Author's Notes are in my Profile (they will be replaced or added to when the next chapter is published).
She was being stared at. Well, not quite her, but her mount.
Ember merch Straythorne is the daughter of the famous String merch Straythorne, whom she's never met.
Ember was a barbarian, was raised by barbarians, and had lived as a barbarian. She had 5 foster brothers, and a foster mother. She herself was a fosterling, sent here at a young age to grow up as a warrior and join the war against the Giants.
Her origins are from the Duchy of Geoff, as her father's are.
She lived in a small village in the wilderness of the Gnarley Forest, with a few men as warriors to defend against natural predetors and a few low class clerics still in training. Her education consisted of basic knowldge, such as the geography of the Domain of Flanaess, or Greyhawk, and the greater deities, such as her chosen one, Pelor. She grew up learning Common, and was taught the language Flan. However, she did posess uncanny common sense compared to the rest of her village.
She also had knowledge on simple skills such as hunting and cooking, but was also allowed to participate in combat training with the young men of the village whenever the farmers had free time. She was the only woman in the village who was able to weild a sword properly. Personally, she liked the Scimitar. Her only armor to the elements and to any attacks was mainly leather and sometimes hide, when the tanners could spare some for free.
She left her village at the age of 19. She refused for years to never bed a man nor marry, in the village especially. She was sent packing by her foster mother, embarrassed to have such a rebelious girl in her care.
Ember took with her a small coin purse filled with 30gold, apparently what her father had told to her foster mother to give to her when she 'went out into the world', a standared adventurer's satchel, containing travel rations, fodder, rope, and some lesser health potions, her weapon, and her favorite mare, Fuzzy.
It only took her a few days of slow walking under the unobstructed sun to get to where she was going. She would stop at a farmer's house and ask to stay the night in the barn, then leave before dawn and not break her fast until midday. She knew where she was going, but didn't quite know what to do once she got there.
Ember merch Straythorne was going to the capital, The Free City of Greyhawk, known as the "Gem of Flanaess".
Ember entered the Outskirts of the city and dismounted, making sure her coin purse was out of sight and well hidden before entering the gate. However, she did leave a few silvers hidden in her hand to give to the poor for when she passed by the Slum District in the city.
As Ember slowly, but confidentally walked to one of the many gates of the city, she was stopped by the City Watch.
"Whoa! Hold up! You there!" A guard yelled, "What do you think you're doing? You think I'm gonna let a barely clothed lassie like you into the city?"
"I-" Ember stammered.
"You can't go into the city with your horse and weapons too!" The guard exclaimed, but also made his statement sound like it was common knowledge.
Ember soon got her voice back. "Sir," she said respectfully, "I know that the Free City of Greyhawk allows its citizens to enter with their weapons as long as they stay sheathed and do not harm anyone or anything."
The guard stared at her for a bit like she was stupid, or maybe slow, and then he burst into barking laughter. "Ha Ha Haaa! We don't get gals like you with the balls to correct the City Watch here often. Where you come from girl?"
The guard was at least a hand shorter than Ember, maybe more, and looked very round. His face also seemed to be somewhat chubby, but Ember noticed that he had once been a fit young man, and had gotten his nose broken once, maybe twice.
"I'm from the village Eldervines. I was a fosterling there. My name is Ember merch Straythorne."
"Ahhh, no wonder you're a big girl! Got muscles like a man. Ever think about joining the City Watch?" The guard joked.
"No, sir. I plan on joining the army." Ember stated plainly.
The guard looked incrdulous. "WHAT! Bahahahaa," he laughed, sounding like a large dog barking, "a woman in the army! Now it's not unheard of, but I never heard of a woman actually wanting to be part of the militia. Whooo." The guard wiped a tear from his eye.
Ember seemed unperturbed. "Sir, what is your name?"
"Huh? Oh, my name is Treylawny Jaggmire." The guard stuck out his hand.
Ember shook it. "Nice to meet you Treylawny. Could you point me to an area where I may house Fuzzy?" Ember indicated her mare.
The guard smiled and stifled a laugh. "Of course, heh. I'll show you." Treylawny began walking away from the gate. "Hey, Dave, can you cover for me!" The man who Ember assumed was Dave nodded his head.
They walked away from the gate along the city wall, avoiding most of the brothels outside Greyhawk City, and arrived at the Watch's stable. "Here, you can put your mare in our stables. Don't have too many horses since we watchmen are rarely outside the city's reach."
"Thank you," Ember said genuinely. "How much will this cost?"
"Ahhh how about 15 silver?" The guard offered innocently.
Ember paused a moment, seeming to contemplate the offer. She was raised by farmers who bargained for money based on the quality of their crops, so she had an idea of how this should work.
"How about 5?"
"15," the guard replied.
"5."
"13."
"7."
"Okay, lets meet in the middle. 10 silver, final offer."
"Alright, that seems fair." Ember smiled, and handed over 10 silver from the small pile in her hand.
"Nice doin' business with ya." Treylawny threw a silver coin in the air and caught it. "Now, lets see about getting you into the city. You ought to be tired from your trip."
"Many thanks," Ember nodded her head in appreciation.
To get into Greyhawk City, every traveler or adventurer must purchase a license to be able to bring their weapon into the city's walls, as long as they keep it sheathed and only are allowed to use it in self-defense. For magic users, they must agree to not use any harmful magic inside the city.
"Okay," the guard handed her a small piece of parchment, "here's your license. It doesn't cost that much; it only costs a couple silver."
"If you say so," Ember replied, becoming more and more weary as her travles had finally worn her down. She handed over the two silver pieces. "It was nice meeting you Treylawny. I hope we meet again, though under friendly circumstances," Ember joked.
"I hope so! I think you could take me in a fair fight," Treylawny admitted, "but maybe not." He winked.
Ember entered the city's gate, heading toward the Foreign District to find a resonable Inn or Tavern to get some rest.
As she walked on the main road to the Foreign District, she noticed that no one looked at her weird or even thought she was odd. It seemed to her Treylawny did not represent most of the population of The Free City of Greyhawk. She did get some interesting looks whenever she would give a silver piece to a child or elder, and soon after those looks she decided to visit a church that gives to those less fortunate, and give them her donation to the poor.
She visited the closest church she could find. The clerics treated her respectfully for a visitor whose chosen deity was Pelor, and not the one of the church, and directed her toward their donation chest. Ember said a quick prayer to Pelor with regards to the church's god, and left to continue on her way to a tavern.
On her way to the Foreign District, she could hear several mentions and positive remarks about the Blue Dragon Inn. She decided that she'd check out this Blue Dragon Inn and form her own opinion of the tavern.
Ember opened the front door to the Inn and was hit by the noise and hubub inside the small bar room, and the scent of sweat and ale wafted over her and made her stagger by the intensity of it all. Even the smelliest men in her village could never make this much noise or smell this bad!
The newcomer had gotten a few fellows inside the doorway to stop their conversation and stare at her, but they soon ignored her and swiveled their heads away from Ember.
She slowly began walking towards the bar and squeezed her way through to the counter. She could feel men staring at her, observing her, sizing her up, and she didn't like it one bit. She was fine with getting sent away from her village just for this reason. She ordered ale from the bartender in an audible, carrying voice and placed the appropriate amount of coppers on the table.
The Inn was brighter than the setting sun outside, but still wasn't bright enough to be considered good light. The bar was sticky with beer and the floor, walls, and ceiling looked the same color. It was rather a boring place arcitecturally, but after all, who goes to a tavern to admire the walls?
She moved away from the counter and found the only table with empty seats to sit. The only other people who were at the table was a halfing wizard and an elven archer.
The halfling looked short even for his race and seemed to lack that halfling mischief and humor people say they always have in their eyes. He had an aged face and tanned skin with above the shoulder black wavy hair, dark eyebrows and dark green eyes. His lips appeared to be a thin, slightly wrinkled line. He wore cloth robes of tan colors with bright red highlights, and wore a small cape with its hood up.
On the other hand, the elf wore leather armor. Her skin was pale, almost like porcelin, and ruler straight hair the color of straw. She had pale, almost invisible blonde eyebrows and devastating blue-green eyes. She had a small mouth, with her upper lip slightly bigger than her lower, and an angular face with a straight nose. Her hair was tucked behind her pointed ears, as if to say, "I'm elven and I'm better than you." She had a large yew bow next to her and a pack of arrows with different fletchings and colors, probably to signify their magical properties.
The elf seemed to be sizing her up, and Ember just looked at her over her mug of ale, failing to be inconspicuous.
Ember was approximately 5'11" and just by glancing at her, one could tell she was very strong. She had thick dark brown hair, as dark as the forest floor and solid brown eyebrows. She had bright blue eyes which were stark on her lightly tanned skin and complextion. She had a somewhat crooked nose, but not noticeable if you didn't study her face. He lips were full, but looked as if they seldom smiled. In truth, she was more fighter than barbarian.
Ember put down her mug. "Hello," the elf said abruptly, "my name is Pilineth Undovaul and this is Fawks Thimblebraid."
"My name is Ember merch Straythorne."
Pilineth paused for a bit. "You wouldn't heppen to be the daughter of String merch Straythorne?"
"Yes," Ember replied, staring into the elf's eyes, trying to see if she had any reaction. If Pilineth did, she found none.
"Interesting. You know, I would've thought the daughter of a master bowman would've taken up archery," Pilineth commented, subtley slipping the implied question into her observance.
"I was a fosterling, sent to a village my father knew to be raised as a fighter so that I may help in the war."
"Ah," was all Pilineth said, for there were more people coming over to the table.
There were two people, one was a tall human female who wore a chain shirt and a holy symbol of some sort, and the other was a dwarf who wore scale mail. The dwarf fighter just took a seat next to Ember and the cleric asked politely if they could join us. Fawks, Pilineth, and Ember nodded in unison, and she sat down between Fawks and the dwarf.
"Hi, my name is Sondossa Chadista, and this is Hans Bronzehammer," the cleric spoke.
"Hello," Ember greeted Sondossa with a small smile, "my name is Ember merch Straythorne, this," she indicated the elf, "is Pilineth Undovaul and Fawks Thimblebraid."
"Greetings," Pilineth said with no inflextion.
"Hmmm, hey," was all Fawks said to greet them.
The dwarf was light skinned and his caramel colored beard went as low as his belt. Ember couldn't see if he had a full head of hair or not, for he was wearing a large padded helmet. He looked to have a stocky build, and on the bits of skin visible, even had a few scars and battle marks on his face and hands. He had bushy eyebrows the same color as his beard and dark amber eyes.
On the other hand, the cleric had coacoa tinted skin and long, thick hair that was tied in a braid. She had thin black eyebrows, brown eyes, and a short, straight nose. Her lips were more full than Ember's and the color of dark lavender. She wore a few silver piercings in her both her ears and small charms in her braid. Ember could not make out what god or goddess was represented on the woman's holy symbol drapping from her neck.
"I am a cleric of Rao," said Sondossa after notcing Ember's stare directed at her holy symbol. "Rao is a god of piece, reason, and serenity."
Ember vaguely remembered Rao being mentioned as a deity in her few lessons of religion.
"Oi," Hans said abruptly, "what's wit 'im?" He pointed to Fawks.
"Oh, ummm," Pilineth waved her hand nonchalontly. "He always gets like that when he loses a bet or loses money from gambling."
"Harumph," Fawks piped up. "I wouldn't be so grumpy if that guy hadn't cheated me out of half my money!" He crossed his arms.
"Ha! Yer jus' makin' that up b'cause yer a sore loser," Hans said loudly, wagging his finger at the little halfling.
Fawks slammed his hands on the table. "No I'm not!"
"I'm afraid I have to agree with the halfling," said a mellow voice behind Ember.
Ember swivaled on her stool and saw a tall young man, possibly taller than herself, but not nearly as strong, with a dark grey cloak that ended in muddy strips at the edges, and with curly red-orange hair that it looked like he wore a crown of fire. He had the same color of bold, thin eyebrows and grey-green eyes, like the color of morning dew on a patch of grass. He wore studded leather armor under his cloak. He had a very light skin tone but healthy complextion. The bridge of his nose was prominent, and he also had a celft chin and a thin, strong mouth. He smiled at her, a twinkle in his eyes.
"I was watching their game earlier this evening and noticed the man would switch the dice whenever he would go. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should've known to stop playing while you were ahead," he added sarcastically to Fawks.
"Well excuse me for trying to get my gold back fair and square!" Fawks yelled, his face turning red with both anger and embarrassment.
The man opened his mouth, but Sondossa interupted by suggesting the man grab a stool and sit with them. He stepped away from the table, grabbed a tipped over stool and brought it back. He placed the stool down and sat himself between Pilineth and Ember.
"My name is Sondossa Chadista. And you are?"
"Ah. My name is Tsel Namek," he replied confidently. "And you all are?" He spread his arms to indicate the people sitting at the table.
"Fawks Thimblebraid." Fawks inclined his head.
"I'm Pilineth Undovaul," she said unsmiling.
"Tha names Hans Bronzehammer." Hans reached forward and shook Tsel's hand.
"Ember merch Straythorne." Ember smiled slightly at the cloaked man, dimples forming on her cheeks.
Tsel reached out to shake her hand. He had a firm handshake, and Ember could feel the callouses marking him as a rogue and seasoned combatant.
A person passed by Ember's right, and an envelope dropped onto the table.
Okay ya'll! Please leave a review. Over 3,000 words :D Next chapter will be up next week. Thanks for reading!