R
Radames
Guest
Rameses had finally crossed into a more populated area, and was relieved to get away from the sun-scorched heath he had wandered across for what seemed like days. He could now see a sort of small town ahead, and he expected to be there within an hour. As he continued walking he thought about the things he would now have to do after finally finding a place where other people could be found. Of course his hunt for the man named Asmodeus was still his primary concern, but if he was to continue in his search he would have to procure provisions for the journey. Also, it occured to him that it might not be a bad idea to stop at this place and rest awhile, taking time to gather his thoughts and recuperate from the wears and ravages of his time spent traveling through the Southern Cross.
He had nearly reached the town now, and as he got closer it gradually occurred to him that this place might not be the best choice to make a stop. What few buildings (if he were to deign to call them that) he could see were ramshackle structures bleached by the sun and scoured by the desert sands. He supposed some of them were homes, but judging by the lack of visible activity either outside or in, there didn't seem to be very few people living here. Or maybe it was that they didn't want to be seen? Either way, he decided he would investigate a building located roughly in the center of the deserted-looking settlement. Judging from its outward appearance, it was a bar or saloon of some sort.
There was a row of rusted and disused hitching posts out front, making it seem as if no one had stopped for a drink here in some time. As Rameses drew closer, he saw a partial skeleton at the base of one of these posts. It was hard to determine what kind of creature it had come from, partially because it lacked a head. It also was slightly smaller than what one would expect for a horse, or at least a healthy one. He wasn't sure, but Rameses could almost have sworn it was of a large dog or wolf, or maybe even a jackal.
Realizing he had become distracted, he proceeded to enter the saloon. Walking through a pair of swinging doors, he stepped into the cool indoor shade, relieved to finally be out from under the burning glare of the sun. Looking around the place, he saw that it was empty, and from the way half the chairs and tables were either broken or turned over onto the floor, he could guess that this establishment had long since ceased serving a regular crowd of patrons. There was a crude bar made of wooden boards, and behind it a doorway leading further back into the building. Approaching the bar, he tried to peer through the doorway to see what was behind it. Suddenly, there emerged through the doorway a bedraggled man in threadbare clothes with a wiry beard. He didn't seem particularly surprised to see Rameses there. The man removed a dirty-looking cloth from his back pants pocket and began wiping down the makeshift bar. He must have been the bartender, although he had yet to offer Rameses a drink or even so much as acknowledge his presence.
Not sure of how to approach the man or begin to ask him a question, Rameses blinked surprisedly at him and drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. He decided he would simply state his business and hope the man would give him an answer. If that were to fail, he was not above resorting to violence to get the man's attention. After all, he had not come all this way just to end up staring down a barkeep in the middle of some wretched ghost town.
"I have come here looking for a man called Asmodeus. Can you tell me where I might find him?"
His voice sounded flat and emotionless in the stillness and quiet of the dilapidated bar room. The man looked up at him, his eyes slowly sweeping over Rameses from head to foot, up and down and back again before finally settling on the former priest's face. The bartender's eyes were a dull gray, made to look even more vacant by the listless expression on his face. Through that blank countenance, Rameses could almost have sworn he noticed a faint ripple of recognition, followed closely by fear. It was almost enough to bring a semblance of liveliness to the man's face, but it quickly faded, replaced by a slight wry grin that just barely pricked up the corners of the man's mouth. He then withdrew from the bar, turning and walking back through the door he had just come through, chuckling softly to himself.
Stunned and slightly indignant from the behavior he had just witnessed, Rameses stormed out of the bar and back into the dusty road cutting in front of the saloon, using both arms to send the swinging doors flying out to either side in annoyance. Now he found himself in the middle of nowhere without any promising leads or so much as a single clue as to where to go from here. For all his trouble, he had come up with nothing.
He had nearly reached the town now, and as he got closer it gradually occurred to him that this place might not be the best choice to make a stop. What few buildings (if he were to deign to call them that) he could see were ramshackle structures bleached by the sun and scoured by the desert sands. He supposed some of them were homes, but judging by the lack of visible activity either outside or in, there didn't seem to be very few people living here. Or maybe it was that they didn't want to be seen? Either way, he decided he would investigate a building located roughly in the center of the deserted-looking settlement. Judging from its outward appearance, it was a bar or saloon of some sort.
There was a row of rusted and disused hitching posts out front, making it seem as if no one had stopped for a drink here in some time. As Rameses drew closer, he saw a partial skeleton at the base of one of these posts. It was hard to determine what kind of creature it had come from, partially because it lacked a head. It also was slightly smaller than what one would expect for a horse, or at least a healthy one. He wasn't sure, but Rameses could almost have sworn it was of a large dog or wolf, or maybe even a jackal.
Realizing he had become distracted, he proceeded to enter the saloon. Walking through a pair of swinging doors, he stepped into the cool indoor shade, relieved to finally be out from under the burning glare of the sun. Looking around the place, he saw that it was empty, and from the way half the chairs and tables were either broken or turned over onto the floor, he could guess that this establishment had long since ceased serving a regular crowd of patrons. There was a crude bar made of wooden boards, and behind it a doorway leading further back into the building. Approaching the bar, he tried to peer through the doorway to see what was behind it. Suddenly, there emerged through the doorway a bedraggled man in threadbare clothes with a wiry beard. He didn't seem particularly surprised to see Rameses there. The man removed a dirty-looking cloth from his back pants pocket and began wiping down the makeshift bar. He must have been the bartender, although he had yet to offer Rameses a drink or even so much as acknowledge his presence.
Not sure of how to approach the man or begin to ask him a question, Rameses blinked surprisedly at him and drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. He decided he would simply state his business and hope the man would give him an answer. If that were to fail, he was not above resorting to violence to get the man's attention. After all, he had not come all this way just to end up staring down a barkeep in the middle of some wretched ghost town.
"I have come here looking for a man called Asmodeus. Can you tell me where I might find him?"
His voice sounded flat and emotionless in the stillness and quiet of the dilapidated bar room. The man looked up at him, his eyes slowly sweeping over Rameses from head to foot, up and down and back again before finally settling on the former priest's face. The bartender's eyes were a dull gray, made to look even more vacant by the listless expression on his face. Through that blank countenance, Rameses could almost have sworn he noticed a faint ripple of recognition, followed closely by fear. It was almost enough to bring a semblance of liveliness to the man's face, but it quickly faded, replaced by a slight wry grin that just barely pricked up the corners of the man's mouth. He then withdrew from the bar, turning and walking back through the door he had just come through, chuckling softly to himself.
Stunned and slightly indignant from the behavior he had just witnessed, Rameses stormed out of the bar and back into the dusty road cutting in front of the saloon, using both arms to send the swinging doors flying out to either side in annoyance. Now he found himself in the middle of nowhere without any promising leads or so much as a single clue as to where to go from here. For all his trouble, he had come up with nothing.
Summary: Rameses Abraxas enters the town of Anton and inquires about Asmodeus.