The party collected their things from the taxi after being deposited back on the ground from the sky docks. The small row boat was steered by an even smaller gnome who helped Moss remove the party’s belongings with an obvious expectation for additional compensation. At the conclusion of his work Niera tossed him an additional silver piece and turned to rejoin the party.
Wa’Haan was not quite as large a city as Yellowfield but it had grown to a respectable size. There were several shops, taverns, and inns that the party could stop and tour if they weren’t in as bad a hurry. Every minute they delayed, Niera Reminded the group, more people would be in danger.
“It’s a fairly long walk though. We’ll probably make better time if we rest for the evening and head out tomorrow with fresh legs.” Roze suggested
“That’s a fair point. It’ll also give me time to do some shopping.” Niera Responded
“Shopping for what? You just said we didn’t have time to look around.” Kesh’gar interjected, still feeling some irritation at the earlier argument.
“Well,” Niera paused to consider her words, “My father left me some money in a letter so that I may purchase a wagon and a servant to drive for us.”
“How considerate!” Rhenigan shouted
“Will the servant be aware of our destination and the implied danger of our trip?” asked Moss
“Well, yes but they’ll be fairly compensated. I wouldn’t ask somebody to risk their safety without assuring the reward will be substantial.” answered Niera
“OH HOW FORTUITOUS! The great Lord Seacrest has blessed us all with his wealth that his daughter may share it with the common people.” Hazel, who had been quiet since leaving the sky ferry, was now facing the heavens with her arms outstretched in a sarcastic adulation. She turned back to Niera. “Do tell us, how much is the life of some peasant farmer worth to the great Seacrest?”
Niera scowled back at her accuser. “A few gold pieces is more than fair. Hirelings are not just peasant farmers. These are people willing to risk their lives to make these ventures knowing the rewards could be of great benefit to themselves. We’ll all be there to make sure nothing happens to them. Isn’t that enough?”
“The only thing that I’ve had enough of is you. Enough with your money, your attitude, you voice-”
“Hazel stop.” Moss started to interject
“No,” Niera retorted, “Let the cat speak. Actually, since we’re being honest I’ve got some things on my chest too. You think I’m not growing irritated with your self righteousness? Everything I do is just so evil to you. I’m starting to understand the misfortune brought on by cats like you.”
“ME?!” Hazel’s face flushed red. “I’d rather be an unlucky cat than some over-entitled grey skinned half-elf. Are you sure you’re Suu’mahri? Cause I’ve met enough Drow to know what when I see one.”
“Shit…” Moss whispered under his breath, sensing the situation had grown far beyond his control. Maybe this was for the best, he thought, maybe one of them just needed to head back to the guildhall so the group could move on.
“Drow? Don’t compare me to those dark elves. You’re nothing more than an abandoned familiar. A petty wi-”
Niera’s words were halted sharply by Hazel’s fist meeting with face. She could taste the blood in her mouth from the blow and from the look in Hazel’s eyes it was clear to her. She had crossed a line. Niera sensed a plethora of emotions well up inside her at once. Anger from this argument, frustration at constantly being the aggressor, confusion at why she couldn’t get on this group’s good side, but the strangest feeling was the shame she felt of having been in this discussion at all.
“Go get your fucking cart. We’re going to the inn.” Hazel’s words were simple but clear. The remainder of the party was quiet, unsure of what would happen if anybody spoke.
The group was quickly divided into three. Niera and Rhenigan were off to purchase a wagon, some basic supplies, and a hireling to drive while Kesh’gar and Roze left to peruse the few magic shops that were in town leaving Moss and Hazel to, awkwardly, find rooms at a local inn together.
Moss felt a great deal of discomfort as he sat in the room at the inn with Hazel. They had managed to get three rooms, each for a fair price, and now he and Hazel were inspecting the rooms and trying to decide how best to place the rest of the party. Kesh and I can take this room I suppose. He likes to look out at the moon at night so the windows will be nice. Rhenigan and Niera will likely share a space and Hazel and Roze seem to be getting along well. Moss turned to look at the feline woman who was now lightly bouncing on the bed cushion and looked visibly pleased with the softness of the blankets. As long as everybody wakes up in the morning, I don’t care.
Hazel’s assessment of the beds yielded satisfying results. She was used to sleeping on damp moldy cots back at home so this was a drastic improvement. For a moment she forgot who she was with and turned to say something until she locked eyes with Moss. Ugh. Dumb dog, she thought. Unlike Hazel, who was a slender and nimble woman, Moss was larger and hairy. He was muscular enough and Hazel often thought he would be good to be in front of her in a fight. She did wonder at some of his animalistic features. Moss was clearly not a normal human and did not resemble a half orc like his brother. He had sharper teeth and pointed ears like an elf. Thinking about his elven resemblance made Hazel feel immediately sick.
“I need a drink. Let’s go. There should be a tavern around here somewhere.”
The two made their way back to the streets of Wa’haan. On the same street as the inn were an assortment of establishments for travelers to get food or drinks. Hazel picked the busiest one she could find, a loud bar with a sign reading “Dragon’s Breath” hanging by the door. Hazel pushed her way inside and was stunned. She could tell the bar was quite busy by the noise leaking out onto the street but she assumed it was a normal occurrence at this establishment. She was not, however, expecting to see Roze standing on the bar double fisting tankards while a large portion of the patrons chanted and cheered her on. Moss moved in to see what stopped Hazel in her tracks and would have been just as surprised as her, if not for the sight of his own brother clumsily strumming at a lute that seemed to belong to a clearly aggravated bard.
“HAZEL!” Roze shouted as her eyes beamed across the room. “Come drink with me! Kesh totally left me here alone. You won’t let me drink alone right? BARTENDER! Get a drink for my friend at the door. And another one for the wolf man with her.”
“Wolf man?” Moss questioned as he looked over his clothes and body.
“Ugh, this just ruined my mood. Let’s just go home.” Hazel stated resignedly.
“I shouldn’t just leave Kesh here.” Moss replied.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Just let him pass out somewhere and we can get him in the morning.”
“Um, I’m not worried about him too much.” Moss pointed back to the scene as he spoke the words. When Hazel looked back she could see Kesh holding the bard back with a foot still strumming the lute which now seemed to be in poorer condition than just moments ago.
Hazel reluctantly accepted her circumstances and moved across the bar to quickly grab her drunken companion and return her to their room. As they retired to their beds Hazel laid on her back listening to Roze’s deep breaths. She wondered how this devilkin seemed so unbothered by everything but would quickly turn so violent. It would have impressed Hazel if it didn’t concern her so deeply. She remembered her note from her Master, Avery.
Can I kill her? Should I be even considering it? As she pondered her options, Hazel found herself standing over Roze’s bed. She never hesitates to become violent, but it’s always for me. Is she unstable or something else? Maybe Avery is just wrong about you. Hazel turned to go back to her bed but felt Roze’s hand on her wrist grabbing tightly in a drunken stupor.
“Come back. Where are you going? Why are you leaving?” Roze mumbled while aggressively pulling Hazel into the bed with her. Her small frame was easily manipulated by Roze’s deceptive strength. She quickly held onto Hazel and seemed to sink into her body. Hazel had forgotten what it felt like to sleep this close to another person and found herself unable to exit the blankets until she heard Roze whisper one more time. “I love you Fern.”
Who the fuck is Fern?
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