In the Grey.
She was standing near the big barrel of ale waiting for a cup to fill. The ale was slowly dripping in to the cup. "Oh great, we are almost out of ale..."- a thought run through her head. She leaned on the barrel. Her brown hair fell upon her face. She harshly brushed it off. She had thin face with thin lips and brows. Her large light hazel-blue eyes seem to be resting on her high cheekbones. She wasn't ugly, well at least not many thought that she was. She was tall with wavy hair falling on her shoulders. "Mila! Watch how much are you're pouring! We don't have much left and the day is not over!!!" Mila jerked to the side away from the barrel. After a couple of seconds, coming to her scenes from the shock caused by a harsh, deep voice, she looked at the mug. It was overflowing with ale. Mila cursed plucking back the barrel and wiping off the spilled ale with a piece of dirty cloth.
Mila put the mugs with ale on the tray, still cursing her stupidity. She lived with her aunt and uncle on the second floor above the tavern. Legally her uncle owned the tavern but everyone considered her aunt the owner. Her uncle, Moris, rarely was in the tavern. As a matter of fact her rarely was at home at all. Moris was always traveling and trading. He was a merchant and he supplied the tavern, so no one really complained. Mila's aunt, Jeera, took the authority of rising Mila after her sister, Mila's mother Terra, ran away with a gypsy. Mila's father died in a fistfight - a knife was driven right into his throat. Some thought that his drinking was the cause his death, and Mila thought that too.
With a sigh, Mila carried the tray to the two 'heroes'. There were a lot of those around the tavern. Heroes, bounty hunters, warriors. All they had one thing in common: money and fame. Mila pitifully smiled at them, not listening to their jokes.
The tavern door swung open. The cold air of the night wrapped around Mila's feet. Shivering she glanced at the door. A tall and slender figure was standing in the doorway. The chatter suddenly stopped and silence fell on the room. Everyone was looking at the cloaked figure. Only the hauling of the wind outside could be heard. A woman? And alone? - A thought rushed through Mila's head. She saw a lot of cloaked people go through that doorway. She was good at telling the gender, and even race sometimes, just by the way the cloak rested on the body structure. What is she doing here? - Another question popped up in Mila's head.
The woman was still standing near doorway. The door slowly shut behind her. The big hood of her dark blue cloak hid the features of her face. Yet Mila could feel the woman's cold eyes gaze around the tavern. As the woman started moving the bewildered eyes followed her. She moved slowly and gracefully across the floor yet there was a hint of steady gait of a warrior in her steps.
The woman passed Mila; a cold chill tickled the girl's back. A nervous smile flickered on her lips. The woman paid no attention to the girl but moved on. Passing a table with an old blind man, she shot a glance at him, her head slightly moving. The old man jerked up. His white eyes widened - "Death!" - he shrieked and in terror made an effort to ran out of the tavern. He didn't make to the door and his senseless body collapsed at Mila's feet. "Sil!" - the girl yelped and kneeled down to the man. She turned him on his back. His head swinging from left to right until it settled down. "His eyes.they.they." Mila whizzed in a low voice and then fainted. A man at the table, which Mila was serving before the door opened, look down at the man's face. "His eyes."- he thought, -".they weren't there.at all."- He was breathing hard now. His head jerked to the mysterious woman who already settled down at the isolated table in the corner. "You! What did you do to him!"- He yelled and pointed at her with one hand and with the other hand on the hilt of his sword. The man was at his feet already ready to charge at the woman who seemed to no gaze at him with amusement.
A face of another woman appeared in front of him. It was fat, dirty and dead serious -"Frank Elowet Gorisson,"- her voice filled the room making everyone jerk in their sits except the mysterious woman -"You harm her in any way and you can say this tavern Good-Bye!"- Her voice was fierce. Frank looked at in astonishment -"but.but. Jeera, look what she did with Sil!"- He finally said. "She did him a favor, that's what she did!"- The woman said not loosing the strict fierce tone in her voice -"He would have died in long and painful death If It wasn't for her! His eyes made his head hurt unbelievably! Oh would you rather hear him whine all day abut his headaches again?!" "N-n-no"- he replied shaking his head. "Good. Now get rid of the body!"- Jeera glanced at the second man who was ten younger then Franck -"Take her-" she pointed at Mila "-to her room and come back down right away. Got that?" The young man nodded. He picked up Mila and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Jeera looked hastily around the tavern, avoiding contact with the mystery woman, "What are you all looking at? Get back to what you were doing.the show is over!" There was mummer in the crowd but the noise went up to it's usual volume really quickly. Jeera moved toward the cloaked woman, "Milady, c-can I get you anything?"- She asked in a sweet servant voice. "No"- the woman replied dryly, her voice was harsh and cold. "I am waiting for Lord Valimore."- She paused -"Until he comes, I am not to be disturbed. Understood?" "Yes, yes, of course, Milady."- Bowing Jeera replied at the command and disappeared behind the kitchen doors. The woman leaned back in her chair closing her eyes. "Puppy dog."- she thought
She was standing near the big barrel of ale waiting for a cup to fill. The ale was slowly dripping in to the cup. "Oh great, we are almost out of ale..."- a thought run through her head. She leaned on the barrel. Her brown hair fell upon her face. She harshly brushed it off. She had thin face with thin lips and brows. Her large light hazel-blue eyes seem to be resting on her high cheekbones. She wasn't ugly, well at least not many thought that she was. She was tall with wavy hair falling on her shoulders. "Mila! Watch how much are you're pouring! We don't have much left and the day is not over!!!" Mila jerked to the side away from the barrel. After a couple of seconds, coming to her scenes from the shock caused by a harsh, deep voice, she looked at the mug. It was overflowing with ale. Mila cursed plucking back the barrel and wiping off the spilled ale with a piece of dirty cloth.
Mila put the mugs with ale on the tray, still cursing her stupidity. She lived with her aunt and uncle on the second floor above the tavern. Legally her uncle owned the tavern but everyone considered her aunt the owner. Her uncle, Moris, rarely was in the tavern. As a matter of fact her rarely was at home at all. Moris was always traveling and trading. He was a merchant and he supplied the tavern, so no one really complained. Mila's aunt, Jeera, took the authority of rising Mila after her sister, Mila's mother Terra, ran away with a gypsy. Mila's father died in a fistfight - a knife was driven right into his throat. Some thought that his drinking was the cause his death, and Mila thought that too.
With a sigh, Mila carried the tray to the two 'heroes'. There were a lot of those around the tavern. Heroes, bounty hunters, warriors. All they had one thing in common: money and fame. Mila pitifully smiled at them, not listening to their jokes.
The tavern door swung open. The cold air of the night wrapped around Mila's feet. Shivering she glanced at the door. A tall and slender figure was standing in the doorway. The chatter suddenly stopped and silence fell on the room. Everyone was looking at the cloaked figure. Only the hauling of the wind outside could be heard. A woman? And alone? - A thought rushed through Mila's head. She saw a lot of cloaked people go through that doorway. She was good at telling the gender, and even race sometimes, just by the way the cloak rested on the body structure. What is she doing here? - Another question popped up in Mila's head.
The woman was still standing near doorway. The door slowly shut behind her. The big hood of her dark blue cloak hid the features of her face. Yet Mila could feel the woman's cold eyes gaze around the tavern. As the woman started moving the bewildered eyes followed her. She moved slowly and gracefully across the floor yet there was a hint of steady gait of a warrior in her steps.
The woman passed Mila; a cold chill tickled the girl's back. A nervous smile flickered on her lips. The woman paid no attention to the girl but moved on. Passing a table with an old blind man, she shot a glance at him, her head slightly moving. The old man jerked up. His white eyes widened - "Death!" - he shrieked and in terror made an effort to ran out of the tavern. He didn't make to the door and his senseless body collapsed at Mila's feet. "Sil!" - the girl yelped and kneeled down to the man. She turned him on his back. His head swinging from left to right until it settled down. "His eyes.they.they." Mila whizzed in a low voice and then fainted. A man at the table, which Mila was serving before the door opened, look down at the man's face. "His eyes."- he thought, -".they weren't there.at all."- He was breathing hard now. His head jerked to the mysterious woman who already settled down at the isolated table in the corner. "You! What did you do to him!"- He yelled and pointed at her with one hand and with the other hand on the hilt of his sword. The man was at his feet already ready to charge at the woman who seemed to no gaze at him with amusement.
A face of another woman appeared in front of him. It was fat, dirty and dead serious -"Frank Elowet Gorisson,"- her voice filled the room making everyone jerk in their sits except the mysterious woman -"You harm her in any way and you can say this tavern Good-Bye!"- Her voice was fierce. Frank looked at in astonishment -"but.but. Jeera, look what she did with Sil!"- He finally said. "She did him a favor, that's what she did!"- The woman said not loosing the strict fierce tone in her voice -"He would have died in long and painful death If It wasn't for her! His eyes made his head hurt unbelievably! Oh would you rather hear him whine all day abut his headaches again?!" "N-n-no"- he replied shaking his head. "Good. Now get rid of the body!"- Jeera glanced at the second man who was ten younger then Franck -"Take her-" she pointed at Mila "-to her room and come back down right away. Got that?" The young man nodded. He picked up Mila and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Jeera looked hastily around the tavern, avoiding contact with the mystery woman, "What are you all looking at? Get back to what you were doing.the show is over!" There was mummer in the crowd but the noise went up to it's usual volume really quickly. Jeera moved toward the cloaked woman, "Milady, c-can I get you anything?"- She asked in a sweet servant voice. "No"- the woman replied dryly, her voice was harsh and cold. "I am waiting for Lord Valimore."- She paused -"Until he comes, I am not to be disturbed. Understood?" "Yes, yes, of course, Milady."- Bowing Jeera replied at the command and disappeared behind the kitchen doors. The woman leaned back in her chair closing her eyes. "Puppy dog."- she thought