Trapped
In the upper parts of the Snake raven inn, a fat merchant rubbed his hands together cunningly. He imagined mountains of gold as he prepared for tomorrow.
“Boy!” he called out to Hess.
“S-sir?”
“Did you finish polishing and cleaning all the goods?”
“Almost, sir.”
“What? You should’ve finished by now!” Bertram sighed. “It needs to get done!” he said with a poisonous voice as Hess left the room with his head lowered.
Leaning back in his chair, he had a puff from a cigar. Clearly, he wasn’t as angry as he led Hess to believe, but he had an extremely short temper with Hess, while he would never yell angrily at anyone else. Perhaps because he knew he could get away with it.
Bertram turned his chair and looked out the rose glass windows of the inn. He knew that a military escort was coming, bringing with them even more naïve adventurers - these were Bertram’s prey.