Location: The Horse's Meadhall, Assassin's Alley, City of Horgith Veil
Time: 1 of the clock, afternoon
Date: Sunday, 12th day of the month of Snow

Weather: Cold and clear skies for the last few weeks. Temperature highs in the 50s and lows in the 30s.

The City of Horgith Veil was nestled in the side of a mountain, high up enough off the ground that the approach could be defended with few fighters. Solid and sturdy dwarven construction was married with gnomish cunning, and human ambition. Situated in the Badushel Spires, it would have been a tough nut for any army to crack before such defenses had been readied. It was a bustling and growing trade city, focused around carving metals and minerals from the rich deposits in the mountains of the Spires.

Work proceeds apace around the clock as trade goods flow into and out of the city. As such, many travelers come and go, though the steady population of the city could be estimated to be in the neighborhood of around thirteen thousand (13,000) souls.

Jenphira had passed within the city gates to the north with only a few wayward but appreciative glances from some of the human guards. The dwarves present gave her a more weather eye, noting her pointed ears, with muttered words under bearded breath about 'fool Elves' being there now. She had shaken it off with a disarming smile which faded as soon as she was out of sight. The young sorceress accosted a human cityguard for a little bit of information about the place, the various districts of the city and who was in charge. It seemed a dwarven woman was running things around here, despite how much some of her male dwarf counterparts grumbled. Despite the complaining the city seemed to be a bustling hive with great potential.

Shouldering her pack, Jen hurried her steps while quietly making sure that her weapons were easily to hand. She whispered a few words as she recalled some of her magic, insuring the spells, her power were still within reach. She would be heading into Assassin's Alley. It was a narrow warren of close-knit buildings tight streets and claustrophobic alleys. It wasn't the best lit place, and it was the kind of location one could disappear into when one wished. And sometimes when they didn't. Few questions were asked there, and your safety was more in your own hands than the city guard. Rough and tumble it could be, there was something honest in it's dishonesty. One should watch their back in that quarter.

She found herself passing shady folk, mixed with poorer families, tired looking workers covered in soot, dust, and grease. The smell of offal wages war with the distant scents of burning coal and fuel from the foundries, distant stale ale, and cooking food. From somewhere in the far distance echoing off the cavernous walls of the interior of Veil comes a high pitched whistle, sounding once, then fades away. The city had been lit in the interior by glowing golden stone orbs, but here the spacing of these lights was more sparse, the shadows deeper even in the daytime as the buildings drew closer.

Buildings rose up around her several stories high, with bits of light drifting around the edges of blinds, or orange-white rectangular pools of light in others. Here and there a few were lit with lurid red. On the street, Jen tried not to pay attention to a few street walkers that were plying their trade on their own. By the time she had closed on The Horse's Meadhall, she had passed more than one brothel, and had found herself on the receiving end of a catcall or two. She tried to ignore the rude calls. It was just the way it was in this part of the city, and she was mostly used to it.

The sign above the doorway was scrawled in Common and Dwarvish runes, with the image of a black horse rearing up on it's hind legs with a large drinking horn overflowing with mead opposite the stallion. Raucous laughter poured from within along with a relatively cheery tune as a couple of squat dwarves pushed their way past her out of the door. "Watch it," one of them drawled drunkenly then let out a great belly laugh with his companion as though it were a great jest while they toddled off down the stone street. With a sigh and a shake of her head, the girl pushed the door open after pulling her hood up to hide her ears. The less trouble because of that side of her blood the better.

As the door opened, one would be greeted with the smells of cooking lunch, afternoon ale, and a press of bodies. The room was almost hot, and wasn't entirely helped by a hearth burning low. The din of a jabbering crowd was louder, and most barely noticed the new arrival as she slipped to one side of the door, surveying the crowd, only to note the tips of horns sticking out over a booth. "How can I help you," said a pleasantly voiced human woman who held a slightly dingy bar towel in one hand. She looked a little ragged around the edges, the evidence of a busy lunch hour which was winding down.

"I'm meeting a friend," Jen said quietly, then gestured subtly with one hand toward the booth where Kriv already sat.
"Ohhhh, right. The Dragonborn fellow. He's been quite pleasant," the blonde hostess said brightly.
"Has anybody been giving him too much trouble," the sorceress asked.
"Oh, no. I dunna think so. Can I get ya anything for lunch?"
"Amber ale and do you have your stew today?"
The hostess nodded. "Aye that we do. I'll have it brought over. Be eight copper, miss."

A moment later some coin was produced and the half-elf was wending her way through the crowd so deftly most didn't even notice her passing unless their eyes fell on her, and when they did, they stared, almost slack-jawed for a moment before shaking themselves and returning to their conversation. Jen gracefully and swiftly slid into the booth opposite of Kriv, able to see most of the common area from her vantage point. "Back to the door? Really," she asked incredulously. He'd been taught better.

They'd been with their traveling troupe for a month before the group had been ambushed by the city guard in the city of Kethorp. Someone had taken a disliking to the group. Not much had been discovered, as the two of them had been force to run to evade capture themselves. They'd agreed to meet up here, in this tavern in three weeks, traveling separately to make it easier to avoid notice and evade capture. Now was the day of the meeting.

"Been waiting long," she asked, deliberately avoiding using his given name. She hadn't been followed. She'd taken the time to check. "Were you followed?" The questions were rapid fire. Hopefully he had noted if anyone had followed by now. Still, it didn't mean there weren't parties interested in their conversation.

((GM/OOC Notes: Nobody followed either of them, and there is nobody listening or really paying attention, other than stealing glances at a good-looking halfbreed.))

Kriv had arrived first. His hooded cloak, a simple grey one, hid his features under its wide covering as he had moved into the city and sought the tavern Jenphira told him about. He regrettably requested directions from a few individuals, most gruff and grumbled about his nativity before they moved on hastily. Racism was never present within the temple, all the monks had treated him as an equal. Within traveling with the troupe, their whereabouts likely locked within a dungeon within Kethorn, did he realized the real world wasn’t like the temple he was raised in. People found Dragonborn frightening and his appearance put them at unease, namely due to the fact he resembled his dragonkin so well in humanoid form.

Thankfully, a human woman took pity upon him then directed him to the Horse’s meadhall. He thanked her before strolling in, his body pressed about and shoved during the noon hour. Among all the tables, the one in the back remained untouched and in his thoughtlessness, he sat down into it. Circumstances didn’t seem to care if he was taught better.

As he waited for Jen, he stared into the opposite booth.. His eyes glazed in thought and tension spread through his scaled hid, obviously a nervous wreck on the inside. Each time he heard a clatter of chairs, his figure jerked in alarm and nearly rose out of his seat to flee. Upon acknowledging his idiocy, he gradually slide back down with a forced mental order to relax echoing in his head. His knuckles were white from his grip about his untouched mug, the liquid stirred slightly from the rumbling in the tavern.

When Jen slid into his peripheral vision, Kriv flinched. His horned skull wiper about and pure panic flooded his features, his right eye slightly purplish from a skirmish on the road. Naturally, he ran from it being inexperienced in combat and no shape to truthfully fight. His heart beated within his chest hard as he gradually loosened the worry in his figure, relaxing slowly back into his seat when he realised it was Jen. A smirk crossed his snout.

“Jen-” Kriv started to say then stopped himself, barely, from blurting out her full name. His expression became apologetic as his hand clasped over his muzzle, ceasing anymore sound. Lowering it down, he began to speak in a quiet tone. “Since noon and I don’t think so… From what I was shown, no one seems to the least bit interested in me. I tried to get another table, but this was the only one left and I was more worried if you would be able to make or I would have request a room.”

She leaned forward a little, swiping a flat hand through the air in a small gesture to cut him off. "It's fine. It's a good spot. Rather be here than anywhere else. Can duck out the back, hit the stairs, and can see the front door easily. You can watch my back from where you are," she said. Taking a look at his face more closely she noted the mottled purple, copper, and bits of green around the edges of his slightly marred face. "What about the other guy," she asked, gesturing toward the shiner. She knew he could handle himself, and was capable of a lot more than he thought he was. When he realized what he could actually do... well it would be an epiphany for him.

A few moments later one of the barmaids, this one a stout male dwarf with a ruddy red beard plaited into three braids, which were braided with each other into an interesting and artful arrangement approached. He held a tray overhead, so as not to get it bumped by a bumbling patron then lowered it as he got to them. "Here we are," he said, his voice warm with a slight burr to it. "You had the stew, lass?" The half elf simply nodded with a pleasant smile. "Good on ye. Can't stand a woman who eats like a bird," the server gruffed good naturedly. He slid over a large bowl of a hearty stew that steamed and was filled with roasted meat and vegetables. Along with it came a small basket of rolls, and a good sized mug of amber ale. "Enjoy. Can I get ye anythin' else," he asked them both. Jen shook her head. "No, but thank you," she replied, then passed him a gold coin. It was worth far more than the simple meal, even if it were high quality. But... gold was the real language of the dwarves. It would ensure further excellent service. At the gold coin, he lit up brightly. "Ohh, thank ye kindly."

Kriv looked confused for a moment at what she referred to, then it dawned on him. Gingerly, his finger raised to trace the area around his eye. A slight pain edged into his attention and caused him to hiss in reaction, his head drawn away from his claw. Gently he set it back down with an answer, his muzzle’s smirk turned into a sheepish one. “Yeah, better than myself I’m afraid. I encountered some bandits on the road and… well, I didn’t do too well and took off. Thankfully, they didn’t manage to follow me.”

He was a bit embarrassed by the situation to be honest. His horned head turned to the barmaid coming their way and folded his arms upon the table, watching the man place the tray down. Kriv chuckled a bit at the comment about Jen eating like a bird. As long as he knew her, Jen had never eaten more than half her weight in anything. Then again, the troupe always had a massive stew pot with meat, vegetables, and spices mixed in to give it a rich, hearty flavor he found tasty. Through his appetite had gradually returned when Jen arrived, he knew their funds would dwindled if they were careful and he wasn’t about to help them. He let Jenphira handle the dwarf and kept quiet. He kept his attention on his ale, stirring it a bit before venturing a taste.

The flavor was bitter and harsh on his tongue. When server finally left, he spoke. “You realize our funds will run dry if we’re careless.”

His oxidize eyes stared back at her with concern and worry, softening his usually hardened curves. He sighed than thoughtfully asked the very question that likely on both of their minds. “Umm, any idea what to do next?”

Jen studied him skeptically for a moment. "You do realize that you have enough money to last a full two weeks of accommodations including all room and board at the finest inns money can buy. Maybe less in a place like Horgith Veil. But in a middle of the road place like this it'll last a while. Or would you rather live off dried fruit, and be shaking like a leaf in a few days with diarrhea because you've had nothing else in your belly," she countered. "You can afford to eat and stay in a decent inn. As can I. Besides, it should be easy to find work in this city, honest or otherwise."

Turning her attention toward the server that had trundled off, she concentrated for a moment, then spoke. Her lips moved but no sound seemed to come from them. With a sigh she dug into her stew, giving it a sampling. It was rich, hearty, and she could tel lit would be filling. It would provide lots of energy too... Which was good since she'd been walking for days. As she thought about it she realized her hips and lower back were sore which only made hr sigh once more.

"Anyway, if we wanted to stay here... I'm sure I could work out a deal where we wouldn't have to spend any money for a couple days at least," the half-elf suggested while glancing around at the rest of the patrons. She was mindful not not speak with her mouth full, though she found that her hunger had reared it's head strongly, making her voracious.

"I was thinking we need to know more about what happened with the ambush. We could go back and poke our nose around. But well, that's a problem. If we're recognized we could get captured, without knowing why until it's too late. Someone is gunning for us, and they got the local magistrate or someone in it on their side. So, we need to know who is involved, how, and why. And then we need to know who we can go to for a counter move to get them released. Maybe bring down this magistrate or noble... if we can. I've got the ability to do some of that but... I can only do so much. I was considering, once we had the funds, getting in touch with some people who could poke around for us.. more safely.. more easily. Make some inquiries. It would require us staying put... and money."

“I’m not the one that spends gold like it’s water.” Kriv replied back to her counter, noting Jen’s little habit. His head leaned in and formed into an accusing face, his eyes narrowed and stared directly at her. If it wasn’t for his softer edges, his youth easily seen, than he could’ve made an intimidating figure. Living on the basics wasn’t completely terrible as back at the monastery, he had nothing considered elegant or unnecessary for substance. This gave him little experience with luxury, something that Jen had more familiar with.

Until his traveling with the troupe, he had only seen a gold piece a few times in his life and that was when travelers repaid the monks in whatever they believed was fair. Feeling bad for seeming to accuse Jen with the truth, his breath sighed again then apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m just...worried. It doesn’t help I haven’t had much of an appetite since we left and I worry a bit about our next step.”

He slouched back into his booth end and stared at his ale for a moment. His eyes peered up when she spoke again, her lips moved in what he usually assumed was a prayer, then dig in. His eyes averted into the crowds and allowed her to finish her meal in peace without hovering, hungry glances on the untouched rolls. Kriv listened when she laid out her plans for their future, trying to ignore the aromas making his tongue water within his muzzle. For a moment, he regretted not requesting something and tossed the thought away best he could.

“I don’t want to put you out,” Kriv piped up when she mentioned staying in the tavern for free, her attention turned to the patrons. It wasn’t hard to tell or at least guess what Jen was thinking in the young Dragonborn’s mind. When she finished, he commented. “Through if you’re sore, I could try to work out some of the kinks in your muscles. As for who to contact to get information, I’m going to have to leave that to you. However, we could likely ask our current server for information over work. He might know some place fitting for our talent or at least some local gossip?”

He was hesitant on his idea. It was obvious in his voice to his body language, his doubt lingered in his words since he didn’t know the damage it might cause. “Unless you have a better idea where to start?”

With his quip about spending gold like water she raised an eyebrow. "I know how to hold onto my money when needed too you know," she said, lapsing into silence until his apology, and then his musings about their next step.

It was then that the dwarven server from before made his way over carrying a large bowl filled almost to the brim with the same stew that Jen was having. "Eat," she directed, gesturing with her spoon in her right hand. "The rolls are to share. Butter on the side there. It's all quite good for being basics." As she spoke she glanced at their attendant. "No offense." He gave a small 'heh' and shrugged. "None taken. Simple food for simple folk. Keeps us strong and hearty. Sometimes it's the best." The sorceress nodded. "Sometimes," she agreed, then jerked her chin toward the rest of the patrons. "Off with ye," she said with a small wink and a grin. The squat figure turned and stumped off, then snapped a towel he carried at one of the patrons, flicking him in the ear. The patron had been pawing at one of the barmaids. "Knock it off, you got work to do still, Holdaff," he gruffed as he headed toward the bar.

Jenphira turned her silvery gaze back on Kriv. "I'll ask after we're done eating. And I know what you're thinking... That's not what I had in mind. I could but... no. I'm sure there are problems here that can be solved, or work that can be done. A place like this is always good for information. If our good dwarf doesn't know much, the barkeep probably will. Lots of gossip in places like this too."

She lapsed into silence for a few moments while reviewing what had been said already in her head. She noted the comment about working her soreness and kinks and tilted her head, considering. "As for your offer, I could go for that. It would be nice. I can return the favor if you want."

Kriv blinked and stared at the bowl, surprised it had been brought over without seemingly a word. His sights turned upon Jenphira as he realized her little ‘prayer’ might’ve been a spell instead. He briefly looked uncomfortable that she had read him so easily and then obeying her command, he reached for a roll from the plate. His claws easily punctured the soft bread then shifted it to slide into his bowl where it drank up the broth, making it mush and savory. Dipping his spoon to scoop up a potato and chicken chunk, he tried to stop himself from gorging himself in front of Jen.

He watched her flirt in her usual fashion before sending the male off once more. From his taste, Kriv could easily pick out the chicken, potatoes, leek, cabbage, and various other roots piled into the dish’s flavors which satisfied his preference for savory flavor. He took a small swig of ale again, his attention split between the meal and her. He tried the roll next, chewing into the soggy bit as it disappeared down his throat and left a warm, appealing sensation. Gradually his middle stopped rumbling its protests and hardened into a content ball, much to Kriv’s relief. More and more was gone when Jen finished her thoughts over his idea, his hand reached for another roll to sop up whatever remained.

While he chewed on it, Jen’s last comment immediately made him choke.

He coughed and sputtered, his mind naturally dove off into a road ditch of filthy thoughts, as he smacked his chest to clear his throat. After several moments, he quickly replied. “Ah…, n-no I’m fine. I’m good. I promise and you don’t have to.”

His hand scratched the back of his feathery head a bit in a common tick to hide his less than appropriate thoughts.

Catching his reaction she raised one sculpted eyebrow then broke into a grin, shaking her head. "Oh no, nothing like that. But I know you've walked as far as I have, covering a lot of ground. Days of being on a forced march," she said quietly as she followed suit with one of the rolls, sopping up some of the broth. Idly her eyes darted to the patrons once more. They seemed to glint faintly for a moment in the warm oil lamp light that shone through the Horse's Meadhall.

"I could do that though... But no. We're on the clock right now," she said with a smirk and shifted in her seat, crossing her right thigh over her left under the table. "So, did you want to see about getting a room here, or somewhere else?" Idly she bounced her foot, accidentally brushing against his right leg once, maybe twice. Both hands picked up the large mug and she took a decently long pull from it, giving him a chance to answer.

Kriv relaxed at her reassurance nothing intimate would occur. His head leaned back against his seating’s wooden back and it pressed hard into his scales. It wasn’t the most comfortable in the world, but it was much better than the hard, cold ground by far. He let the warmth from the meal sink in, feeling content at last, and listened to her words. When she seemed to change her mind, his mind locked in a half sleepy haze, his head jerked upright. Slowly, he noted her gaze and concluded she was talking about another patron instead.

A little breath escaped his lips until she brushed her foot against his leg. Usually such an action was ignored, but she managed to catch the inside of his calf and raise a little high for his comfort. He fought the jerking instinct raising to his attention. His muzzle clamped down and teeth gnashing at each other as he forced himself to remain still. The word room, instead of rooms, was almost missed in his distraction.

His green eyes fixed on her with an expression that screamed disbelief, “You mean rooms right?”

The sorceress shook her head. "Noo~oo? Why," she said in confusion. "You were just bitching about money. One room is cheaper than two. We've been traveling together for weeks. We've slept next to each other before, more than once. It wouldn't be any different really." She gave him a look then as if to suggest that he was being foolish or childish, then drummed the oval shaped nails of her right hand on the polished tabletop. "Feel free to spend twice the amount of money when resources are already finite."

With that she slid out of the booth, peeling her cloak back, dressed in dark blues and greens of her traveling clothes, and their high quality. Once more she slipped through the crowd like hanging willow ends in a soft breeze, possessed of an elvish grace she wasn't even fully aware of as she made her way to the bar. Once there she began to exchange quiet words with a relatively pleasant looking female dwarf with straw blonde hair, and bright blue eyes in a rapid exchange. Things looked tense for a few moments, before there was an exchange of nods and a brief clasping of forearms. It seemed an accord had been reached.

A few moments later she slid back into the seat opposite Kriv. "Alright, well, that's settled. We have a job, and once it's done we have a place to stay," she said, brushing off the previous sour note as though it had never even happened.

“We also had the whole ground where I could easily slide away,” Kriv mumbled, his scales seemed to get redder in his copperish scales. His muzzle bit his lower lip, his conscious feeling wary of this situation and naturally edged into more primal thoughts. He shook it away when he heard Jen shift from her seat. Her chair made a muffled sound as she pulledfrom her seat before heading through the crowd. Her worn cloak drifted off her shoulder revealing her better shaped clothes, looking elegant with her smooth motions, until she reached the bar. She hunched over to speak with the dwarfish woman.

He eyed, from his position, their conversation. At first, the rapid exchange of unheard words looked tense and he feared Jen’s charisma wasn’t enough causing him to edge toward the end of his seat. He slacked from his instinct when Jen and the woman nodded, the prior skirting back to the table shortly. Slowly, he shifted back into his seat. At her words, Kriv frowned. He long ago stopped being surprised at her abrupt mood swings, in his view point, and merely focused on this job. “Alright, what is this job?”

"Thaga over there says she has a rat problem. Says they keep her from getting to her supplies and the like in the store room. I wouldn't think it would be a big issue. Apparently this has been going on for weeks. If it wasn't for fresh stuff being delivered, she'd have had to shut down by now. It's putting a real damper on things and causing her business problems. Not to mention there's food safety concerns. So she wants us to get rid of them, clean them out." Her face curled in disgust a bit but she shrugged.

"She said they were pretty big. I hate rats but... There are worse things. I figure it won't take us that long to play exterminator. Are you good with that?" Her hands were folded one over the other, fingers laced together on the table top as she asked the question. Her shoulders back, spine straight, head erect, and her gaze focused on him. She was clearly in business mode, but somehow it only improved on her bearing.

Inwardly she was fairly sure it would suit his sensibilities, and it would be good experience. It would benefit the bar owner, and help keep a good business in operation, make everyone's lives safer and better. And it would save them coinage. On that thought she was reminded of another portion of the discussion. "If we find anything shiny the rats dug up, Thaga says we can keep it."

Kriv nodded, inwardly amused by Jen’s reaction to doing what she considered a disgusting job. However, he didn’t state anything about it as he was pretty sure she would not take kindly to it and he had already pissed her off once. Doing it a second time, he wasn’t fully confident she would forgive so easily. His figure leaned in to listen, his hands clasped each other and his chin rested on them. His tail flickered with interest in a slow gait.

“Yes, I am and sounds fair.” He said, answering her question. “Shall we get started then?”

Without waiting long for an answer, he raised from his seat. His hand reached for his quarterstaff sitting behind him and used it for a walking staff while he looked back to Jen, hoping she would lead the way. This little job seemed easy but one thing did worry him. Why hadn’t the woman gotten her staff to eliminate the problem and save her the loss in profits. He shrugged off the thought as something minor, his mind came up with numerous explanations to fit the question’s answer.

After a second Jen slipped to her feet, standing up to stretch, arching back a bit, then reached down and picked her pack up off the floor. Sorting through it she pulled her quiver of bolts free and strapped it to her right thigh, then snapped the limbs of her crossbow into place, making sure they were tightly in place, and placed the string, making sure it was taut. Quickly she pulled it back and locked it in, then placed a bolt at the ready. A second later it was slung back over her shoulder, ready for quick access but clearly not presented in a threatening manner. "Just in case," she said as she brushed past Kriv, letting one hand lightly trail over his midriff, a physical marker of his location so she didn't pass too close. It was completely unconscious as she headed for the back rooms, wafting a trail of something that was a soft exotic floral scent.

One slender hand pushed open the smooth stone door. It was perfectly balanced on it's hinges so the weight was almost negligible. Well oiled it barely made a sound. The kitchen was ahead of them with a couple of ovens and cooking spaces, a big butcher's block that was being used for a prep station, and a few racks of rolls that were rising. There was also a big wooden box off to one side and a couple of doors leading out. A couple of staff gave them looks. One was an older human woman, and another was a younger girl, maybe eighteen at the oldest.

Without giving them any attention, the sable-haired sorceress made her way to a large trap door in the floor and lifted it with relative ease. It was an inch thick, and made of sturdy wood. A cellar yawned below them with simple steps down into the darkness below. "Don't go down there miss," the older of the cooks exclaimed, one hand reached out toward the trap door as if to stop them from across the room. "It's dangerous! Big rats! Huuuuuge!"

"We know," Jen said, then muttered a word under her breath. A moment later glittering flecks of light, cyan and cold ice blue in color gathered around her, swirling in a slow light show before gathering together in a ball over her head, the size of a ping-pong ball. It cast bright cold blue-white light around. "Don't open this door until we come back out of it," she told the woman in a tone that would broker no questions. Moving smoothly she descended into the pitch darkness.

Once Kriv was in the door thunked into place again. "Here we go."

---

---

The room around Kriv and Jen is maybe six by six. There are shelves here with small boxes and containers and jars of canned vegetables and other foods. there are a few cleaning supplies and a few stacks of towels and rags. This is clearly not enough to keep a brisk business like the Meadhall going. The air is cool, chilled by the lack of ground heat. It is perfect for storing things though. Distantly there is a stench that seeps through the room. it is like something has been rotting or a lot of things rotting and decaying mixed with shit and piss.

Distantly are the sounds of scratches and chitterings. Something shifts. There is one door ahead on the far side of the room, on the far right. The sounds come from behind it. And one could guess that is where the smell was coming from too.

---

---

Jen wrinkled her nose at the odor and shook her head, causing the ball of light to stir a little. "Well that's not good. Does it normally smell like this down here?"

Kriv watched her with curiosity. His muzzle let out a subtle yawn and his hand raised to hide it, his eyes then noted where he had left his pack. It was still slumped against the booth bench. It had completely slipped his mind and immediately, Kriv began to bend down to scoop it up by the strap. He had just secured it across his shoulder when he noticed Jen notch an arrow, drawing his eyebrow into an arch. Her statement was enough to cause him consider she had a point.

When she moved past him, his figure tensed when he felt Jen’s hand trail along his midriff. His knuckles briefly tightened about his staff end causing his eyes to snap to her instantly. She hadn’t seem to notice his reaction to her gesture, much to his relief, and continued onward, her exotic floral scent filling his nostrils. Inhaling, he quickly walked in her wake.

His hands held his quarterstaff at the ready as she pushed the stone door open, then edged in. It looked like any kitchen backspace with ovens, cooking spaces and a block stained with blood for butchering meat. The rustic, iron scent of the crusted blood grew stronger the closer they walked toward it as they made their way deeper in. His scales tingled with awareness over the staff’s looks, likely wondering why two customers were wandering into the back and poking around. Despite the discomfort, Kriv kept close to Jen’s figure. At the creak of the sturdy, aged trapped door, his head looked toward the source and had been about to bent down to help when the woman’s warning reached his ears.

Kriv smiled warmly and stepped into her path, his larger figure blocked her path. “Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here. We’ll take care of the rats.”

He let Jenphira handle the rest as she warned against opening the trapdoor before they returned, something he agreed with. When Jen vanished into darkness of the cellar, he quickly followed and shut the door behind him. His feet smacked hard into the ground while he caught his balance, prepared for fall down, then nodded at Jen’s words. “No turning back now, uh? I hope the rats’ descriptions are just exaggerated and not accurate.”

---

---

It was undeniably a storage area when he entered the area. His scales shivered from the cool, his hand pulled his tunic tighter about him and kept close to Jen. A musty air, filled with a foul odor, reached his nose and immediately he fought a sour taste budding at the back of his throat. He thought for a moment he was going to throw up as he managed to swallow it down, then hear the faint scratching of something alive ahead of them.

His eyes stare at the door, his voice commenting on Jen’s statement. “I don’t know, but I know the monastery’s didn’t. I assume that’s not normal.”

Jen shook her head, causing the puff ball of light to shift with her movement. She reached up cupping her hand around it to whisper something to it. It bobbed once, then shot toward Kriv only to arc around, swirling over his head before settling a few inches above it. She'd learned in the last month or so that her sight in the darkness was far better than his. He needed the light more than she.

"No, no it's not," she murmured as she shifted to her right along the shelves pressed against the wall. "After you," she said gesturing toward the far door. It would be better for him to go first, as he was bigger and the rest of the cellar might well prove to be just as cramped.

---

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As the door opens under Kriv's touch the hinges squeak just a bit though relatively quietly. The odor is a bit stronger, wafting past both of them. In the cold light that spills into the room the walls are lined with shelves, barrels and crates. Two large barrels on their side are butted up against the far side of a quite large crate, blocking a good portion of the view of the rest of the room. There was loud cheebling and a few squeaks. There came a scratching of small claws on stone and wood. In the edges of the light two pairs of beady red eyes glint in the reflected light.

Angry screeches and hisses erupt from the shadows before two rats, both the size of medium dogs come rushing out of the dark. Their clawed feet scrabble on the stone as they rush for Kriv as he was in the lead. Their teeth are barred, but as quick as they were, the Dragonborn would be faster.

Jen would be right behind him, her actions almost as swift.

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((GM: Before you post make sure to get ahold of me especially since I know you're probably going to be away from the computer for a good portion of the day))