It was noon, and the tavern was slow. Dorn walked through the dinning room, making sure the few customers he had were taken care of.
Dorn sighed. He didn’t like the tavern this slow. He liked to keep busy. He liked to see villagers having to stand in line and wait for service. Now all he could do is continually clean the glasses that he had already wiped down; sweep the already spotless floor; or scrub down the counter that was worn smooth by the constant sliding of dishes across it.
The door opened and in walked Miguel. As Dorn looked him over, he couldn’t help but notice the disheveled appearance of the man. Dorn thought it looked as though the stranger had spent the night on the open sea shore; occasionally being doused in waves.
As he approached the bar, Dorn could smell alcohol on him once again. Miguel, however, did not sway or slur his speech. Either the smell was from the night before or Miguel had not had enough to drink this morning to effect him. The smell of his breath as he spoke told Dorn it was the latter.
“Well, good morning, sir! We never did finish our discussion last night.”
“I wasn’t aware we had anything to discuss”
“You didn’t seem to keen to discuss, I'll give ye that. However, sir, my curiosity is peaked. And when I get to thinkin’ on somethin’ narry a thing can distract me. My mother called it being single minded.”
Dorn walked around the counter and began wiping down the tables in the dining room.
“The Urge, sir. You never did explain.”
An unease rippled though the room. All conversation now halted and all eyes turned towards Dorn.
“Tell him, Dorn”
Dorn turned to see Andrew standing in the doorway.
“Andrew, this doesn’t concern you” Dorn replied. Inside, Dorn was exuberant. The rumors he had began now truly taking a hold on the community.
“Idiots” Dorn thought. “Superstitious idiots. They’d believe the moon was a blueberry with enough public assent”
“Yes, ‘Dorn’, tell me.” Miguel tried out the name as if it was totally foreign to him.
Dorn looked and saw that everyone in the room was awaiting his response. Unlike the night before, his patrons were eager to listen. The daylight must have soothed their fears.
Dorn sank heavily into one of the chairs next to him and sighed.
“A few months ago odd things began to happen. Mysterious fires began to break out around town.”
“Not exactly the devils work, eh’?”
“No. Not if it had stopped there. One night however, was different. A cow was found hanging from the fountain in the village square. It was hanging from it’s hind legs and had been skinned entirely save for one small piece of hide on it’s shoulder. The brand was intact. The brand was that of the devil. A small circle with a five pointed star on the inside. As the town stood watching, one man, Brock, went to cut the cow down. At the moment Brock reached up to cut the beasts cords, he was struck by God and died instantly”
At this, Miguel’s eyebrows raised. Dorn could tell he was skeptical, but intrigued.
Dorn sighed. He didn’t like the tavern this slow. He liked to keep busy. He liked to see villagers having to stand in line and wait for service. Now all he could do is continually clean the glasses that he had already wiped down; sweep the already spotless floor; or scrub down the counter that was worn smooth by the constant sliding of dishes across it.
The door opened and in walked Miguel. As Dorn looked him over, he couldn’t help but notice the disheveled appearance of the man. Dorn thought it looked as though the stranger had spent the night on the open sea shore; occasionally being doused in waves.
As he approached the bar, Dorn could smell alcohol on him once again. Miguel, however, did not sway or slur his speech. Either the smell was from the night before or Miguel had not had enough to drink this morning to effect him. The smell of his breath as he spoke told Dorn it was the latter.
“Well, good morning, sir! We never did finish our discussion last night.”
“I wasn’t aware we had anything to discuss”
“You didn’t seem to keen to discuss, I'll give ye that. However, sir, my curiosity is peaked. And when I get to thinkin’ on somethin’ narry a thing can distract me. My mother called it being single minded.”
Dorn walked around the counter and began wiping down the tables in the dining room.
“The Urge, sir. You never did explain.”
An unease rippled though the room. All conversation now halted and all eyes turned towards Dorn.
“Tell him, Dorn”
Dorn turned to see Andrew standing in the doorway.
“Andrew, this doesn’t concern you” Dorn replied. Inside, Dorn was exuberant. The rumors he had began now truly taking a hold on the community.
“Idiots” Dorn thought. “Superstitious idiots. They’d believe the moon was a blueberry with enough public assent”
“Yes, ‘Dorn’, tell me.” Miguel tried out the name as if it was totally foreign to him.
Dorn looked and saw that everyone in the room was awaiting his response. Unlike the night before, his patrons were eager to listen. The daylight must have soothed their fears.
Dorn sank heavily into one of the chairs next to him and sighed.
“A few months ago odd things began to happen. Mysterious fires began to break out around town.”
“Not exactly the devils work, eh’?”
“No. Not if it had stopped there. One night however, was different. A cow was found hanging from the fountain in the village square. It was hanging from it’s hind legs and had been skinned entirely save for one small piece of hide on it’s shoulder. The brand was intact. The brand was that of the devil. A small circle with a five pointed star on the inside. As the town stood watching, one man, Brock, went to cut the cow down. At the moment Brock reached up to cut the beasts cords, he was struck by God and died instantly”
At this, Miguel’s eyebrows raised. Dorn could tell he was skeptical, but intrigued.
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