
Morgan suddenly felt a bit sheepish, "Sorry... this is just a bit... unusual. I can't say I've been given too many big assignments yet, but I was under the impression the rangers didn't employ any real outside help unless matters were quite serious."
"What? You don't think I could be a ranger?" Zanadar said with a feigned hurt.
"Well," Morgan shrugged, "You aren't, are you?"
The big man grinned, "No, you are correct -- I am not."
"Is your friend then?" Morgan asked.
Zanadar laughed deeply. "Ah...No."
"If you don't mind me asking then," Morgan said, "Why are you here?"
"That's a bit complicated I'm afraid, let's just say I owe Adlus a favor," he answered.
Morgan wasn't convinced, but decided to let the matter drop for the time being. As much as he disliked the Minister he was grateful to be given this opportunity. He knew it wasn't much, but it also wasn't guarding a nearly forgotten road by himself for weeks on end. Still though, Adlus' mention of trouble to the east in the highlands gnawed at his mind. He tried to push the thought out of his head, but to no avail. Something big may be happening there. Morgan chuckled softly to himself, maybe something big was happening in Rindol Field.
"What are you laughing at?" Zanadar asked, as they rounded a corner.
"Nothing," he answered. "Do you know anything about what's happening in the highlands?" Morgan asked suddenly.
"No," the big man said.
He narrowed his eyes, "I don't know if I believe you."
"The fact that Adlus saw fit to send every available ranger--besides you that is--to the region has me uneasy as well, Morgan. But I assure you, I haven't the slightest idea what is going on over there."
"Fair enough," Morgan said, still not entirely satisfied.
"And here we are," Zanadar stated as the hallway opened into a wide room.
Bookshelves were set wall to wall in neatly arranged rows. An elderly librarian stood behind a table at the far end of the chamber, sorting a stack of tomes. In the center of the room were a small number of long wooden benches. Behind them a large window overlooked the city below. The sea dominated the horizon, as it splashed against the rocky cliffs upon which New Targonor's outer wall was built. Great waves threw themselves at the exposed earth sending white foam spraying all directions before retreating back into the ocean. In the city, antlike workers scurried about the streets busily, negotiating the crowds as they moved from one small building to the next.
Zanadar stepped into the room and looked around. He walked slowly down the side of the chamber, peering down each row of overflowing shelves. After a moment, he came back to the center of the room, shaking his head.
"What?" Morgan asked.
"He's not here. I knew he wouldn't stay, blast it." Zanadar cursed under his breath and walked over to the librarian's counter. "Excuse me," he said. The librarian looked up.
"What?" the old woman asked, somewhat irritably.
"I was hoping you could help me with something, I'm looking for a friend." Zanadar said.
"Unless your friend happens to be a book, I'm afraid I can't help." The librarian went back to her stack of texts.
"He was in here a while ago," Zanadar pressed, "Big white beard, silly hat. Hard to miss, probably very loud. Come to think of it," he added, "you may have kicked him out."
The old woman scowled, "Oh that one. I'm surprised he has any friends. Foulest man to ever set foot in my library. Don't you even think about bringing him back in here. Good riddance, I say."
"Ah, you remember him!" Zanadar smiled, "I don't suppose you know where he went do you?"
"Probably back to the gutter where vagrants like him belong," she growled.
"But he didn't say which gutter specifically?" the big man asked.
The librarian huffed, "That one said a lot of things. A lot of mean things."
Morgan stifled a laugh, "It sounds as if you keep good company," he said quietly. The librarian shot him an icy stare.
"You stay away from that man," she said, "He's a bad influence."
Zanadar nodded. "I agree completely ma'am," he said, "Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, I must see him." He smiled widely to the librarian, "and it would help me greatly if you had any idea where he went."
The old woman frowned. "Well, he did say something about being thirsty. He mumbled about getting a drink on his way out," she said somewhat begrudgingly.
The big man set his hand on top of the old woman's. "Thank you very much, you've been a wonderful help," he said, still smiling, "And the Great Library itself is not so well kept as yours, I must say."
The librarian began to smile, but caught herself. She straightened, "All right, I told you all I know. Please leave me to my work, these books won't sort themselves."
"Oh, of course," Zanadar apologized, "Again, thank you for your assistance. Keep up the good work!"
Morgan leaned in as they left the library. "I get the feeling you've practiced that," he said. "So where are we going then?"
Zanadar grinned, "To get a drink."
"There's a lot of places to get a drink in the city," Morgan said, "Your friend could be anywhere."
"I've got a good idea where he went. For as much as he'd like to think he isn't, Elandar is fairly predictable. Don't worry, we can find something to eat there too."
"That's his name?" Morgan asked, "Elandar?"
"Among other things," Zanadar said, "Yes."
The two men made their way out of the keep and back down to the city streets. The sun was now high overhead but the morning's hustle still remained. Zanadar led the ranger back towards the edge of the city, where the buildings were packed even tighter together. He stopped outside a seedy looking tavern; its sign was worn and cracked and hung lopsided on the front of the building.
" 'Tavern'," Morgan read the sign aloud, "Well, that's pretty straightforward, I suppose."
A series of loud unmistakably female shrieks came from inside the building, followed by the sound of something breaking against the wall and much laughter.
Zanadar nodded. "This is definitely the place," he gestured towards the door, "After you."
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