Kavilion: A First Encounter

“Ah, welcome, fine sir, welcome to Habar’s House of Oddities!” the mouse-like old man grinned at Kavilion, his hunched form curled around a gnarled staff. A moth eaten linen tunic clung to him, equally worn faded too-big green leggings draped his bare feet in fold of cloth and lingered in the old man’s wake. “How can Habar help you today?” The apparent Habar smiled again, beady black eyes peering around a massive nose.
Kav glanced around the store briefly. Dust covered shelves laden deep with mountains of books, papers, weapons, and unidentifiable contraptions sprawled in every direction. The little old man hovered near a large polished counter, potions and vials stood in neat lines on the very clean and orderly shelves behind him.
“I was told you could help me find something.” Kav started slowly, his polished black boots clicking sharply as he walked to the counter from the door.
“What would that be? I find many things, young sir.” The elderly Habar said still smiling.
“I seek a map to Lady Silvolett’s tomb.” Kavilion announced in a solid tone to the empty shop.
The ancient merchant suddenly grew very silent, the smile gone. Slowly he appraised the young half-elf before him, taking in the plain yet well cut clothes, rain drenched though they were, the flawless black boots and plumed hat, plain to most people, obviously expensive if one knew what to look for. The way the young man wore the swords and flintlocks at his waist, the measured grace with which he moved, the calculating stare that never left his dark eyes.
“I doubt, for some reason, you mean to pay your respects to the Enchantress.” The smile returning slightly, though the business like tone remained.
“Hardly.” It was Kav’s turn to smile.
“What do you offer in trade, young sir?” Habar’s eyes glinted.
Kav reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a small pouch. He emptied the contents onto the counter, three beautifully cut rubies spun from the velvet pouch onto the well polished surface. “And the purse you lifted off me as you met me at the door.”
Habar hooted joyously like a young child and withdrew the thick purse from the voluptuous folds of his tunic. “Well played, young sir. Come, I have what you want.” He gathered up the spinning red gems and scuttled around the counter and down one of the corridors of shelves. “Come, young sir, come!”
Slowly Kav followed, his heels clicking softly on the cold stone floor. The elderly man moved quickly for his apparent age, his faded and worn clothing flowing behind him. He marched past row after row of books and assorted metal items. On occasion glancing behind him to make sure Kav was keeping up, though the clicking of Kav’s boots surely gave away of his progress.
Suddenly, he stopped. The flimsy light filtering in the small window at the front of the store was hardly a pin prick against the dark. Kavilion had grossly underestimated the size of the store. Habar clapped twice suddenly, torches sprang to light all around them. Carefully he bent and dragged a massive chest out from one of the shelves. “Here lad, help me with this.”
Kav stooped and muscled the ironclad chest from shelf to the floor. Habar snatched one of the torches from a sconce and handed it to Kav absently. “Hold this.” Again, Kav wordlessly complied.
Slowly, the elderly man drew a shockingly huge key ring from a hidden pocket. The ring was nearly a hand wide, and several of the keys it held easily two hands long. Another sharp indicator that not all was as it seemed when Habar was involved. He inserted a key into the chests lock, and flipped open the lid. One by one, the old man withdrew papers and scrolls, one by one he discarded them to Kav with an absent “hold this...”
Habar let forth a childish yelp, “Here lad, I found it!” Kav bent to inspect the parchment the elderly man waved at him- and jerked upright suddenly. A small dagger was buried deep in his back, already he could feel his strength fading. Poison most likely, he could only hope it wasn’t deadly.
“Really, boy, you shouldn’t be so trusting. Selling a map to the richest treasure horde since King Dalaunay’s stash was found for a few coins and some shiny rocks? How stupid did you think I was?”

Blackness came.

Kav awoke in the dark. He assumed that Habar was either going to ransom him to the thieves’ guild, or perhaps sell him to Atruska slavers. He really couldn’t figure out what would be worse. Thieves didn’t take too kindly to outsiders encroaching onto their territory, and being a slave wasn’t a fate he fancied he’d enjoy much. Though it would be easier to escape from slavery. You couldn’t escape a cut throat.
Carefully, Kav explored his prison, and discovered it to be a box, a large box, but still a box. He felt the seam where lid and chest met. Perhaps four feet from the ‘ground’. As far as he could figure, the box was about 5 feet, by 7, by 5. Not enough room to stand erect, but enough to lie comfortably flat. A small pleasure.
Several hours, as far as he could guess, after awakening, the box began to move. It felt as though it was being lifted and carried. Kav had no intention of giving up easily. He thrashed against the box, several times causing the unseen bearer to drop it, on one occasion, the box was tipped on its side in retaliation. Eventually, the lifting stopped. Instead, a rumbling shaking began. Much akin to a cart’s movement, which, Kavilion assumed, it probably was. Hurriedly, he began feeling around the edges of the seam again, if he was going to escape, it would have to be before they got where they were going.
There was a small lock mecanizim on the side of the box near the lid, he felt at it hurriedly. Once a reasonable idea of the lock was figured in his mind, he tugged at his boot. Kav already knew that Habar had taken his picks and weapons. Damn it, Habar would pay! He liked those picks! But Kav also knew he had a spare pick in his boot! The boot snapped off, and the pick went flying. Desperately, Kav fought off panic as he searched for his pick on the floor of the box.
Suddenly, the ‘cart’ stopped. Just as Kav’s hand closed around the pick, the chest went flying from the back of the unseen cart with a hidieous screech. Kav slammed against one side then the other, white light exploding behind his eyes. Dazed, he gripped desperately to the pick.
The clanking of chains roared around him, he rammed the pick into the lock, and with practiced haste, went to work on the lock. The chains roared around the outside of the box, their clanking revealing their nature. Screaming with rage, Kav twisted the lock open and slammed open the lid- it gave for about half a hand.
“Hey, he opened the lock!” shouted an unseen man in surprise.
“Hurry, help me push this thing into the water!” Said another.
A few men laughed as Kavilion screamed in blind rage. A heavy lock stood silhouetted against the sharp light of a street lamp. Even more desperate than before, Kav twisted at the locks guts, his skilled fingers spinning and dancing in a practiced ballet around the pick.
Just as the locks last tumblers popped open, Kav was again weightless. The box spinning from a ledge. A resounding roar errupted in the night as the massive box hit the water. Kav reeled inside, stunned from the impact, only his panic driving him towards the in flowing waters. The pick had snapped off in the lock, it held the thick iron clasp shut now, it’s tiny silver existence all that was between Kav and life. He gripped it blindly, pulling with the desperate madness of a man who’s life hung in the balance. His fingers slick with water, the box almost full, and all he thought to do was escape. His hate and desperation boiled down to one last desperate tug as the freezing water filled the box- the pick slipped out, the lock gave way. With a final mad kick he erupted from the box and into the river.
He pulled himself instinctively towards the lights at the surface, and exploded from the water, gasping for air, shivering and half-drowned. Slowly he paddled himself to a rusted iron ladder, and pulled himself to the top of the river-front. Vengeance filled his mind, soundlessly he screamed at the cloudy night sky. Hate warmed him as he stood. Sodden, tired and raging, Kavilion stumbled into a dark alley and vanished.

Oh yes, Habar would pay.