Diary of a Rogue (6)

Part VI:

It was a normal summer day in Southshore. I was standing on the docks, throwing rocks at seagulls who dodged them artfully. There was a ship being loaded with grains from Tarren Mill and bound to some wondrous land. That wondrous land was probably guarded by some huge, stone fortress to protect from dragons and trolls. Or so my vivid childhood imagination thought. Southshore was as boring a place to grow up as any.

So bored was I, that the explosion and rain of glass around me didn’t register for several seconds after it occurred. A loud ringing sound was all I could hear in my sensitive ears for several minutes. I looked around and saw sailors running toward the Inn whose second story now had smoke pouring from a blackened window. I made my way toward the Silver Dolphin Inn along with the crowd as the sound of ringing slowly subsided.

I gathered in a crowd of chattering children, wondering with the rest if the Inn would burn down and what treasures we’d find in the charred remains after it did. No fire emerged from the hole in the Inn, just a strange bluish-grey smoke. Old Pauly, owner of the Inn, appeared in the doorway dragging a female goblin by the ear. The goblin found herself tossed into the street, with a duffle bag following her soon after.

“Keep your experiments out of my Inn,” Old Pauly screamed, turning a bright purple, “I told you last night not to be mixing chemicals after you stunk my place up like a mess of rotten skunks!”

All eyes were on the female goblin who dusted herself off and held her composure and tongue. She actually had a haughty look as she harrumphed, picked up her bag, and walked down the street.

Excitement had come to Southshore.