Trouble at the Inn

Once the pair make it to the river, Tanitha gently places her bag onto the ground. She starts with taking off her gloves, hooded cloak, and her mask. “Woah, what are you doing?!” Vahkul croaks as soon as she begins to untie the strings on the side of her top. She raises a brow and looks from herself to the river. “Okay, that much is clear. But can I get a warning next time?”

Is that the faint outline of a blush growing on his cheeks? Her brows furrow as she begins to wonder. Continuing to force her top apart, she questions him, “Have you never seen a woman’s body before, beetle? I know you said those of your coven practiced celibacy, but I didn’t peg-”

He covers his eyes with his filthy hand as he interrupts her. “The details of my intimate life are none of your concern! Just- Just have a little modesty will you?” The word rolls off of his tongue without hesitation, but Tanitha can’t help but think that he’s making it up, for it’s not a word she’s ever heard before. She continues to remove her clothes, her eyes rolling at his absurdity. Never in her life has she come across a warrior this sensitive about the natural state of a body.

“Now is your chance to bathe, beetle. I don’t know when you’ll get another.” That is all she says to him as she takes off her bottoms.The woman opts to keep the band around her arm on. She digs into her bag, pulling out the necessary tools, then walks towards the calm and glistening river, her clothes in hand. After dipping them into the water, she rubs them with a bit of wood ash then rinses and rings them out.

She’ll leave them to dry for an hour. It shouldn’t take her much longer than that to plan out their route. After doing this, this lays her clothes along the bank and walks into the river. She cringes when the first rush of cold water laps over her grungy skin, but the goosebumps soon leave once she begins to rub herself down with more ash. She rinses, taking only a moment to come to the decision that she shouldn’t worry about washing her hair.

Vahkul has yet to face her, but she’s fine with him keeping an eye out for any straggling souls. “Here.” She walks out of the river and places the remainder of her ash in his hands. The man shakes his head at her. “If you won’t wash your entire body, then at least wash your hands. You don’t wear gloves... which is a mistake that can be fatal here.” The forests are teeming with poisonous foliage.

Considering her words, he walks to the river and washes his hands like a good little boy. A smile takes over Tanitha’s face. If he keeps acting like this, she just might begin to like him. Going to sit on a nearby rock, she watches as the unrelenting heat forces the remaining droplets of water clinging to her skin to evaporate. She wonders how it can be so hot when the sun hasn’t been seen for quite some time.

She hears Vahkul sigh from behind her. “Will you put some clothes on? Please?”

Tanitha faces the man while untucking the tail of her braided bun, unraveling her savagely curly locks in the process. The lack of tightness at the base of her skull feels both relieving and foreign. The woman shakes her head. “I need to dry off first. What good would getting my clothes wet do? And why are you so worried about what I’m doing?" She pauses as she attempts to pull her fingers through her tangled hair. "You know what? How about you make yourself useful and find us something to eat. You ate up all of my rations, it’s time you replenish them.”

The druid scowls and doesn’t move from his spot. Tanitha raises her head to stare at him. “Did you not hear me?”

Vahkul purses his lips before answering. His response is so low and so rushed that she doesn’t catch it. It doesn’t help that she can barely understand his disgustingly foreign accent. “What?”

The man looks down, attempting to avoid her eyes, not that he needs to. She hasn’t and won’t be making eye contact with him for a good while. “I... I don’t know how to hunt. There, I said it.” Nature fills the unnatural silence between the pair before her laughter occupies its place.

The man grunts at her response, but her eyes have already begun to burn and her stomach has already begun to ache. The men of her clan begin learning to hunt when they’re three, usually just imitating the motions of their parents. She learned when she was eight, and he tells her that he, a warrior, does not know how to find and kill a single measly animal.

“But-” She chokes on an escaping giggle. What kind of man is he? “But you were in the Velsh army, weren’t you? How is it that a man in an army has never learned to hunt?”

Vahkul kicks at the ground, his teeth grinding together as she watches him. “It’s Velish.” He answers. “Not Velsh. When you refer to something of the empire, the correct term is Velish.” Tanitha holds up her hands mockingly, her grin taking up all of the real estate on her face. “And druids-” He looks to his hands. “A druid’s duty is to life, not death. I joined the Velish army as a medic, to save lives. Not to take them.”

She sucks at her teeth, for his answer has snatched the joy right out of her chest.

Her skin is dry, so she stands and riffles through her pack for an extra set of clothes. They’re identical to the first. The pants are skin tight yet breathable, and her top is nothing more than two bands of animal skins sewn together at her sides. She re-braids her waist length hair, leaving a small tail out to cover her neck, then ties a new mask against her face.

Her gloves have dried quickly, so she tugs them on as well. Inside of her pack, she locates one of her favorite purchases from the train. Holding the handle firmly in her hand, she sends that closed fist flying in what could have been a low punch. Wood springs out from hidden places until a solid and sturdy hunting spear is fully formed in her hand.

Vahkul gapes. “How is that possible?”

She smiles a nasty wicked thing. “These are the wildlands, home of the wicked and the impossible.” She waves him forward. “Now come. You might as well learn a thing or two.” She takes off before he can give her any lip, and he’s following behind soon after.

They eat breakfast in silence. Well, Tanitha is silent. Vahkul, on the other hand, finds it necessary to attempt to ask her every question under the sky. Attempt is the right word to use only because Tanitha offers him no answers, and unless he finds it in himself to start paying her, he will never receive any answers. She watches as he smiles contently at the little spread that they managed to gather.

All that was in the area were a few rabbits, so they made do with kebabs and what remained of her bread and cheese. She snuck a few chomps of her favorite deadly red dessert while Vahkul was washing his hands, so she’s feeling pretty damn good right now. Tanitha had planned out the route in her head, taking care to make a few detours, not only so she could drag a few extra coins out of the druid, but for safety reasons.

There are territories that they must avoid. There are people that she must avoid.

Vahkul stretches and rubs at his stomach. “Who knew such cute little animals could taste so delicious?” He lets loose a yawn. She thinks back to thirty minutes ago, when he almost began crying while watching her skin the rabbits.

With a loose smile, Tanitha adds, “It’s always the adorable ones that make the best meals.” She raises and lowers her eyebrows at him until he looks away, the normal red tinge getting just a bit deeper on his face. Standing, she declares, “Lets get going. We’ve wasted enough daylight.” The druid nods, continuing his stretching.

Before they can go, Tanitha has to disassemble their small camp. She smothers and hides any sign of their fire, then she tosses the pelts from the rabbits into the holes she had the druid dig while she worked. It doesn't take long for her to cover them and check around for anything she might have missed.

While she’s picking up her now dry clothes, she hears him gearing up to ask her yet another question. “Out with it,” She sighs. She doesn’t want the little beetle breathing down her neck for the entirety of the trip.

“It’s just... I told you my name and my story. Why don’t you extend the same courtesy?” Oh, so this is about sharing information. That’s not going to happen. Especially with a man of the infamous Velish army. He must think she’s incredibly stupid.

Tanitha ignores him.

And he finally gets the idea.

The pair traveled for approximately four hours before the whining began again. He can't take it anymore! Why is it so hot and wet out here? There has to be a pit station somewhere?! Gods! She’s never met a whiner baby in her life. They aren’t even traveling fast. They’re also in the shade, traveling along the coolest part of the southern region! What more could he want?

“ Rest... ” Rest? He wants rest? Fine! He’ll get rest, but it’ll be his coin. She growls and makes a ninety degree turn. If the map in Tanitha's head is correct, they actually aren't that far off from a hunter's inn. The continent only has three fully functioning commercial inns, all of which are stationed on opposite ends of the land and typically cloaked in concealing magic. The hunter's inn is a typical pit stop for travelers during the gathering season, which would be now. If they're lucky, they'll be able to access it. If they're smart, they might even be able to stay the night without any trouble.

That last wish likely won't come true though.

The druid follows slowly behind her. In no less than twenty minutes, they come across the inn. The round house stands two stories tall. The rain had left the path towards the building and the walls a bit sodden. Tanitha points to it and from the look on Vahkul’s face, one would assume she’s just told him that they’re being blessed by the Gods. “Thank God!” He heaves a little, now bracing his hands on his knees. "Wait, you have hotels here?"

Her eyes roll. She's actually quite surprised that he can see the dwelling. That means that anyone who stumbles this way can see it. The inn must not be doing well, financially, if it's opening its doors to any poor soul that walks along. Tanitha wonders who's jurisdiction this land falls under, and what that warlord's opinion might be on this new open door policy. "Yes, our inns are relatively safe for natives. You'd likely be beaten before served." He heaves again, nodding.

How can he be so out of shape? Tanitha shakes her head at him, disappointed, but she still pats his side. If this is any indication of the type of people the esteemed empress has in her army, she’s not so sure the ruler will win this war she’s raging. Tanitha continues onward. “I’ll... I’ll be right behind you,” She hears called out from far behind her.

Whatever, she doesn’t need him to get the room anyway. Raising her hand, she grins at the few silver coins she had just swiped from him. During their time in the cave, Vahkul had kept his hands awfully close to one particular pocket on his chest. Tanitha had an eye on it, and it seems she’s been rewarded for her grand observational skills.

Looking at the raised surface of the coins, she shrugs. Silver is silver, no matter what is stamped on the tiny plates.

Walking in, the scent hits her first. It smells of alcohol, sweat, and mud. Looking around, she notices that the wooden pillars are bowed. The ceiling looks like it'll cave in at any moment. Good enough for her. She walks to the innkeep, who happens to be behind the counter of the nearly decimated bar. He only looks up for a second from the wooden sculpture he's whittling, barely taking in the woman’s hooded expression. “Rooms are two pieces a night,” He says in Talagrek. She snorts.

He must think her an idiot. “I’m not some stupid little moony. One piece for a night.” She slides two across the counter. “And the the other for your silence.” His head raises as Vahkul comes in, his white hair shinning against the dull light of the many lit candles. The innkeep purses his lips, his eyes flashing.

Tanitha can see a familiar bubbling of disgust traveling up his throat, but he takes the coins anyway, groliths are known to be greedy little bastards. She just hopes this one also has tight lips. “You’re in three, plague whore.” He says the last part as he walks away, likely expecting her not to hear. Her eyes roll. As if he didn't just accept this plauge whore's coin? She supposes she can't fault him for his opinion though. If not for the gold she was planning on scraping from the druid, she certainly would be sitting at this bar thinking the same thing.

Mainlanders, especially the smazers, are all nasty sentimental weirdos. And anyone that associates with them are nearly as bad. She almost curves her shoulders in, so that no one will notice her, but then she remembers who she is. She remembers what she is.

Vahkul looks around for a moment before finally spotting her. He slinks around the chairs and tables, his shoulders hunched and his face closed off. Tension rises as patrons catch sight of his ungodly bright hair. Everyone who isn't living under a rock, which isn't as many as most would think, has heard of the mainland's abominations. They have also heard of the dark empress that rules them. They know that she is the one responsible for the recent surge of foreigners and dead bodies piling up. Vahkul will need to start wearing a hood.

Tanitha’s head cocks as she watches him. He can tell that he is unwanted here.

How interesting.

She tilts her head towards the stairs when he reaches her. “Room three. You rest. I’ll be down here if you need anything.” He holds his hand out, as if waiting for something.

“The key?” He inquires.

“The door shouldn’t be locked. If anyone is in there, kick them out.” She turns away and taps on the bar. Her head is a bit fuzzy, but other than that, she’s feeling fairly good. The woman holds up a finger at the innkeep, and he nods. She’ll have a few drinks before she goes up. She’ll surely need the extra help sleeping.

The man brings her cup just as she’s taking a seat in a nearby stool. Her gloved finger drags along the uneven and splintery surface of the counter as she takes her first sip. The drink tastes of everything bitter in the world, which is oddly fitting. Tanitha takes a moment to look around. The bar itself smells of wet wood and spirits, funnily enough. There’s one other person sitting at it, near the very end close to a small window.

He wears a black cloak lined with red thread that travels the full length of his body. Tanitha has never seen anything like it before. The fabric almost looks fluid. His hood is pulled up, masking his features, but she’s willing to bet that they’re strong and sharp. Maybe... She shakes her head. “Not tonight,” She mutters to herself, taking another sip. Once she dumps the druid as close to Velish coastlines as she dares to travel, maybe she will find someone to spend her drunken nights with.

Not a minute before.

Still, she continues to stare at him from under her own hood. His hand snakes out to grab his mug. Tanitha can see the man pause, as if sensing something, but she’s become too focused on something else. It could be just a trick of the light.

Gods, she hopes it’s just a trick of the lights.

But she swears that she sees a slight red tinge to the skin of his pale hand. She downs the rest of her drink. She won’t be sticking around to figure out what a smazer is doing so far from the coast. The woman almost curses the greedy little innkeeper. She should have known better that to think that he wouldn't allow a few other unsightly patrons, especially given how tense the atmosphere had been when she first entered.

There’s a weight on her shoulder just as she begins to leave her spot. She can feel the heavy presence behind her now. Why hadn't she sensed it earlier? “Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice is gruff and hoarse, like it hasn’t been used in ages. And that accent... it’s nastier than Vahkul’s.

The man she had previously been watching puts down his mug, sliding a coin across the bar before he starts walking their way. Tanitha curses in her head. They never should have come here. She knew they shouldn’t have stopped. One would think that she would learn to listen to her common sense more, since it’s gotten her this far in life. She had just hoped that the innkeep would have a little more sense to allow other foreigners into his place.

Dirty money hungry snake.

She has a throwing dagger in the leg of her boot, but with his hands holding her shoulder, there’s no way that she can get to it. The woman looks around the bar. There are a few of the normal patrons that you’d spot in an inn like this. Mostly big and burly trions sit scattered around. They laze with their hunting weapons in their laps and their mugs to their lips. Trions aren’t known for being particularly keen creatures. Perhaps they can help her.

Tanitha licks her lips, her mask scratching against her jaw due to the movement. “Hello boys,” She greets them. She can feel the slight surprise at the fact that she can speak their common tongue. It would seem that they think the natives of these lands pay absolutely no attention to them, even when they’ve started to settle on their coasts.

Now that she thinks about it, Vahkul has never questioned her knowledge of his language. That’s an inquiry for another time, she supposes. Eyes have started to look their way, and she can tell that it’s making them uncomfortable. “Get up and come with us,” The one behind her orders.

It takes a moment for her to actually wade through the tight-lipped accents, but when she does, she springs into action. Forcing her bottom lip to wobble and her voice to go higher, she screeches, “Please!” She shoots from her stool, the man's hand dropping from her shoulder. “I am only fifteen years old! Please!” She screams the second half in Talagrek so that those listening in can understand. She lets the patrons draw whatever conclusions they wish, as they too shoot up, looking for any reason to pick a fight with the intruders.

The sound of steel being drawn is music to her ears.

Tanitha pulls her mask up as the trions around her begin to draw their own weapons. “Is there problem? ” Someone asks.

Backing up towards the stairs, she hears a retort, “Not if you stay out of our business.”

There’s a laugh as she reaches the first step, forgotten just like that. “No business here, diseased pig.” The insult is hurled with such hate, with such venom that the two mercenaries find that they can no longer hold themselves back.

The man that Tanitha had been eyeing draws twin blades just as the pair throw themselves into the fight. She twists, not waiting to see the outcome, and runs for the room. Smashing through the door, she shouts, “Up now! Out of the window, hurry!” For once, Vahkul asks no questions.

He merely jimmies the window open and flies out like his life depends on it. Tanitha barricades the door with an armoire before sailing for the window herself. Her bag almost catches on the sill. “Keep low.” She whispers after rolling to the ground and hiding in the looming foliage. There’s shouting and screams of what she can only imagine is agony.

Then there is silence.

The pair continues low, not sticking around to hear the voices of the victors.

But she has a feeling that she knows who won this battle.