Dot!
Doting!
... --- ...
Dots for everyone!
Sandpoint has always considered itself a sleepy little town just north of Magnimar. The goblins have mostly ceased to be a threat since the back of a vile plot was broken a few years ago, finally ending the Late Unpleasantness. The roads have never been safer, or the Rusty Dragon quieter. Many of Varisia's adventurers make for Xin-Shalast, the legendary City of Greed, now, leaving Sandpoint as quiet as ever.
Or so the citizen's had hoped.
Fireworks have been seen and heard over Brinestump Swamp, a trackless morass of mud, trees, and goblins. The Licktoads have become more and more aggressive of late, attacker travelers and merchants on the road. Rumor has it that Belor is even planning to reinstate the Goblin Bounty, but the people of Sandpoint haven't begun to worry yet. Surely the goblins will do themselves in well before they make too much of a menace of themselves.
The dawn comes and sears away the mists of night as the bell in the Catehdral tolls the hour. And so we find our heroes rising to greet the coming day.
Shelby shakes her head sleepily, clearing the cobwebs. Silently, she says a prayer to Iomedae, thanking her for not requiring her followers to rise before the sun to greet the coming day. Reaching up and feeling the mess on top of her head causes a sigh to emit from her. Some days she wants to just throw in the towel and let it grow out, but she knows the men will never take her seriously with a 'woman's' cut. She already has a hard enough time getting noticed.
She wanders to the basin in her room, cupping some tepid water in her hands and splashing her face to complete the job of waking herself up. She then splashes some on her hair, running a brush through it to calm the wild thicket into a more reasonable semblance. She looks to the side of the basin and a flicker of a smile comes to her lips. Koya has again placed some powder and blush on the counter. Ignoring the offering, she proceeds to dress for the day, pulling on her garments, then her underleathers (groaning as she struggles to pull the leather over her now curvy form), finally the polished scale mail she wears. Pulling on straps and buckling buckles by memory, she is already going through her combat routine in her mind.
Fully outfitted, she creeps through the small home, knowing she is making a racket but at least making the attempt to be silent in case anyone is still sleeping. Liera had been known to stay up late and sleep until midmorning or later, and Koya was advancing in years. Shelby snorts as she remembers a point a couple of years ago where Koya had asked if she could just take everything outside and change there. How the woman had laughed at Shelby's look of indignation!
Sitting in the living room, she sits in the most austere chair, unsheathing her sword. After laying it next to her, she takes a cloth and pours a bit of polish on it, squeezing the cloth to spread the oil. She then proceeds to polish her blade, having sharpened it the night before according to her routine. Once the blade was polished, she would head outside, going through her stances and attack and defense routines before heading to the Cathedral for her semi-daily lessons with the Iomedaean clergy.
Archibald rises just after dawn. He is slow to wake, so the time from his waking to his rising spans half an hour. He slow to dress as sleep oozes from him. He dresses in his parade armor, as usual. Outwardly it takes the appearance of a coat with tails, waistcoat, seamed breeches, and top hat. However, the tailors of Middlebrook sewed in plates and mail where appropriate. This added protection, but also added time in its complicated method of donning.
Archibald didn't mind. Complicated was his business, as was obscure and hidden. What mystery would he dig up today, he wondered.
Once properly dressed he snatches up his sword cane, fixes his monocle in place, and proceeds to the common room of the Rusty Dragon. He had been staying here for several weeks now, and it was beginning to feel like home in spite of how absurdly huge everything was. No one seemed to know how to make anything around here without doubling all the measurements! Still, the food was excellent, for humans.
It was before the sun even rose Lou arrived to get things in order at the Dragon. starting the cooking fires, setting the pots for the various dishes.
lighting the fire under his Wok, the section Amieko set aside for Lou to make his special dishes. the shelf above lines with the various exotic spices.
Lou never would ask how Amieko ever came to have such a fine collection, he was just greatful she had it.
By the time the sun had risen and the doors werre to open, a pot of broth was keeping warm spiced just right and bowls set up with the ingredients for Miso soup.
a large pot was boiling away steaming the rice.
As the Salmon is steaming Lou prepares a small sign detailing the breakfast special:
Salmon Teriyaki
Shaved Bermuda Onion with Bonito Flakes and Ponzu Sauce
Spicy Chinese Daikon and Refreshing Japanese Cucumber Pickles
Miso Soup
Rice
Seasoned Seaweed with Soy Sauce
Just-Picked Bermuda Strawberries
He then goes out to the common room setting some of the papers (signs) on the tables for customer's to see.
when complete Lou starts preparing several plates as customers begin to arrive from upstairs.
travellers staying at the Dragon usually always arrived well before others.
Archibald climbs, literally, into a bar stool and looks over the breakfast menu with a practiced eye. Lou always prepared interesting food, and today was no exception.
I'll have my usual, Lou , and a mug of mulled wine with a dash of that green spice you added last time, if you have it.
Clink.
One pointed ear flicks.
Clink.
Roused from slumber, the rabbit begins burrowing his way into the pillows and blankets.
Clink.
A flexible tail flicks in response, stroking the rabbit's fur.
Clink.
Groaning, Liera pulls herself upright, understanding at last that no amount of pillows over her head will block out the sounds of a woman in scale mail 'creeping' down the hallway. Perhaps it was the pointed ears, perhaps the whispers from the shadows, but no matter how quiet her adoptive sister tried to be, it was never quite quiet enough.
She remains in bed awhile longer, hoping to not confirm outright that Shelby had woken her. After all, she was forced to concede, she at least sounded like she was trying. She couldn't fault her for that.
After what she hopes is long enough, she drags herself from bed, balancing on her hooves as she crosses to the basin. Speckle watches from the bed, munching on dry biscuits, as she washes her face, begins the process of wrapping her hair around her horns. She paints her claws, pulls on her uncomfortable shoes, wraps her tail about her waist. She dresses in her usual loose, layered skirts, her loose blouse cinched tighter at the waist. Finally, she retrieves her hat. It wouldn't do her much good indoors, but out in the sun, it might cast enough shade on her face to disguise her more unusual features.
Finally, picking up the rabbit, she makes her way out into the hall. Her heart sinks as she reaches the living room - Shelby was still there. She hadn't waited long enough.btaking a deep breath, hoping to avoid another theology lesson, she makes her way past her, crossing quickly to the door, forcing a smile and a nod and a "Good morning".
"Good morning." The dark-haired woman does not look up from her activity. "It's nice to see you able to greet the sun some days. I fear you'll soon forget what it looks like, the sleeping habits you've had lately." At this the woman flicks her dark eyes up at the younger girl. Yup, it was definitely going to be one of 'those' days.
The morning sun danced across Tshilaba's eyes as he lay uncomfortably on his bedroll. He moved his head to try to escape the rising sun, but to no avail and he rose irritably to a seated position. He looked about at his shabby tent riddled with holes. Most of the holes were his own doing as he had thrown a good two or three decks of cards in here and invariably some miss their target. Business was getting bad too. He was no longer with a traveling group and the city wasn't large enough to support his lifestyle, if one could call living in a barely usable tent at the edge of town a lifestyle.
He rose to his feet and consulted the cards. The Forge, The Cylclone and the Survivor. "I couldn't agree more. He said to no one in particular. The fortune teller reached over for his lamp and lit the old thing. It had already cracked several nights ago when a skeptical customer and rocked the table. It was next to worthless already because it leaked oil, not something you really want near an open flame.
He filled his pockets with the essentials, namely his full decks and went over to the side of his tent. He stuck one finger from each hand and opened a new door to walk out. Walking around the tent he pulled up all the stakes, tossing them in toward the middle of the tent and creating a ballooning effect in the fabric. He pulled a card from his sleeve and threw it through the tent, hitting the thin tent pole studded with cards and the whole thing crashed into a heap with little ceremony. With slightly more ceremony, the fortune teller dumped the lit lamp on his tent and watched it burn.
It took but a few minutes and a stick to make sure that the fire didn't spread into the forest before all his worldly possessions were now either in his pockets or ash on the side of the road. It was time for a change, although he didn't know what. He decided to use his remaining coins for breakfast and see what happened next. He wandered into town, giving the confused guardsman at the gate a friendly smile and wave. "I don't know how long I'll be staying, so make sure you tell the new wife I said that she won't feel better soon. And congratulations on the new baby." He gave the man a hearty hand shake as a funny smile came over his face. "That one's on the house."
The fortune teller left the guardsman at the gate and meandered into town, feeling like a burden had been lifted off of his shoulders.
Hand reaching for the doorknob, Liera winces, Shelby's words cutting through the air like a knife. Sensing her discomfort, the rabbit in her arms crawls up to her shoulder, touching his own pink nose to her slightly pointed one.
"I've been trying to get up earlier," she lies, her voice slipping naturally into its meek, subservient tone. "Ameiko's been asking me to come in for the breakfast rush." She scratches Speckle behind his ears, silently wishing she could melt into the floor. "And without the sun, there is no shade, is there not?" It could have been a stab, but the words were out before she could stop them.
With a small cough, she turns back to the door. "Tell Koya I'll be home late." With those words, she slips out into the morning sun, squinting against the light as she pulls on her hat. Speckle climbs up her shoulder, perching atop her crown, sniffing the morning air.
The morning was harsh to Liera's eyes, but the smooth patches of shade it provided were comforting, as if the darkness was slipping into slumber. Light may come and go, but darkness is always there - in the deepest night, when the sun slumbers; in the height of the sun's power, in the small shadows clustered around feet and roots. There would always be darkness.
Darkness around her. Darkness within her.
With a shudder, she pulls her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her hat slightly lower on her head (much to the disdain of the fluffy white leporid). In this manner, she makes her way to the Dragon. Ameiko asking her to start earlier may have been a lie, but perhaps Lou could use a hand. It wasn't as though she had anything better to do.
From the corner of her eye, she sees a stranger entering town, the guard appearing flustered at something he'd apparently said. After watching for a moment, she realises she's staring, and hurries on to her place of employment.
Her ebony eyebrow arches at the obvious lie. Ameiko either worked her foster-sister fourteen hours a day (Shelby knew she worked the evenings, since that was when she visited the Dragon), or she was just looking to escape the conversation. She sighs at the woman slipped into her 'younger sister' voice, having meant well. An apology starts to form in her mind, but then the passive aggressive comment slipped out from Liera.
In addition to the obvious challenge, the girl's mention of the sun (even though Shelby herself had brought it up) had stirred up bad memories. Her face screws up, eyes narrowing in cold fury. She nods to Liera's request, too angry to trust herself to speak. A small voice in her mind whispered that she had started it as the girl slipped out the door, but she shook her head, chasing it away. The woman was turning to darkness for comfort, and needed to be cleansed!
Sighing again, she closed her eyes, meditating her anger and frustration away. Once she was more herself, she opened the door, setting it closed quietly, stepping outside into the cool morning air. She immediately pulls out her sword, grasping it with both hands, going through a multitude of forms, holding poses that might amuse onlookers, but that built up the strength in her core, shoulders, and arms. After a few minutes, she starts swinging the blade in controlled circles, waving it about aggressively in obvious attack routines. She would practice with a one-handed grip and shield later, going over her defense routines, but she always started with offense.
As she goes through her regimen, she spies a young man walking down the street. Sweat already pouring down her brow from her short hair, she rolls her eyes in irritation as she notices it is the damnable young fortune-teller. The man had been dogging her for days since he had told her fortune in the Dragon. However, she would be damned if he would disrupt her morning. She continues to practice, drawing breath in through her nose, out through her mouth as she had been taught.
The town was alive with activity early in the morning, smoke was pouring out of chimneys into the waxing light as people bustled about looking to get about the day's activities. The Sandpointians, Sandpointers, Sandpointlings, or whatever were a pretty cheery lot for the most part. Some group of do gooders did something nice like beat up some giants or something... It wasn't really important.
There were a couple of exceptions to the rule. There was that cute little shy girl running off to the Dragon. By the time he noted that she had been looking his way she had already scuttled off toward her workplace. He didn't really remember her working mornings before. Perhaps he'd ask her about it. She always seemed so nervous around him, a little more exposure should help her settle down. After all, he was just a normal guy with the power of foresight and could turn pieces of paper into lethal weapons... "Ah, that's probably why. He said to no one in particular. Well, things were changing today, perhaps he'd talk to her again.
Then there was the other one. Her adopted sister over there with the sword. The cheapskate. He'd given her a particularly good (in his own opinion) reading and she had lobbed a copper at him for it. A copper! How was he supposed to eat on a copper a reading? In a town this size he was lucky if he did more than a couple readings a day. Then there was upkeep, cards were expensive. Now normally walking up to a fit young person swinging a sword about wasn't the best idea, but Tshilaba paid such a notion no mind.
The young man called to her across the street as he was passing by.. "You know, I'm not sure it works better if you make faces like that." He decided to smile at her and wave it off as a joke. Changes were coming after all. Maybe she'd change her mind about readings or the value of his service. Women were known to do that in the past.
Suddenly a wave of regret and sorrow assailed him. He needed to clear his head. He headed over to the Dragon for some breakfast. Perhaps there was some interesting thing on the menu he could use to distract his melancholy.
Datura woke just before dawn to the sounds of a loud squawk and crunch. He is not startled however, as Awd often likes to start the day with whatever fool bird is tricked into landing on her open mouth by her wormlike 'tongue'. He could swear that, despite her inability to do so, Awd is always smiling when eating. He reaches up to pull a loose feather half hanging out of her mouth, but before he can do so she sucks it in the rest of the way as she chews.
He starts talking to her, in the Sylvan tongue he used to train her, "Good morning Awd, how was your night?" She just 'stares' eyelessly at him, chewing contentedly. "Uneventful, you say? Well, that's nice to hear. I see you've already had breakfast. Would you mind if I gather a little something before we head out?" She finishes chewing. "Thank you. Care to join me? Come!" He begins to forage for any wild berries, and some edible roots, Awd just follows right behind him.
After he has gathered enough to feel sated, he thanks Gozreh for the bounty they were given, and begins to settle his few belongings for a bit of a walk. "Awd, we're going to town again today. I think Shalelu said she would be around today. You remember her, right? The friend of mine from long ago." Awd stops and spreads her mouth of petals wide to create a bowl shaped surface. This is how she displays her lures. The petals glisten with bright color, and if that isn't enough, the moistness has a sickly-sweet aroma. Meanwhile, the stamen dances slightly like a worm to attract other prey. She is a wonder in the number of ways she has to attract all the different types of prey she will eat. Datura is no longer surprised by what living things she will eat, only the rare occasions she doesn't.
He nods, as if she had told him she is ready to go. With that, he makes his way toward the bustling center of Sandpoint where this Rusty Dragon sits where Shalelu can be found when she visits. Datura nervously tries to fix his appearance a little, but doesn't really know what he could do. He looks at Awd with a litte guilt, "What? I'm just making myself presentable." She turns toward a sound, maybe a squirrel or bird in the brush. "No, not just for her. It's important to always make good first impressions."
Shelby grit her teeth, her jaw clenched as she tries to ignore the man. Her anger and frustration from earlier seep through, and she calls out to the man, still swinging her weapon vigorously. "Did your cards tell you that, Master Tshilaba, or did you come to that conclusion on your own? I only ask because I fear you might charge me for the former!" Sneering at the man, she turns her back to him, taking out her shield and beginning to practice her defensive formations, now.
The young woman's pluck still made him smile. Their shouted conversation was gaining a little attention and that might be a good thing. "You get what you pay for, Selbarina! He nearly sang her name in a delightful tone as he kept walking down the street. "Just being pretty doesn't pay the tab!"
He was, of course, talking about himself. She probably would take it wrong but she had a good habit of doing that and he could count on her for it. He had a few copper left for breakfast and then he'd have to find something else to do. Rumor had it that there might be a new bounty on Goblin ears. That would help the pockets feel a bit more heavy. He could also use a few good meals as he was getting frightfully skinny.
Silent as a specter, Jin edged past the unconscious Jasper. Being caught in the act was always a danger, but men were so easy to subdue, if you knew right where to kick them. She sidled past the thick, lock-picked door and strolled east down Market Street, through the morning sun of what promised to be a gorgeous day.
East on Market it had to be, for east at the intersection of Salmon and Market was the Fatman's Feedbag], a particularly troublesome tavern of ill-repute run by Jubrayl Vhiski, the Sczarni boss in Sandpoint. Normally, Jin wouldn't have paid particular attention to that detail. She was no stranger to crime and, more than once, Jubrayl had hired Jin to slip into a secure building and slip out with something that didn't belong to her. But she couldn't be sure that Jasper wouldn't be missed and awkward questions would have to be asked.
Her stomach grumbled noisily. She hadn't eaten since the previous night, since she wandered into the woods to find the poison ivy. Lou would probably have something ready to eat by now. Jasper likely would become more of a nuisance than before, since he caught Jin in the act of her prank, but that was a problem for another time. For now, she was hungry.
Turning the corner onto Market, an idea fixed itself in the young woman's mind. She dropped to all fours and launched off her legs, so that she was standing on her hands. Then, neck craning to better see obstacles in her path, she walked hand-over-hand to the Rusty Dragon. In her usual fashion, she hadn't managed to think the whole plan out. Half-way to the inn, she realized that she couldn't open the door with her feet. She didn't want to right herself either; it would ruin her entrance. That's when she spotted Liera, the overly-shy waitress that usually worked the night shift at the Dragon.
"Oh! Oh, Liera! Could you get the door for me? My hands are full." she called out.
Her face burns at his retort, for a few reasons. First of all, who had told the damnable man her full name! There weren't many who knew it, and she would have words with whomever had spilled the beans about a need for discretion. Secondly, implying that she was cheap. The man had blathered a bunch of nonsense! He was lucky she had flicked a copper coin his way. Third, the bit about the pretty face was what truly angered her (she took it as though he said it about her). She worked hard at what she did, and hated to be called out for her looks instead of ability. Comments like, "That was good, for a woman." grated on her to no end.
She resists the urge to pick up a rock and throw it at the man. Similarly, she resists the urge to shout at him, realizing he will turn any sort of attention into a self-aggrandizing act. She goes back to what she was doing, thrusting with her blade while moving her shield about to various points, fending off imaginary attackers. Once done, she feels exhausted. Her hair is plastered to her head, soaked with sweat, and her muscles burn with the effort.
She goes back inside, sharing a few words with Koya before stating, "Liera said she would be in late. I will see you later after my trip to the Dragon." She says the latter in a grudging tone. Turning, she starts walking to the Cathedral, sweeping her inky hair to the side to some semblance of respectability.
Datura almost regretted his trips into town. The walk was pleasant and brisk, fresh air, sunlight, the wind through the boughs, and the sounds of nature that he loved so much all faded the closer he got. They instead turned to a clanging of metal, smoke from hearths, and the incessant noise of people that all seem to talk at once but never listen.
Even worse, the whole thing is topped off by the oddities one finds in the cluster of too many people stuffed into too small a community. Just on his trip in he witnessed a woman attacking air while having a yelled conversation, if such a thing can be said to exist, with a passerby. Then approaching the inn itself, a young woman decided to walk on her hands as if her legs were incapable, except she was using them right before switching. The latter he gave a little space to enter the building before he himself approached the door and went inside.
As soon as he does, he scans the whole room for any sign of Shalelu, all the while keeping one eye on Awd to ensure she doesn't try to eat anything or anyone she shouldn't. He does spot one person, which he had almost forgotten about, and soon regrets making eye contact. It was too late, so he instead forces a strained half smile and nod at the chatterbox halfling in the ostentatious wardrobe. Archibald, he is called, if Datura remembers correctly.
"Ah, Shelby, I would ask how are things, but from the frown on your face, I am guessing that the answer is not very good. What's troubling you?" The holy warrior is busy polishing her sword, a magnificent bastard sword gifted to her long ago by an unknown admirer.
"And would it kill you to smile? Keep frowning like that and your face is gonna stick that way."
"My foster-sister flirts with shadows, a young con man takes every opportunity to goad me, and I can hardly fit into these leathers anymore!" A crease appears above her nose at that.
"Good, I hope it DOES stick that way. At least people might take me seriously then. Or at least quit mocking me to my face." Her large dark brown eyes lock onto the older woman's, and just a glint of moisture appears in the corner to indicate the younger woman's frustration.
"Why do you say such things? If people mock you, let them. It's there loss on getting to know a beautiful young woman. What does it matter what others think? Do what's right and you'll be rewarded Miss Renarin," Quinta gently fires back. She stops polishing the sword and sets it aside so she can stand and grip the younger priestess by the shoulders.
"You are always worried about what others think. You should worry about doing what is right, and not just what the law says is right," She says softly before guiding the woman into the seat next to where she was before sitting on the pew in front at and facing her young charge.
"I understand your concerns with your sister, share them even. Lecturing her, however, isn't going to improve the situation. If you truly believe there is cause for alarm, I will, of course, be happy to talk to her. Be patient, a wise tactician waits for the right opening and studies so she can recognize it. Can you tell me you know Liera well enough to be able to tell me what her hopes, or her dreams are? What about her fears?" Quinta asks seriously. her expression one she often used on wayward acolytes and orphans.
"As for this man, whoever he is, are you certain that he is trying to goad you? Perhaps he sees it as you have goaded him. Justice is a noble cause, but blindly following the law, without trying to understand both sides can only lead you to folly. Some men do not deserve mercy, you know that better than even I, but there are those that do? Consider what it's like from where he stands."
"As for the leathers, you've had them since you were twelve, I'm surprised they haven't popped at the seams considering how you've grown. Fortunately, that problem's easy to fix. Let me put away my sword and we'll go to Savah's to see about getting you something that actually fits a woman instead of a girl."
Lou brings several dishes of the morning special to any that are in the common room.
He seems to be looking for someone as he serves the customers, wondering where his help is. as well as someone else...
For the second time already, Liera freezes, staring at Jin as the girl approaches, walking on her hands. She nods quickly, nearly sending Speckle toppling from her hat, and opens the door, allowing her to enter first before slipping in behind her. She says little, offering Jin the same smile, nod and "Good morning," she'd offered her foster-sister.
Making her way to the kitchen, keeping her head down, she misses the sight of the strange elf with the walking plant - it would likely give her pause, were she not too busy staring at the floor. She slips through the tavern to the kitchen, smiling at Lou as she takes off her hat, transferring the rabbit to her shoulder.
"Is there anything I can help with?" she asks meekly, gripping her hat tightly. "I know I'm in early..."
Archibald hails the acrobat, Good Morning! How does the world look from my level?
Her head cocks, confused. "Does Iomedae not teach us to uphold the Law? Laws are objective things, concrete. Thou shalt. Thou shalt not. There is no room for interpretation. Doing what is 'right' is a lovely concept, but very ambiguous. You sound much like my Ma." Shelby smiles at Quinta, the comment meant to tease slightly, but is very much a compliment.
At the mention of Liera, her gaze is averted, flame creeping onto her cheeks as shame comes over her. "I guess I've been too busy trying to beat the darkness out of her to ask." She mumbles this, head drooping.
Her head perks up again at the mention of the Law. This was something she understood well, could retort to! "Why write down codes of conduct and behavior if not to follow them? If we were to leave society to the good graces of fellow men, we would surely be doomed! Oh sure, there are those who will do well no matter what, but for every one of them, there are three waiting to take advantage of him, rob him, or murder him."
"His reading was complete rubbish, Mistress. He could not even get my past correct, and his reading of my future not only was incorrect, I am sure, but caused me great embarrassment! What cause has he for such behavior? If someone sells me something that does not work, I refuse to pay for it." At this her arms cross in unconscious defiance. She was not ready to give on this subject.
Again she blushes at the mention of Savah's. "I think that would be best, Mistress. I feel as though people are staring at me in this getup. I must look quite ridiculous." The woman brings her head up, her father's warm brown eyes meeting Quinta's. She starts to follow the older woman to Savah's, her previous unguarded state gone. On the streets, her back is straight, her head held high. Her armor glistens in the sun, the metal well-worn, but well taken care of.
Lou simply hands Liera a tray with the breakfast special on it. take this to the noble looking halfling, and he might need a drink re-fill.
and be careful, that soup is hot.
Lou quickly gets back to making some more traditional varisian dishes where is Amieko? he mutters to himself.
Almost as if summoned, the young Innkeeper comes form her room in the back and sees both Liera and Lou working. She looks curiously at the shy woman before heading over to Lou.
"Lou, doesn't Liera start in the afternoon? I thought she'd still be asleep."
"Well, that does tend to happen when you wear clothes that you should have replaced years ago," Quinta chuckles as she gathers her things and sheathes the sword after inspecting it.
"Come, walk with me."
The paladin leads Shelby to her quarters in the Cathedral. Her pace is slow and measured.
"All I will say about the young man, and I think I know who is is you are talking about, is that next time, bring Koya along, she's knowledgeable in such matters and can help you discern a fake from those with that rare talent for prophesy. She should be able to help you avoid fulfilling such prophecies inadvertently as well." A smile plays on her lips before fading into a look of deep concern.
"What has me worried is your views about good and law. Laws are not so cut and dry as you seem to think, and doing good isn't as vague as you believe. Take Cheliax," her eyes darken briefly as dark memories surface, "After Aroden's death, House Thrune rose to power, and now Thrune and its agents wish to impose what they call 'Hell's Perfect Order' onto all. Devils follow the law to the letter, but twist things so that they are always in the right and those that aren't as clever nor as cruel as they find themselves under their heel. Further more, Slavery in Cheliax is legal, but in Andoran, it is not. Which one's the correct law to follow? But good, good doesn't change just because you cross some line on a map. If you work to better the lot of those you, even if it's only a little at a time, you are doing good. Doing what's right requires you to take things into your own hands and trust your judgement, there are times you will make mistakes, sometimes even fatal ones, but saying that doing what's right is too ambiguous is the cowards way out, and you do not strike me as a coward, Shelby."
Jin handwalks through the open door. Seeing that the sole occupants of the room were Archibald and a tattooed elf, she waddles over to them, finishing her bizarre trek with a cartwheel. She bows deeply to the pair, before taking a seat. "Good morning, Archie. The only thing I took from it is that Sandpoint has disgusting streets." Making a face while wiping her hands on her trousers, she looks up at the elf. "Who's your friend?"
"Koya would likely laugh at me and tell me it's one of life's lessons. I think I can manage this one." She smiles without mirth.
Shelby listens intently to the story of the Fall of Cheliax to the devil-god, nodding in 'understanding' at the mention of laws of slavery. Her eyes widen slightly and she sharply inhales as she finally gets the point the woman is trying to convey, wincing at the woman's words. Pride and anger have her start to reply, "Mistress, I try to get those around me to do what is right..." Her words trail off as she lowers her eyes. She looks to the side, nodding her head to indicate understanding before attempting to look the woman in the eyes once more.
Archibald wines a little at her nickname for him. It was entirely too familiar. Try as he might though he couldn't convince the bouncy girl to change it.
This is Datura, a good enough man with a savage plant for a pet. Don't get too close to the flower, my dear. I was inspecting it one day a while back and the thing tried to eat me! And damaged my good hat in the process! Savage thing. More importantly, he is a friend of Shalelu's! I suffer his plant's presence for that fact alone.
Datura is recognizable to Lou at least as having been in before and bad customer. It's not that he causes problems, as fights and drunks are typically the expectation in most inns or taverns, it's that he doesn't actually order anything. He just sits and waits, usually on the days Shalelu shows up. He also looks down his nose at just about every food they serve, preferring raw fruits and vegetables to any cooked meal. The plant, according to him, prefers live meals.
Datura had only once made the mistake of offering to let Awd chase any rats in the larder, and had almost been thrown out by the proprietor for the insinuation that she had rats in her establishment. It doesn't stop her from opening her bloom and waiting patiently beside him, though he does have to ensure she doesn't nip at any gnomes or halflings that have become too curious about her. It's actually how he met the insufferable halfling.
As the odd hand walker approaches and asks Archibald about him, he answers for himself with the charm that comes from living mostly alone in the wilds. "I can speak for myself, my name is Datura, that is ture. That filth on your hands comes from the improper handling of waste that is common within cities, and the cobblestones used in paving prevent the earth from properly absorbing it as intended. Add to that the diets of city folk, and it's especially disgusting."
As Archibald explains Awd, Datura scowls, "She is not savage, she lives as Gozreh intends. She is a predator by nature, and if one acts too much like prey, that is what they become." Awd just stands oblivious to being the subject of the discussion, but with his angry tone, she instinctively closes her mouth like all the other times he reprimands.
Liera nods eagerly at Lou's order, taking the tray from him (and surprising herself at the weight). Do halflings usually eat this much? she wonders curiously as she steps out into the common room, looking around for the customer in question.
Easy enough - there was only one halfling in the tavern, thank the gods. She crosses over to him with the tray, torn, as usual, between forcing a smile and not. She settles for keeping her head down, trusting her hair to cover her eyes.
"Your breakfast, sir," she nods, setting the tray before the strange fellow with the impressive hat. "Can I get any of you some drinks?" She inclines her head to Jin and the strange elf at this last, though tries not to look up, always keeping her eyes downcast.
Archibald turns to meet his meal with arms spread wide (not unlike Awd's petals, ironically). Splendid! Thank you so much! Now, to quench my thirst ... a nice mulled or spiced wine would do nicely. If you have none, a mug of your liveliest concoctions, please.
His attention shifts back to the conversation at hand. Oh, and he's very critical of anything caring to be something outside of perfectly natural. He leans into Jin and says in an easily heard whisper, I'm entirely convinced that he is suffering from a terminal lack of the basic necessities of life and a complete ignorance of the finer things. It's tragic, really.
Datura vehemently shakes his head at the offer of a drink, and is once again unintentionally insulting, "I couldn't, I have no idea where you get your 'fresh' water, if you even claim to have any." As he speaks he keeps casting sidelong glances at Awd, before ignoring the waitress completely to check on her.
Awd looks to almost be 'sniffing' the air, toward the waitress. Then she quickly unfurls her petals in a vibrant display of all her lures. Datura speaks to her with uncertainty "What are you doing? Do not bite that lady."
Back to the waitress he warns, "Do not be fooled by her display. Keep your limbs away from her. She is sensing and awaiting prey."
Archibald grunts and edges away on his stool even as he stretches up for a better look. It is an extraordinary specimen, I readily admit.
Jin, who had been inching closer to get a sniff of the enormous flower, pulls away abruptly when Archie warns her about Awd's tendency to snap at unsuspecting people. Before she can respond, the elf mentions that she was likely wrist deep in human waste. She sniffs her palm uncertainly. "I suppose you don't want to shake my hand then?"
Datura only nods in agreement with the hand-walker's question, he indeed does not want to shake her hand. Then again, he's never been one for the common courtesies required for introductions. He realizes he's beginning to feel crowded, which has happened more than once before due to the oddity that is Awd.
The feeling of the press of bodies, even though there's only three of them, causes him to press his back against the bar. His breathing becomes a little heavier, and he tries to focus on a soothing meadow to bring him back down to calm.
Jin shrugs and turns to Liera. "Has Lou put any coffee on? I could use a pick-me-up. Oh, and a bowl of water and a towel, I suppose. To wash my hands." She shows the other girl her dirty hands, as if Liera hadn't seen her walking on them moments ago.
She looks back to Datura. "Hey, bud. Are you okay?"