First Few Steps

"It's what's left of our namesake," answered the innkeeper with a smile. "A big black dog. Used to roam the woods 'round here, 'til a bunch a' the fellas went out with spears n' bows, n' took it down about two r' three years back,"


"Damn thing took most of 'em with it," he continues, shaking his head.


"Still, since this here was just bein' built then, we decided to name the place after the bastard, n' stuck his skull up over the mantle, so he could watch the rest of us havin' fun,"
 
Abram


Abram looked back at the 'dog' as the barkeep had said and considered its size. He'd never seen any canine, dog or wolf, grow to that size. But if the locals called it a dog then who was he to argue? "Shame, I'd've like to see it living."


Abram was tossed out of his reverie when he looked over at Lyke and saw her puzzling in frustration. Apparently he'd gotten his guess wrong, thus she was trying to express her question more concisely. She made a motion with some of her coins, pointing up to the rooms then holding those coins close to her chest. Given what she'd 'said' earlier Abram was having a hard time figuring out what she wanted. Rooms, food, some kind of compounding. Well if she didn't want to split the bill, what else did she want to share?


Abram cocked his head at her asked directly, "You wish to share rooms? ...To save coin?"


@Silvertongued @Teh Frixz
 
Lyke


A groaning shrug is the best response. At this point it was all she could muster, a sour look replacing one of frustration. Sharing rooms was an option of course but what she wanted was to share costs. Food, drink, bedding, hot water, all the good stuff that tended to cost money. Then again, the crone probably had access to their coffers and was going to spend it all on things like 'resupplying the wagon' and 'purchasing new equipment'. Not one of the mercs, let alone Osric, had mentioned they'd be paying for their own lodging.


She sighs, a somewhat nasally harumph, while taking down a ceramic pitcher. They had to have a well or something around here she could draw from for her eventual bath and she'd much rather hot water then cold. Let alone wish to share rooms... Lyke freezes in place for a moment to grow a wry smile. She does her snaps for Abram and gives him a dirty look. Bastard was interpreting her for his own good. She'd dealt with this before, nobles wishing to play translator or coach her on speaking. Granted some actually did but the threat was there.


She sets the pitcher down, using both hands. One hand pointing at him, the other at herself. Then making a rather obscene gesture with said hands, Lyke gives the all too easily interpreted sign of something being cut off with a wicked grin before picking the pitcher back up and motioning with it.


@KamiKahzy @Silvertongued @Bardiel @PixelWitch
 
Adelaide Auerstedt


Adelaide cannot help, but to share in the wry grin at the "informative" message Lyke is sharing with Abram. "The Company will cover the cost of rooms, but your grub is up to yerselves. Basically the reverse of when on the trial. In case any of you are wondering," addressing them collectively.


That "dog." Seems like it is the sort of thing people like us might be called on to dispose of out here in the Frontier. Pay some passing mercenaries, and spare the townsfolk. Might be useful pocket change, however if we want Unbroken Company to grow, it'll be the deal that Silkhand is hopefully securing for us. Hmmm, I wonder what he was thinking with that name? Maybe simply that we were all still standing after the awful mess- strategically and tactically a complete disaster. Fools for not listening. Anyway, Lyke has the right idea, dare I say it of that brigand. A hot bath is desperately needed. Wash the dirt off and have a shave. There will hopefully be work to do later. Oh, I'll need some fresh parchment too... Better add it to the list.
 
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Abram


Abram was completely confused when Lyke suddenly turned hostile towards him. He hadn't meant any disrespect towards her, he'd just asked what he thought she had meant. But apparently she had taken something else from his words entirely and had threatened him in a way that he wasn't familiar with. Abram wasn't sure what he said wrong so he just looked at her with a puzzled expression for a moment before shaking his head and looking away. He didn't see any reason to probe further so he'd just let the matter drop for now. Instead he looked to the barkeep and asked, "Barkeep, there a place a man can wash 'imself 'round here?"


@Silvertongued @Teh Frixz
 
The barkeep nods.


"Aye, we got a coupla tubs ya can bring up to the rooms. I can have one a' the girl's bring up a coupla kettles a' hot water ta fill 'em. When yer done, just tip 'em out the window,"
 
Sam


The ragamuffin skitters indoors, eyes darting for any more Inquisitorial goons. Thankful there are none, he dusts himself off, and wipes his shoes on the rough mat in a feeble vain attempt to look more presentable. At best he now resembled a mutt that's been dragged backwards through a hedge.


...It'll do.


He checks his coinpurse. Just a couple of copper pieces left.


He frowns, debating. In a toss up between food, bed or wash... food wins. Others later.


He approaches the barkeep softly, "Excusing me, good sir? Best food of here, I ask for, please?"
 
Abram





Abram barely noticed Sam entering the Inn, such was the lad's nature. He guessed that Sam could hide from a wolf on the hunt if he so chose. He watched as the young man tried to timidly garner the barkeep's attention, and if it weren't for Sam's weathered demeanor he was sure the keep would never have noticed him. Abram's stomach growled up at him as he considered this, and decided the help out his young companion by speaking up for him. "Aye barkeep, what food have ye on hand?"


@Silvertongued
 
Lyke


The immortal expression of exasperation crosses both Lyke's hands and face. She'd been trying to get a hot bath since entering New Hope and here comes Abram, being offered one just as he lets the words roll off his melodic tongue.


Rolling her eyes she sets the jug back down and walks up behind Sam. Reaching over she puts down a silver piece from her own purse, pointing at the the members of the company and then at the foodstuff available.


If Abram is paying for the baths and the company paying for the rooms, she'd at least throw in some for the food.
 
There's another nod from the barkeep.


"We got fresh bread, strong cheese, n' rabbit stew with wheat n' carrot," he answers, polishing a tankard idly. "Good stuff, made by wee Jenny,"


He grins slightly. "Pairs well with the local lager, if I do say m'self,"
 
Abram


Abram nodded once when he heard about the menu, his stomach already deciding his meal for him. "Stew and a lager for me then." He then looked down towards Sam and asked, "What about you Sam?"


@Silvertongued @PixelWitch
 
Lyke


Money goes down on the counter, Lyke tapping the counter three times and putting down some silver before the trio. At the word 'Lager' she holds up two fingers, asking for a pair of drinks for herself. Hunger wasn't the priority right now, bath still topping that list but nobody seemed to understand that.


Maybe after a drink she'd haul the shit up for herself without asking. It had come to that before.
 
Sam


He grins at Abram, too many teeth crammed into that smile, "Yes. All of three foods please. Very hungry,"


He pauses, unused to being waited on, and looks to fetch himself and the others their requests, trying to be useful. Looking for permission from the barkeep and anyone else for authority to move. Didn't want to be accused of stealing. Like the last few times...
 
Abram


Abram noticed Sam start to move behind the counter and was worried the lad was going to do something illegal. But his fears were assuaged when Sam stopped near the bar's side entrance looking around in a quiet, pleading manner. It was an uncanny resemblance to the hounds Abram used to train when they would sit at the yard doors come feeding time. A brief moment of homesickness and endearment took over Abram as he gently rested a hand on Sam's shoulder and pointed to a seat near the fire. "Easy lad, no need for that. Rest ye bones by the fire, they'll bring ye the vittles." Abram spoke in a soothing manner, much as one would use when speaking with children or pets. It wasn't demeaning or belittling, but rather calm and low like the deep rumble of thunder beyond the hills. Abram knew little of Sam's past but he guessed that the young boy came from a life of servitude, likely an indentured one. This might be his first experience with being served himself, so Abram thought it best that he take the chance now to grow accustomed to it.


Meanwhile Abram looked over at Lyke who had been pensive for the last few moments. He briefly remembered her eyes lighting up when he asked the barkeep about a bath and guessed that might be on her mind right now. It was certainly on Abram's, and probably even Sam's, though he pondered if the lad had ever washed with soap before. Regardless, Abram had gone for longer marches without bathing, and he was still a knight after all. Not in title, but certainly in spirit he tried. So his chivalrous mind stepped forward and asked the barkeep, "How much to rent a tub and some water for a wash? Just the one, we're short of coin right now. I'm starved meself so I'll wait my turn, let the women use it first." Abram looked over at Lyke and continued, "I'll help ye haul it up while the stew simmers."


@Silvertongued @Teh Frixz @PixelWitch
 
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"Jus' a couple coppers," replies the barkeep, taking Lyke's coins and pouring a pair of draughts from the large tapped barrel behind him. "But there's no need to help, wee Jenny'll be fine bringin' up the kettles herself, and I'll get ya the tub,"


The pints are placed on the counter top, pale froth topping the tin tankards, the barkeeps hand snaking over to the silver coin. A fistful of coppers are put in its place, and the barkeep grins at Lyke absentmindedly before disappearing into the door next to the counter.


After a minute or two passing, the older man emerges again, a wooden tub fastened with bands of metal in his hands. A young woman, small and dainty, is at his heels, a serving tray replete with steaming bowls, a sliced brown loaf, and chunk of hard cheese. As the man continues up the stairs, tub in hand, the girl places the tray on the table your team is assembled around, laying out the bowls of hot stew.
 
Lyke


Her sour demeanor slid away, buried under a mountain of growing comfort. Eyes focused on the tub being hauled up and then the bowls of food being placed before her. Luckily there is little to say as she tucked in.


The eating process was never simple sans tongue. With nothing to move food around in her mouth, Lyke uses her finger between each bite or slurp. Combined with her hunching over the bowl and practical snarl as she grabs a slice of bread, it's not a particularly pretty picture but at least it doesn't last long. The last of the stew wiped out with the bread, Lyke throws down her spoon and stretches out.


She points at herself, then upstairs before pulling off her jacket and most of her gear. The heavy leather armor and clothing is almost treated with the combined scents of smoke and oil. Stripped down to her cotton undershirt, pants, and boots, Lyke points at her company, making sure to emphasize them keeping an eye on her gear before stomping up the stairs.


Locating the tub wasn't hard, Lyke peeking in a few of the fairly comfortable looking rooms before finding the filled tub. A couple nice sized buckets sit filled beside the tub, contents ready to be poured over the body. Stomach full, Lyke was almost giddy at the prospects of nearly all her needs being filled within a few hours of getting into the city. The rest of her clothing is tossed aside before stepping into the warm water.


Heaven on the mortal plane, Lyke mouths a swear as she slips into the tub. Thank goodness it was a dark wood, Lyke not wishing to see what color the water was turning. Tension slips off her head as she lets her hair down and slips her nose under the surface. It wasn't big enough to fully stretch out, her knees bent so she can fit but she'd be damned if she issued any complainants. Letting her eyes close, Lyke exhales and drifts off just a bit.
 
Abram


Abram smelled the aroma from the stew gingerly and smiled to himself. It might not be the best stew he'd ever had, but it was warm and fresh, and a far cry from the field rations he'd been eating over the journey. He took his seat at the table and slowly brought a spoonful up to his mouth, then savored the taste as the broth washed over his tongue. "Hmmmmm~..." he hummed to himself as the soup warmed his mouth and belly the only way that bar food can. He then reached for the ale next to his bowl and also smelled the drink before taking a swig. It was a dark brew, with a layer of foam at the top and spiced with something Abram couldn't quite place. But it was as the barkeep had said, it paired very well with his bite of stew from before. Abram smiled quietly as he began to slowly enjoy his meal, savoring the tastes in his mouth for this brief moment of calm that he had. At least, as calm as it could be with Lyke's furious eating habits. Abram guessed that without he tongue she didn't want to be seen eating, as the process was more difficult for her. He could respect that, so he tried to ignore her and let her finish in peace. As soon as she did she was off to the tub upstairs, a distinct spring in her gait as she practically vaulted up the last few steps.


Abram looked around at their company as he continued to eat. Sam was digging in heartily, showing an appetite that looked more suited to two men of Abram's size. Meanwhile Adelaide had yet to take her seat, and Abram wasn't exactly sure why. He figured she would eat soon before the food grew cold though, and instead decided to address Sam's ravenous inhalation of his food. "Like the food?" he said after he had swallowed a bit of meat and carrots in his broth.


@PixelWitch @Bardiel
 
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Sam


The young man looks up as Abram addresses him. His mouth is full. Very full. He tries clumsily to smile through his rabbit cheeks. Broth leaks out.


He chokes, crams bread in to stem the flow, and gives a double thumbs up, spoon still in hand.


... He's already on his third bowl.
 
Abram





It took all of his strength to not choke on his own food when Abram saw the state Sam had put himself in. He wasn't sure if the lad looked more like a rabbit or a squirrel, or even a pelican for that matter. But whatever beast he resembled, Abram was sure that Sam could fit far more food down his gullet than the hedge knight could ever hope to. The boy was eating for three for God's sake!


Abram tried his best to stifle his chuckling as he finished off his own bowl. He let the broth settle in his mouth for a moment before he swallowed the last bite of stew. He sighed long and low as he felt the warmth of the meal reach for his extremities out from his core. 'Almost as good as mother's,' he thought to himself before he reached for his drink. He brought the mug to his lips but stopped short as he thought of something. This company had spent a few weeks on the road together, and they'd already survived at least one strange encounter on the way over. And if that 'dog' on the mantle was any indication of the local beasts, Abram suspected they might be seeing more queer things in their time as a company. Abram hoped that they'd be successful in these new endeavors, in this new land. And with that thought in mind he straightened his back and raised his mug towards the center of the table in a toast. "To the company," he stated, a calm smile playing at his lips as he waited for the others to follow suit.


@PixelWitch @Bardiel
 
Osric Silkhand





Satisfied with negotiations, Osric returns to the inn in search of the rest of the company with an exaggerated swagger in his step - playing up the roguish mercenary. He spies Abram and Sam, and heads for their table, sitting with a mild grin.


"Good news - food is on the town," he says, with a wink at Sam.
 
Sam


If there was such a thing as Christmas in Imeria, Osric's news made it come early. His eyes light up with ecstatic glee and for a moment he looks ready to hug the nobleman from across the table. Instead, he settles for a clink of the tankards, offering to get him a drink, dumb grin still plastered on his face.
 
Abram


Abram smiled to himself when he heard the news about the food, glad that they could enjoy tonight without much hassle. He sipped his ale and thought about asking the barkeep for their money back if that were the case, but then another thought suddenly pounced into his mind. It caught him so off guard that he nearly choked on his drink and roughly put his mug back on the table. He turned his head and with utter seriousness said to Osric, "Where is Darius?"


@Grey
 
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Osric Silkhand





Osric glances around the room, his grin at Sam fading when Abram speaks.


"With the wagon?" he says, hopefully.
 
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Abram


Abram sighs heavily before downing the rest of his ale in one swig. He slams the mug down on the table before pointing upstairs and speaking to those gathered at the table. "Somebody get Lyke, would ye? I'll go check the wagon." Abram then rose from his seat and grabbed his poleaxe before marching out the door, heading directly for where they had left their wagon outside.


@Silvertongued @Grey @PixelWitch @Teh Frixz
 
Osric Silkhand





Osric nods, watching Abram leave, and then look to Sam.


"Sam, when you finish that, get Lyke, there's a good chap," he says. "I have an inkling."


He turns on his heel and without further explanation, leaves the inn in search of the local church.
 
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