Murder in Halruaa Read Online Free PDF Page A

looks were at a premium at the Lallor Gate. Pryce rubbed his
    hands together in anticipation. Cushy job for life indeed! If the respect and kindnesses of these people were any evidence, he was going to like it here… a lot!
    He wasn’t even daunted by the grave gate guard who got closer and closer as each successive person saw Pryce, did a double take, and then offered him his or her place in line. The only thing that gave him pause was what looked like a difficult test that awaited him when he reached the one person between him and the big-eyed gate itself.
    The first man in line—a skinny, nervous sort with an Adam’s apple that skipped up and down like a bouncing ball—couldn’t give up his place because he was already in the midst of the entry examination. It soon became abundantly clear that access to Lallor came only after a thorough explanation of who you were and a complete examination of what you could be.
    An admissions clerk in a thick, elegant hooded vestment sat behind a floating slab of marble, upon which rested a pile of parchment. The man’s face was living proof of the law of gravity. Everything was sinking on his wizened visage, from the bags under his watery blue eyes to the jowls that hung like a hairless beard on either side of a mouth that looked like an upside-down horseshoe.
    Standing slightly behind this clearly disapproving character was a stone golem, a more classic example of which Pryce could hardly imagine. Nine and a half feet tall, at least two thousand pounds, and chiseled to look like a cross between a gigantic headstone and a huge tree trunk, it loomed menacingly between the clerk and the gate.
    Its rock eyes were closed, its nose flat and wide, and its long lips gave an impression of being slightly irked. Its body had only the merest suggestion of legs, giving Pryce the distinct feeling that it could not be tipped or knocked over. The most impressive and noticeable aspect of the thing, however, was its hands. They were huge and flat, seemingly made to create thunder if the
    creature ever applauded. Covington could imagine a Lallor invader getting his head turned to flatbread by a single resounding clap. The monstrous golem had the effect it was no doubt created for: to discourage anyone except the most foolhardy or suicidal from making a run for the freedom and prosperity that Lallor promised.
    Pryce’s previous bravado disappeared like a popping soap bubble. He gritted his teeth in concern and drew in a long breath. Then he became aware of the admissions clerk’s questions to the only person who remained between Pryce and the head of the line.
    “Race?” The gatekeeper’s voice was similar to his face: heavy, thick, and deep.
    “Human,” the small, bent, thin person in front of Pryce said quickly and quietly, manhandling his hat nervously.
    The clerk suddenly went on quickly, as if the nervous man hadn’t spoken. “A, dwarf; B, elf; C, gnome; D, half-elf; E, halfling; F, human; G, other.”
    “Uh, that would be F, sir. Yes, definitely F.”
    The clerk ignored the dithering. He seemed only to hear the letter “F” and duly marked it down with a quill pen. Then he continued the interrogation, his voice again somber and slow. “Class?”
    The man waited for the clerk to continue, but when he didn’t, the befuddled person felt compelled to say, “Some schooling, sir…”
    “A, bard; B, priest; C, vagabond; D, warrior; E, wizard; F, other.”
    “Oh! Uh … C, I suppose … No, A! Yes, that’s right, A” The clerk stopped dead, then looked up slowly, ominously. “Well, which is it? A or C?”
    The skinny man’s eyes flicked nervously to the expressionless, motionless golem. “I have traveled many miles, sir,” he said with a wan smile. “I wish to be an entertainer for the good people within the city.”
    The clerk stared at him silently. Pryce found himself holding his breath, but suddenly the silence was broken as the clerk sonorously said “C,” marked it down,