Gallimaufry

Story Idea # 5

Rejects

The Last Piglet wasn't anything special of a place.

An inn at a crossroads with a tavern that served half decent food. The rooms were clean, linen changed between guests and you didn't find yourself sharing a room unless you wanted to. Surrounded by an old, dark orchard, it brewed its own cider, though the ale it had came from the monastery that was a day's ride away. As did the cheese, which the inn was particularly famous for amongst the higher end of the travelling ilk. But all kinds arrived and left through the doors. Tired mares with sway backs were stabled beside glistening geldings that pranced and had their own grooming team.

Everyone got the same cider, same ale, same meal. The rooms were mostly the same, though there were supposedly a few that were far more expensive than the normal ones, but no one could blame the innkeeper for wanting to expand her income.

The tavern itself was dark, filled with the smell of food, ale and people, though there was pride in the gleaming wood floors and walls that were oiled and cleaned twice daily, and the brass sconces that were polished to reflect the low light their flames emitted.

The place was a refuge a day's ride out of the last free city in the neutral territories, where merchants and rangers ruled. Surrounded on two sides by nations that had a chilly-yet-not-violent-this-year relationship, one side by towering mountains that led into the uncharted lands humans didn't venture to. And the final side of the neutral territory led straight off the edge of the continent into the angry sea beyond.

People came here to find glory or lose themselves, depending on where their life was taking them at that particular moment.

"I'm pretty sure this is the table. See the knife marks?" The four of us had arrived only minutes before, as a cold spring rain had started and after having our saddle bags taken up to the two rooms we were sharing, we had sat down at one of the open tables. Klio was running her fingers over the gouged surface, and barely looked up when the wait staff, an attractive looking man who offered me a grin and a wink, set down our pints of cider.

"You're right. This is the table that the Black Knight used to plan his campaign into the mountains." The waiter chuckled softly, glancing around the table, "Special is roast duck stew and ale-bread with a selection of cheeses."

"I fucking knew it." Klio beamed at him, before glancing at her partner. The two women were polar opposites despite both being of fey heritage somewhere in their blood lines. Kilo was dark skinned and dark haired with brilliant gold eyes, her ears pointed enough that no one could mistake the ranger for a human.

Veisal was pale skinned, with silver hair and light blue eyes, her ears even longer despite her lacking the typical light, willowy elven look. A good thing that she was more inclined to wade into the chaos of battle with her two axes, she was well toned and a head shorter than her archery inclined companion.

As much as Klio talked, Veisal was silent, balancing one another out easily. Cyrus nodded from beside me, flashing the waiter a brilliantly charming smile. "I think that sounds great for all of us."

His voice was soothing, like a brook over rocks, and never failed to send shivers up my spine. And judging by the server's look, it worked equally well on others too. The three of us nodded and the waiter flashed another grin before walking away.

"Nice, Cyrus. You're going to wake up with him crawling into bed with you." Klio rolled her eyes and took a drink as Veisal smirked softly and shook her head. "So, fearless leader, what's the plan?"