The end of the line, the very southern tip of the continent. Adelaide stood on the beach and stared out at the sun setting over the ocean. The dark water blazed with ever-shifting streaks of red, orange, and gold. The redheaded warrior had never seen the ocean until she'd arrived in Newport eight days ago. Her long journey had not yet taken her to the coast before this. It was a beautiful sight, but it did little to calm her churning thoughts. She'd spent the last week weighing her next course of action, but could make no decision. The doubts that clouded her thoughts were proof enough that she was not ready to return home. Where to go next, then? That was the question that plagued her. Indecision bred frustration that only compounded with each passing day, keeping her awake at night and irritable through the day.
Some distance away to her left, the docks were clogged with fishermen and their ships returning home before the daylight disappeared. Mentally exhausted but unable to stop her mind from turning, Adelaide walked back up the beach towards the port. Taller than all but the largest men, she had no trouble cutting through the crowd and soon made her way into the village, heading for the pub. She hoped a few drinks would help to sedate her.
She'd heard that Newport was once a thriving settlement. The resident fishermen had brought back huge hauls every day. Merchant ships had frequently stopped there as well, but in recent years, catches had been growing smaller and smaller. Trade in Newport dried up along with the fish supply and now the town was struggling. Strife was apparent throughout the village. The people were thin, their clothes worn, and homes were in obvious need of repair. The tavern was the only business that remained lucrative, once filled with celebrations of success, now packed with those seeking to forget their troubles.
When Adelaide pushed open the door to the pub, it was already becoming crowded inside. Soon, it would be full of drunken, boisterous people, but the night had only just begun, so for now it was relatively quiet. Most of the other patrons were fishermen come to drink away the day's disappointment. They sat around tables in groups of four or five, only occasionally speaking to each other. Some stared at the redhead as she crossed the room to an empty table in one corner.
She drew attention wherever she went in Newport, standing out from the natives in any number of ways. Most people this far south were smaller with dark hair and tanned skin, and she had none of those traits. The intricately designed tattoos exposed on her neck, as well as a discolored burn scar that marred the right side, were the subject of many whispers. Adelaide was utterly unaffected by the gazes following her through the tavern. She pulled her axe from its sheath on her back, setting it on the floor. The steel blade hit the wooden boards with a heavy thud and she leaned the haft leaned against the table. Her right hand rested on the table, never more than a few inches from her weapon.
The wanderer tossed a bronze coin onto the tabletop and leaned back in her chair, though her thick leather armor made it less than comfortable. A server soon brought her a mug of ale, one of the few things still brought to Newport by the merchant ships. She was eager to calm her uneasy mind and downed nearly half of the stein in a few deep swallows before resting it back on the table. It was a cheap draft, but also a weak one compared to the spirits she'd had in other lands. Adelaide had drunk away a handful of coins each night she'd been in Newport and had yet to find herself truly intoxicated. Tonight seemed as though it would be no different. She appeared to be tuning out the other patrons, apparently lost in thought as she continued to sip her beer in silence, though she still kept a distrusting eye on those around her.
Some distance away to her left, the docks were clogged with fishermen and their ships returning home before the daylight disappeared. Mentally exhausted but unable to stop her mind from turning, Adelaide walked back up the beach towards the port. Taller than all but the largest men, she had no trouble cutting through the crowd and soon made her way into the village, heading for the pub. She hoped a few drinks would help to sedate her.
She'd heard that Newport was once a thriving settlement. The resident fishermen had brought back huge hauls every day. Merchant ships had frequently stopped there as well, but in recent years, catches had been growing smaller and smaller. Trade in Newport dried up along with the fish supply and now the town was struggling. Strife was apparent throughout the village. The people were thin, their clothes worn, and homes were in obvious need of repair. The tavern was the only business that remained lucrative, once filled with celebrations of success, now packed with those seeking to forget their troubles.
When Adelaide pushed open the door to the pub, it was already becoming crowded inside. Soon, it would be full of drunken, boisterous people, but the night had only just begun, so for now it was relatively quiet. Most of the other patrons were fishermen come to drink away the day's disappointment. They sat around tables in groups of four or five, only occasionally speaking to each other. Some stared at the redhead as she crossed the room to an empty table in one corner.
She drew attention wherever she went in Newport, standing out from the natives in any number of ways. Most people this far south were smaller with dark hair and tanned skin, and she had none of those traits. The intricately designed tattoos exposed on her neck, as well as a discolored burn scar that marred the right side, were the subject of many whispers. Adelaide was utterly unaffected by the gazes following her through the tavern. She pulled her axe from its sheath on her back, setting it on the floor. The steel blade hit the wooden boards with a heavy thud and she leaned the haft leaned against the table. Her right hand rested on the table, never more than a few inches from her weapon.
The wanderer tossed a bronze coin onto the tabletop and leaned back in her chair, though her thick leather armor made it less than comfortable. A server soon brought her a mug of ale, one of the few things still brought to Newport by the merchant ships. She was eager to calm her uneasy mind and downed nearly half of the stein in a few deep swallows before resting it back on the table. It was a cheap draft, but also a weak one compared to the spirits she'd had in other lands. Adelaide had drunk away a handful of coins each night she'd been in Newport and had yet to find herself truly intoxicated. Tonight seemed as though it would be no different. She appeared to be tuning out the other patrons, apparently lost in thought as she continued to sip her beer in silence, though she still kept a distrusting eye on those around her.