Someone had come in. It was uncertain at first who, but after a moment they kicked their boots on the door frame and marched over to the bar, clanking, and jingles sounding with every step. None of the others flinched when the stranger walked in, it was common enough in a town like this; Jinn forest on either side and the Fleya River crossing through.
After a moment, the newcomer stepped into the light of the bar, curves, and edges suddenly apparent. He was quite handsome, and a large fellow, a foot or two taller than the tallest man here.
He sniffed and pulled out a small leather pouch, "two nights please," his voice was soft and low, like a storm crackling in the distance.
The barkeep nodded and swiped up the pouch, "only a moment," she said.
With a scraping of wood against wood, one of the nearby men pushed away from his table and squandered over to the stranger. His shirt stained with food, beer, and blood, showing signs it hadn't been washed in ages.
The man licked his teeth and looked the newcomer up and down, "you been here before?"
Silence.
The man stiffened and his bones cracked as he turned to face the others from his table, "we got a mouse," he chuckled, "we don't like mice here,"
The barkeep returned with a key, laid it down on the counter, and slid it over to the stranger. She then shot a glance at the man, "leave 'im alone, Vars,"
"I seen his face before," Vars pressed his finger against the stranger's cheek, "this scar. He was here with that sheep,"
The stranger picked up the keys from the counter and pushed away from the bar, "thank you." Again, his voice was soft and low.
"Aye," Vars grabbed the man's arm, "I's talkin' with you, mouse,"
Several of the men from the other table stood up, one of them spat, "he's talking with ya, mouse,"
The bard strum one last chord before the room went silent. All the conversations ceased and eyes turned towards the two men. Incoherent whispers shared amongst some of the tables, but the stranger stood tall, staring down at the man who was attempting to withhold him.
"Vars," the barkeep said, "if you and your gang plan on harrasin' my customers, you can find yourselves another inn to populate,"
The man let out a grunt and shoved the stranger away, "fine, Mira... but if I see that sheep-"
"That's enough Vars," she said and nodded towards where the other men were standing, "go sit down,"
One of the men from the table reached his hand to grab Vars, but he jerked them away and turned to the table.
"I can do it," he spat.
-
The stranger took a deep breath and looked down at his key before finding the matching room. He laid down his pack, and threw off his cloak, draping it over one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. The bed seemed hardly large enough, and his feet would surely hand off the footboard. Still, he sat at the bedside and kicked off his boots.
He sat in peace for a few moments before a knock sounded from the door.
"Yes?" he asked.
The barkeep, Mira, opened the door just a crack; he hadn't locked the door.
"May I come in?" she asked.
"Yes," he said again.
She pushed open the door, revealing her hands to be full. She held a tray that supported a wooden bowl, accompanied by a morsel of bread. She laid it down on the small round table next to the chair.
"Brought you some stew," she said, "thought you might want something to eat," she smiled at him. A fairly average girl, brown hair cut at the nape, freckles spotted across her nose and cheeks.
The stranger reached over for his bag, but she put her hands over his.
"No need for that." she said, guiding his hands away, "it's on the house... consider it an apology,"
He nodded, "thank you,"
Mira sighed and pressed her back against the doorframe, "you're not Trimean?"
"Vimskira," he said flatly.
Her eyes lit up, "Vimskira? What are you doing this far south?"
"Meeting someone,"
"Here? In Bardugh?" she laughed a little, "Why here?"
He smiled, "a sheep."
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