"Taipan, you alright?" He shouted, a little shakier than he'd have preferred.
Adrenaline down and the post almost-dying shivers were starting to come on. He had no idea where his knives had gone and didn't stop to look, jogging to his Shadow's side. She hadn't stopped rubbing snow into her face and Ulric was starting to become fully aware of the most intensely unpleasant odor he'd ever smelled emanating from his clothes.
"It burns like spirits in mine eyes Ulric! I cannot see! And the smell- YURK!" Her words cut off as she spewed breakfast's remains onto the snow.
That was the last straw for Ulric's stomach as well and he was forced to eject his boots from his mouth, hands on his knees.
Oh gods, the smell. It made the brood mother den smell like pine air fresheners. Acrid, dead meat smell mixed with some kind of too-sweet rotted fruit, and rounded off by intense ammonia, it pervaded their clothes, their hair, their very skin.
Speaking of which, his was now on fire. Ulric dropped to the snow to rub it on his face and hands and neck, all the exposed skin that had come into contact with the musk cloud. Blessings to all good things that his hair had grown back in.
It was fifteen minutes before the pair of them stopped scrubbing themselves with snow. Now, they were both soaked, chilled, and their olfactory senses had become, essentially, numb.
Taipan sat with her back to a tree trunk, breathing heavily through her mouth and in obvious pain. Her grimace when she opened her eyes made it clear that she couldn't go on scouting.
"I think I can't taste anymore," Ulric announced suddenly. His tongue burned slightly but there was not even a suggestion of taste or smell.
"How are the eyes Taipan? Anything I can do?" He asked.
She groaned out "They feel like they are covered in wind-driven sand, Ulric, how do you think they feel!?" she caught herself and calmed then.
"I apologize Ulric, that was not called for. I am not blinded, not permanently, but I cannot open my eyes for any duration. You will have to take the lead, and guide me. It will probably be at least a day before the worst of the effects clear." She said, softer now but still obviously pained.
Ulric patted her shoulder, understanding.
"It's fine, little lady, I get it. I'm gonna get our stuff together and start a fire, we can stop for the night here, I guess. Or, you know, far enough away from the stink ground zero." He told her.
She shook her head though, and climbed to her feet.
"No! No, Glade Chief, we should go on." She refused before explaining, "There is a village a short way away. It is small and only really visited by some niche traders or Hunters so we may not be easily recognized there.”
Grimacing against the intense chemical discomfort, she pounded a tree trunk with her fist before she calmed and finished her thought.
“It is not what we had hoped, but we can sell off our spoils and cores and take stock there. It is best we do not enter Trachn'ir like this. They will remember us, if for no other reason than the scent we bring. We are without choice now, you must enter the village with me and we will deal with any questions as discussed earlier.” The Iriel’en huntress gritted through clenched teeth.
He mulled it over. They were both cold but not freezing. It was still relatively early in the day, the Twins hadn't reached Midsunsrise yet.
"Alright, Taipan, if you think you can guide me blind, we'll do it. First sign you're struggling though, and I'm going to set you down and make camp. I'm only with you on this is because I'd rather get you somewhere safe until your eyes are recovered." He informed her.
"But first. First I'm gonna gut this bastard son of a mutant skunk and then I'm gonna make a sled to haul its ass to sell in town for whatever its worth." Ulric said decisively.
As a bonus, he tied the remains of the obsidian armadillo to the thing, those blades were scary sharp.
It was an afterthought, but he also tied a lead to Taipan's belt so that she wouldn't have to worry about wandering off the path or trying to open her eyes to find her footing. Those projects didn’t take over long and they were well on their miserable damned way before noon.
They trudged miserably through the snow for the rest of the morning, Ulric describing the local geography and the patterns on trail markers so that the woman, so familiar with these lands that, even blindfolded, that she could choose their route. It was almost eerie the way the young Elf managed to guide his course so precisely from memory of the signposts and landmarks. When they turned the final bend and saw the palisade wall of the village he breathed a sigh of relief, and then regretted it when his burned-out nose got a solid whiff of themselves. Recovering scent went away again, his olfactory nerves shot by the horrendous stench.
A few more minutes brought them trudging pitifully to the gates of the village, for which he was immensely grateful. Less so when they were met by a guard that had decided now was the time for jokes.
"Halt strangers! You may not yet pass into Seinajok, not until I have been given leave to admit you. I apologize, but these are not times for trusting strangers and, pardon my saying, something about the two of you stinks." Announced the remaining guard.
Figures. Ulric had wandered his arse all over the wooded reaches and the first village they trip across has its gate manned by the Lowlands Elf equivalent of George Carlin.
Ulric staggered to a stop, the sled continuing for a few moments before friction did its thing, and Taipan thumped into his back, not realizing he'd ceased his forward movement.
"Blasted man!" She bitched, rubbing her nose vigorously, "Warn me before you stop, or I'll start finding you with a draft beast switch!"
The guard glanced at his Shadow and Ulric rolled his eyes expressively. They shared a moment of commiseration. He understood how it went.
"I apologize for the suddenness of our visit." Ulric started, using Elvish to put them at ease. "We were not intended for your village but were accosted in the forest yonder. The beast on the sled is the creature that attacked us." He said, stilted, but with appropriate grammar.
"I have had no news in some time, what goes this part of the world?" Ulric asked, hoping to play the agreed-upon part of the roaming barbarian trader from the lesser-known tribes of the far reaches of Prespang.
Taipan had chosen this role based on his dress, indicating a successful merchant, his lack of knowledge regarding most of the finer customs or social norms, and, unbeknownst to him, his awful accent. Her Honor said Elvish bore resemblance to a land of his old world called Ice Land, wherever the hells that was, but he staunchly refused to pronounce double consonated words correctly and had no sense for tonal conjugation. As such, he would never pass for a local but was well suited for a disguise as an adept Northern savage with a penchant for making sharp deals. It was not unheard of for such to roam far and wide and many had a familiar, if pidgin, command of Elf tongues, not unlike her honor's own. So long as she was around to help cover for him, all should go well.
The guard, taking in the two and noting the heavily laden pack of the human man, his harness indicating he was the sole mover of that sled, and the overbearing nature of the Elven Huntress, decided quickly who wore the pants around here. As such, he ignored Ulric's question to address his Shadow.
"Forgiveness Lady Hunter, it has been some months since one of our Iriel'en cousins has passed through. Your kin have been flocking to the borders. Tell me, what brings you this far South of your brothers and sisters? And in such uncommon company."
Taipan, for all her discomfort and the slight curveball thrown by the guard, picked up right where they'd left off in their planned ruse for traveling disguises.
"Business, cousin. Always business. It has been many years since I spent the majority of my time in my Iriel’en home, but how goes Orlethrem? That my kin might be guarding the borders closely explains much. Times have become strange up North, less news comes across the borders in recent years and almost no word has reached us since Summers Peak." Taipan blended truth and misdirection easily, saying nothing untrue but not disclosing her identity at all.
Ulric had asked her how far she could lie about these things, when Iriel'en made almost a capital crime of lying in normal times. Her answer was simply "I need not tell an outright untruth to cover for most questions, and, besides, they are not blood kin, what do I care for their opinions?" which settled it for him. He hated falsehoods with a passion equal to the Iriel’en, but if the alternative was wading through corpses and never reaching his goals then he had to accept that you don’t always get to do what you want. Needs must when the devil drives.
"My Commission speaks truly, we came across a most uncommon monster for so close to Trachn'ir and it has left its mark on us. We seek lodging, meals, and an opportunity to set up a trade for his wares. My companion is a wilding merchant from the far reaches, newly arrived to these lands. He can barely speak without sneezing but his shares are split and we get on well, if you catch my meaning." Taipan continued, speaking as if he understood but half of what she said and nudging his arm with her elbow at the last.
It was an effort to keep his face still.
The guard appeared to take that fairly well in stride and gave Ulric a once-over. Likes them long and broad eh? Well, a pity, the lean man of typical Elven stature thought. Come to think of it, she's a tall one for her kin too, the guard mused before replying.
"I know not when last you heard, but there is war on the horizon, cousin. Prespang, at the bidding of her masters in Prosper, has carried out vicious acts of aggression, with particular ferocity against your kin, and for the Plainsfolk. They murdered the royal family of the Lagranel in their beds and, if the messengers carry only truth, made close attempt on the royal family of Iriel as well. Your Commission should be wary lest he attract…unpleasantness." the guardsman warned.
The last thing the guardsman needed was a small riot, followed by a brief lynching. Good merchants were already hard enough to come by.
Taipan didn't need to fake her outrage much.
"Truth!? No exaggerations now cousin, you are certain? The Golden Thrones have let their dogs slip leashes to bring war again? Did they not learn how things stand the last time the Blood Moon rose over their city?" She wondered rhetorically.
The guard shook his head. That the Huntress was upset about these tidings was clear. Her partner looked none too pleased either. No wonder that. War was bad for business, unless you were robbing battlefields.
"It is true, and worse the news for your kin I am afraid. The current Lord Iriel is a child, a competent one, or so they say, but the previous Lord Bald'rt Iriel is slain, victim of the bane employed by a suicide squad of combat mages from Prosper herself. There will be no Blood Moon to put the Merchant Lords down this time. This time, it will touch us all. You see now, why I must be fastidious in my duty? I hope, for your sakes, that you are headed North. This close to Iriel herself, you were fortunate the Hunters are mostly consolidated at the borders and making ready to turn Orlethrem into a death march for the armies Prespang brings. They lost kin in the assassinations and are out for Otherkin blood, especially Humans." The guard said, revealing more and gauging the reactions of the pair.
They did not have the look of Prespang assassins, but one never knew for certain, and it would be no less than the guardsman's life if he did not take caution.
Ulric glanced to Taipan. He didn't know how far news had gotten or how it had been shared or modified towards the interests of the Iriel'en. Brighteyes had, according to this tale, hidden his father's survival, a clever move to buy the Elf time to recover and to make Iriel seem weaker than they were, a move almost guaranteed to make their enemies more aggressive. Aggressive enough to walk into traps they might not have otherwise.
Ulric commended the little guy, and hoped when the war criminal fuckers found out Bald'rt Iriel was alive it was just as the crimson magic he wielded atomized them. If Ulric didn't get to them first, that is.
He fielded the implied question about where they were headed, best that he appear his role as the merchant in question, too fresh from the wilderness to know what goings on might be happening.
"Grave news, Guardsman, but you have my thanks for the giving." Ulric accompanied that with a small pouch of minted coins from Lagranal, a small stash of which Taipan had secured before they departed.
The counterintelligence expert amongst the two of them had planned well in advance for how they would infiltrate Prosper.
The guard glanced at the coin, a check revealing a modest sum of bronze and even a silver drake, second in weight to a crown. It was not a fortune but neither was it inconsequential. That told the guard the merchant was not inexperienced in the bribing of guardsmen. It was not a mark against, no merchant worth their salt hadn't had to grease a few palms and did it smartly enough to not lose out on the deal in the long run. He chalked that up in favor of the barbarian human being what he said he was. He pocketed it deftly, the village guards would drink well on him tonight, after the Village Council was handed the pouch and they handed him twice its weight in return. Standing orders. The guardsman of over a century evidenced no change in expression at this good fortune.
"Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with the Iriel'en for a good while, my former Hunter guide excluded. Never have I had good luck negotiating with their kind and the farther from their lands I may come in the next few days, the happier I will be for it. Already we were born farther South than I prefer, but the game was dictating our course." Ulric said earnestly, for that was the Watcher's own truth.
Between the [Bloodstarves] and this most recent fiasco, they weren't as far North as they'd planned and Ulric fully expected that he wouldn't speak to another Iriel'en until after they'd returned, a solid six or seven months at the best-case scenario.
"I would not have stopped so early in the day but events recent force my hand, I cannot make for Trachn'ir in this condition. As you can see, I must guide my guide until her eyes are recovered and the rest…well, I have had better days guardsman." Ulric announced.
A gentle breeze punctuated his statement, carrying the still fresh stench of musk into the guardsman's face. He retched briefly, wondering how they weren't sick from the…oh they probably couldn't smell at all anymore, he realized.
He was starting to feel badly for the travelers. They were clearly suffering and those travel robes appeared to be coming apart even as he watched. The pair of them must have gotten absolutely soaked in the emissions of that-
For the first time, the guard actually examined the heap of remains on the crude sled. Stars above, roots below! Was that a [Shrieking Ravager]? A big bull too. He looked back to the pair and his evaluation rose substantially. Two to kill that thing? And neither one was badly wounded for it, even though they'd clearly not known about the musk the bastard things released.
His eyes traveled over the corpse noting its injuries. Burned away fur and flesh on its flanks, a deep penetrating wound with signs of poison, the Iriel'en Hunters did love their poisoned arrows, and some kind of massive clean-cut wounds on the back. The head was a blasted mess, he could see sign that the bone was melted in places. So. The huntress was likely exactly that. The man though, something was off about that one. That sword might explain some of the oddities in the wounds, especially if it carried an exceedingly strong flame imbuement. The runes on that weapon he could see over the man's shoulder gave him a feeling of latent potency. It was not uncommon to go armed, only a fool, whose foolishness was only briefly suffered, entered the wilds unprepared to face a multitude of threats. Still, that sword…The wounds on the beast…A small test was in order.
"Clearly the two of you have endured a great struggle." the guard said, stepping to the side of the gate before continuing in Human, "I apologize for the suspicion but these are hard times, come, come. The village council will speak with you in a moment, but you should make yourselves comfortable."
Ulric was surprised by the sudden reversal but noted that the second guard was returning and a few rather exquisitely dressed members of her folk were sedately approaching behind her.
He glanced towards Taipan, still pained and unable to see, and decided it was just as well to get this show on the road. The faster he got her to a bucket of water and some healing salves the better. Out of habits beaten into him for months by his Shadow, and the royal guards in their damned drills, Ulric saw the guard's knife coming before it was halfway out of its sheath as he passed by.
He stepped into the guard's knife arm, just like Idra taught him, preventing the guard from making space, and jammed it back into its sheath with his leading palm while his other hand took the guard's neck in one of the more unpleasant grips Taipan had imparted him. A little pressure and a pull and he'd have the man's trachea crushed and the blood in his carotid arteries stopped. The Lord Instinct whispered its seductions, and he felt the man's heartbeat in his fingers, beating counter to his own, slow, even. Should he kill the man? He'd volunteered for it, after all, by going for the knife. Fingers tightened slightly cutting off the pulse.
Ulric held the guard's eyes, ignoring the shouts from behind the gate, and tried to decipher what would compel the Elf to throw his life away. Calm regard met his own, certainty in duty fulfilled. Well. Hard to blame a guy for just doing his job now wasn’t it? He noticed the face starting to go slack as the lack of blood stole his consciousness and Ulric released his grip and gave him a hearty slap on the back, staggering him.
"Hey there Chief! If you want to play games, I have a set of dice. You shouldn't pull steel even for a bit of fun, not unless you know me better. The lady back there is the only one who gets to have her knife on me and we set the rules for that a long, long time ago." He said lightly but loudly, holding the guard upright while he recovered his balance.
The knife stayed in its sheath. The guard did step away from him though and rubbed his neck where the finger indents colored the skin. The first attempt he made to speak croaked and he had to clear his throat to be heard. Strong bastard.
"Hold! I was testing comrades. Just a test to judge our friends here. All is fine, they are dangerous, but not, I think, to us." the Guard yelled.
Spears, short leaf-bladed swords, and bows lowered. A dozen fellows had come like termites out of rotten wood from the buildings near the gate. These people weren't nearly as sleepy as they appeared. Typical Varda. His comrades held the guardsman's opinion in high regard it would seem, they had relaxed substantially at his call.
Oh well. Ulric stuffed the Lord Instinct back into its box and ignored it. For now. He'd wait to see if a little MDK was going to be necessary but the next time they made a move he didn't like he'd just cut loose with [Stormfire] and [Voltaic Riot] and turn the village into kindling. Taipan couldn't defend herself properly and they'd had their one chance to play games.
It appeared that the Guard's words definitely held some sway, the additional reinforcements sort of diffused back into the village with casual stealth. Definitely, not a good idea to wade into a kill box, he'd stand back and set as much shit on fire as possible and let them come to him if it came to it.
Ulric directed his attention to the guard that had started all of this commotion. "So, you want to tell me why you decided to do something stupid friendo?" He said quietly.
The guard had stopped rubbing his neck and leveled an even gaze on Ulric.
"You are more than you say, even if you are not lying to me. I spoke no lie, these are dangerous times and I am responsible for my people's safety.” The guard told him, surprisingly up front about the whole thing.
“It would be a failure if I did not assess strange circumstances as are brought by you and your partner. For now, you could have killed me and chose not to, even if you looked like you wanted to for a moment. It tells me that you and your partner likely did, in fact, kill that beast and are not part of a Prespang death squad who slew it for you and slathered you in its juices to act as a cover. Such has happened before, but you are no coward, and barbarians are not without their reputation for fighting." the Guard explained, not remotely apologetic.
They were interrupted when the snazzily dressed dudes approached to stand behind their guards. Ulric wasn't sure how this was going to go so he decided to just be cool. Until cool wasn't going to be an option anymore.
"Travelers! You are come to Seinajok, of the Celestin Elves. I see you have been greeted by good Joldir. Please excuse him, he is a fine man and takes his duties seriously." The first part of that had the intonation of a ritual greeting and all the council members said it in chorus.
Weird. That last bit though that was the woman in the middle, the one with the little grapevine circlet.
"What business do you seek with us travelers?" Grapevine questioned.
Ulric was cut off when Taipan, who didn't exactly know what was happening but was reaching her boiling point regardless, started raising cane.
"I will make my business the hiding of every sap sucking one of you if you do not get out of the way and show me to a bath! Mark my words Celestin!" Taipan yelled venomously, beginning to lose her composure.
Ulric turned to see her striding past him and took her arm gently, holding her so that she didn't try to run over the village council, and tried to make peace. She punched him in the ribs softly enough to let him know her displeasure but without the extended knuckle that would make it hurt. Well, hurt badly, he grunted reflexively when her not so little fist struck him.
"It has been a long road, I apologize for my guide's temper.” Ulric pacified, though he was not exactly a happy camper either just right now, “You must understand, we are both of us at wits end and she gets…cranky…when she feels slighted. We told your man before, but we are here to recover from our encounter with the monster on that sled behind me and to, if you are willing, trade for some of the supplies gathered from the less tame regions of the wilds. We did not intend on coming this way at all, but my fair Huntress guide said that a kindly village would be far closer and I tire of hauling this beast." Ulric declared again.
The villagers looked to one another and the odd pair of travelers.
"Joldir has declared you mean no ill. Will you abide by the laws of this village while you reside and leave us in peace when you depart?" Asked grapevine, the last bit chorused again by the rest of the council.
That there's some real children of the corn shit, they gotta stop doing that Ulric thought.
"Thrice I say and done: All we want is lodging, and to lighten our packs. And, I suppose, new traveling clothes if they may be obtained. Ours have been rendered unfit for further use. A shame. The trader assured me that the Iriel'en fabrics were passing rare and charged me in that vein, but I am afraid that they are quite ruined by this beast's fluids. We will abide by any tenants my guide assures me are appropriate and will leave you the better for our passing through, unexpected though this stop was." Ulric declared.
"Joldir?" deferred Grapevine to the guard Ulric had choked.
"Let them in, Counselors, before the Huntress starts declaring blood debts and swearing she'll stitch our skins for a bed roll. Besides, if they slew that [Shrieking Ravager] we'll lose more stopping them than if they'd just left on their own. I'll keep an eye on them, if it gives you comfort." The Guard answered, somewhat generously.
"Then you are welcome to Seinajok travelers. May you find repose." Intoned the Counsel before turning to leave the odd pair standing at the gate.
Ulric was putting this day second in Worst Motherfucking Days Ever. Right behind getting Burninator'd.
Gods' blood he was tired.
"Gods' blood am I tired. Taipan, hang out next to our gear and I'll get us an accommodation. We'll get you something for your eyes as soon as we can." Ulric commanded his Shadow, slipping back into their old habit.
"And don't cut anyone, I know you're in pain but we're still kind of under the radar here." He said, quietly, as he left.
"Don't cut anyone he says." She grumbled before shouting at his back "Mine eyes will be fine! What I want is a damned bath and rid of these stinking clothes!"
"Ihr Wunsch ist mir Befehl, Madam" Ulric called loudly enough that he knew she heard, even if she didn't know what he said.
He'd repeated that particular phrase often enough to her when she was being imperious that she probably had some idea what it meant but was too proud to ask for a translation. She knew by his too polite tone that it was something sarcastic.
Now, to find an inn. It was, according to Taipan, customary to hang a sign from an Inn with a painted caricature of the name of the establishment to indicate that it was a traveler's abode. Other shops and businesses would likewise be indicated by symbolic signage above their doors. He was still working on reading and writing in Elvish and these different folks had dialects, even some of their pronunciation sounded off in his ears when they spoke, so used to Iriel'en was he. So it was that he roamed through town for a good few minutes before he found a sign post indicating the correct establishment, noting that the guardsman had followed from a respectful distance. His sidekick had remained behind to keep an eye on Taipan.
As Ulric stepped inside he was reminded again of the Elven tendency to lean into curving organic architecture. The low roofed interior, wide beams supporting slats that were roughhewn, was cozy. A hearthfire burned cheerfully in the surprisingly large common room, beckoning him to its smooth river stone to bask in the radiant heat. Four or five sturdy tables of some hardwood were occupied by Elfin forms, many with food and drink at hand, and a few games of chance were being enjoyed from the smooth sanded wooden floor. The decoration was less…profligate here he supposed, slightly less baroque, but the simpler carvings and embellishments were no less meticulously done. All told, he rather liked the laid back atmosphere.
He stepped up to a sturdy, wide, counter with gleaming polished top, and a different color and pattern of grain, indicating a lumber not common to Iriel. Manning the counter was a She-Elf who was the shortest he had encountered yet. She barely rose above the counter top and her impassive gaze stared up at him from around his sternum. It took him a moment to register her and he was convinced she was a child at first until he noticed that she had the regular curvature. She cleared her throat. Loudly. Ah, oops.
"Err, excuse me, Missus, I have need of a room for a couple of days, can you provide?" He asked, trying to be as harmless as possible.
She took him in briefly and immediately covered her nose.
"Not stinking like that, I won't." She declared before jerking a thumb towards her other guests, many of whom had turned to find the source of the olfactory disturbance.
"There's baths but I'm gointa have one hauled out by the stables and ye'll rightly scrub whatever the hells ye've been rolling in afore ye set further foot under mine own roof." Announced the woman, high pitched voice businesslike but nasal, since she had hers pinched shut.
He struggled to keep his expression even and to not sigh.
"Yes, thank you, a bath would be wonderful, I have a partner, she also requires a bath, would this be possible? I will pay for our stay up front, we only plan a day or two, at most, to recover from our journey and refit before we're on our way. How does three days sound? To be sure?" He offered, hoping the extra coin would perhaps mollify the diminutive Innkeep.
Her eyes considered the coin laid upon the counter top for a moment before she scooped it up with practiced ease, disappearing them into her pouched apron. He'd overpaid, as Taipan had suggested. Haggling could be risky, might only force him to reveal his ignorance and increase the likelihood he fucked something up. Also, he was desperate. The less said the better.
It would appear that the proprietor was satisfied, she stepped from behind her too tall counter and gestured towards the stairs.
"Rooms up there, yers is the front hall, third on the right. Two beds, nay sitting room, we ain't that sort of establishment here, and I'll have ye burn whatever ye're wearin afore ye enter, eh?" She said merrily, with as thick an accent as he'd heard yet.
Great. They were deep in the boonies of Orlethrem. He was actually sort of excited, he'd been thus far only spending time with the uppity up of Elven society, he wondered how the more usual folk fared. Hopefully, not too xenophobic, the point was to lay low while they traveled, not leave a trail of rumor. It was comforting that they were far enough in the wilds that people had a distinct accent, that indicated they didn't travel widely and, thus, news was less likely to get here with speed or out.
Of course, that plan was somewhat trashed given they'd entered town midafternoon reeking of whatever demons bathed in and dragging a mangled corpse behind them. Fuck it, they were doing their best with what circumstances were available.
"Of course, Innkeep. It would be my greatest pleasure to be rid of this foulness, believe me. My gear, I am lamenting that it was also given similar treatment, would you have a rather large amount of soap that I might give it a clean? It will stay outside, but I would rather not drag this smell around behind me if I can help it." Ulric asked, hopefully.
"Eh. I'll see what I can do, ye're as likely as not to be pulling the Ravager stench from ye're gear afore it falls to pieces but ye can do no less than try." the Innkeep advised briskly.
By the proprietor’s words, the beast was a known one around these parts. He'd have to ask Taipan about it, she hadn't shouted any warning about either the sound weapon it used nor had she expected the concentrated dosing of putrid substance. It was possible there'd been no time, the blasted animal was mean as its Earthen corollaries were written to be, back when there were any left in the wild. Just when he'd almost gotten over the incredible similarity between the old Earth flora and fauna they highlighted their critical differences. Mostly size and strength and, frequently, aggression, to say nothing of the magical horseshit.
"Can you go ahead and have those ready? I'll be along shortly with my companion. My thanks for your hospitality." He said, withdrawing reluctantly from the comfortable warmth inside.
He and Taipan had fairly well frozen their asses off all the way here. They'd had to scrub themselves with snow and it had proven to melt quite happily into their clothes, wetting them enough to allow the still fierce cold to strip their heat away.
The Innkeep waved away his courtesy and got on with her job, shouting for somebody named Gregor to see about a tub.
Good enough.
Ulric turned and made his way back towards the gate. It wasn't a large village, maybe thirty structures in all but it sprawled fairly widely, which made that palisade wall much longer than it really needed to be. It seemed in keeping with Elvish sensibilities to spread out though, they didn't like being packed in close together, so far as he'd been able to determine.
Every building shared the same overall sort of pattern, a low stone foundation, distinctly different from Iriel's almost determined avoidance of stone, and cobbled base that made up the first meter of the ground floor of the buildings, everything else was timber. They liked rough cuts on their exteriors, rather than the carved and finished wood of Iriel, surely a deliberate choice. Also different, they used what appeared to be fired clay tile on their rooves, curved to guide rain and snow off them, which worked, none of the rooves bore snow.
They must have shoveled the entire town free of it, come to think of it, because Ulric didn't see more than a dusting of the stuff inside the palisade.
He noticed that the windows were narrow, paned with thick smoked glass, not the stylistic wooden meshes that favored an arcane barrier against air to hold in heat. So. Lower magitech reliance in the wilds? Too poor? Too backward? Too few mages around to maintain them? He didn't have enough evidence to validate any theory so he left off of hypothesizing too much.
All in all, the village was pleasantly rustic. He wouldn't mind a couple of days here to rest up, if fate allowed it.
He found his Shadow deep in conversation with the other guardsman, woman, whatever. His own tail strode up behind him as the two women glanced up at their approach, abruptly quietening so that the approaching men couldn't hear the discussion. The pair of them had a conspiring air about them and he’d never known it to be a good thing to be the topic of discussion between ladies when they didn’t want you to know what they were talking about.
"Fuck." Ulric said.
"Meyrt." Joldir chorused.
"Taipan, you alright?" He shouted, a little shakier than he'd have preferred.
Adrenaline down and the post almost-dying shivers were starting to come on. He had no idea where his knives had gone and didn't stop to look, jogging to his Shadow's side. She hadn't stopped rubbing snow into her face and Ulric was starting to become fully aware of the most intensely unpleasant odor he'd ever smelled emanating from his clothes.
"It burns like spirits in mine eyes Ulric! I cannot see! And the smell- YURK!" Her words cut off as she spewed breakfast's remains onto the snow.
That was the last straw for Ulric's stomach as well and he was forced to eject his boots from his mouth, hands on his knees.
Oh gods, the smell. It made the brood mother den smell like pine air fresheners. Acrid, dead meat smell mixed with some kind of too-sweet rotted fruit, and rounded off by intense ammonia, it pervaded their clothes, their hair, their very skin.
Speaking of which, his was now on fire. Ulric dropped to the snow to rub it on his face and hands and neck, all the exposed skin that had come into contact with the musk cloud. Blessings to all good things that his hair had grown back in.
It was fifteen minutes before the pair of them stopped scrubbing themselves with snow. Now, they were both soaked, chilled, and their olfactory senses had become, essentially, numb.
Taipan sat with her back to a tree trunk, breathing heavily through her mouth and in obvious pain. Her grimace when she opened her eyes made it clear that she couldn't go on scouting.
"I think I can't taste anymore," Ulric announced suddenly. His tongue burned slightly but there was not even a suggestion of taste or smell.
"How are the eyes Taipan? Anything I can do?" He asked.
She groaned out "They feel like they are covered in wind-driven sand, Ulric, how do you think they feel!?" she caught herself and calmed then.
"I apologize Ulric, that was not called for. I am not blinded, not permanently, but I cannot open my eyes for any duration. You will have to take the lead, and guide me. It will probably be at least a day before the worst of the effects clear." She said, softer now but still obviously pained.
Ulric patted her shoulder, understanding.
"It's fine, little lady, I get it. I'm gonna get our stuff together and start a fire, we can stop for the night here, I guess. Or, you know, far enough away from the stink ground zero." He told her.
She shook her head though, and climbed to her feet.
"No! No, Glade Chief, we should go on." She refused before explaining, "There is a village a short way away. It is small and only really visited by some niche traders or Hunters so we may not be easily recognized there.”
Grimacing against the intense chemical discomfort, she pounded a tree trunk with her fist before she calmed and finished her thought.
“It is not what we had hoped, but we can sell off our spoils and cores and take stock there. It is best we do not enter Trachn'ir like this. They will remember us, if for no other reason than the scent we bring. We are without choice now, you must enter the village with me and we will deal with any questions as discussed earlier.” The Iriel’en huntress gritted through clenched teeth.
He mulled it over. They were both cold but not freezing. It was still relatively early in the day, the Twins hadn't reached Midsunsrise yet.
"Alright, Taipan, if you think you can guide me blind, we'll do it. First sign you're struggling though, and I'm going to set you down and make camp. I'm only with you on this is because I'd rather get you somewhere safe until your eyes are recovered." He informed her.
"But first. First I'm gonna gut this bastard son of a mutant skunk and then I'm gonna make a sled to haul its ass to sell in town for whatever its worth." Ulric said decisively.
As a bonus, he tied the remains of the obsidian armadillo to the thing, those blades were scary sharp.
It was an afterthought, but he also tied a lead to Taipan's belt so that she wouldn't have to worry about wandering off the path or trying to open her eyes to find her footing. Those projects didn’t take over long and they were well on their miserable damned way before noon.
They trudged miserably through the snow for the rest of the morning, Ulric describing the local geography and the patterns on trail markers so that the woman, so familiar with these lands that, even blindfolded, that she could choose their route. It was almost eerie the way the young Elf managed to guide his course so precisely from memory of the signposts and landmarks. When they turned the final bend and saw the palisade wall of the village he breathed a sigh of relief, and then regretted it when his burned-out nose got a solid whiff of themselves. Recovering scent went away again, his olfactory nerves shot by the horrendous stench.
A few more minutes brought them trudging pitifully to the gates of the village, for which he was immensely grateful. Less so when they were met by a guard that had decided now was the time for jokes.
"Halt strangers! You may not yet pass into Seinajok, not until I have been given leave to admit you. I apologize, but these are not times for trusting strangers and, pardon my saying, something about the two of you stinks." Announced the remaining guard.
Figures. Ulric had wandered his arse all over the wooded reaches and the first village they trip across has its gate manned by the Lowlands Elf equivalent of George Carlin.
Ulric staggered to a stop, the sled continuing for a few moments before friction did its thing, and Taipan thumped into his back, not realizing he'd ceased his forward movement.
"Blasted man!" She bitched, rubbing her nose vigorously, "Warn me before you stop, or I'll start finding you with a draft beast switch!"
The guard glanced at his Shadow and Ulric rolled his eyes expressively. They shared a moment of commiseration. He understood how it went.
"I apologize for the suddenness of our visit." Ulric started, using Elvish to put them at ease. "We were not intended for your village but were accosted in the forest yonder. The beast on the sled is the creature that attacked us." He said, stilted, but with appropriate grammar.
"I have had no news in some time, what goes this part of the world?" Ulric asked, hoping to play the agreed-upon part of the roaming barbarian trader from the lesser-known tribes of the far reaches of Prespang.
Taipan had chosen this role based on his dress, indicating a successful merchant, his lack of knowledge regarding most of the finer customs or social norms, and, unbeknownst to him, his awful accent. Her Honor said Elvish bore resemblance to a land of his old world called Ice Land, wherever the hells that was, but he staunchly refused to pronounce double consonated words correctly and had no sense for tonal conjugation. As such, he would never pass for a local but was well suited for a disguise as an adept Northern savage with a penchant for making sharp deals. It was not unheard of for such to roam far and wide and many had a familiar, if pidgin, command of Elf tongues, not unlike her honor's own. So long as she was around to help cover for him, all should go well.
The guard, taking in the two and noting the heavily laden pack of the human man, his harness indicating he was the sole mover of that sled, and the overbearing nature of the Elven Huntress, decided quickly who wore the pants around here. As such, he ignored Ulric's question to address his Shadow.
"Forgiveness Lady Hunter, it has been some months since one of our Iriel'en cousins has passed through. Your kin have been flocking to the borders. Tell me, what brings you this far South of your brothers and sisters? And in such uncommon company."
Taipan, for all her discomfort and the slight curveball thrown by the guard, picked up right where they'd left off in their planned ruse for traveling disguises.
"Business, cousin. Always business. It has been many years since I spent the majority of my time in my Iriel’en home, but how goes Orlethrem? That my kin might be guarding the borders closely explains much. Times have become strange up North, less news comes across the borders in recent years and almost no word has reached us since Summers Peak." Taipan blended truth and misdirection easily, saying nothing untrue but not disclosing her identity at all.
Ulric had asked her how far she could lie about these things, when Iriel'en made almost a capital crime of lying in normal times. Her answer was simply "I need not tell an outright untruth to cover for most questions, and, besides, they are not blood kin, what do I care for their opinions?" which settled it for him. He hated falsehoods with a passion equal to the Iriel’en, but if the alternative was wading through corpses and never reaching his goals then he had to accept that you don’t always get to do what you want. Needs must when the devil drives.
"My Commission speaks truly, we came across a most uncommon monster for so close to Trachn'ir and it has left its mark on us. We seek lodging, meals, and an opportunity to set up a trade for his wares. My companion is a wilding merchant from the far reaches, newly arrived to these lands. He can barely speak without sneezing but his shares are split and we get on well, if you catch my meaning." Taipan continued, speaking as if he understood but half of what she said and nudging his arm with her elbow at the last.
It was an effort to keep his face still.
The guard appeared to take that fairly well in stride and gave Ulric a once-over. Likes them long and broad eh? Well, a pity, the lean man of typical Elven stature thought. Come to think of it, she's a tall one for her kin too, the guard mused before replying.
"I know not when last you heard, but there is war on the horizon, cousin. Prespang, at the bidding of her masters in Prosper, has carried out vicious acts of aggression, with particular ferocity against your kin, and for the Plainsfolk. They murdered the royal family of the Lagranel in their beds and, if the messengers carry only truth, made close attempt on the royal family of Iriel as well. Your Commission should be wary lest he attract…unpleasantness." the guardsman warned.
The last thing the guardsman needed was a small riot, followed by a brief lynching. Good merchants were already hard enough to come by.
Taipan didn't need to fake her outrage much.
"Truth!? No exaggerations now cousin, you are certain? The Golden Thrones have let their dogs slip leashes to bring war again? Did they not learn how things stand the last time the Blood Moon rose over their city?" She wondered rhetorically.
The guard shook his head. That the Huntress was upset about these tidings was clear. Her partner looked none too pleased either. No wonder that. War was bad for business, unless you were robbing battlefields.
"It is true, and worse the news for your kin I am afraid. The current Lord Iriel is a child, a competent one, or so they say, but the previous Lord Bald'rt Iriel is slain, victim of the bane employed by a suicide squad of combat mages from Prosper herself. There will be no Blood Moon to put the Merchant Lords down this time. This time, it will touch us all. You see now, why I must be fastidious in my duty? I hope, for your sakes, that you are headed North. This close to Iriel herself, you were fortunate the Hunters are mostly consolidated at the borders and making ready to turn Orlethrem into a death march for the armies Prespang brings. They lost kin in the assassinations and are out for Otherkin blood, especially Humans." The guard said, revealing more and gauging the reactions of the pair.
They did not have the look of Prespang assassins, but one never knew for certain, and it would be no less than the guardsman's life if he did not take caution.
Ulric glanced to Taipan. He didn't know how far news had gotten or how it had been shared or modified towards the interests of the Iriel'en. Brighteyes had, according to this tale, hidden his father's survival, a clever move to buy the Elf time to recover and to make Iriel seem weaker than they were, a move almost guaranteed to make their enemies more aggressive. Aggressive enough to walk into traps they might not have otherwise.
Ulric commended the little guy, and hoped when the war criminal fuckers found out Bald'rt Iriel was alive it was just as the crimson magic he wielded atomized them. If Ulric didn't get to them first, that is.
He fielded the implied question about where they were headed, best that he appear his role as the merchant in question, too fresh from the wilderness to know what goings on might be happening.
"Grave news, Guardsman, but you have my thanks for the giving." Ulric accompanied that with a small pouch of minted coins from Lagranal, a small stash of which Taipan had secured before they departed.
The counterintelligence expert amongst the two of them had planned well in advance for how they would infiltrate Prosper.
The guard glanced at the coin, a check revealing a modest sum of bronze and even a silver drake, second in weight to a crown. It was not a fortune but neither was it inconsequential. That told the guard the merchant was not inexperienced in the bribing of guardsmen. It was not a mark against, no merchant worth their salt hadn't had to grease a few palms and did it smartly enough to not lose out on the deal in the long run. He chalked that up in favor of the barbarian human being what he said he was. He pocketed it deftly, the village guards would drink well on him tonight, after the Village Council was handed the pouch and they handed him twice its weight in return. Standing orders. The guardsman of over a century evidenced no change in expression at this good fortune.
"Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with the Iriel'en for a good while, my former Hunter guide excluded. Never have I had good luck negotiating with their kind and the farther from their lands I may come in the next few days, the happier I will be for it. Already we were born farther South than I prefer, but the game was dictating our course." Ulric said earnestly, for that was the Watcher's own truth.
Between the [Bloodstarves] and this most recent fiasco, they weren't as far North as they'd planned and Ulric fully expected that he wouldn't speak to another Iriel'en until after they'd returned, a solid six or seven months at the best-case scenario.
"I would not have stopped so early in the day but events recent force my hand, I cannot make for Trachn'ir in this condition. As you can see, I must guide my guide until her eyes are recovered and the rest…well, I have had better days guardsman." Ulric announced.
A gentle breeze punctuated his statement, carrying the still fresh stench of musk into the guardsman's face. He retched briefly, wondering how they weren't sick from the…oh they probably couldn't smell at all anymore, he realized.
He was starting to feel badly for the travelers. They were clearly suffering and those travel robes appeared to be coming apart even as he watched. The pair of them must have gotten absolutely soaked in the emissions of that-
For the first time, the guard actually examined the heap of remains on the crude sled. Stars above, roots below! Was that a [Shrieking Ravager]? A big bull too. He looked back to the pair and his evaluation rose substantially. Two to kill that thing? And neither one was badly wounded for it, even though they'd clearly not known about the musk the bastard things released.
His eyes traveled over the corpse noting its injuries. Burned away fur and flesh on its flanks, a deep penetrating wound with signs of poison, the Iriel'en Hunters did love their poisoned arrows, and some kind of massive clean-cut wounds on the back. The head was a blasted mess, he could see sign that the bone was melted in places. So. The huntress was likely exactly that. The man though, something was off about that one. That sword might explain some of the oddities in the wounds, especially if it carried an exceedingly strong flame imbuement. The runes on that weapon he could see over the man's shoulder gave him a feeling of latent potency. It was not uncommon to go armed, only a fool, whose foolishness was only briefly suffered, entered the wilds unprepared to face a multitude of threats. Still, that sword…The wounds on the beast…A small test was in order.
"Clearly the two of you have endured a great struggle." the guard said, stepping to the side of the gate before continuing in Human, "I apologize for the suspicion but these are hard times, come, come. The village council will speak with you in a moment, but you should make yourselves comfortable."
Ulric was surprised by the sudden reversal but noted that the second guard was returning and a few rather exquisitely dressed members of her folk were sedately approaching behind her.
He glanced towards Taipan, still pained and unable to see, and decided it was just as well to get this show on the road. The faster he got her to a bucket of water and some healing salves the better. Out of habits beaten into him for months by his Shadow, and the royal guards in their damned drills, Ulric saw the guard's knife coming before it was halfway out of its sheath as he passed by.
He stepped into the guard's knife arm, just like Idra taught him, preventing the guard from making space, and jammed it back into its sheath with his leading palm while his other hand took the guard's neck in one of the more unpleasant grips Taipan had imparted him. A little pressure and a pull and he'd have the man's trachea crushed and the blood in his carotid arteries stopped. The Lord Instinct whispered its seductions, and he felt the man's heartbeat in his fingers, beating counter to his own, slow, even. Should he kill the man? He'd volunteered for it, after all, by going for the knife. Fingers tightened slightly cutting off the pulse.
Ulric held the guard's eyes, ignoring the shouts from behind the gate, and tried to decipher what would compel the Elf to throw his life away. Calm regard met his own, certainty in duty fulfilled. Well. Hard to blame a guy for just doing his job now wasn’t it? He noticed the face starting to go slack as the lack of blood stole his consciousness and Ulric released his grip and gave him a hearty slap on the back, staggering him.
"Hey there Chief! If you want to play games, I have a set of dice. You shouldn't pull steel even for a bit of fun, not unless you know me better. The lady back there is the only one who gets to have her knife on me and we set the rules for that a long, long time ago." He said lightly but loudly, holding the guard upright while he recovered his balance.
The knife stayed in its sheath. The guard did step away from him though and rubbed his neck where the finger indents colored the skin. The first attempt he made to speak croaked and he had to clear his throat to be heard. Strong bastard.
"Hold! I was testing comrades. Just a test to judge our friends here. All is fine, they are dangerous, but not, I think, to us." the Guard yelled.
Spears, short leaf-bladed swords, and bows lowered. A dozen fellows had come like termites out of rotten wood from the buildings near the gate. These people weren't nearly as sleepy as they appeared. Typical Varda. His comrades held the guardsman's opinion in high regard it would seem, they had relaxed substantially at his call.
Oh well. Ulric stuffed the Lord Instinct back into its box and ignored it. For now. He'd wait to see if a little MDK was going to be necessary but the next time they made a move he didn't like he'd just cut loose with [Stormfire] and [Voltaic Riot] and turn the village into kindling. Taipan couldn't defend herself properly and they'd had their one chance to play games.
It appeared that the Guard's words definitely held some sway, the additional reinforcements sort of diffused back into the village with casual stealth. Definitely, not a good idea to wade into a kill box, he'd stand back and set as much shit on fire as possible and let them come to him if it came to it.
Ulric directed his attention to the guard that had started all of this commotion. "So, you want to tell me why you decided to do something stupid friendo?" He said quietly.
The guard had stopped rubbing his neck and leveled an even gaze on Ulric.
"You are more than you say, even if you are not lying to me. I spoke no lie, these are dangerous times and I am responsible for my people's safety.” The guard told him, surprisingly up front about the whole thing.
“It would be a failure if I did not assess strange circumstances as are brought by you and your partner. For now, you could have killed me and chose not to, even if you looked like you wanted to for a moment. It tells me that you and your partner likely did, in fact, kill that beast and are not part of a Prespang death squad who slew it for you and slathered you in its juices to act as a cover. Such has happened before, but you are no coward, and barbarians are not without their reputation for fighting." the Guard explained, not remotely apologetic.
They were interrupted when the snazzily dressed dudes approached to stand behind their guards. Ulric wasn't sure how this was going to go so he decided to just be cool. Until cool wasn't going to be an option anymore.
"Travelers! You are come to Seinajok, of the Celestin Elves. I see you have been greeted by good Joldir. Please excuse him, he is a fine man and takes his duties seriously." The first part of that had the intonation of a ritual greeting and all the council members said it in chorus.
Weird. That last bit though that was the woman in the middle, the one with the little grapevine circlet.
"What business do you seek with us travelers?" Grapevine questioned.
Ulric was cut off when Taipan, who didn't exactly know what was happening but was reaching her boiling point regardless, started raising cane.
"I will make my business the hiding of every sap sucking one of you if you do not get out of the way and show me to a bath! Mark my words Celestin!" Taipan yelled venomously, beginning to lose her composure.
Ulric turned to see her striding past him and took her arm gently, holding her so that she didn't try to run over the village council, and tried to make peace. She punched him in the ribs softly enough to let him know her displeasure but without the extended knuckle that would make it hurt. Well, hurt badly, he grunted reflexively when her not so little fist struck him.
"It has been a long road, I apologize for my guide's temper.” Ulric pacified, though he was not exactly a happy camper either just right now, “You must understand, we are both of us at wits end and she gets…cranky…when she feels slighted. We told your man before, but we are here to recover from our encounter with the monster on that sled behind me and to, if you are willing, trade for some of the supplies gathered from the less tame regions of the wilds. We did not intend on coming this way at all, but my fair Huntress guide said that a kindly village would be far closer and I tire of hauling this beast." Ulric declared again.
The villagers looked to one another and the odd pair of travelers.
"Joldir has declared you mean no ill. Will you abide by the laws of this village while you reside and leave us in peace when you depart?" Asked grapevine, the last bit chorused again by the rest of the council.
That there's some real children of the corn shit, they gotta stop doing that Ulric thought.
"Thrice I say and done: All we want is lodging, and to lighten our packs. And, I suppose, new traveling clothes if they may be obtained. Ours have been rendered unfit for further use. A shame. The trader assured me that the Iriel'en fabrics were passing rare and charged me in that vein, but I am afraid that they are quite ruined by this beast's fluids. We will abide by any tenants my guide assures me are appropriate and will leave you the better for our passing through, unexpected though this stop was." Ulric declared.
"Joldir?" deferred Grapevine to the guard Ulric had choked.
"Let them in, Counselors, before the Huntress starts declaring blood debts and swearing she'll stitch our skins for a bed roll. Besides, if they slew that [Shrieking Ravager] we'll lose more stopping them than if they'd just left on their own. I'll keep an eye on them, if it gives you comfort." The Guard answered, somewhat generously.
"Then you are welcome to Seinajok travelers. May you find repose." Intoned the Counsel before turning to leave the odd pair standing at the gate.
Ulric was putting this day second in Worst Motherfucking Days Ever. Right behind getting Burninator'd.
Gods' blood he was tired.
"Gods' blood am I tired. Taipan, hang out next to our gear and I'll get us an accommodation. We'll get you something for your eyes as soon as we can." Ulric commanded his Shadow, slipping back into their old habit.
"And don't cut anyone, I know you're in pain but we're still kind of under the radar here." He said, quietly, as he left.
"Don't cut anyone he says." She grumbled before shouting at his back "Mine eyes will be fine! What I want is a damned bath and rid of these stinking clothes!"
"Ihr Wunsch ist mir Befehl, Madam" Ulric called loudly enough that he knew she heard, even if she didn't know what he said.
He'd repeated that particular phrase often enough to her when she was being imperious that she probably had some idea what it meant but was too proud to ask for a translation. She knew by his too polite tone that it was something sarcastic.
Now, to find an inn. It was, according to Taipan, customary to hang a sign from an Inn with a painted caricature of the name of the establishment to indicate that it was a traveler's abode. Other shops and businesses would likewise be indicated by symbolic signage above their doors. He was still working on reading and writing in Elvish and these different folks had dialects, even some of their pronunciation sounded off in his ears when they spoke, so used to Iriel'en was he. So it was that he roamed through town for a good few minutes before he found a sign post indicating the correct establishment, noting that the guardsman had followed from a respectful distance. His sidekick had remained behind to keep an eye on Taipan.
As Ulric stepped inside he was reminded again of the Elven tendency to lean into curving organic architecture. The low roofed interior, wide beams supporting slats that were roughhewn, was cozy. A hearthfire burned cheerfully in the surprisingly large common room, beckoning him to its smooth river stone to bask in the radiant heat. Four or five sturdy tables of some hardwood were occupied by Elfin forms, many with food and drink at hand, and a few games of chance were being enjoyed from the smooth sanded wooden floor. The decoration was less…profligate here he supposed, slightly less baroque, but the simpler carvings and embellishments were no less meticulously done. All told, he rather liked the laid back atmosphere.
He stepped up to a sturdy, wide, counter with gleaming polished top, and a different color and pattern of grain, indicating a lumber not common to Iriel. Manning the counter was a She-Elf who was the shortest he had encountered yet. She barely rose above the counter top and her impassive gaze stared up at him from around his sternum. It took him a moment to register her and he was convinced she was a child at first until he noticed that she had the regular curvature. She cleared her throat. Loudly. Ah, oops.
"Err, excuse me, Missus, I have need of a room for a couple of days, can you provide?" He asked, trying to be as harmless as possible.
She took him in briefly and immediately covered her nose.
"Not stinking like that, I won't." She declared before jerking a thumb towards her other guests, many of whom had turned to find the source of the olfactory disturbance.
"There's baths but I'm gointa have one hauled out by the stables and ye'll rightly scrub whatever the hells ye've been rolling in afore ye set further foot under mine own roof." Announced the woman, high pitched voice businesslike but nasal, since she had hers pinched shut.
He struggled to keep his expression even and to not sigh.
"Yes, thank you, a bath would be wonderful, I have a partner, she also requires a bath, would this be possible? I will pay for our stay up front, we only plan a day or two, at most, to recover from our journey and refit before we're on our way. How does three days sound? To be sure?" He offered, hoping the extra coin would perhaps mollify the diminutive Innkeep.
Her eyes considered the coin laid upon the counter top for a moment before she scooped it up with practiced ease, disappearing them into her pouched apron. He'd overpaid, as Taipan had suggested. Haggling could be risky, might only force him to reveal his ignorance and increase the likelihood he fucked something up. Also, he was desperate. The less said the better.
It would appear that the proprietor was satisfied, she stepped from behind her too tall counter and gestured towards the stairs.
"Rooms up there, yers is the front hall, third on the right. Two beds, nay sitting room, we ain't that sort of establishment here, and I'll have ye burn whatever ye're wearin afore ye enter, eh?" She said merrily, with as thick an accent as he'd heard yet.
Great. They were deep in the boonies of Orlethrem. He was actually sort of excited, he'd been thus far only spending time with the uppity up of Elven society, he wondered how the more usual folk fared. Hopefully, not too xenophobic, the point was to lay low while they traveled, not leave a trail of rumor. It was comforting that they were far enough in the wilds that people had a distinct accent, that indicated they didn't travel widely and, thus, news was less likely to get here with speed or out.
Of course, that plan was somewhat trashed given they'd entered town midafternoon reeking of whatever demons bathed in and dragging a mangled corpse behind them. Fuck it, they were doing their best with what circumstances were available.
"Of course, Innkeep. It would be my greatest pleasure to be rid of this foulness, believe me. My gear, I am lamenting that it was also given similar treatment, would you have a rather large amount of soap that I might give it a clean? It will stay outside, but I would rather not drag this smell around behind me if I can help it." Ulric asked, hopefully.
"Eh. I'll see what I can do, ye're as likely as not to be pulling the Ravager stench from ye're gear afore it falls to pieces but ye can do no less than try." the Innkeep advised briskly.
By the proprietor’s words, the beast was a known one around these parts. He'd have to ask Taipan about it, she hadn't shouted any warning about either the sound weapon it used nor had she expected the concentrated dosing of putrid substance. It was possible there'd been no time, the blasted animal was mean as its Earthen corollaries were written to be, back when there were any left in the wild. Just when he'd almost gotten over the incredible similarity between the old Earth flora and fauna they highlighted their critical differences. Mostly size and strength and, frequently, aggression, to say nothing of the magical horseshit.
"Can you go ahead and have those ready? I'll be along shortly with my companion. My thanks for your hospitality." He said, withdrawing reluctantly from the comfortable warmth inside.
He and Taipan had fairly well frozen their asses off all the way here. They'd had to scrub themselves with snow and it had proven to melt quite happily into their clothes, wetting them enough to allow the still fierce cold to strip their heat away.
The Innkeep waved away his courtesy and got on with her job, shouting for somebody named Gregor to see about a tub.
Good enough.
Ulric turned and made his way back towards the gate. It wasn't a large village, maybe thirty structures in all but it sprawled fairly widely, which made that palisade wall much longer than it really needed to be. It seemed in keeping with Elvish sensibilities to spread out though, they didn't like being packed in close together, so far as he'd been able to determine.
Every building shared the same overall sort of pattern, a low stone foundation, distinctly different from Iriel's almost determined avoidance of stone, and cobbled base that made up the first meter of the ground floor of the buildings, everything else was timber. They liked rough cuts on their exteriors, rather than the carved and finished wood of Iriel, surely a deliberate choice. Also different, they used what appeared to be fired clay tile on their rooves, curved to guide rain and snow off them, which worked, none of the rooves bore snow.
They must have shoveled the entire town free of it, come to think of it, because Ulric didn't see more than a dusting of the stuff inside the palisade.
He noticed that the windows were narrow, paned with thick smoked glass, not the stylistic wooden meshes that favored an arcane barrier against air to hold in heat. So. Lower magitech reliance in the wilds? Too poor? Too backward? Too few mages around to maintain them? He didn't have enough evidence to validate any theory so he left off of hypothesizing too much.
All in all, the village was pleasantly rustic. He wouldn't mind a couple of days here to rest up, if fate allowed it.
He found his Shadow deep in conversation with the other guardsman, woman, whatever. His own tail strode up behind him as the two women glanced up at their approach, abruptly quietening so that the approaching men couldn't hear the discussion. The pair of them had a conspiring air about them and he’d never known it to be a good thing to be the topic of discussion between ladies when they didn’t want you to know what they were talking about.
"Fuck." Ulric said.
"Meyrt." Joldir chorused.
