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The Brotherhood Chronicles: The Golden Key

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Author Topic: The Brotherhood Chronicles: The Golden Key  (Read 1008 times)
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« on: 22 April, 2008, 09:05:05 pm »

Chapter 3:

     It was easy to get lost in this kind of town. Though it was easily one of the smallest villages Moris had visited over the years, it still managed to confuse him. The winding streets and countless back alleys made navigating through the village near impossible. He knew where he had to go, the small cemetery marked just outside of town, but nobody in town could tell him its exact location. Whoever he asked either grunted or shrugged their shoulders and walked off. Moris could clearly see that he wasn't going to get anywhere...fast. His few excursions out of the village proved fruitless as he would wind up just getting lost for hours and wind up back where he started. But he refused to quit; "Someone in this God-forsaken town has to know where the cemetery is," he thought to himself.

     Disgusted by his failures and the lack of support he was getting from the villagers, Moris made his way to a local tavern he had seen when he got off the boat. As he entered the bar, to his surprise, someone called his name; "Moris?" Caught off guard by hearing his name, Moris looked around for the source of the voice. To his astonishment, he saw another member of the Brotherhood sitting in the corner by the door. Moris remembered from their brief introduction years ago by his father to refer to him as Byron. From what Moris could remember from past excursions with Byron, the man was a sniveling coward of a man. Though not outright evil, Byron would not hesitate to leave you for dead given the chance. "Byron? What are you doing here?"

     The question sounded fake, even to Moris. He had a very good idea why Byron was there. He quietly bet himself that Byron was probably hiding the four pieces under his large coat now; though even if he was it would have been impossible to tell due to the man's enormous girth. Byron's beady eyes darted from his face to his coat pocket. They both obviously knew what was going on, and neither one was going to let the other know.

     "I see you're looking well," started Byron. The man was never at a loss for words.
     "You as well. What brings you out here?" Moris replied, testing the waters to see how much Byron suspected.
     "Afraid I can't tell you that. Top secret and all. But you knew that, of course,"
     "Of course," The Brotherhood always worked in secret. It was law that no more than two members ever work together on a single assignment. Any breach of this code led to an inquisition by all members on those who broke the rule to begin with.
     "Its odd that both of us would be workin' in the same place, though? Anyone else with ya?" At this, Byron moved so he could see behind Moris to check and make sure he didn't see anyone he might know.
     "No, I'm alone. Though I could use your help," This was going to be the tricky part, convincing Byron to trust him; "I'm looking for an old cemetery thats supposed to be somewhere outside of town. No one here seems to want to help me. Do you have any idea?"
     "Really? Can you lead me there?"
     "Uh...," Byron looked around nervously; "Sure, just let me 'pay' for my drinks,"
Byron walked to the bar and handed something to the bartender and walked back.
     "So who's ready to find a cemetery?"

     As the two men left the bar, a woman who had been cleaning glasses behind him turned, "Well?"
     "Its taken care of. He'll get Moris's piece and then start the marker. Once its done, we'll kill any witnesses left."
     "That includes Byron, right?" The man thought for a minute. The thought had crossed his mind before. The rat was too much of a liability to be left alive.
     "Yes... No survivors."
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"The question isnít who is going to let me; itís who is going to stop me." ~ Ayn Rand

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