The goats butt heads. About the area resounds the sound of what could be clubs smacking into each other. Undeterred, they ram again and again with their hard horns on the other's skull, each eager to hold their ground like the other. The ewe stands to the side with others of her sex, watching the fight with whimsical fancy. They may not even be there when the rams are done with their squabble. Another male may swoop in to take the prize with the two competitors distracted.
Alfyn watches with bated breath at the fight. He has his eye on the rams butting it out fiercely. The larger one gives a loud groan and charges hard to try and lift the other off their feet from underneath. The younger ram slams his hooves down on the other ram's advance and pivots to deliver a kick. The larger ram unfortunately is launched off the edge of the rocky ledge by the kick. There are sounds of the rocks shifting as the creature rolls down the side. Alfyn peers down to see the ram lie at the bottom of the ledge for a few moments before standing up and shaking itself off, one of its horns having broken from the fall. Having lost, it trots away with a lame gait.
The younger ram goes to the ewes and gently nuzzles his choice before the two lock necks and gently bray. With the fight determined, the goats all disperse.
Alfyn chuckles and leaps out of his hiding spot among the rocks. He carefully makes his way down the rocky ledge, holding fast to safe footholds along the way. His eyes scan the endless amounts of stone littering the site of the fall. After a few moments, his eyes show a slight sparkle when he sees what he sought: a jagged fragment from the ram's broken horn. Gleefully, he plucks it from the rocks.
Just as he rights his posture to examine his specimen, the loose rocks make him lose his footing and he gives a yelp as he teeters to try and keep his balance. His shifting weight only worsens the situations as several stones are sent pelting down the slope. At last, he gives a slight exclamation as he starts to fall backward.
He expects the rocks to start hurting him as he tumbles. They do, digging into his skin with their rough edges. He tumbles down the slope, trying to keep his head as sheltered as possible. After a bit of pain rolling, he ends up at the bottom where the ram had lay moments earlier. He groans, still lying there.
"… I told you not to go off on your own."
Alfyn looks up with a sheepish and dirtied grin to meet Therion's mildly exasperated face. The thief sighs.
"There's no helping people like you…"
"H-hey, don't be like that! These horns're real potent crushed up into a powder an' all!" Alfyn chuckles, holding up his prize, "And it's all jus' scrapes!"
"… Can you stand?"
"Yep! Never better-" The apothecary stands, but his knee buckles slightly when he tries taking a step and he falls onto Therion, who catches him, "Awp-"
"Idiot…" Therion half snarls and sighs, "Can't even walk."
"W-well I can stand…"
"Save it," Therion puts the other's arm over his shoulder and hoists him up, "C'mon, this is just gonna set us back."
"No sweat, I've just got a scraped knee!" Alfyn grins.
He's just enjoying this.
Therion rolls his eye as they return to where the dancer and old man awaited them. They had left their shelter a bit after dawn and Alfyn wanted to go explore around while they made breakfast. Therion knew he was liable to get into trouble with his unchecked fanaticism.
"Alfyn!" Primrose stands and quickly goes to examine the apothecary's dirty face, "What happened?"
"Idiot rolled down a slope," Therion blows a strand of hair out of his face, "All for some bird crap or something."
"It was a highland ram horn!"
Primrose can't help but laugh lightly, "Alfyn… you need to be more careful. We both admire your zeal but-"
"What do you mean both?" Therion sighs tersely, "He's got zeal that's just gonna get him killed. That's nothing to admire."
Primrose swiftly flicks him on the nose playfully before he can pull back, "I was talking about Sadiq and me then."
"Aw, Therion… Ain't there somethin' yer real passionate about that you'd risk life an' limb for?" Alfyn gingerly cleans out his scrapes with an antiseptic.
"No. I only have one life. Why the heck would I play around with it."
"Not even t' steal something?"
"Nope."
Primrose looks to him with an odd look, her head slightly tilted, and a faint smile present, yet drawn into a line. Her eyes have a mysterious glint of mischief in them, but she is silent. Therion barely meets her eyes before looking away.
He knew. She was thinking about when he'd thrown himself in front of her back in the caves of Rhiyo. Gods, why did he do that…
Primrose chuckles, "Well, Alfyn are you fit to continue going?"
"Heck yeah!" Alfyn jumps to his feet, having wrapped up his most major scrapes, "It'll take more 'n that t' get me down!"
"Good. It'd be very unfortunate to have to spend another night out in the wild…" Primrose stretches, "I do hope we will be in an inn in Cobbleston by tonight… How much further is the town even?"
"… A bit higher. Pretty sure that's where the pastures are…" Therion throws the vague detail out there. It had been a while after all, since he was in the Highlands, "Keeps out the rats too or something…"
"Hmm, I guess it's true that rats cannot reach what is on a higher shelf…" The dancer pushes a stray strand of hair in place, "Pastures though? I hadn't thought a place as rocky as this could support agriculture."
"Well they got goats I guess," Alfyn thinks a moment with a hand to his chin, "Ya can milk 'em an' they're native about these parts so that could be it."
"Perhaps, but I'm skeptical of that. Most of the goats and rams we have seen are as violent as monsters… They could likely trample a person to death," Primrose shrugs.
"Well, that's true…" Alfyn remembers that he had to hide the whole time he was watching those goats.
"We shall see regardless."
"Hey, old man, we're moving," Therion calls to the loony Sadiq playing hide-and-seek behind a small pile of rocks along the road.
…
A number of the roads on the Highlands, Therion recalls, are precariously narrow and rocky. There were more warning signs as they reached the higher elevations, many warning of hairpin turns. These were for the caravans, which would careen easily down into the rocks and crash. No doubt many of these bits and pieces of ruin are remains from such accidents.
However, there were other things in the area. Fragmented ruins like that of an old wall or ancient flag planted among the stones could be glimpsed flying in the wind. It's the thing he saw fluttering in the night. The old insignia is not one recognized by the thief.
"Say, Therion, what's that?" Alfyn points up at the fluttering flag.
"Dunno," The thief replies tersely, "Not important."
"It seems to be the flag of an old kingdom of these parts is all, Alfyn," Primrose climbs up another large set of stone steps, "It's not anything I know, but perhaps these steps came of their time."
"Ohh, neat!" Alfyn bounds after them. He then suddenly pauses in stride, "… huh?"
"…? What is it now?" Therion turns his head slightly.
"D'you guys smell that?"
"Hm? Smell what?" Primrose sniffs around, "I don't…"
Then she picked up the slightest whiff. Perhaps all these years of being near suffocated in perfumes and smoke had dulled her sense of smell, since the thief seemed to pick it up faster than her. The smell of smoke. They look up and about for the coils rising to the sky. There are none.
But where there is smoke, there must be a fire.
The thief's eye roves a bit along the ledge of rock above. However, it was Primrose who briskly pushed him out of the way when something aflame zipped his way. It lands a few feet on the ground, not having hit anyone. It is an arrow with a flaming head. Having hit the stones, its flame seems to sputter before extinguishing.
"Ah…" Alfyn looks to where the arrow may have come from the trajectory, "W-who's there?!"
"Ain't rats I hope… Too stupid to use bows…" Therion scrambles to his feet, daggers drawn.
"It came from above. Watch your heads. We'll have to run up to flush them out," Primrose draws her own daggers.
Another arrow comes streaking at them, specifically the dancer. Before she even dodges, the tip of Sadiq's spear blocks the arrowhead's point and swings, deflecting it off course entirely. It disappears over the rocky ledge.
"Up, up! Evil monkeys!" Sadiq shouts and gesticulates with his free hand like a mad simian himself.
Primrose nods and quickly darts. She jumps up vertically like a mountain goat might, taking advantage of minute steps along the uneven mountain wall. Therion follows in the same fashion. Sadiq and Alfyn are left to find a proper incline to climb.
Primrose arrives at the top first. Her eyes scan about the seemingly empty ledge.
I saw a clatter of rocks spill over from here before the first arrow…
Before she can finish her thought, a hard strike lands across her back, knocking her to the ground. It felt like something bar-like. Now she knew how it felt to get swept by Sadiq, probably.
"NGH-!"
"Ey, ey, that's a pretty one!" She hears the voice of her attacker briefly, "We- YEEARGH!"
She picks herself up and turns quickly enough to see Therion having felled the spear-wielding ruffian. The man seems alive still, just out cold.
"… Watch your back," He says as he looks around. Then he bends down to tie the ruffian up with his own belt. He had a nice pouch of money, which Therion takes.
She purses her lips and stands, ignoring the probable new bruise on her back, "I don't see the archer…"
There is a cry of pain to the right, leading back towards a lower elevation. It wasn't the voice of Alfyn or Sadiq. The two regardless run towards it. They see it is Alfyn and Sadiq having cornered a man as they approach. Sadiq has his spear pinning the man by his shoulder onto a slab of rock, where he squirms and wails in pain.
"EAGHH- GAH- OWWW! LEGGO!"
"Hey, you started it!" Alfyn kicks the bow away from his reach, "Why were you shooting at us huh?"
"Oh you found him," Therion and Primrose regroup with the two, "We beat another guy further up. He had a spear."
"Gh- You guys beat Ulrich…?! UGH-" The ruffian's words are stopped by the pain, "OWOWOWOW! STOP TWISTING-"
"Hold him," Therion bends down and rips the protesting ruffian's belt off. Despite the rampant cussing out of the man, Therion ignores it and ties his arms and legs together in front of him.
"I don't think ya should be beggin' fer Sadi t' pull out. Ya might bleed t' death if the wound ain't plugged," Alfyn closely inspects the bound man's wound.
"WH- DIE!?" That seems to increase his thrashing panic and howls of pain.
"Should we even consider keeping either of them alive?" Primrose looks idly back up to where the other ruffian ought to be.
Therion does not answer that. He had knocked the other guy out with the butt of his dagger only.
"Answer this then, and maybe we'll let you keep your shoulder," The thief sighs a bit, "Where's your big bandit leader?"
"Wh- I- I was only highwayin' a bit! An' this is our turf!" The ruffian tries to appear as tough as he can under the circumstances. The thief merely smirks, unamused. The man's eyes were that of a wild animal caught in a trap, zipping this way and that at his captors.
"… C'mon, we're burning daylight," Therion lightly tosses this ruffian's stolen purse in the air, catching it on the way down "He isn't talking. Leave him here to bleed out. Maybe the local ratkin fancy the smell of blood."
"Hey!"
The crew turns their heads to the new voice. By the slope where Primrose and Therion had descended are two young men. They are dressed in peasant garb with swords at their sides. Seeing the ruffian pinned down, they look to the quartet in a slight alarm.
"W-who are you people?"
"We're travelers," Primrose speaks up, placing a hand to her chest, a motion she found that often drew men's eyes to her breasts and away from other pressing matters, "We were on our way to Cobbleston when these bandits tried to ambush us."
"… Well you certainly don't like the bandits…" One of the men looks at them apprehensively, "Cobbleston's just a bit further up. We can take care of these thugs from here."
"Oh, are you Highland patrolmen?"
"Nay, ma'am. We're just honest folk from Cobbleston. Bandit attacks of recent have been getting out of hand in the area so we have to protect ourselves."
Ah, that explains it then. Therion still keeps an eye on the swords at their waists. They were definitely newer and better made than the one he had, from the looks of it. Should he risk it?
"Thank you, gentlemen," Primrose smiles and then looks to the old man, "Sadiq, you can let him go then."
Sadiq relentlessly pulls out his spear, eliciting a loud scream from the bound ruffian. His blood spurts freely now and he collapses on his side, writhing in pain and cursing them.
"YOU, YOU DAMN BASTARDS- AARGH! GASTON, HELP ME!"
As Primrose first moves to pass the men coming to collect the squirming bandit, Therion follows immediately behind. His hand lightly grazes the front of the belt and makes its way like a spider to the clasp where the sheath is held in place.
Perhaps it was because these men had been dealing with bandits, but the man's head whipped around in an instant to face the thief, who is now caught red-handed with his hand on the sheath of the blade. Perhaps Therion was just surprised. In the next moment, he found himself on the ground, having been thrown over the man's shoulder and slammed down within the blink of an eye. The man he tried to rob holds his offending hand by the wrist tightly, looking down at the thief as if he were dirt. Therion lightly growls back.
"So, you're a thief too eh?" That man's tone was just like the rest of them.
Primrose says nothing, having stood away a bit. She watches over her shoulder. It wouldn't do if these men are actually stronger than they seemed.
"Eh- EH?! Hey-!" Alfyn turns quickly from staunching the ruffian's wound to the new conflict, "Wh- What are you doing to Therion?!"
It seems he missed the whole thievery bit.
"He tried to steal my sword!" The man growls.
"Psh, can you prove it?" Therion gives a slightly mocking smile despite being held down at a disadvantage, "You just suddenly threw me for a loop there, bud."
"Quiet! Colton!" The man barks to his partner, "We have another for the gaol, it seems!"
"Well now all of you lot are suspicious," Colton looks to the rest of them. Primrose makes a small sound of annoyance with her tongue.
"W-what? We weren't tryin' anything!" Alfyn tries to diffuse the situation, "I'm sure this was all just a big misunderstandin'…"
"You're all coming with us!" The man holding the thief pulls him roughly to his feet and twists his arm behind his back, "And don't try any more silly tricks!"
"Tsk…." Once back on his feet, the persistent thief twists his arm bones a bit until there is a series of pops along his limb. His captor is startled and his hold slackens from the shock. With the grip loosened, Therion pulls away from him and darts over to Alfyn's side.
"Geh- He dislocated his joints!"
"T-Therion?" Alfyn looks over the thief in alarm, "Woah your arm! Hang on, I'll-"
Therion roughly shoves his bones back in their right sockets and order. He flexes the realigned arm without any problems. The apothecary's eyes bulge a bit watching the spectacle.
"… Child's play," Therion sighs.
"Why you-!"
"Enough, enough!" Primrose calls out exasperatedly. What a mess this turned out to be. "We're going to Cobbleston anyway so we will follow you."
"Huh? Aren't you in cahoots with that thief?!"
"I would rather we not fight out here. If he has punishment, he'll face it," Primrose shoots the thief a look of pure annoyance, which he seems to ignore.
"Doyle, should we tie them up as well?" Colton looks over to the other.
"W-wait, this is escalatin' a bit fast! We ain't criminals…!" Alfyn flails a bit.
"No, you have my word we will follow. But I refuse to be restrained," Primrose says a bit icily.
"And we're supposed to take your word for that?" Doyle scoffs, looking her up and down. He doesn't say it, but his sentiment shows perfectly in the judgmental look of his eyes.
Harlot.
Primrose narrows her eyes. For a moment, Alfyn and Therion see her eyes flash red with black sclera.
At that moment, she considered her options. Could she possibly allure the two of them? It's not like she had much practice up to this point. She hadn't needed to allure anyone but Sadiq. But what would happen if she tried? Would her power weaken due to the spread? Or would her hold break completely, even over Sadiq?
The strings of their souls become apparent and the melody can be heard already as the ritual begins. She must try.
Therion and Alfyn watch as she seems to gracefully, subtly, dance up to the men in a sultry, suggestive manner. They could see slight wisps of darkness seemingly flickering in the periphery of their vision. Her terpsichorean movements were enrapturing even to those she did not seek to allure. When the dance seemed to end, it was as though she had just casually walked up to them.
"… Well, shall we be going to Cobbleston then?" Primrose says a bit breathily.
"… Yes, let's…"
Colton hoists the ruffian, who has by now passed out from blood loss and fatigue, over his shoulder and Doyle walks past Primrose back up the mountainside. Their eyes are a bit glassy and their voice is suddenly dull and monotone. A bit dumbstruck, Alfyn walks over to the dancer.
"P-Prim? W… What was that?"
"… I just… talked them into being agreeable…" She turns and walks after the two men. Her step wobbled, but she would not let it show. Using a multi-allure effect proved more taxing. It did not have the full effect, instead having just dispelled the hostile air.
"… Ya saw that, right, Therion?" Alfyn looks to the thief as he follows the dancer.
Therion grumbles something the apothecary doesn't quite catch. He walks ahead before Alfyn can ask again. The dumbfounded apothecary folds his arms and frowns. Seeing them moving ahead, he sighs and follows. Sadiq watches the rear, going last.
…
The perimeter of Cobbleston is a tapering of the rough stone that covers the rest of the area. Goats used to come up here to graze before humans claimed it and erected civilization. The green was allocated to pastures for domesticated mountain sheep and goats while much of the rocky area was cleared out and paved for walking. Not all of it could be flattened, and so Cobbleston still has high stairways that move from one part of its area to another. But this is a common characteristic of many principalities in the Highlands. The gods had simply made some rock too hard to level.
At the entrance of the town is a roughly hewn wooden gate. Trees are scarce, and the poles have been repaired for a long while. A simple strip of cloth hangs as an indicator of the wind from a wooden marker that rises into the sky. A heavy old bell hangs from a perpendicular piece of wood sticking out of the marker pole. The high winds here make it clank lowly, but not loudly. A rope hangs out from the clapper for emergency use.
Alfyn lets out a slight sigh of relief and bends over, grasping his knees, when they reach the town gate. The sun has long passed its highest point and is well on its way down toward the horizon.
"Wheeeew…!" The apothecary wipes sweat off his brow and chin as it runs down his face, "That's… some climb!"
Therion barely shows any fatigue. He was used to higher altitude air. It was a bit colder though, so it stung your lungs here. They had been walking at a leisurely pace before, but these two guards required faster legwork to follow. They picked up the ruffian with a spear on the way.
Primrose pants and coughs slightly. Dancing long bouts were no problem. That was how she developed her constitution. But this was new terrain. Her legs and lungs ached from the thinner air and often uneven rocky footing. She sits down on a nearby rock and gestures for Sadiq to bring her waterskin. She drinks thirstily.
"You ok, Prim?" Alfyn takes a swig from his own waterskin, "You got a bruise on your back…"
"I'm fine…"
"… Alright… now no more trouble from you…" Colton and Doyle say with very flat voices, like they're asleep. The two walk off with the restrained ruffians to the gaols.
"… Hmf," Therion eyes them with slight disdain as they go.
"Therion!" Alfyn grabs the thief's shoulder, "Ya oughta really thank yer stars!"
"Psh, why," The thief turns away.
"Cuz if Primrose hadn't stepped in, ya woulda definitely landed yerself a cold seat in the gaols with those guys!" Alfyn says with exasperation, "Least ya can do is thank 'er!"
"It's fine, Alfyn…" Primrose recomposes her breathing and stands, "It won't be necessary, so long as he's learned his lesson."
"Yeah, don't just go stealin' like that!" Alfyn hisses slightly.
"Or, if you do, please don't get us in trouble as well," Primrose shrugs slightly, "Anyways, we ought to find an inn now…"
Therion gives her a grudging look whilst her back is turned. She walks forth with Sadiq into the town square, followed by the thief and apothecary.
Indeed, it is nothing special among towns. They pass a rather skinny two-story house that belongs to the mayor. The square is plainly rimmed on one side where the ledge slopes down the mountain. The ground is paved as well as can be, with the rough touch of cobbled stones. The tavern is nearby, beyond which is a fenced-off pasture of mountain sheep. There is a slight smell of livestock. Plainly dressed people going about their day look occasionally at the extravagantly dressed dancer and the strangers following her.
"Excuse me…" Primrose stops a passing middle-aged woman, "Might you direct us to the local inn?"
"Ah, my aren't you lovely! We don't get a lot of travelers here…" The woman chuckles and points up a set of stairs, "Up this way, turn at the last house, and go up those stairs. The inn is to your left."
"Thank you."
The woman nods and walks away. Alfyn sighs a bit before slapping his cheeks.
"More stairs huh? Bring it on!"
"Cool it, eager beaver," Therion rolls his eye, "Save that for the monsters."
"Hehe… I thought there'd be a lot of stairs but I didn't think there'd be this much! The people here must have good physiques!" Alfyn grins, "Y' know walkin' and all that can be good fer your body! And irregular surfaces can be like foot massages!"
Primrose smiles slightly as they walk up, with Alfyn babbling the whole way about the benefits of an active lifestyle and a clean diet. But just at the door, she remembers the money situation. She was broke.
"Hm? What's up, Prim?"
"Ah… I was just realizing we may not have enough money…"
"No worries! We can all share a room to cut down on the cost!" Alfyn grins, "I got some leaves!"
"Oh yeah? How much? Ten?" Therion folds his arms.
"Wow, how'd ya guess?" Aflyn gawks.
Therion pinches the bridge of his nose with annoyance, "Ok, fine I'll pay. But you both better remember this and pay me back."
"Did you make a killing in Sunshade?" Primrose looks to him with a knowing smile. Even tired she could make him irritated.
Therion grunts and pushes past her into the inn. The innkeeper, a kindly looking bald man greets them.
"Hello, welcome travelers," He says softly, "You all look absolutely worn out."
"Uh-huh, how much for a room," Therion asks tersely.
"Only 15 leaves," The innkeeper smiles, "I reckon one room should fit all four of you. It might be a squeeze but…"
"We'll take it," Therion throws down a handful of coins.
After counting the payment, the innkeeper hands him a room key. Without another word, the thief goes to the room designated on the key and unlocks the door while Alfyn randomly starts chatting up a storm with the innkeeper. Opening the door, he finds a small room with a simple carpet, medium bed, a window, and washbasin. Two people could squeeze onto the bed probably.
"I got a bag so I'll be alright!" Alfyn takes out a covering, "You guys can have the bed!"
"How small do you think we are?" Therion sighs, "I'll just be on the floor."
"This is a rather nice room," Primrose sits with a sigh on the bed, "After a walk like that up the mountain, I don't really mind anywhere though."
"Hehe, a trek like that's bound t' work up a thirst! Let's hit the tavern!" Alfyn ropes an arm around Therion's neck with a jolly smile.
"Hmm… that's not a bad idea," Primrose smiles a little, "Perhaps later. I am thinking of putting on a small show myself."
"Keep a low profile why don't you," Therion mutters, "You're just gonna dance at every bar we go to or something?"
"Well, at the end of the day, I think my way of working is much more honest than yours," Primrose gives him a slightly snarky grin, "And I still don't think you'd like any of the other services I have to offer to pay you back."
"What services?" Alfyn asks obliviously as he digs around his satchel, "Ah, Therion, I owe ya… what, four leaves?"
"That's fine," Therion sighs and takes the money from the apothecary. He retreats to a corner of the room to stow away the coins.
"And… for you, Prim!" Alfyn hands Primrose a small piece of ice, "If yer legs are tired, rub it along the skin of the joints and it oughta help cool down any inflammation! Oh, and it oughta lessen the bruising on yer back!"
"Oh… Thank you," Primrose takes the gift and begins applying it, "… Hehe, what you can do as an apothecary never ceases to amaze me, Alfyn."
"Hey, it's all in a day's work!," Alfyn grins, "Say, I'm gonna go look around a bit! It's a new town and all, so I can't just sit around!"
"All by yourself?"
"Hehe, I ain't no kid anymore! I can take care o' myself a bit, I'll reckon! And then we can go for drinks at the tavern!"
Primrose eyes Therion out of the corner of her eye. The thief just sits in the corner of the room, arms folded. She relents with a light sigh.
"… Well, alright Alfyn. Do keep yourself out of trouble…"
"Hehe, you can count on me! Be back in a bit!" He grins and walks out of the room.
Primrose waves a bit to him as he leaves. After the door closes, a silence settles in the room. Sadiq seems to have been more tired than he let on, as he falls asleep at the foot of the bed, hugging his bloodied spear. The dancer looks at the thief. He meets her gaze right back.
"… You couldn't help yourself?" She asks, quirking an eyebrow like a disapproving parent.
"Oh shut up," Therion mutters. He hadn't thought these backcountry people to be as sharp to notice him. They were more aware than the Sunlanders for sure. Damn, he let his guard down.
"I'm not going to scold you because you wouldn't listen anyway…" Primrose sighs, "But you should know that if you do anything like that, you can't do it half-heartedly. Next time, you might end up with worse than even a fool's bangle."
He seethes at the lecture regardless, "You'd know all about that, huh?"
"…Well, like it or not, neither of us is doing things exactly… legal all the time," Primrose's brow furrows a bit, "It's not something that I'm going to shame you for. I'm sure you've heard enough of that as it is. So for the time whilst we travel together, I'm just asking that you show more consideration."
He just snorts in response. Then, after a pause of silence, he scathingly says, "Consideration… like how you mind-controlled them?"
"… You just can't leave that alone, can you," Primrose looks down at her feet, rubbing Alfyn's ice along the sore parts, "It was to cover for your mess, so I think you ought to be thanking me."
"I don't remember you mind controlling Sadiq for anyone's sake."
"He's … special," Primrose says quietly towards the end. There was obvious hesitation in her tone.
Therion scoffs, "Yeah, right."
"You know, pointing out other things doesn't change the fact that you messed up," Primrose shoots back.
"I'd really just rather not hear it from you, Princess," He turns away, facing the wall.
Now it's Prim's turn to scoff. She thinks better than to continue the pointless exchange. They sit in the ensuing silence with an air of prickly thorns.
"... I'm going to wash off the desert sand."
The dancer gets up and walks out of the room without another word. The thief contentedly snorts. Maybe now he could get some quiet.
The dancer is directed to a small communal bath at the back of the inn upon inquiring with the innkeeper. There is not another soul to be seen about the big wooden tub by the small well. Guests have to draw their own water for a bath. The tub could fit about three people at most on a glance.
Prim quietly undresses. As she places her sand-speckled clothes on the small bench provided, she goes to take out the folded map that points her to her next destination. The Frostlands, an unexplored territory for her. For a long time, she had gotten used to the heat, so she must take care not to catch a chill. There were only a few towns she could name to narrow her search in the region. The nearest on route would probably be Flamesgrace.
She looks over the parchment for a few moments, just staring at the paper and its scribbles. The shorthand she could decipher somewhat. She had seen Arianna use a similar kind of style when making messages for her father.
Kyra... Renee, Trina...
The names of women.
She had heard some of the discussion back in Sunshade, when she crouched in waiting for the crow to take his leave from the inn. He'd shown interest in some of the dancers under Helgenish's employ, one of them being herself. It might be some sort of trafficking ring. All the more reason she had to kill him once she found his roost. The world is simply better off without those kinds of men polluting the air with their filthy breath.
As her eyes fell upon the accursed symbol of the crow, her blood boiled and she hastily refolds the map, tucking it back where she took it from. She then goes to undo the clasp on her necklace. The scratches on her chest have healed completely.
Looking down a bit, she sees the birthmark and its recent extending tendrils, reaching out across her chest like little veins. For now, Helgenish's necklace does the trick to cover it up.
Thinking back to her master, Primrose looks to the gaudy necklace in her hand. For a moment, she wondered why she kept it. If it was to cover her chest, a bandanna would have sufficed and perhaps been less conspicuous.
But she wasn't the type to settle for drab and safe. The necklace was once a collar that tied her down. But without someone holding the other end, what is it but a trophy? A vestige from her slain master, dead by her hand.
A small smile forms across her lips as she puts the jewelry down. There is an undeniable euphoria associated with that memory of dragging the knife across that vulnerable flesh of a neck. All those years of abuse and groveling had led up to that. A final, satisfying dance...
Her only regret was Yusufa, of course. Her smile vanishes.
Quietly, she goes to now settle into the waters of the bath she drew for herself.
…
Alfyn strides briskly about, taking in the sights. He is aware of the time getting closer to dusk after that exhausting trek. But having just come recently out to the wide world, he had an expected sense of curiosity.
Sunshade had shocked him, in good and bad ways. But Therion had been there too. This time, he was on his own to look around.
"Alright!" He shouts at the top of his lungs.
Atop this point in the mountains, his voice carries all the way over town with ample echo. People turn their heads to stare a bit at this boisterous stranger. Alfyn blushes a bit before going about his way.
The rest of the town is still an experience for the apothecary despite it having the usual blacksmiths, general store, and little else. The air feels chilled and thin due to altitude, and he found himself shivering every once in a while when a particularly strong wind blew. He drapes on the scarf packed away in his bulging satchel and digs his fingers in his pits to keep them warm while he shuffles about.
As he walked down the steps to a lower level of the town, he sees a small group of people gathered before a man with some old armor. The rest are all are armed like Colton and Doyle were, more or less. The man seems to be their leader. As he passes, Alfyn picks up on the conversation a bit.
"…caught two today. Good job, men. But we need to remain vigilant in these times. Just last week, Lila was nearly ambushed gathering herbs north."
"Those consarned bandits…"
"And they seem to be waiting for something…"
"Don't worry. Berg has taught us all well!"
"Right! They won't get us so easily!"
The men rally with a hearty cheer.
"Gee…" Alfyn says to himself thoughtfully, "Seems they got enough problems besides the monsters…"
The apothecary couldn't quite think of not helping out. It was simply in his nature. These people were likely suffering and he was here. He could help them!
He spins on his heel and strides back to the gathering. Most of the men have dispersed save the leader. Alfyn approaches him, and he looks to the stranger in the green vest with apprehension and initial surprise.
"Oh… hello. Can I help you…"
"Yeah! The name's Alfyn and I'm an apothecary! I, uh, couldn't help but hear about your trouble with the bandits. Anythin' I can do to help?"
"An apothecary?" The man quirks an eyebrow and looks him over, "Never seen you around these parts."
"Yeah, me and my friends arrived just today!"
"… Thanks, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. Can't just trust a man out of the blue, see-" He turns to walk away, and then nearly stumbles on his first step, dropping on one knee, "-Argh…!"
"Woah, you ok?" Alfyn kneels to his side, "Is it your leg? Let me help!"
"I-It's nothing… just an old war injury…" The man grunts as he struggles to stand, "Damn it all…"
Alfyn quickly pulls an arm around him and supports his side, "I said I was an apothecary, and I am gonna treat you!"
The man tries to protest in vain as Alfyn walks him to a nearby stoop and sits him down.
"Now…" Alfyn says as he rummages through his satchel, "Which leg?"
"You really don' have to-"
The apothecary lightly taps his right knee and he cringes in pain. Alfyn swiftly removes that foot's boot and rolls up the pant leg to reveal the injured knee, which looks to have an old scar. The skin around the joint is a bit purplish and blotchy. Alfyn whistles a bit as he examines the joint.
"Yeesh, and you've been fighting bandits like this?" Alfyn puts a cooling hand on the knee and gently massages it, "'M surprised ya can still stand!"
"I'm the captain of the watch, for Winne's sake!" The man exclaims with exasperation, "I have to perform better than this … to protect us from the bandits…!"
He winces slightly at the treatment, then seems surprised as the cooling touch mitigates most of the pain.
"Don't neglect yourself though!" Alfyn pulls out some gauze and starts wrapping the knee, "Or 'else, who's gonna lead the men if ya keel over from exhaustion? Or take a nasty blow cuz yer knee had ya occupied? Ya gotta take care 'o yerself fer those who look up t' ya!"
"… Gah, whatever," The captain sighs irritably as his treatment finishes, "Thanks, I guess… What do I owe ya?"
"Nothing! You just give it your all defending Cobbleston alright?" Alfyn puts his boot back on with a grin.
The man stares at the strange apothecary, a bit dumbstruck. Alfyn waves a bit before going further down the steps towards the rest of town. The captain watches the green vest go until it is swallowed by the grey of the surrounding stone.
…
When the orange sky of dusk came, Alfyn had pretty much covered all of Cobbleston on foot. He had a bit of trouble finding his way back to the inn and had to ask a nice lady to point him in the right direction. He opens the door to find Sadiq asleep at the foot of the bed, Primrose doing her make-up, and Therion just sitting, seemingly unmoved.
"I'm back!"
"I can see that," Therion looks up, unamused, "How was the neighborhood?"
"Oh, it's real nice! The people're down-t' earth an' real swell once ya get t' know 'em!" Alfyn grins, "There's this guy, Ernst, he's a cowherd, or, well, more of a goatherd, who manages the pastures an' livestock we saw! Olaf's the head farmer around these parts an' he gets his manure from Ern-"
"Fascinating," Therion cuts him off with a sigh as he stands and stretches, "Alright, bar time?"
"I would say now is a good time," Primrose closes her compact, "It's the time of day the tavern usually gets ready."
"What about Sadi?" Alfyn looks to the snoozing old man.
"He's rather tired. We can just bring him back a souvenir of ale for tomorrow."
The three leave with a small note for the old man. It is nearly dark when they reach the tavern at the lower level of the town. The torches that illuminate the main roads are slowly lit. At the borders of the town stand armed men. Therion averts his gaze when he thinks he sees Doyle or Colton again.
The tavern is rather quiet and somber despite the rather large crowd. Many of the goers seem to be a part of the local watch. A bar wench runs about delivering the drinks and food, as well as a long yammering about her interest in archaeology. When the party enters, she enthusiastically hops up to greet them, a big smile on her freckled face.
"Hiya! I'm Noelle! Oh, wow! You folks aren't from around here, are you? Gosh, that's a pretty necklace! It looks like a Sunland fashion, am I right? See, you can tell from the curvature of the inside here in the individual medallions-"
"Noelle," An older man with a scarred face from a nearby table calls for her, "Focus. Don't hound visitors to death."
"Oh whoopsie! Sorry about that! Follow me!"
Primrose finally breathes once the bubbly girl stops talking. Noelle quickly seats them down before darting off to another table to yak away as she serves.
Wow, and I thought this one was talkative. Therion glances at Alfyn at his side.
"She seemed really bubbly!" Alfyn smiles as he takes in the bar scene.
"… Lots of guards here huh," Therion leans on one arm propped up on the table, "Great."
"Ya really wanna perform here, Prim? There ain't even a stage…" Alfyn looks around the establishment.
"Well, I didn't always have a stage to dance on… When you're a dancer, sometimes you simply make the world your stage," She smiles and stands, "Order me any ale. I have no preference."
Therion rolls his eye and draws his scarf tighter about his face. This princess is just too showy for her own good. She walks away from their table and Noelle approaches again in a few moments after. The thief wonders if the dancer just dodged a bullet.
"Heya strangers! Remember me, Noelle? Oh, wow that cape's weaving pattern looks real neat! It doesn't look like it's from Highland wool!"
Therion just chooses to remain quiet.
"Hehe, so, what can I get you? Oh, where'd that pretty lady go? There was a lady with you both right?"
"Uhh, she's off talking to the barkeep," Alfyn gives a friendly smile, "We'll just have three ales."
"Great! I'll get you each a mug of Cobbleston's finest! Haha, not that we have any other ales, you know?" Her eyes positively light up when she looks Alfyn over, "Oh, a green vest and a satchel… you're an apothecary!"
"Hehe, guilty as charged!" Alfyn laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm Alfyn. And this is Therion!"
Therion had to restrain himself from wanting to sock Alfyn for giving out their names so casually.
"Ya seem really interested in clothes, Noelle!" Alfyn continues.
"Aha, how'd you guess? I'm actually a student in archaeology in Atlasdam, you know! But I'm earning more tuition for the time being!"
"Ohh, that explains a lot, hehe!" Alfyn chuckles, "It's that expensive t' study huh?"
"Well yes, and my father isn't the most supportive, but I'm not going to let that stop me! After this break, I am definitely returning for another semester! They have the best education after all!"
Therion edges away from the two chatting up a storm. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of non-stop bantering to the thief, Noelle goes off to get their drinks.
"Gods, finally…" Therion mutters. He had tuned them out almost entirely, and that took focus.
"She's a nice girl, Therion! Ya oughta chat with other people a bit too! Actually," Alfyn looks around, "Think anyone knows anythin' about those dragonstones?"
"… Why don't you ask," Therion sighs, "I'm not really … looking to talk to them."
In truth, he had done a lot of interrogation on his own before. Buy a drink for them and the fools usually loosen their tongues. The problem here is the atmosphere and the people. Not a lot of the men have drinks. They seem more eager on eating. The bandit threat has them on higher alert. That's bad news for a thief who works better under a laxer environment.
"Well, don't mind if I do!"
Alfyn marches off to a nearby table, leaving the thief alone. Just then, he sees Noelle approach again with their drinks. He has to resist calling to stop Alfyn from leaving him with this barmaid. Damn, he's left alone with the worse of the two chatterboxes…
"Here ya go!" Noelle plunks down the three foamy ales, "Enjoy, ok? Oh, where's Alfyn?"
Therion doesn't reply, instead responding with a dismissive gesture, waving his hand towards the other tables. His other hand takes a flagon and he just drinks, hoping she'll go away if he gives her the cold shoulder.
"Gee, I've never seen anyone with white hair before? Where' you from? Wait, don't tell me, uhm… Everhold!"
Therion just ignores her.
"So-" She goes to continue but is cut short by music.
The two of them turn heads as there is a sudden riff from a bandore. In fact, all the heads under the roof of the establishment turn, really. All eyes rest on Primrose at the center of the tavern, doing her warmup steps to a sultry tuned dance. The local bard has his instrument perched up as he strums up a rather sassy tune to accompany her.
"Woahhh…!" Noelle gazes at the dancer's entrancing movements, "She's so … so… graceful!"
Therion quietly is grateful she stopped talking and sips his drink, his eye occasionally watching the dancer move about the room. Even the stone-faced stoic guards seemed taken off guard when she lightly touched them on her shoulder. One even flicked her a gold coin, which she catches and stows away, all without missing a beat. Her form is flawless, radiant even. It's unlikely this is a common sight here in mountain bumpkin town. The bruise from the bandit earlier is perfectly concealed with her cosmetics. The mask she always wears is still up, but it seemed to be a bit softer than when she danced for the patrons of Sunshade.
Alfyn makes cheers along with some other men who seem to have already gotten all buddy-buddy with him. His people skills are off the charts.
Eventually, the dance ends. Alfyn gives a standing ovation and some people whistle. Primrose curtsies lightly, having collected a nice amount from the crowd. She chuckles at the calls for an encore and says, "Perhaps another day."
After that, she retakes her seat at the table with the thief. Noelle stares as she approaches, speechless for once. She hurries away after some other customers call for her service. Alfyn makes his way back to the table as well, done with his little chats.
"Hehe, you were amazing, Prim!"
"Thank you, Alfyn," She smiles and takes her flagon of ale, "It is a rather nice crowd here."
Therion shrugs and finishes his drink. Alfyn chugs his quickly. The people around quickly chatter a bit, pointing at the table of strangers.
"Brand's thunder, that was quite a show…!"
"I know. Tis a shame Sir Berg wouldn't come tonight… he's missed a great spectacle."
"Here," Primrose pushes some coins over to Therion, "That's mine and Sadiq's share of the room cost."
The thief pockets the change with a grunt. For the most part, the thief and dancer drink in silence as Alfyn prattles on about some details he'd learned about the town and its people. Primrose occasionally shows interest. It felt good to rest after the prior days of travel. The people in the tavern also seemed to loosen up after the performance, and some raucous discussion begins to rise. Amid the talking, Therion picks up something over the noise first: The sound of a bell.
There is suddenly a loud slam as the front door of the tavern is thrown open. A guard with numerous wounds on his person looks about with raving eyes.
"BANDITS!"
He screams hoarsely before collapsing on his knees. The other men in the tavern immediately stand, some to support him, others to run out past him. The sound of the bell is now much clearer.
"Huh, I guess party's over…" Therion says nonchalantly.