Coded Secrets
Vhalar 24 716, 16th Bell
Location: The Bronze Boar
Patrick had taken to work in back today as the kitchen served a more private place to be anyways, rather than the bar upfront where everybody could plainly see him. He wanted to try and make some sort of sense out of the black book that Wendell had given to him the other day, but so far nothing really stood out no matter how much he read the foreign language. Even his attempts at reading between lines, changing letters around, and quietly sounding out what he read didn't help anything. He'd repeatedly looked down at the book which lay open several pages in, the context nothing but an unsolvable puzzle as he mulled over it slowly.
"saun 20 716
kàth në nasis ädà knights nëa'eth tê äz êänä vos, ëiv nëa'eth taken ilth ína'vas äz cahasïl vos thäríldï êhêmïskä. nev'niva'skith seems äz austhet ezou eav êm kàth në nasis, yev tänthêr ÿh aum en äz eyrith a'v ëiv emynitharis caution. ëiv êzouth ëïrthêu smas äz aret discovered zahaell, kàth në vür's drav vu gaïen äz ithna enth detection käïsï ädà knights."
Of the the few words that seemed to be written in common, there existed endless possibilities on what the meaning really was. Knights were pretty obvious as it was an Aukari that had been in possession of the book, caution likely hinted that he had to be discreet. Again that made sense because he was an Aukari and wouldn't want to draw attention to himself, yet that's precisely what he did when he'd gone to the Hound that night... It didn't make any sense though because of what this 'discovered' context hinted at. Just what did he discover? Or was he the discovered? Patrick sighed as he continued to wash the dishes in the basin, the hot water practically boiled his hands red as he'd grown accustomed to it by now.
"Hey Patrick," Daveth's voice called in through the doorway, "You mind gettin' some food ready? We've got a couple o' boot shiners who just passed out, probably in need o' some refreshments as well."
"Boot shiners? They even drunk?" Patrick hollered as he left the rag in the basin, a different washcloth used to dry his hands.
"Doubt it! Just get them somethin' and I'll see if I can't help them up." The Ithecal instructed as he returned to the bar to help whoever had fallen, Patrick once more sighed as he flipped the side of the book over shut. He'd grabbed a couple of bowls along along with mugs for drinks, prepped a platter of stew and bread for whoever exactly had shown up. People passing out happened all the time if they were drunk, but somebody who'd come in and passed out without a single drink was a bit unusual. With the food and mugs of ale prepped Patrick finally headed on through the doorway and out of the kitchen, his gaze sent to Daveth as the Ithecal pointed to the table where they were sitting at now.
"Oy," Patrick called out as he approached the two men, "Heard ya need a bit o' refreshments. Try and help yer selves to this then." He rested the platter on the table for them to reach, arms crossed as he watched to see if they were getting along well. Who faints in a tavern anyways?!


