Sirin Keel peered out from under
his hood cautiously. The tavern was filled with a warm golden glow and the
pleasant buzz of evening chatter. A roaring fire blazed in the center of the
room and threw playfully skipping shadows high onto the old walls.
The Blind Swan, that’s what this
place was called, was particularly crowded tonight. Sirin hated crowds. The
stench of dozens of sopping drunk bodies, the uproarious noise of irreverent
laughter, the moist pressure of men and women who hadn’t bathed for weeks. He
usually preferred the quieter hours just before closing, when the loudest
patrons had long since staggered home to slump into an ale bidden slumber, and
those who remained only sang mournful tunes of happier days.
But this night, the discomfort
could not be helped.
Sitting in a secluded corner of
the room, Sirin took a long pull at his tankard and tugged his dusky grey cloak
tighter about him. Although he was a welcome customer here, he did not wish to
be recognized just now.
A pretty, buxom barmaid with
bouncy blonde curls and rosy cheeks approached his lonely table with a
mischievous glint in her eye. “G’day kind sir! There anythin’ I can get for ya,
or” she perched on the edge of the worn wooden table “give to ya?” Her accent
was thick with the dialect of this small wooded town of Peredyn, and she stank
of pipe smoke and alcohol. Sirin gently pushed her off of the table.
“I’m afraid that I’m not the one
you’re looking for.” He spoke quietly, but his deep voice had a certain
commanding tone.
Undaunted by this rejection, the
girl leaned heavily on the table toward him, licking her full lips and batting
her long eyelashes, her breast heaving with drunken emotion. Her eyes were of a
warm chocolate brown, but bloodshot from too much drink.
She really was quite pretty.
Irritated at this distraction, Sirin
shoved that thought away. “I’m really not interested. In fact, I’d quite like
to be alone, so if you don’t mind-“ He gestured for her to leave. Affronted,
the wench stood and stalked off, her gait unsteady and winding slightly. Before
long, she had relocated herself to some other more willing fellow’s table. It
was a pity he could not be that fellow.
Quite suddenly, all distraction
was completely wiped from his mind. That which he had been waiting for had just
stepped into the Blind Swan. For a moment, she just gazed around the crowded
room, seemingly taking everything in, then she strode, toward the hearth.
Her form fitting bronze bodice
and black leggings revealed a lean, muscular physique, toned from a lifetime of
practice with the broadsword that hung loosely at her hip. Sirin was frankly
surprised that she could wield such a formidable weapon. Bright white scars
crisscrossed her face and the any dark skin that showed through her clothing. The
light furs that fringed her armour and tall boots, the bare arms, and the
shimmering metallic beads plaited into her long auburn hair all marked her as a
member of the Mycenalt clan.
She held her head erect as she
snaked through the boisterous people. Her lithe form seemed almost liquid as
she stepped through the narrow spaces. When she finally reached the fireside,
rather than pulling up a chair, she sat cross legged on the floor in the style
of her people and lay her blade naked across her knees. At this, those nearest
her pressed farther into their other neighbors, eager to give her plenty of
space.
Sirin leaned back in his chair
for a moment, contemplating the situation. He watched as she summoned a barmaid
and placed her order. He could not hear what it was from here. She stared
around haughtily at the other tavern goers, somehow making it seem as though
she were looking down on them even though she was on the floor. A few moments
later, the barmaid returned, and Sirin couldn’t help but smile; she had brought
a large tankard of ale and a nearly raw goose leg. The Mycenalt people were
notorious for being uncivilized and barbarous.
After watching her for a few
moments more as she drank deeply and tore into her meat with nothing but her
teeth, he stood, tossed a few Derrits onto the table to pay for his drink, and
strode out into the dark.
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