The jester had wandered the wilderness for a couple of days, the boots were indeed a blessing. He slaked his thirst at streams and sustained himself on berries. A particular cluster of green berries had set the jester in howls of pain whilst he clutched at his stomach and bouts of gas shot from both ends, but that passed as all things eventually must.
He happened across the town of Riften. He'd heard the guards, standing sentry at the great gates conspiring, on his approach - their game was extortion. However, when he had gotten closer and the guards had taken an eyefull of his garb, he was granted entry, no questions asked.
Riften had flourished, more corrupt than the jester could recall. Citizens glanced over shoulders, accusing looks passed among themselves whenever eye contact was made. Suspicion hung in the air with a hinted undertone of sewerage.
The Inn was much more of the same. Patrons swigged ale, mead or whatever else was on tap from stained tankards with an uneasy hand resting over weapons, either at their waist or on the table for all to see.
The jester saddled up on a rickety stool at the bar, he noted the legs were uneven, shifting his weight, rocking side to side...ka-dump ka-dump...
"What'll it be?" Asked the argonian barkeep.
The jester dragged his coarse tongue over his cracked bottom lip "Water...a whole pitcher of water"
"WATER!?" a voice pelted out from amongst the tables. Roaring laughter rose from the patrons. The jester tilted his head back and joined them, pounding his fists on the bar, wiggling his hips so the stool rocked ka-dump ka-dump ka-dump "Aaaaahhhaaaahahahahahaaaaaaaaa"...The laughter dwindled and died down when they saw his expression, yet he continued, clutching the air with his fingers like talons "Aaaaaahhhaahahahahhahhhaaaaa!"
"Okaaaaayyyyy, water it is" said the barkeep from beneath a spikey arched eyebrow.
The barkeep dissapeared momentarilly and returned with a clay pitcher, water sloshed from the sides, the jester felt his throat closing as he feared she might slip and spill it all over the floor. In that moment he decided that he would kill her if that happened - but all was well.
He took the pitcher with both hands and greedily gulped at the cold liquid silk, coating his bare throat, filling his empty belly. It ran down his chin as he drank. When he'd had his fill, or as much that his frail body could take...he shut his eyes and tipped the rest over his head.
The barkeep frowned at the spillage, she wanted him gone, he appeared somewhat unstable and within mintues he'd made a mess "You missed your friends y'know? they were in Riften earlier".
The jester's eyes shot open, a calm settled over him, Psijic? "excuse me?"
People talked in every town in every tavern, complaints, rantings, rumors. The barkeep explained that somebody had mentioned the sighting of another jester recently, and surely this was more than coincedence.
The jester considered this, he was let into the gates without being robbed of the very little he had. Perhaps being dressed as a jester had perks. He rocked side to side on the stool as the gears of his mind worked, ka-dump ka-dump.
"Ok, ok...what of this jester?" he asked.
The barkeep shrugged "Delvin's the man to speak to for details, there isn't much happening in this town that he doesn't know about" she explained. The jester gave her a quizzacle look and shook his head. Ka-dump ka-dump.
"You'll likely find Delvin in the ratway, beneath the town, in the sewers...he's probably there right now...hey, don't even worry about the water, it's on the house!"
The jester rose to his feet, wrinkled his nose at the barkeep and ushered between the tables, he took a look back as he opened the door to leave.
The barkeep was weilding a mop and muttering to herself.
