Maren had unfortunately started to grow used to the smell. She had decided that it was time for her to get off her rear and do something useful, so she went down to the city to make a difference. Sadly, she was no doctor, she was no diplomat, she was no soldier, and she was no engineer. She was, however, a cook. Having asked around a bit, she found herself in a deserted building just off of Shepherds Square. Small and quaint, it suited her needs perfectly, and she quickly got to work patching up the lower level, clearing out some small debris and turning it into a sort of pub. It wasn't long before she had help, with Adira coming by every morning to help clean and maintain the building. Though it was far from done, many people filtered in and out through the day, offering to help clean and bring furnishings in exchange for food and drinks. Karen was happy to help serve people and keep them entertained, bringing joy to the run down little shop.
Still, it was not without faults. The roof was cracked, the paint was chipped, and the floorboards creaked as the sun rose and set, but that was only second to the smell that hung over not just her little tavern, but over the whole city. Even ten days after the battle, the field was still littered with the dead. The tower had finally been put out by rain three days ago, and the smoke was beginning to clear, but the smell of death filled every waking moment of her day. Shaking her head, she reached over to the pile of cups and plates. The lunch rush had just come through, and Adira was on the other side of the counter, straightening the tables. "You didn't have to help me." Maren said, scrubbing a cup.
"Oh, I know that, but if I wasn't helping you, I'd be sitting on my tail, just waiting." Sighing, she fell into a chair, a smile on her face. "I spent far too long away. I could barely keep up with everyone's orders."
"I thought you did just fine!" Karen chimed in as she carried clean dishes back to the kitchen.
"Same, you did just fine. Honestly, I felt like I was the one who was falling behind." Maren looked into the cup, and frowned at the stain that wouldn't come off. "Our old tavern was never this busy. We'd have our occasional rush, especially when the academy was recruiting new Templars, but it was always slow. I had a growing reputation of being a harsh barkeep, and I really lived up to it some days."
"I would never have guessed that by the way you took care of everyone. You have the heart of a servant." Wiping her brow, Adira leaned back, happy to have a moment of respite.
"Remember when Captain Malek came through?" Karen grinned widely as she spoke. "He tried to get you to give him 'extra services' and you broke his wrist!"
"No, I did not." Maren said sternly, before breaking out into an equally wide grin. "I broke his wrist, his ankle, and his face before tossing him out the front door!" The three girls fell into a fit of laughter, reveling in the now shared memory.
They were drawn from their mirth by the gentle voice of someone walking in. "Have I missed all the food and fun?" Heads turned to see Sythe walk in behind an Ishtaer with gold scales, a crutch, and a cast around her left ankle.
"Not at all, you showed up at just the right time." Adira said, pulling out a chair for her. "What happened to your leg?"
"I'm not as agile as I used to be. Caught my thigh on a pike that fell down during the battle." she groaned as she sat down. "Not life threatening, so I'm not too worried about having it healed. There are still others whose injuries are far more severe than mine. Thankfully, Sythe here has offered to help me get around for a few days."
"All in exchange for stories and history." He took a seat across the table from her, and pulled out a pencil and a very well used notebook.
"Really? History?"Maren asked, curious. She reached around behind her, where some leftover scones were resting on a platter. "What sort of history?"
"Mostly he's been asking me about Ishtaer culture and traditions. Ironically, he's not the only one who's asked recently. Barret and Haelith were both quite keen to learn while we walked."
"I had no idea there was any culture left." Maren said as she set the platter down, taking a seat with them. "There's so few of you now, how do you even preserve your culture?"
Anriea did not answer right away, instead opting to reach for the sweets on the table. "Well, there's more of us alive than you might think, though I doubt you would have met any large groups. They're all at the fringes of society, the very edges of Mekkan. There are plenty of small tribes that wander around, with anywhere from thirty to a hundred individuals, and there are also the five major tribes."
"I heard about those when I was still a diplomat." Sythe said, opening his book to an empty page. "What can you tell me about them?"
"I've only personally interacted with two of the major tribes, the other three I've only heard about, so it may not be the most accurate. But I grew up with the Northern Tribe. They stay in the tundra and northern forests, even going as far north as the frozen edges of Mekkan. Nomads by tradition, they have hunters and scavengers, trading for any amenities they need, but generally staying out of the affairs of the world. Then there was the Western Tribe, who I encountered later in life. They're the largest of the major tribes. I spent a bit of time with them, and travelled with them from the west side of human territory to the east side of the western Keidran lands."
Sythe was scribbling down everything she said, happily listening, but he held up a hand suddenly, stopping her from continuing. "How do they avoid notice from the Templars? They're the largest tribe, so surely they would be seen, right?"
"Oh, most definitely. They avoid the Templar's ire because there's so many of them, and yet there's just enough they can slip away in the mountains. Taking a thousand soldiers into rough terrain against four hundred angry Ishtaer who have the high ground and in a defensive position would only spell death for the Templars. As for the Keidrans, they don't really seem to mind their presence. They bring trade over the mountains, and actually hold sway in local councils when they are in the area. The humans at least tolerate the tribe. A sort of 'stay out of trouble and I don't care' kind of mindset. As long as they aren't a detriment, what's the harm?"
This time it was Adira who spoke up from the far side of the room where she was sweeping the floor, a pile of crumbs and dirt by her feet. "A few years ago I took a trip to Riftwall West and met a few. Might they have been from the tribe?"
"I'm not sure. Where is the Riftwall? I've heard about that but never seen either." Anriea scratched her chin, the scars on her arms suddenly laid bare for everyone to see. Lowering her arms quickly, she looked away, embarrassed, but Adira continued as if nothing had happened.
"Iused to run Riftwall East, which is actually just south of Edinmire, but Ibroke the portal. Didn't want the Templars using it to fight a war on both sides of Mekkan at once. Riftwall West is in Helnrisht, just beyond the Keidran borders."
"Then it's certainly possible. I only traveled with them for a few months to cross the mountains. Kind enough folks, they are, and plenty of them too. Like I said, they're the largest of the major tribes. As for the other three tribes, I've only heard about them. There's the Southern Tribe. Their reputation varies depending on who you ask, ranging from simple sailors to bloodthirsty pirates, but I think they are both probably exaggerating. My guess is they are merchants that go from port to port along the southern coastline. Templars and humans are normally the ones I hear talking about pirates, but most Keidrans and even the Basitins are generally accepting of them."
"Is it possible they are actually pirates? Maybe they just target human ships?" Karen asked as she leaned over the bar, her tail flicking back and forth with excitement.
"I suppose it is possible, but that seems very unlikely. They don't have the numbers to contest with the Templars like the Western Tribe does. A small fleet of ships is all they would have, and compared to the might of the Templar navy, it makes it unlikely they would want to fight." She stopped for a moment to let Sythe finish writing down his notes before she continued. "Last are the two eastern tribes. They both stay on the far eastern side of Mekkan, but split into two tribes a few hundred years ago due to their differing ideas on how to preserve our people. The south eastern tribe is heavily ingrained into Keidran culture, and they seek to become as integrated at possible in every culture they can reach. Calling them a tribe is actually not quite right, as they are mostly spread thinly over a large area, with a few dozen individuals in practically every Tiger and Wolf city on the eastern side of the forest. The north eastern clan is almost their exact opposite. They have been isolationist for centuries, and have established what very well might be the only Ishtaer city in the world, though city is a stretch. Keeping themselves alive and establishing a foothold in the world is their goal, and they have defended themselves fiercely for generations. It has worked, but I think they are part of the reason many have a hatred or mistrust of our kind. Far too extreme for my liking, but I cannot deny the results. They have a home, which is more than almost anyone else can say."
"Not you though." Adira leaned on the broom, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. "You will always have a home here. You will always be welcome with me."
"And with us!" Karen leapt over the bar and threw her arms over her sister's head.
"Yeah, you can always come stay with us. How much do you know about cooking?" Anriea chucked, smiling with the sisters.
"You're too kind. I don't know if I would want to stay though. I've spent so much of my life away from everything, I think I want to spend the last of my time seeing what all the world has to offer. But not yet. Too dangerous to wander alone right now. But I will happily come and help you clean up any leftovers tomorrow."