Two hours later the group was seated around a table at the Dancing Halfling, a tavern just inside the Eastern gate of the city. It was early evening and the tap room was full of clientele that had just finished a hard day’s work. It was clearly a working man’s tavern as most of the patrons were labourers or craftsmen, each of them content to sit with their friends and discuss the day’s activities.
Alyse’s stomach growled as she smelled the roasting meat that was being prepared in the kitchen out the back. They had ordered their meals and she inwardly cursed the staff for how long it was taking for it to be prepared and delivered. The past few days had been hard on them all, and they could do with a decent meal after having to make do with the trail rations that they’d had with them.
Unconsciously she lowered her right hand to ruffle Nancy’s fur, only to stop it half way when she realised that the wolf would not be there. The Ranger quickly blinked back the tears that formed in her eyes as she picked up the mug of ale that lay on the table before her. Once she’d rested for a day or two she decided that she would venture out into the forest and bond another companion, most probably another wolf. It would be good to get out of the city; where some saw vibrant colours and a cosmopolitan culture, she saw the bleakness of stone and the over powering smell of too many people living to close to each other.
Across the other side of the room an Elven Bard took to the stage and began to pluck at his Lyre. After ensuring that his instrument was properly tuned he started to sing a tune that Alyse did not recognise. The words were in his native tongue so she did not know what he was singing, but the melody was soothing and suited her present state of mind so she settled back into her chair to enjoy it. When the last notes of the song made their way into the night air the people in the room began to applaud the Bards performance, although Alyse could have sworn that she heard someone mutter ‘Fucking amateur’ under their breath, but she couldn’t be certain.
As the Elf began another song two bar wrench’s arrived with their orders and began to place them on the table. Her plate had barely been set in front of her before Alyse tucked into it with gusto, and she was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. The lamb was slightly over cooked but the vegetables that rounded out the stew were fresh and tasty. After she’d eaten the larger parts of the meal she used her dagger to hack a slice of bread off the loaf that was in the centre of the table, and then sopped up the gravy with it until her plate was clean. To her left she saw Grumpy licking his plate clean before he bellowed for a bar wench to bring him another serving. The Ranger then took a long draught from her mug of ale and once again sat back to enjoy the music.
After they had finished their meal Llona and Shyne bid their friends good night, although they pointedly ignored Elvis, then retired upstairs. It had come as no shock that they had chosen to share a room at the Inn and, by the hungry look on Shynes face, they wanted to make the most of it.
Despite himself, Elvis was drumming his fingers on the table in time to the music that the Bard was playing as he watched the two Elves disappear up the stair case. He shook his head in disgust at the thought of what they were about to do, causing the hat atop his head to cover the haircut that they had given him to wobble and nearly fall off. Ever conscious of his image he’d also used some of their actor’s makeup to draw on some eyebrows although, if the truth be known, all it did was make him look like one of the ladyboys that could be found in some of Candlelight Cities more expensive brothels.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the door to the Inn open and two humans, a male and a female, walk inside. Elvis knew immediately that they were from Lors.
The man was dressed in a long blue sleeveless pull over tunic with a brown belt containing a longsword in a scabbard around his waist. Underneath his tunic he wore a chain mail shirt that ended mid way down his upper arms. He was clad in baggy green and white striped trousers that were tucked into dark brown boots that ended half way up his lower leg. Long golden hair hung wildly down his back while a neatly trimmed beard framed his tanned face and piercing blue eyes.
The woman wore tight fitting black leather travelling pants and a hardened black leather vest. She also wore knee length black riding boots and protective greaves on her arms, as well as a black hooded cloak. A thin circlet of metal sat atop her brow surrounded by flowing long blonde hair.
The tattoos on her arms and face clearly identified the woman as a member of the Lorsian nobility. Many of that countries Northern aristocracy had recently began to wear ancient tribal tattoos. Some said that they did it to keep alive the old ways, while others said that it was to curry favour with the Southern Lords that had long preached that their Northern kin had grown too civilised and soft.
Elvis heard Slobba push his chair back as he stood up and began to walk towards his two countrymen. The Bard quickly stood up and, with drink in hand, hurried to catch up to his friend.
As the big Lorsian Cleric strode towards them, the man caught glimpse of him and, with this hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, took a step forward to stand beside the woman.
Slobba halted in front of them then offered his right hand in greeting and introduced himself.
“Slobbadon Mikokubich.”
“Lady Carmen Agnetha Elizabeth Memouff” replied the woman with a smile as she took his outstretched hand. Standing behind the Cleric, Elvis started to choke on the mouthful of ale that he’d just drank from his mug.
Ignoring his friends discomfort Slobba turned to the man and offered his hand once again.
“And you are?” he asked politely.
“Yorick Augustus Hunt” game the gruff reply as the blonde man shook his hand in a vice like grip.
Slobba ignored the sound of Elvis spitting another mouthful of ale onto the floor behind him.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Carmen with a raised eyebrow.
“Where do you want me to start?” said Slobba with a grin.
Authors Note: For those that are interested this post takes my total word count to just over 30,000. I honestly never thought that I'd get this far. To celebrate I decided to go back and re-write Chapter I - In The Deep End. It is much better than the original post. Check it out if you get the chance.
As long as you keep reading I'll keep writing.
Prux
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