Author's notes: This story is quite a bit different from any of my earlier writings. For one thing, these are new characters that I've never worked with so I'm still learning about them. In fact, since I started writing, one of them switched factions (and races, obviously) and one of the others changed races within a faction.
The first couple of chapters are intentionally rather vague on certain details. You'll learn some new things in chapter 2, and even more in chapter 3 before we really get into the meat of the story. Unfortunately, I'm only midway through chapter 3 so I can't give more details than that.
She woke to a face full of sunshine. She blinked into the brightness that streamed through the window, stretching her lithe body as she slowly sat up. Her breath caught as she noticed the tripped telltale – someone had been there, had sat in that chair last night. Again. The first time she thought it had been a mistake, perhaps a bad trigger, or that she may have bumped it herself. But this time there could be no mistake.
She opened the door cautiously and looked down the quiet hallway. None of the other guests stirred yet. She could hear clattering dishes downstairs, as the cook and innkeeper began preparing for the day.
Turning back into her room, she grabbed a cloak from her pack and slung it around her shoulders, covering her thin nightclothes. She quietly descended the stairs and settled beside the fireplace, waiting for the innkeeper to notice her. After a few moments he bustled from the back room, his portly frame puffing as he began setting the breakfast preparations. He noticed her and gave a kindly smile.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Thank you, yes." She paused. "Has anyone come through here this morning?"
He frowned in thought. "I don't believe so. Did you expect someone?"
She shook her head. "It's nothing. I just…" She trailed off, looking back into the fire for a long moment.
He smiled again. "Any friend of yours is welcome anytime. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes – I hope you're hungry!"
She thanked him and ascended the stairs once again. There was no sense burdening him with her fears, not with so many other guests needing his care. She wasn't hungry, not anymore.
He crashed through the doorway, all eyes suddenly focused on him – so different from his normal mode of operation. As he swaggered across the room to the bar, he returned a nod from the pair at the corner table. He tossed some silver on the bar and bawled his order to the barkeep over the din.
Picking up the flagon, he turned to sweep the room with his eyes. There. His contact lifted a hand in the slightest acknowledgement before returning to her apparent indifference toward anything besides the large carafe of wine in front of her. He muscled his way through the crowd to a nearby seat and turned so that he could just see her profile from the corner of his eye.
They sat in silence for several minutes, nursing their drinks. Suddenly she stood and staggered toward the door, bumping his shoulder as she passed.
"'Scush meh."
He turned his head and watched her retreating back, his hand wrapped around the small packet she had dropped in his lap. He continued drinking a few minutes longer, then stood and headed for the door himself. Suddenly a large hand clapped on his shoulder.
"Whar you think ya goin', boy?"
He turned, eyeing the hand's owner. A hard stare transformed into a large grin across his face. "Hamuud! I didn't see you." He slipped the palmed item into his pocket as he turned - the information would have to wait.
A shrill cry pierced the air. She flattened herself against her mount's neck, spurring it onward with all possible speed. A glance behind told her all she needed to know - her pursuer was gaining.
"Come on, you lazy sack of bones - it's your neck on the line too."
She glanced toward the ground again, her head spinning with the height. No shelter or reprieve was visible. Then she spotted... something. A flash, perhaps, or a puff of smoke?
Her upper body fell into her stomach as the ground spiraled toward her. Her sharp eyes continued to search for the disturbance that had attracted them. A campfire and tent! She landed roughly, rolling off her mount and rising to her knees, whipping the ancient bow off her back. Above her, the drake shrieked again.
An arrow leaped from the string, piercing the stump of a leathery wing. A yell from behind her was followed by the cough of a blunderbuss. The drake rapidly backpedaled to a safe altitude. It circled briefly, glaring down at her with beady eyes, then flapped its way west again.
She knelt in silence with her bow taut, watching it disappear beyond the nearest hills. A cleared throat reminded her that she was not alone. As she stood and turned, he spoke in a thick brogue.
"Well, missy, gotcha a knack for findin' trouble, then?"