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Fantasy Uncertainty and Unease (Paused)

Peering from her hiding place, Louisa chewed at the bottom of her lip. She certainly couldn't stay where she was; she'd learn nothing there, for she could not hear so far away. But to get closer? That was quite risky. Tapping her chin with nervous fingers, she scanned the area around her before creeping up to the door. I just have to hide again before anyone walks out, she thought, attempting to make the feat sound simpler than it actually was.
 
Upon nearing the doors and shutting herself to all sounds but those coming from the room beyond, Louisa caught bits of conversation. Both voices were male. One belonged to the elf she followed, while the other one was unfamiliar, it sounded much older.

"Do you have it?"
"I do."
"And all the preparations have been completed."
"Yes."

A slight pause. Then it continued.

"And the girl?"
"I'm pretty sure she followed right behind me."

The conversation stopped abruptly. There was a sound of shuffling feet, the creak of floorboards.

  • Run and hide.
  • Stay there and wait.
  • Hide behind the door, ready to attack as they open.
 
She froze. This whole time, an agent of Alden's had been riding the same voyage and she hadn't even known! And why? Because his bookish, dare she say nerdy, demeanor had reminded her so much of Logan than she avoided him like the plague. Just as Alden planned, I bet, she fumed. He knew about Emily; knew Louisa had a habit of running from her feelings. And what did she do? Play right into his hands, predictable as always.

Livid and embarrassed, Louisa hid behind the door. Pulled out her pair of daggers. Predict, this, you wretched thug.
 
The footsteps stopped just behind the doors. A hesitant voice called out.

"Uh, look. I really don't want my throat to be slit." The elf addressed her through closed doors. "It would be much easier to go inside and talk this through. Besides, you don't want to stand in the open for too long, this town is not safe for you, as I think, none you travel through will be." The doors pulled open only slightly, not opening fully, the figure not showing himself still. "You've followed me up to here, now please come inside."

Louisa could now hear a conversation from the back of the alley she followed to this building. It was not deserted any longer and if she stayed in that position right at the doors, she would definitely alert the attention of passers by.

  • Storm inside.
  • Walk in quietly.
  • Run away.
 
Tensing, she tightened her grip on the hilt of her daggers. It is as if he can see me! Am I that obvious? Louisa began to panic. She could either storm inside and grab someone - preferably the elf, as he seemed close enough to the door for a chat - and try to apprehend him as hostage, or she could run. She didn't have long to decide, however; she could hear people coming. Her skin itched with anxiety and, before she'd even fully decided, she was running from the door and the voices and Alden's agents.

Of course Torhen wasn't safe - nowhere was - but going inside? Louisa was not falling for such an obvious trap.
 
"No, wait!" The elf called after her, but something was strange about his voice. It rang through her mind.

The people in the streets did not pay much attention as she slinked passed them, despite her running she could be unnoticeable when she wanted to. But, not to everyone apparently. With the two unknown men left in the building behind her and seemingly not intent on pursuing her, Louisa had a couple of choices ahead.

It was early morning and she had enough time to find a place to rest for the night. She also did not get any closer with her investigation, Raven was still a mysterious figure that she needed to locate, if only to see if it was another trap designed for her. And she did see Terry going in the direction of the church, however Torhen was not that small of a town and it wouldn't be an easy feat trying to finding her now.

  • Find an inn.
  • Try to find Terry.
  • Ask the passers by about the Raven.
 
Upon hearing the elf's voice ring through her mind, she faltered in her running, nearly stumbling. A mage? The thought only made her more eager to get away. Heart hammering in her chest, she slowed to catch her breath only when she felt confident in the distance put between her and the two men. Dragging a hand down her face, she tried to think. Her head clouded with thoughts of run, go, escape, even though she was safer, now. At least, hoped she was.

She needed to calm down.

Taking a deep breath, Louisa took in her surroundings. Figuring she wouldn't be able to find Terry - nor did she particularly want to tangle with dwellings of deities ever again, after Myrr - Louisa settled on procuring a place to sleep for the night, even if it was early. Surmised that asking outright about the Raven seemed foolish; it was a grand way to bring attention to her happenings in Torhen and, regardless of the name's authenticity, she did not want to scare off the only lead she might have by so blatantly announcing their presence in the city.
 
Searching for an inn in an unfamiliar town always consisted of following the commotion and the smell of alcohol. Louisa could already hear the drunken conversations from the alley she emerged out of. She stepped onto a small square, not quite clean enough, typical for a port town. All kinds of salty types and women of questionable morale prowled about, despite the early morning. Perhaps they were simply continuing the celebrations of the last night.

Besides the troublemakers, drunks and loiters, the square was slowly starting to fill up with merchants. They pushed up carts of their wares, unloaded all kinds of trinkets and were well into setting up shops, already starting to boom out loudly in order to attract the customers. Louisa was not that out of place on that square. She kept to the shadows and did it well, but even if she were to walk out to the centre, she would blend in with other cloaked figures, or would be rather lost in noisy crowds.

"Pretty lady!" A merchant that set up a stall just a step away from her, turned in her direction with some kind of a clay jug and cup. He singled her out, not because she was particularly obvious, but simply because she was the nearest potential customer. "Want to try my wine? It is the best wine in Torhen! The reddest and the sweetest!" He offered the cup toward her.

  • Accept.
  • Deny and look around for an inn.
  • Ask him about Torhen.
  • Ask him about an inn.
 
She should have been used to places like these by now and to some degree, she was. However, Louisa couldn't help but get a sinking, disgusted feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever her boot stepped in something sticky or she wandered too close to a particularly gnarly passerby. Despite a life on the run, she'd actively sought out a good bath whenever she could find one; that was more than she could say for some of this lot. Not to mention their overall demeanor.

Truly, she tried not to be so judgmental - hypocrisy was never a good look - but at least that part of her hadn't completely died.

Louisa startled from her thoughts when a merchant presented her wine. She narrowed her brows, her displeasure showing blatantly, though briefly. Did he take her for a fool? Still antsy from the moment before, with Alden's obvious agents, she looked the merchant up and down warily. He seemed relatively harmless. She would not buy wine, but perhaps she could ask him for directions.

No, she told herself. If that is a man of Alden's, then he will know where I sleep! But... if he is not, then I am making things far harder for myself. Pursed her lips, because she had little idea of where to go and standing in one place too long set under her skin like a ferocious, unyielding itch that would not leave until she did. "No thank you," she said, before hurrying away. Agents could be anywhere. Watching, plotting. There was nobody she could trust; not even a simple merchant man.

She would have to find an inn on her own, and then figure out what to do about that elf and his friend.
 
It was not that difficult finding an inn without anyone's help. One was straight across the small square. It was distinctly marked by two topless women in front of it, stopping anyone who was about to enter, and a man who was leaning against the railing on the stairs in a manner that suspiciously looked like vomiting. Such people gathered around places like those, which marked the inn as a possibly not very reputable place. But it was the closest one.

If she wanted to find a different place to stay, it would require a bit more prowling around Torhen, or stopping someone and asking them for directions. Louisa was not a local, so it could take her some time to find a place of decent repute.

  • Go into the closest inn.
  • Walk around Torhen in search of a different place.
  • Stop a passer by and ask for directions.
 
Louisa grimaced at the inn she found on her own. It definitely did not suit her tastes and, though she feared letting her location known, she disliked being out in a crowd more even if she did blend in rather well. Sucking it up, she scanned for the most unassuming looking passerby to ask for directions. Perhaps a child or someone too old to be a threat.
 
"Ey, what's that?" The old lady she singled out as the most harmless proved to be the most deaf as well. "A bin?" She squinted, looking at Louisa like she was the insane one. "Oh, an inn!" She croaked finally after a couple of repetitions. "Yes, there's an inn here. Right there." She showed at the one inn Louisa was trying do avoid. "What? A different inn?" The woman frowned, looking somewhere beyond her, as if trying to recall a very far away memory. "Yes, there's one. A clean place." And then she proceeded with the directions so long and confusing that it seemed like it was going to take Louisa a whole week to find it.

  • Go into the closest inn.
  • Try to find the inn by the old woman's directions.
 
Good Gods, Louisa nearly groaned, I picked the most useless one of them all. At least she needn't fear a report back to Alden. So, even though the directions were confusing and winding, she decided to follow what the old woman had said, if only to have a shot at a place somewhat cleaner than the one she'd found by herself. It reminded her of The Mermaid back in Myrr, the closest inn, and she neither cared to think of such old memories nor spend a night in a similar place to the one she hardly wanted to step foot in some four years ago.
 
Following the directions the best she could and also trying to stick to shadows and not stick out of the crowd, Louisa ended up on the far side of Torhen, away from the port and the smell, but nowhere near an inn. The more she walked in the assumed direction of the old woman, the more the surroundings changed, the crowds thinned, until she walked onto an an empty cobbled street that ended in front of a stone building.

01-stone-town-house-concept-environment.jpg

The sign in front of the doors conveniently stated that it was a flour shop. But perhaps it was more than that, because Louisa could certainly smell freshly baked bread. And after a moment hear the voices. Raised voiced. Arguing in an unfamiliar language, harsh sounding, short words. Dwarvish. As if on cue, a stout old dwarf came running out of the building, almost colliding with Louisa as she approached. A clay plate came after with blinding speed, just narrowly missing both of them and smashing against the cobblestones.

"Uh, pardon me." He said, still looking over his shoulder. "I have a hell of an old lady. Very warm blooded." He said, then offered Louisa an embarrassed grin.

  • Ask about an inn.
  • Ask about his situation.
  • Ask about the shop.
 
Louisa stared curiously at the shop that harbored so much commotion. That is, until a dwarf and a plate came crashing out of the front door. She narrowly avoided colliding with both of them. "Oh? Oh," she looked between the dwarf and where he'd come from, "that is, ah... is everything alright in there?"

Curiosity killed the cat, but for this instance, Louisa found herself more intrigued than wary.
 
"Yeah, uh..." The dwarf chuckled, rubbing at the back of his grey head. "My wife. We were arguing over the ratio of flour needed to prepare black harrh bread. I guess I lost that argument." He chuckled again, looking up at Louisa. "To be honest, I lose them quite often."

Then, as if remembering himself the dwaf said. "Oh, pardon me again, I'm Throben Hornrock and this is my shop." He gestured behind him. "Our family shop, that is. Were you looking to by some flour, good stranger? Or did you just come in for breakfast? Leila just finished making her famous honey buns and I know she's eager to have someone try them. Not me, at this point, but you, certainly." He laughed, suddenly in a much cheerier mood.

  • Go inside the shop.
  • Ask about an inn.
  • Ask something else.
 
Before she knew it, Louisa felt herself smiling. A genuine, happy, smile. The dwarf and his tale of marriage reminded her a bit of how her own parents were, though her mother would certainly never throw a plate out the door; her old porcelain was far too precious. She dared let her walls down a little, if only because of his good spirit and the nostalgia she felt for home. "I am actually searching for an inn," she said. "Do you happen to know of any nearby? Erm, those of the clean variety, at least."
 
"Inn, you say?" Throben scratched his braided beard in thought. "There was one a couple of streets away, but I wouldn't call it decent. I don't know if I would call any inn in Torhen decent." He offered her an apologetic look. "We get mostly sailors here and they usually don't care for decency. But you are in the dwarven quarter now and if anything, us dwarves are known for our hospitality!" He clapped his hands and turned toward his shop. "Come, my old lady will get you a warm meal and I'm sure we can find room for you in our place. Most of our little ones have moved out, so we have more beds in the house than we need."

The dwarf made a couple of paces toward the flour shop, then stopped and turned toward Louisa with an embarrassed sigh.

"You don't mind going in first, do you?" He said, letting out an awkward chuckle.

  • Accept.
  • Refuse.
  • Ask something else first.
 
Hospitable, cheery, and a knack for irritating his wife; Throben reminded her quite a bit of her own father even if they looked absolutely nothing alike. She missed him so much. Alden could have very well placed the dwarves there but, in that moment, Louisa didn't much care. It was reckless and stupid but she wanted to trust this man. "That is very kind of you," she said, making to follow. Then a thought struck her and she was asking the question before she could catch herself: "Where might I find the Raven? Ah, if you know who that is."
 
Throben moved to let Louisa walk past him, sort of looking like he was hiding behind her. To her questions, he just shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I'm not of too much help. I once knew a Raven. He was a travelling performer. Did some good stunts, that guy." He chuckled in remembrance. "But, he's long gone from Torhen, probably halfway across the continent by now. You must be thinking of someone else."

"Ah, enter, please." The dwarf said, ushering Louisa through the doors of the shop. As soon as she entered she was greeted by the scent stronger than before, making her mouth water. Bread, jams, honey, sugar, it was a mix of sweetness and freshness, impossible not to feel inviting. If it wasn't for the clay pot slamming against the doors as soon as Louisa opened them.

"I told you to get the hell of there you old lout!" A very angry female voice came from somewhere beyond the shelving that could be seen from the entrance.
"Careful, Leila, I have a customer with me!" Throben shouted behind her. "Please, enter." She said to Louisa.
"Truly?" The female voice softened and soon another short figure emerged from behind the shelves, carrying another clay pot, but not throwing it this time. Her hair was mostly gray with a bit of dirty blonde in there and fine lines around her big brown eyes. The frown disappeared from her face as soon as she saw Louisa. "Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear!" She left the pot on the nearest shelf, hurrying up to her. "I didn't hit you, did I? Oh, it's all because of this husband of mine, he will be the death of me!"
"Leila, darling, I had only a suggestion, I don't see why you have to end every argument with a thrown plate." Throben whined, still peeking behind Louisa's cloak.
"Oh, shush, you old fool." Leila shook her head, but it was obvious that she was not mad any longer. "Go get the chairs, I haven't been able to get them out yet."

Throben nodded diligenlty and disappeared somewhere in the back room, while his wife was left with Louisa, looking up at her with a gentle smile.

"Welcome to our family flour shop. But, it was breakfast that brought you here, right? I have some honey buns, just out of the oven. Would you like to try them... miss?" She was clearly looking for a name.

  • Accept.
  • Refuse.
  • Optional: Introduce yourself.
 
Well, she certainly was not searching for a travelling stunt man - Unless, she mused, that is the Raven's day job - so that was a dead end. She felt wary after having asked. Though, once the inviting smell of baked goods hit her nose, she found herself feeling a bit better. "Hello-Oh!" Louisa instinctively ducked, though she needed not to; the plate crashed into part of the door nowhere near her. Her eyes widened. The woman had a good arm. Thankfully, bad aim, too.

Despite the thrown plate, though, Louisa did feel welcome. Not in an overbearing, suspiciously open way that made her want to run, but one that made her feel safe. The dwarves were not a practiced perfect. If anything, almost getting clobbered with a clay plate lowered her guard more than anything. They hadn't expected her to be there.

She offered a smile in return. "Sarah," she said, because secrecy was still a priority and she'd be damned if she brought trouble. "I was actually searching for an inn," she said, "but honey buns sound delicious. Sure."
 
"Welcome then!" Leila smiled. "Throben, what's taking you so long?!" She yelled over her shoulder, but quickly turned to Louisa again with a smile.
"Coming!" The dwarf shuffled into the room, balancing three small chairs. They were built for dwarves, but Louisa was not a large woman, despite belonging to taller species, she could fit just fine. "Here."

Throben set the chairs at the table in the main room of the shop and Leila carried out a huge platter with steaming hot pastry. Then she walked out again and came back with three mugs of some sort of white liquid that was probably milk.

"We haven't eaten yet. It will be so nice to have company again." Leila said, sitting down and gesturing to Louisa to sit as well.
"Our youngest moved out last week to go to school." Throben said with a sigh, reaching for a bun.
"The house is now strangely empty." Leila added with a small shrug. Then she looked at Louisa intently. "You can sleep in one of our rooms tonight. You seem like of decent folk, you don't want to stay in an inn around here."
"Told her that already, darling." Throben chimed in.
"That's one smart thing you've said the whole day." Leila snorted. "I'll get the room ready for you. You can rest properly there." She smiled. "What brings you to Torhen?"

  • Accept.
  • Refuse.
  • Optional: Answer Leila's question.
 
Taking a seat, Louisa eyed the honey buns and mugs of milk. The itch had returned, though at a more tolerable level that she was able to ease with logic. They did not expect me to be here; they are eating from the same platter; not everyone is out to get me. Though it certainly felt as such sometimes.

"Thank you," Louisa accepted the offer despite her reservations, "you are very kind." She couldn't run from everything; didn't want to, not from these people that incited fond moments of her own home. Her mother's sharp wit and the way her father presented himself like an open book, even to strangers. Reaching for a honey bun, she only took a bite when asked her business. Chewed slowly to give herself more time to gather her thoughts.

"I am actually looking for someone here," she said, ignoring how anxiety seemed to seep into her blood as she spoke the truth. She glanced to Throben, "Ah, the Raven I inquired about outside."
 
"The Raven?" Leila looked to Throben with a raised eyebrow. "Sounds like a pirate name. Or a mercenary one."
"Or a performer." Throben added. "Remember that half elf from a while ago?"
"Oh, right. He had two left legs."
"What? No, he was amazing!"
"You are too old Throben. Your memory is getting messed up." Leila shook her head and then turned to Louisa. "I'm sorry, my dear, we don't know anyone by that name."

After a moment Leila stood up from the table to clean up the now empty mugs take away the plate. Throben remained, looking at Louisa like he was thinking about something. Then, after a while, he finally spoke up.

"Would you be a good lass and do an old man a favour?" He looked at her hopefully. "My daughter works a couple of streets over, in the blacksmith shop. I was supposed to deliver some flour to her boss, but we got another big order just this morning and I really should get back to the mill." He sighed. "I have a cart loaded and ready. I would be so thankful."
"Oh, and could you take some buns for her as well, dear?" Leila popped out of the adjacent room, clearly listening in on the conversation.

  • Accept.
  • Refuse.
 
Despite the lack of a lead, Louisa found amusement in the conversation. Yes, they definitely reminded her of home. "That is alright," she said after another bite of the honey bun, which she was glad for; the pastry was delicious. Especially coupled with milk. "Asking was mostly a shot in the dark."

After eating, however, the itch returned full force. Why was Throben looking at her so? What did he have to say? Had the food actually been poisoned and he was just waiting for her to drop? Beneath the table, Louisa's hands balled into tight fists, nails making indents on her palms. She tried offering a smile, as though to prompt conversation, but it did not feel genuine. When he finally did speak, she almost sighed in relief.

"Of course," she said. It was the least she could do, to repay kindness with kindness. "What is your daughter's name?"
 

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