amorphical — Roleplayer Guild

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Dawnhaven-Eye of the beholder               7pm             Cold as hell 
Becky:

With a heavy heart she sighed at the thought of another night on wooden planks. Shaking her head. "I'll ask around maybe tomorrow if someone got a room for me. I'm grateful for the lodging. I just hadnt expected more people to be," She looked about choosing her words. "...so willing to explore the frontier." Becky turned to the man who spoke up rather boldly to the robust woman. Folding her arms under her chest because there simply was no other option. She knew how it looked yet her figure was twice as stubborn as she was. "A royal guard? Just getting off shift are we now? Maybe while the tavern lady gets me some bedding for my boards you could tell me about this place? It seems the town is indeed growing yet I cant for the life of me wonder why. I thought knife alley in Lunaris was a shady place but this, barely built shanty of a town has need of some supplies and people if its ever going to grow proper. What's so special about it that makes the inn bust at the seams of people and the rumors of its potential? Oh you know of a shop keep that could get me things and a general goods store?" Becky walked over, turning the chair in reverse to place the back forward, and sat down at the same table as the man named Hector. A lesson taught to her by her loving father. This way there was a means of escape or attack if someone were to sneak up behind you. The knife in her boot was thin but sharp enough to get the job done should she have need of it. 

She returned in a few minutes with a bundle of bedding and a dish with a candle and a spare. “Sorry Miss Hill, I am already full upstairs so this is the best I can put together. No bed but there are a sturdy few boards and old crates that can keep you off the ground.” She gestured at the bedding. It was not the best but it was mostly clean, warm and did not have holes In. 

“Its warm, and you will sleep a lot better than in the snow.” She said, Sya had slept In far worse places with far less but did not voice that and nudged her hood to maintain her Blight born traits from being too obvious. Sya knew Lunarians…were actively hostile to her kind in their lands. [color=8dc73f]"It can do till, better.. other options open up."[/quote]

When Sya returned, The thick woman stood from the chair and half heartedly smiled. "I'll be up well before the morning time to see this kitchen." She paused and shrugged. "No time like the present If you dont mind me looking in that is?" Setting the bedding on the closets table she walked over to the typical double swinging doors and into the fray. "Mothers love..." The sight alone made her shiver. Shaking her head at the disarray. "You need me." She stretched out her arms in an arch before her seeing the mess of things as they were. "How many people work here? No, how many work here?" She saw the dishes and pots still soaking in the large wooden tub. The stove that was begging for either a deep cleaning or a sledgehammer. "Okay so I'm going to need about three hours, some boiling water, and the hardest, meanest, scrub brush you have ...and two of its friends." Taking out a bandanna she updid her hair out of her face and rolled up her sleeves. Giving the room a shake of her head. "Get ready to meet your match." 

In no time she swept the back floor out the door and then got things reorganized. With some buckets and boiling hot water she poured it over the floors and sank to her knees scrubbing and cussing, cussing and shouting. "What in the nine hells is this? I've not seen darker things awake! By the gods what the hell is that?" More things she cussed at while working the stove top. "You #$%^@# @#$%@#$^ !! Stupid @#$%@ $@#% motherless sons of #$^#@$# !" Some light banging of metal on metal as she gave the stove the deepest cleaning in the three kingdoms. By the end of three or so hours the woman drenched in sweat looked about with a smile and narrowed eyes daring grime to show itself before her might. 

Sya remembered what she said earlier about baking, she was not going to take this woman on her word about contacts or her skills. “I tend to cook, I try my best, we have some spices, but imports are difficult and expensive and most luxury caravans prefer Bigger cities.” She spoke honestly and looked at the woman, judging her body language and It seemed… Well not outright hostile… She could work with neutrality. If a bit suspicious. She also challenged the woman a little to insult her cooking, it might not be the best, but Sya tried and honestly worked hard to run the Inn, however humble. 

Becky smirked and nodded, "I can tell ya when I send a letter to my father back home hell have your stores full of.. well at the very least the basics. Your best will get a lot better with me helping out. I'm not much in the serving area but put me in front of a stove an watch me go. Of course we will need to increase the basics here. Your woefully understocked by the looks of things. Especially if I can bake here we'll need no less than three ties the eggs and flour milk gotta get a butter churner for sure. With the snow it will keep for us."

“You can try in the morning if that's OK with you. No promises, for all I know you can burn a salad. practical test.” Sya was a little blunt but honest. She had no idea of this woman's skills, the only way would be a test. I'm the real practical world of the kitchen. 

Becky turned up her face as if Sya slapped her after making the, 'burnt salad' comment. The voluptuously figure was now fully intending on making that tavern woman the fattest in the land. She'd get her hooked on so many new baked sweets that the cloaked figure would need two cloaks. Her eyes narrowed trying to picture the tavern keeper waddling about the floor, huffing as she climbed stairs one every ten minutes. Oh revenge is truly the sweetest dish.

Sya spoke softer and more carefully chose her words. “This town is… your find that Emberkin…Blightborn live here freely, you do not need to like them, But the Prince will punish trouble regardless of who. This place is not like anywhere else, its only fair to know before you find out by ending up with his displeasure.” Sya said she had not believed the claims that blight born walked openly in Dawn Haven till she saw with own eye. 

“Dawn Haven might be a challenge to adjust, I will not lie to you.” Sya said everything honestly but had chosen her wording extremely carefully. She hoped Becky knew what she was going to be walking into, Dawn Haven was a place that some would not last long in.

"Right, I'm going to take stock of your wares and then go to ...bed." She glanced over at the door to see if the woman Sya was still about. Either way the stout woman did as she willed and looked about making a list in her mind with the added note of writing an parchment stuff. She was already going to write her father whether he liked it or not. This fresh hell was going to find itself grossly out matched to the hot blooded woman who now graced its borders. After the inventory was done, and she bid the kind Sya good night, she moved to the ...basement and looked about the makeshift bed. Even cleaning she was surprised to find not a single rodent sign, which meant one of two things. There was a predator or the tavern woman Sya was very good. One thing was sure as the sweaty clothes clung to her skin, this town also needed Becky to start a laundry service. Grateful that she brought the 'padding' wherever she went the woman half undressed and slipped under the covers. Tired she quickly slept giving the basement a new dark noise as she snored through the night. 

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Marcon. 
The trail to Dawn haven                 7pm

The ex swordsman was setting up the cart just off the trail a few yards into the tree line. The wood slipped into the holes as he placed the ribs of the wagon cover in place. It was snowing as while the trees offered some protection from the falling flakes giving a hunter a uncovered sleeping target was begging to die. No, he would not die in his sleep if he had any say. The craftsman finished pulling the waxed canvas over the ribs and tied them in place. Getting out a blanket for Rose the other would have to fend for themselves. It would be the final night in the wilderness before reaching this fresh hell called Dawnhaven in the morning. Yet Marcon was no fool. Beast could kill a man as easily as any demon. After giving Rose her oats and making sure the blanket was over her fitted figure he patted her backside before setting a few trip snares. Nothing flashy two wooden stakes and some rope. A few feet he planted a set of three stakes with luck the sorry fool would trip and stab himself setting off the alarm to the swordsman. Marcon didnt have much to spare so three would have to do. One for those coming from the trail and two from enemies deeper in the woods. The horses were tied to the cart with three foot leads the young ones would cry out to danger and Rose would kick the cart if she saw them coming. After everything was in place he pulled out the blanket for himself part to keep warm and part to hide the short blade he slept with. The old champion settled in after eating some dried jerky and drinking a little wine for the warmth. Soon he would drift off to dream of glory and great deeds no one remembered.

The time where he was a sword in the company of a lord ordered to chase down bandits in the outlying provinces. Finding out they were actually starving peasants in need. Desperate people were more dangerous than the dirtiest sell sword. The king commanded their execution but the captain offered them the chance of surrender. The memory took a nightmare turn as he was forced to fight. Unskilled and poorly armed the victory was one of many that had left a sour taste in his soul. His principals were clear, if you square off with the knight of old then you are willing to let the fates decide your outcome. When it was over he ordered the men to dig graves and place markers. The Captain even picked up a shovel himself. Saying some random prayer to the dead after every pitch of dirt, hoping it would help. It didnt, the wound on his soul was deep... just one of many. Each one he carried weighed differently and the man felt every one. Marcon was so very tired of carrying so much weight for the dead.

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