He needed information, and the best place to get information in a town was the local tavern. It would hold what few strangers were visiting the town, and they would know what dangers could be lurking on the roads and in the territory he intended to travel. Armed with that information, his movement through Arkis to the Frontier would be smoother and quicker, so it was worth a wasted day and a little annoyance.

It didn't take him long to find the tavern. There were probably more than one in town, but this one was near the southern edge of town, and it would probably hold the most travellers within it. A town this far north in Arkis would have most of its traffic coming and going south. It was a typical tavern, from what he saw from the doorway, a doorway he instinctinvely ducked to get under, though it wasn't necessary, a rather rough-looking place with patched furniture and a slightly delapidated hearth on the far wall holding a large stewpot over it. The tavern's bar was on the left wall, and the rough tables and benches held some ten men in rugged leather clothing. A smallish, thin man stood behind the bar, and two bored-looking barmaids, both wearing dresses that showcased much more cleavage than they concealed, moved between the tables. The men here, about ten of them, had the looks of caravan guards or travellers, and they were exactly the kind of men who would have the information he desired. That information would be easy to get, if he went about it the right way.

Provided he got the chance. The look the little barkeep gave him was very flat and unfriendly, frowning and staring at him like he was some kind of Ogre. The conversation quieted down to a halt as the men in the bar stared at him, and it caused Tarrin to consider the best way to go about this.

"We don't serve no outlanders here," the barkeep said in Arkisian-accented Arakite. "Why don't you take your overly tall tail out of here and go somewhere you won't bother us honest folk."

"No barkeep I've ever met could be called an honest man," Tarrin replied in a blunt, flat tone, in flawless Arakite. That elicited a few chuckles from the men at the tables, but got him a very hot look from the barkeep. "How long I stay here depends entirely on how quickly you answer my questions."

"I ain't answering no questions for you, outlander," the barkeep said hotly, brandishing a pewter mug like a sword. "Now get yourself out of my inn before I call the Watch."

"Go ahead," Tarrin said, boldly sitting at the nearest available table. "I'm sure they'd love to see someone like me sitting in your fine inn. Why, I'm sure that the rumors that'll fly afterward will make you the most popular fellow in town."

"What do you mean?" the barkeep said suspiciously.

Tarrin withdrew his shaeram and presented it to him. "I'm sure you know what this is."

"Witchcraft!" the barkeep gasped, recognizing the symbol.

"Sorcery, actually. Witchcraft is an entirely different form of magic," he said absently. "Now then, would you like to answer my questions, or will I have to make sure that no soul in this town will come within a hundred spans of your inn?"

"What business do the katzh-dashi have in Arkis?" one of the men at the tables said in a rough voice. He was a tall, stringy fellow with a scraggly beard and a scar over his left eye. He wore a rust-splotched tunic, meaning that he usually wore armor. This man was a caravan guard. That meant that it would be a man like him that may know what he wanted to know.

"The Goblinoids," Tarrin said. "I've been sent to find out when they got here, what they've been doing, where they are now, and if anyone's had any encounters with them."

"Suld is on the other side of the West."

"Increased Goblinoid activity is everyone's business," Tarrin said to him crisply.

"True enough," the man chuckled gratingly.

The barkeep, who had been fuming for a few moments, banged down his pewter mug and glared at Tarrin. "Go ahead and ask your questions, then get out," he said heatedly.

"I'll be sure to recommend your inn to everyone I meet, barkeep," Tarrin said in a light tone, which made the man flinch. He just couldn't resist doing that. Sarraya had been a bad influence on him.

"That's a really big sword for a katzh-dashi," another man noted. "I thought you magic types didn't use things like that."

"I don't use the services of a Knight, so I've learned to do my own fighting," Tarrin told the man casually. "I was trained to be a soldier long before I was sent to the Tower."

That admission had a strange effect on the men at the tables. They all seemed to relax slightly, as if knowing that Tarrin was a fellow man of the sword gave them common ground.

"When did the Goblinoids start getting noticed?" Tarrin asked.

"Well, from what I heard, they started showing up about two months ago," another man said, a rather burly fellow sitting with the bearded man. "Only a few were seen at first, and then more and more. They were all seen on the edge of the Sandshield at first, but now they're being seen up to five days' walk west."

"Any large numbers of them?"

"One Troll is usually large enough," the bearded man chuckled. "They've been seen in small groups."

"Just Trolls?"

"That's all anyone I know has seen," the burly man answered.

"Hasn't the Emperor mobilized the army to deal with them?" Tarrin asked.

"Aye, but they're moving south to north," another man answered him, a short, pudgy man near the hearth. "They're sweeping the Sandshield near Arkis and Ardin before bothering with the small principalities. They'll get up here after chasing the Trolls out of the southern Sandshield. So it may be a while."

"Probably," Tarrin agreed. "Have they been making trouble?"

"Not at first, but there have been raids on villages and caravans recently," the burly man told him. "We got lucky not to get attacked, but Gren here and me, our caravan passed what was left of another one attacked by Trolls."

"It used to be easy money escorting caravans on this route, but not anymore," the bearded man, Gren, said sourly. "Them Trolls have made a sure thing not so sure anymore."

Most of them growled in agreement of that. No sane man wanted to fight a Troll.

"What about the local garrisons?"

"The nearest garrison is at Salimon," the burly man said. "That's a tenday south of here, and they're all too scared to come out of their barracks."

Tarrin paused to consider it. There were respectable numbers of them, they focused on the Sandshield, but they were patrolling out to five days' walk from the mountains. That was everything that he needed to know. That also satisfied all the questions that he told them men he'd been sent to ask, so he had no real reason to stay now. He stood up and looked at the men, then nodded. "I think that answers all of my questions," he told them. "The Tower thanks you for your willingness to answer, and be sure that your answers will help Arkis deal with the Trolls."

"Are the katzh-dashi going to do anything about the Trolls?" the bearded man asked.

"They already are," Tarrin replied. "Arkis isn't the only place having trouble with them. But the Trolls here will probably leave very soon, because the Tower has made certain arrangements." As soon as the Selani hit the Sandshield, he thought to himself with a grim smile. "So don't worry about them deciding to take up residence in the Sandshield."

"What kind of arrangements?" one man asked.

"You'll see," he said with a mysterious smile. He put his hood up once again, then pulled his cloak around himself. "Good day to you, gentlemen, ladies," he said calmly, then he turned and filed out of the inn in a regal manner.

All in all, that went better than he expected. He got his answers, and he also planted rumors and hints that the Tower was taking steps to help Arkis with its Troll problem. If the Selani chased off the Trolls, it very well may be that it would be seen favorably for both the Selani and the Tower. The Arkisians may be grateful that the Tower enlisted the aid of the Selani to deal with the Trolls, and the Arkisians may be less fearful of their desert neighbors when they find out that they aided Arkis with its Troll problem. It was a win-win situation, as far as he could see.