There was only a small handful of people about. They regarded Krey and Emilie with smiles, but squinted at Livia. She tried not to think too much of it; they weren’t glowering so much as they were wondering. Given the size of the place, it didn’t take them long to find a place to stay— likely the only one in town: the Apple Bobber Inn.

The town itself already had myriad scents on the air that smelled of pleasant spring evenings, but when they stepped through the oak plank door into the inn, the three were greeted by the aromas of hearth and home— honest people and wholesome food. Not that there were many people about; it was mostly the proprietor at the reception desk, and a pair of halfling maids gossiping at one of the tables in the next room, right on through from the cosy little foyer. The middle-aged calsan man was snapped out of his daydreaming by their arrival. “Oh, guests, is it? Good, good. This goddamn place could use the business. Please, come on over.” Before either of the other two could, Emilie stepped forward, deciding it would be best for her to take the lead. When she did, the proprietor raised an eyebrow at her. “Say… don’t I know you? It’s not every day I remember a guest’s face.”

“Emilie Sherasinou,” she curtsied. “I stayed at this establishment not too many moons ago, on my way to Ardour Temple.”

“It’s a good thing you started with your name, lass,” the proprietor said with a warm smile. “You wouldn’t believe how little your story narrows it down.”

“I don’t believe I learned your name during my previous stay.”

“O’fry— Harshal O’fry. Most folks ‘round here just call me Dai Keep, though.”

Livia couldn’t wrap her head around the moniker. “Why do they call you that?”

“These people are of the land, young lass,” Harshal said proudly with a raised finger, “and still speak the tongue of the land. I wouldn’t expect a pup such as yourself to know more than yes and no or hello and goodbye in those old words. Dai was once the common man’s name, and I’m both an innkeeper and a barkeep, so people call me so.” He cleared his throat vocally, thumping the varnished wood desk twice with his foot, unseen behind it. In response to this, the two halfling maids bounced up from their chairs and bumbled over to the doorway of the reception area. “I suppose you lot want rooms for the night, eh? And a meal, for that matter. I don’t have the luxury of keeping fixed prices for things like rooms and meals; for how few guests we get here, we’ve certainly seen many-a-stripe. So… why don’t we parlay, hmm?”

It was at this moment that Emilie, Krey, and Livia all realised that none of them had any money. “Well…” Krey murmured. “This is embarrassing.”

“No coin, is it?” Harshal sighed, but his smile remained, unwavering. “Well, you’re not the first. Listen, uh… currency isn’t the only currency ‘round these parts, if you take my meaning. I might be privy to a detail here or there, the kind of details that might let you pay your way with services rendered instead of cold hard cash.”

“You mean a job?” Livia’s hand unconsciously drifted up to the pommel of Veridis. “We’d be more than willing to help out around town if you let us stay for a night or two, right guys?”

“I dunno…” Harshal squinted at them. “How do I know you’ll be true to your word?

“I am a Knight Berodyl,” Krey stepped forward and proclaimed proudly. “It is my sworn duty to assist any and all who are in need.”

“And I am a hierophant,” Emilie declared, stammering at first but finding her strength of voice quickly. “It is my sworn duty to lend my ear to all who wish to be heard.”

“And I am… an adventurer!” Livia managed to splutter without too much pause. “I haven’t sworn any fancy oaths, but helping people is why I’m out here too. Besides… it’s a living, right?”

Harshal contemplated them for a time. Being the last bastion of civilisation before Ardour Temple, Acrevil - and, more to the point, this inn - had seen its fair share of the spiritually-inclined pass through— including hierophants. But what really compelled him to smile and nod was the heraldry on Krey’s surcoat. That heraldry counted for something in parts of the world still untamed, for it was in those places that this order of knights still reminded people that, without protectors like them, Berodyl would not have cities, towns, or even small villages like this one. “Take a seat, folks; Coryandr and Jayd will be over shortly to take your order.”

Coryandr, a flowerfolk halfling from Cordylia, and Jayd, a masonfolk halfling from Chitiqa, seemed to be ol’ Dai Keep’s only staff. He prepared their meals in the kitchen, and the two maids brought it all out to them. Emilie chipped away slowly and delicately at a pie full of meat and vegetables and gravy, while Krey was tearing away at steak and potatoes with gusto. Livia had ordered roasted pexur with not much to accompany it, but she had noticed that the same herbs that Emilie had used the previous night were listed in the ingredients. She decided to air on the side of caution, and eat something that wouldn’t risk playing hell with her stomach while in the middle of whatever errand she’d be running tomorrow.

“Not exactly the most adventurous things on the menu,” Krey mused between mouthfuls. “Where’s your sense of exploration, Livia?”

“Not in my stomach,” she riposted, unable to stop a smile forming on her face.

“Perhaps she is like me,” Emilie postulated, “and simply sees food as a necessity— a means to an end. Not everyone enjoys making a mess of themselves while eating.”

“I don’t enjoy the mess,” Krey pointed out, “but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.” He dabbed his mouth with a serviette and chucked it on his polished-off plate. “Speaking of exploration, I’m going to see what our rooms are like. Coming, you two?”

“I suppose someone should keep an eye on you,” Emilie deigned.

“I’ll be up soon,” Livia said. “I think I’m going to get another drink first.”

Krey and Emilie both nodded and headed for the stairs.

After pouring her a flagon of cider, Coryandr and Jayd sat with Livia, bringing over drinks of their own as well. The two little ladies were surprisingly inquisitive - bordering on nosey - but Livia was not about to reject friendly company, especially not now. She told them what she’d told Krey and Emilie, both what she’d spoken of in the camp, and how she’d described her homeland. This time, it took her longer. “Where I came from, it was very different. Settlements were not as close together as they are here, they were much further apart, separated by vast swathes of wilderness. That wilderness was covered in scarlet grass, under a sky of rosy pink, dotted with clouds of lilac. We lived in humble houses made of harlequin wood, planks of the rich, bright green inside the trees of the same name, though their bark was usually a bit more blue. I woke up every morning to the sun’s cerulean rays spilling into my room, through gently-blowing air that always tasted like the copper water flowing in the river that our town was built around. The goddess Phyrn blessed our world, and wherever she walked, the strange, green plant known as midoroot followed in her wake, the only greenery that spread across the ground like that, veins in the fields of red. Unlike here, nobody knew exactly how far Aubade stretched; some thought it was limitless, with all sorts of things far out that defied imagination. We had a… a visitor… from far away. It came from the horizon.”

Livia took another deep chug of her cider, slamming the flagon down with a bit more force than she’d intended. Jayd and Coryandr jumped in their seats, but remained enraptured by her storytelling. Livia’s voice began to slur; she’d never actually consumed alcohol before. “The only landmark for miles was Tyger Mountain. It was at the south-western end of the valley; I must’ve climbed it dozens of times. I’d look down into the valley, see the whole town down there, nestled in that shallow trough. Phyrn took me up the mountain one night, and on its peak, instead of just snow… I found this.” She stood up and slid Veridis up partially out of its scabbard, revealing the mesmerising blade.

She got through one or two more flagons of cider before finally completing her tale, and her eyes were not entirely clear by the end. “Now I’m stuck here in Berodyl. It’s a nice enough place, but… everything’s all different colours… the plants breathe differently, the air doesn’t smell the same… there are dangerous creatures everywhere… it’s all so daunting.”

“Being stranded in a strange land with no way home…” Coryandr pondered. “I couldn’t handle it! That is why I’ve ventured no further than Calsa.”

Jayd leaned across the table, raising the volume of her voice. “Don’t think of it as being stranded; think of it as… an extended adventure! You get to explore a whole new world, and hey, who knows? There could be another way home for you yet, buried deep in some catacombs or built high atop some mountains.”

“Either way, never fear, Livia. There’ll always be a burrow in the valleys of Cordylia you can call home~”

“Pff! Forget that! My family has plenty of room in our springstone mansion back in Chitiqa!”

Whatever differences the flowerfolk and masonfolk might’ve had, both halfling peoples seemed to share a warmth and generosity that brought a soft smile to Livia’s face, and instilled a warmth in her bosom.