For once, the popular image of an inn’s common-room filled with exotic and strange beings, all boisterously drinking and carousing came relatively close to the truth. It was still early in the evening but the room was filled with seemingly road-weary travellers while a minstrel, or at least someone with a lute, was playing and trying to have his singing heard over the cacophony of the room. I wasn’t quite sure which I disliked more, the smell outside, the piquant bouquet I had learned to expect from towns on Mundus, or the smell inside, unwashed humanoid with a side-note of bear and piss. That there was the distinct, equine smell of centaurs thick inside did not help my nerves in the slightest, only setting me more on edge.

Adra had moved ahead of Sigmir, and thus of me, already talking to one of the servers, hopefully securing us rooms and food. Just from the look of the common-room, I wasn’t sure we would get rooms any longer. The server gestured to the bar and Adra walked over, talking to the bartender. Sigmir stayed near the door, so I stuck with her, hiding in her shadow, trying to seize up the patrons. Would there be trouble? I remembered that there were rules prohibiting fights in a tavern but I had witnessed that those rules were broken at times, especially with my accursed special ability that turned me into a magnet for trouble.

There were multiple obvious groups in the room and I started to wonder which of them would get drunk and start trouble. My first guess was that it would be the largest group, made up from centaurs who I believed to be local, judging by their simple clothes and the lack of cloaks, bags and weapons. They simply didn’t look like a travelling group, as they lounged around a low table, pouring mugs of ale or mead down their throats. Part of me itched with a desire to slip some of the poison I had concocted into their drinks, just to see how potent it was, but no, that would be just looking for needless trouble.

Another group looked like an escort for a merchant-caravan, their clothes quite similar to what we were wearing, a mix of sturdy travelling-clothes and armour, bags and weapons nearby and a lack of tension indicating that they felt comfortable and safe. They were, curiously, the group that worried me the least, even thought I was reasonably sure that they were the most powerful group, other than maybe our group.

And finally, the last group was the one that worried me the most. They looked just like one of the centaur-patrols we had seen on the road, moving around with quite a bit of swagger and hitting the ale hard while laughing and making a lot of noise. Maybe I should use them as targets for my experimentation, if I was careful, it wouldn’t be traced to me, would it?

There were other people in the room, but none of them seemed to be part of a group or affiliated with anyone, so I wasn’t too cautious of them. Not that I believed that there were no beings powerful enough to take us down but more because I doubted that such beings would resort to tavern-brawls to achieve their goals. No, I was more cautious about some idiot not being able to hold their liquor and dragging the entire room into a brawl, potentially with deadly weapons and magic.

When Sigmir started to move, I pushed those thoughts from my head and stayed in her shadow, noticing a sudden shift in attention amongst the guards. I had a feeling that one of them had spotted me and had signaled his comrades, warning them of the concealed stalker in the room. Most likely, they considered the unknown a danger, just as I would have. Not wanting to alarm them needlessly, I slightly changed my magic, reducing the concealment around most of me but slightly increasing it over my face. I would still look a little threatening, a black-clothed shadow without a discernible face, but at least they would be able to distinguish my position without trouble.

“Will there be trouble?” the innkeeper asked, giving my form a wary eye, as we walked up.

Adra, apparently expecting the question just answered that we would keep the peace of the hearth but would defend ourselves to the full extend of our abilities. The look on the innkeeper was still rather unhappy but he nodded and gestured for us to go over to one of the tables. It was a rather small table, just fine for the four of us, and off to the side. Maybe, there we wouldn’t attract trouble.

Shortly after we were seated, a serving man came over, telling us what fare was prepared on this evening. Once again, there was stew, this one vegetable, but also the option for venison-roast, a lentil-soup and a couple other, simple dishes. After a moment of contemplation, we all ordered, in my case, I decided on the venison-roast paired with potatoes and some wild onions. It sounded quite tasty and remembering the fare served in Kolyug, I had high hopes. The others ordered their own food, curiously each of us was sticking with simple water to drink, Part of me had considered ordering the mead, at least until I remembered the last time I had done so and the hangover on the morning after.

The serving-man scurried off, telling us that the food would take a bit of time, but we shouldn’t worry. None of us was surprised by that and all of us were at least somewhat grateful to simply sit on actual furniture and relax in the warm room. It was a little warm for me but by now, I came to expect being too warm and started to understand that it was just part of my curse. I had even considered to abandon the quest to handle the soul-prison, to look for something else that would gain me the fame and power to gain something in the officially released version and move back further north, escaping the coming spring. But no, the soul-prison was my best chance to gain a lasting title or ability, so I would stick with it.

Before the food arrived, a man walked up to our table, one of the group I thought were caravan-guards. I felt myself tense up, one hand going to one of my blades while my mind took hold of the six freshly repaired weaver’s shuttles, not causing them to float behind me but making them ready to strike at the drop of a hat. The guy must have noticed the tension in the air as he addressed Adra.

“I come in peace, no need to get your hackles up.” he said, raising his hands in a supposedly calming gesture, showing us that he had no weapon in hand. Not that it worked for me, I knew that magic didn’t need gestures if you were truly good, so the raised hand could just be the guiding-tool he used for magic to blast us into dust. I doubted it, but it was possible.

Reciprocating his gesture, I took my hand off my blade but my mind was still ready to strike with my weaver’s shuttles.

“What can we do for you?” Adra asked, sounding a lot more friendly than I must have looked.

“I wanted to ask from which direction you came. We,” he gestured back to the table he came from, “are guarding a caravan going to Kolyug and wanted to know if there was trouble ahead.” he explained, confirming my earlier idea that they were guards.

“We might be able to help you, just a few days ago, we met a fellow named Korlem who was travelling a similar road. If you pull up a chair and pay for our meal, we can tell you what we told him.” Adra suggested, causing the guy to nod and do just that.

“So, what has your friend that spooked? That many bandits out there?” he asked, still talking to Adra but keeping an eye on me.

“She dislikes crowds, someone always does something stupid.” Adra waved him off, not really explaining a lot, “About the bandits, not really, there was one group but those won’t be troubling anyone else.” she continued with a smile that was just bordering on savage.

“Good to know. And yes, I can see why people might be interested in your group to the point of doing something stupid, three beautiful women travelling with a single guy?” he trailed off, looking over to Rai who looked like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to slit the guys throat or hide beneath the table.

“I go where my Master goes. And if you insult her again, it will be the last thing you ever do.” he replied, ignoring the insinuation that we were some sort of harem for him.

Sigmir looked as if Rai had just beaten her to the punch but the glare on her face was quite impressive in its own right, causing the guard to blanch just a little, raising his hands in surrender.

“Or maybe it is that you are just hot-heads. That might attract trouble as well.” he suggested, still not cowed.

Somehow, I had a feeling that it would be a long evening.