Ch. 16
“Frick”
We travel down the road for what I assume is like a century but given that the horses are not even tired I guess it hasn’t been quite that long. Even though it feels like it. That may be more so because I feel like my stomach is trying to eat itself out of my body. The aroma of the Tavern fills my nose, my soul, the closer we get to the human village of Faymore.
We finally reach a fork in the road that turns north to Faymore. Continuing west the road starts to disappear as it moves closer to the tree line that wraps back around the mountains. For a moment I feel like I can see a white shadow moving in the trees. Even with the sun high above the horizon now, starting its descent back down, the forest is still dancing with shadows in the tree cover. But I know that white shadow is my Halfy. I cannot imagine how tired and hungry he must be. I will make sure Iamys takes some meats to him from the Tavern.
Meats, I can smell them. I can only imagine what the special is today. Hopefully the blonde-haired busty barmaid isn’t there, or I’ll get thrown out for sure. According to her, I was making googly eyes at her man last and only time I’ve been to Faymore. Her man the barb, who was singing to the crowd. Even though I remember it the other way around. I cannot help that I look different from many of the women in the human village. Many mortal men take a double take, and usually Devlyn is with me, so it causes three or four takes. I wouldn’t call myself beautiful by any means, but I also wouldn’t call myself ugly. I’m smaller than your average twenty-eight-year-old woman, just merely over five feet, but don’t let that fool you. I’m fast and am a mean little thing according to Iamys. Although I am rather small, with dainty wrists and hands, that still know how to land a solid punch to the jaw even if I must jump to reach it. I’m stronger with my legs anyway, which take up most of my body…long legs, but short.
Many don’t approach me because of the mean mug that sits on my face whether I’m in a bad mood or not. I blame it on my eyes, always narrowed and hard, with different hues of purple swirls in them. The purples match the hues in my hair. Long past my shoulders now, dark like the night, but the purples shine through in different strands. Waves have started to take shape in it from years of braids, and buns. One of the few traits I got from my mother, my hair, and eyes. I only got a fraction of her fierceness though. Which should say something.
At the fork in the road, Sadar leads the way west on his tri-colored mare, and many of the scouts and guards, and all the wagons, keep moving west back toward the forest to set up camp a few miles out from Faymore. Sadar will help set up the camp and will come catch up with us later. Devlyn, Iamys, and even Zanir, at the command of Devlyn, turn south toward Faymore.
I have a feeling Devlyn doesn’t want him out of her sights or anyone’s sights until she gets more information or at all. A few of the scouts on horseback follow us. Never hurts to have some back up if needed. Many humans within Faymore pay us no mind. Faymore is a major trading spot for many that dare to be close to the endless forest. Many of the humans know there are creatures other than them around their village, the ones too scared or that despised us left the village many moons ago. Although, only the most human looking of us come to Faymore, no need to make a bigger scene than needed. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see any other interesting creatures while here.
The entrance of Faymore has a stone moon gate that is wrapped with years of overgrown vines, but not in a bad way. A few orange trees line the edges of the archway, and leaves are piled along the base of them. The moon gate is big enough for maybe two or three horses at a time. Devlyn and I reach the archway first, in front, and once we pass, it hits me.
The sound of the village comes alive. People and children talking and laughing from every direction. The pounding of feet against the still wet paved road as children run in front of us. The horses’ hooves splashing in the remaining puddles. The overall smell of the village is thankfully masked by the smell of fresh breads and meats. I can feel my stomach growl. The market is in full bloom even with the recent rainfall. We continue down the road through Faymore passing by the market stalls that line the edge of the river that flows through Faymore. The same river from the valley.
Some of the stalls are filled with spices, weapons, fresh caught fish, clothes, and much more. I fill my head tilt back as we pass the stall full of spices. Nyx, I’m starving.
We reach the horse stalls and posts near Viridian Vale Inn that connects to the Tavern. The smell of ash and smoke fill the air. The blacksmith’s shop is just around the corner. I will most definitely be stopping by there before we leave. But the smell of the Tavern is grabbing my attention. Even passed the hay and horse filled stalls.
I am off my white mare in seconds and toss the reins to Iamys before he can say anything. His mouth opens wide then closes before he motions our horses into a free stall. I’m running before I even realize it. Mud squishing beneath my boots. I make it out the horse stalls and my boots are splashing through the puddles on the paved road. Leaving muddy tracks behind me. My stomach is twisting inside. I need something other than a few scales of a fish and the buck. The blood of the buck fills my mind, the blood dripping down my mouth.
I shake my head and before I know it, I’m at the door of the Tavern. In big letters Viridian Vale painted on the brick, solid building. I look around. My counterparts are still tying and motioning the horses into free stalls. The other scouts are flanking the stalls and down the road past the Tavern. The sun is starting to move past the horizon and the lights from the Tavern are lighting up the paved road. The aroma makes me feel faint. I push through the door and straight in front of me is the blonde-haired busty barmaid…of course.
Ch. 16
“Frick”
We travel down the road for what I assume is like a century but given that the horses are not even tired I guess it hasn’t been quite that long. Even though it feels like it. That may be more so because I feel like my stomach is trying to eat itself out of my body. The aroma of the Tavern fills my nose, my soul, the closer we get to the human village of Faymore.
We finally reach a fork in the road that turns north to Faymore. Continuing west the road starts to disappear as it moves closer to the tree line that wraps back around the mountains. For a moment I feel like I can see a white shadow moving in the trees. Even with the sun high above the horizon now, starting its descent back down, the forest is still dancing with shadows in the tree cover. But I know that white shadow is my Halfy. I cannot imagine how tired and hungry he must be. I will make sure Iamys takes some meats to him from the Tavern.
Meats, I can smell them. I can only imagine what the special is today. Hopefully the blonde-haired busty barmaid isn’t there, or I’ll get thrown out for sure. According to her, I was making googly eyes at her man last and only time I’ve been to Faymore. Her man the barb, who was singing to the crowd. Even though I remember it the other way around. I cannot help that I look different from many of the women in the human village. Many mortal men take a double take, and usually Devlyn is with me, so it causes three or four takes. I wouldn’t call myself beautiful by any means, but I also wouldn’t call myself ugly. I’m smaller than your average twenty-eight-year-old woman, just merely over five feet, but don’t let that fool you. I’m fast and am a mean little thing according to Iamys. Although I am rather small, with dainty wrists and hands, that still know how to land a solid punch to the jaw even if I must jump to reach it. I’m stronger with my legs anyway, which take up most of my body…long legs, but short.
Many don’t approach me because of the mean mug that sits on my face whether I’m in a bad mood or not. I blame it on my eyes, always narrowed and hard, with different hues of purple swirls in them. The purples match the hues in my hair. Long past my shoulders now, dark like the night, but the purples shine through in different strands. Waves have started to take shape in it from years of braids, and buns. One of the few traits I got from my mother, my hair, and eyes. I only got a fraction of her fierceness though. Which should say something.
At the fork in the road, Sadar leads the way west on his tri-colored mare, and many of the scouts and guards, and all the wagons, keep moving west back toward the forest to set up camp a few miles out from Faymore. Sadar will help set up the camp and will come catch up with us later. Devlyn, Iamys, and even Zanir, at the command of Devlyn, turn south toward Faymore.
I have a feeling Devlyn doesn’t want him out of her sights or anyone’s sights until she gets more information or at all. A few of the scouts on horseback follow us. Never hurts to have some back up if needed. Many humans within Faymore pay us no mind. Faymore is a major trading spot for many that dare to be close to the endless forest. Many of the humans know there are creatures other than them around their village, the ones too scared or that despised us left the village many moons ago. Although, only the most human looking of us come to Faymore, no need to make a bigger scene than needed. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see any other interesting creatures while here.
The entrance of Faymore has a stone moon gate that is wrapped with years of overgrown vines, but not in a bad way. A few orange trees line the edges of the archway, and leaves are piled along the base of them. The moon gate is big enough for maybe two or three horses at a time. Devlyn and I reach the archway first, in front, and once we pass, it hits me.
The sound of the village comes alive. People and children talking and laughing from every direction. The pounding of feet against the still wet paved road as children run in front of us. The horses’ hooves splashing in the remaining puddles. The overall smell of the village is thankfully masked by the smell of fresh breads and meats. I can feel my stomach growl. The market is in full bloom even with the recent rainfall. We continue down the road through Faymore passing by the market stalls that line the edge of the river that flows through Faymore. The same river from the valley.
Some of the stalls are filled with spices, weapons, fresh caught fish, clothes, and much more. I fill my head tilt back as we pass the stall full of spices. Nyx, I’m starving.
We reach the horse stalls and posts near Viridian Vale Inn that connects to the Tavern. The smell of ash and smoke fill the air. The blacksmith’s shop is just around the corner. I will most definitely be stopping by there before we leave. But the smell of the Tavern is grabbing my attention. Even passed the hay and horse filled stalls.
I am off my white mare in seconds and toss the reins to Iamys before he can say anything. His mouth opens wide then closes before he motions our horses into a free stall. I’m running before I even realize it. Mud squishing beneath my boots. I make it out the horse stalls and my boots are splashing through the puddles on the paved road. Leaving muddy tracks behind me. My stomach is twisting inside. I need something other than a few scales of a fish and the buck. The blood of the buck fills my mind, the blood dripping down my mouth.
I shake my head and before I know it, I’m at the door of the Tavern. In big letters Viridian Vale painted on the brick, solid building. I look around. My counterparts are still tying and motioning the horses into free stalls. The other scouts are flanking the stalls and down the road past the Tavern. The sun is starting to move past the horizon and the lights from the Tavern are lighting up the paved road. The aroma makes me feel faint. I push through the door and straight in front of me is the blonde-haired busty barmaid…of course.
