clink clink clink
Yamuna tapped a bony finger against the rim of her cup, the heavy gold ring wrapped around it rapping against the glass and ringing out, small but sharp, against the humming din of the inn. Within the confines of her corner, lit sparsely by the single candle laden on the table taken by her, Yamuna released a thin considering hum, leaning back in her seat and bringing the glass up beneath the beaded veils of her mask and to her lips.
The day had been tiresome, listless hours under the sun and dull drivel at the markets, but at least the gin was sweet.
Content to savour the drink, Yamuna turned the sharp yellow of her eyes to the spread of the Edge of the World. The fare was standard tonight it seemed. Wayward youths eager for a taste of the sea dancing around the ankles of seasoned vagabonds either too tired or penniless to enjoy the lusher company of the ladies at the Naughty Nymph, instead stopped here for the evening for a tankard and an easy but firm welcome under Ms. Moore.
A short spell ago two men, a dark man and a giant, had entered the inn and taken residence some tables over, Yamuna had noticed, but they had buried themselves in their ale and talk and she had not thought of them any further.
Beneath the decadent weight of her mask, Yamunas lips twisted into a thin, disappointed frown. She set the now empty glass on the table with a soft thump and instead tapped her fingers idly on the tabletop, her body, draped in her fine intricately-decorated heavy woolen coat, shrugged further backwards into her chair. Her eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, and annoyance would be evident in her features if they weren't so veiled currently.
Yamuna thought back again to several days before when, having been taking a leisurely stroll through the fish markets, draped in her coat and golden veil, she had noticed a stallholder, a seamless and make-do seller, point her out within the crowd at the urging of the two uniformed men at his shop. Quick to act and as trusting in her instincts as she was, Yamuna had easily flighted from the crowded market, and had kept well away from the area since. No trouble had come calling for her in the days since but that didn't necessarily mean she was in the clear.
Bastion was supposed to be the place where she could become lost amongst the rest of the salty crooks, the isle so dense with sin that it would only take a villain of infamy to really stand out from the rest. For a brief second she allowed herself to be flattered with the possibility that her misdeeds could have brought her such renown, before dismissing the notion with the rising distaste in her mouth.
Six weeks she had been in Bastion and her scent was still catching, it was in no way a good thing. At the back of her mind she wondered if spiriting away those five barrels of spices and that chest of jewels had been worth it. When her legs moved to fold over one another beneath the table, Yamuna felt again the heavy weight of her purse at her belt and knew that she didn't regret it at all. She allowed a smirk to play across her lips, short-lived for it soon melted into a thin line of concern, matched with a furrowed brow of deep thought.
I should really move on...there's only so much they can do on the seas Yamuna mused to herself, tsking quietly in annoyance. Her fingers ceased in their tapping on the tabletop and instead seizing up her empty glass. Wordlessly she raised her chin and her free hand and motioned pointedly towards the bar.
Settling back in her seat again, Yamuna watched as one of Ms. Moores girls hurried around the bar, a white clay jug in her hands, and made for her table, darting neatly around a tired freckled youth that had just entered the inn.
If nothing else I might as well get a little in my cups this evening Yamuna decided as she nimbly lifted up her glass to be refilled.
