In for a Pounding

[Erryl]

When was the last time Erryl had eaten? He couldn't even remember, the last few days a blur, but however worn and sluggish he might have felt upon waking, Erryl welcomed the brief ray of light this new distraction offered. A chance to sate his hunger -- he realized, at once, that the sick feeling in his stomach wasn't all fear and anxiety after all -- and to relax, for a moment.

They descended the stairs, and the young half-elf wondered where the bathroom might be. He didn't know much of taverns or their facilities, though he certainly desired to bathe himself at that moment, a task he would normally try to avoid until his sister-in-law pressured him into it with one of her stern looks. Regardless of his wishes, in both cases, the choice was made for him, and so he left it at that.

Of several tables spread across the room, Erryl took a seat at one of the square ones that looked relatively clean. The wooden chair shifted under the boy's slight weight as though it might break, but he tried to ignore it, instead paying attention to the actions of their newest companion.

[Iarei]

Busybodies were an irritating, troublesome lot who Iarei seemed to have a penchant for attracting and seconding into her service, whatever that meant. Considering that the only ones she seemed to have an ability to hang on to were below their majority, well, that just meant she had fewer reasons to look at strangers with anything other than suspicion. The fact that she now had a guard coming up to her asking questions, after the day before?

She tried very hard not to think of Tais. Her eyes went distant as she remembered anyway, saw and felt the blood on her hands, everywhere. Had the guard already tracked her down in so short a time? So soon? Was it over so soon? Her stomach rolled, she closed her eyes for a moment to save herself from drowning, and pushed it away. She came up with a smile.

"Are you a doctor of some kind?" She asked Drayel, taking him in with a brief sweep before looking down at her barely-scabbed-over hand. It was red, swollen, hot and painful to the touch: all bad things, she knew, but she just didn't have time. . .and she couldn't afford the antagonistic attitude she'd taken with everyone else. Push it down. Bury it. She forced herself to look contrite. "You'll have to pardon me, it's not often a guardsman will offer aid."

Why was she so angry? There was a desire, hot and sharp, to reach out and slap the man who stood before her. Nothing was fair. You would've thought she'd have learned that back when she had a home.

Iarei didn't let the thought affect her smile.

[Drayel]

Drayel frowned a little harder as she smiled up at him. She was defensive. She was hiding behind a smile as she eyed him warily. He fought down the sigh that threatened to bubble from his chest though his shoulders slouched instead. He looked down at her dully, trying to seem friendly but unsure how to quite deal with this.

"I understand." Drayel rumbled with a bow of his head. His eyes flickered from her face to her hands, glancing behind her once to eye the gaping kitchen maid hiding behind a door. He growled at her, showing his teeth out of reflex causing the maid to flee. Looking back at the woman he forced himself to smile a little, trying to show he didn't want to hurt her. "I assure you there intend no harm, though I suppose that isn't helping either."

"As for you're hand, I'm no doctor but I know that its painful." He gave her a shrug. "I have medical herbs and a couple bandages that will help the swelling at the least. I have some a potion for pain as well I believe that you'd be welcome to. That is, if you can trust a guardsman of course."

The last bit came out as an attempt to joke though he doubted it came out right. He was never good with this sort of thing but he couldn't very well let a woman be wounded and wandering. Not only would it haunt his mind later but he was raised better. If he left her be he would be no better then the bastards that killed his own parents.

"So ma'am. Would you like help with you're hand or would you prefer I left you be?"

[Mather]

Mather followed the skinny kid down the narrow, rickety stairs at the back of the establishment, wondering what sort of meal they could expect to be served here. The wanderer also wondered, idly, what he was expected to do if the kid got attacked -- though what anyone would want from that twig of a boy, Mather had no idea. Was he supposed to protect the kid? Did his semi-informal contract extend to the boy? That was something Mather would have to sort out with Iarei as soon as possible. Also the matter of Mather's wage. Vagabond he may be, and frequently a cheap one, but he certainly didn't work for free or provide his services to charity cases. Iarei, though scruffy and filthy and covered in someone else's blood, didn't seem like a charity case. Her boy was another story.

Ah, well. They made it down the death-trap of a staircase and into the tavern's main room, where they seated themselves at a table that wasn't too filthy to eat off of. Mather pulled out a chair across from the boy and sat in it, leaning forward with his arms on the table and his usual grin on his face.

"So, boy, hungry?" he asked, wondering just how comfortable this kid was around him. Didn't seem very comfortable at all, from what Mather had already seen this past night and morning. "Have ye got a proper name, or should I just call you 'boy'? Mind, I'm just as happy to stick with that."

[Erryl]

Erryl glared across at the shady bodyguard through sunken, dark-ringed eyes, his appearance having degraded over the past few days from almost respectable to downright filthy and clearly beaten, mentally and physically. The bruises on his arms stood out against his pale skin, even through the grime. Still, it was clear he remained alert, through whatever part of the body came fear and distrust. He let out a tired sigh before responding to Mather's question.

"Erryl," he said, his voice still as quiet as ever and wavering slightly. He thought for a moment before adding: "I'm starving."

A woman clearing up the table behind Erryl overheard the comment, and gave Mather a look that said she could take an order if he'd like.

[Iarei]

Iarei stood with one foot on the second stair, her weight on the foot that rested on the lower stair. One hand clutched at her clothing and the other rested lightly against the wall. A well worn wall, but one not so terribly out of repair, all things considered. She considered her hand, atop that wall, and decided that the hand was the thing out of place; the wall might be old, but it held its dignity and some degree of cleanliness.

She turned, pivoting on the foot that held her weight, and came even with him on the floor. He was a decidedly tall man with a body and face that carried intimidation far easier than whatever grace he was presently trying to coax her with. She was shorter than he by enough inches that it was easy to feel overwhelmed by his greater size. Despite his size, however, he was only a human. What had she to fear from him?

Tais.

The thought was painful, and distracted her from her anger. "Is there anything I should fear from a guardsman?" She asked, picking apart his words to a single careless sentence, discarding the rest of it in order to test his mettle.

[Drayel]

Drayel sighed as he rubbed his temple with a gloved hand. Of course his attempts at jibbings fell through. Dammit he was no good at this. He glanced down at her, unsure now what to do. If he spoke truth then her distrust in him would increase but to hell if he was going to lie. He wasn't good at that either. His stomach growled at him and he felt his eyebrow twitch.

"There are bad apples in every bunch. In the guards, it is no different." He answered finally as he scratched his head. "As you probably know already, not many trust the guards due to this. I assumed your suspicions of me were no different."

Drayel paused to glance at the woman again. She was pretty and sort of small looking. Then again, everybody seemed small to him. Her sharp gaze wavered between emotions though it was hard to identify which. He felt his heart sink a little at the look she wore. Poor girl looked like she went through hell...

"If you'd rather I could act more as you imagined." He said with dry humor. Lowering his voice he growled as he let his eyes narrow and flash. "The name's Drayel Morig and you ma'am will come with me to get that damn hand fixed up. If you refuse I will blow an magical whistle that summons a unicorn and I shall kidnap you to the world of sweets and licorice where we'll gorge ourselves fat."

There. If she didn't catch that bit of humor then it wasn't his fault, she would just be dense. Either way he hoped he'd sound less like the bad man he appeared to be. He fought the urge to grumble. The one time his intimdation was a pain in his ass.

[Mather]

Mather nodded, kicking back his chair and pushing his battered hat a little farther up his brow. "Erryl," he repeated, trying the new name on his tongue. "Decent enough name. Y'already know mine, otherwise we could have a proper round of introductions. More important things to do anyway. Time for breakfast."

Looking around, Mather beckoned the woman who was clearing a table behind the boy -- Erryl -- and she approached, ready to take their orders for food.

"Bread," Mather said to her, "and some decent meat, and a few apples. Cheese too, if you have it. And two glasses of your best stout." When he had finished, he turned to Erryl with a smile. "Ever had beer for breakfast, boy?"

[Erryl]

Erryl's gaze flicked across the serving girl as she took their order. She was older, maybe in her 30s, short for an elf, but rake-thin -- not quite the typical bar wench, Erryl thought, from the few times he'd been out with his brother. She gave a wry smile at Mather's comment before leaving towards the kitchen. Not being fond of beer on any occasion, Erryl couldn't help the way his lips twisted in distaste at the thought. He decided to change the topic before he was forced into an uncomfortable discussion about his lack of world experience, a situation he'd grown to despise growing up in Marn. Despite the city's noteworthy academic and technological advances, it was still a society founded by soldiers and merchants.

Giving the bodyguard a look of genuine curiosity -- or at least attempting to -- the half-elf asked, "So, are you from Shaddin, or traveling through?"

[Iarei]

Iarei smiled a little too late at Drayel's joke. The smile itself was tired, but it shifted into slyness in the short time it took her to gather her wits. She didn't want to be on the bad side of any guard. Not now.

"Do you often do that? Demand ladies come with you, I mean." Her voice was teasing. Her expression softened any possible perceived insult. She could have, at that moment, been seen as weak and fragile. She encouraged the potential impression by curling her shoulders in the slightest bit, and hugging her arms about herself. No, Iarei didn't want to be on the bad side of any guards for any reason.

But she wouldn't mind being under the protection of one.

[Drayel]

Drayel blinked as he quirked an eyebrow, his lip twitching in a slight smirk of amusement. He knew she was up to something, he wasn't stupid. Yet, given the look of her he probably seemed like a good guard dog from whoever did it to her. Who knows, if he stuck around with her for a bit perhaps he'd get some information. So, he decided to jibe back at her.

"Only the ones who don't come willingly." He answered her with a shrug. He smirked down at her with a slight snort. "Of course, half of what I haul around isn't exactly something I'd want near me at all. Too drunk and hairy most of 'em. Now, come on. I'll fix up that hand and we can grab some grub. I haven't eaten a damn thing since yesterday's lunch."

With that he didn't even hesitated, moving forward with a quick step and twisting around her until he stood at her side. Lowering himself a little, he slipped his arms under her back and knees before heaving her up and against his chest. Glancing down at her expression he lowered his voice into a low rumble.

"Noticed you favoring your foot." Drayel explained shortly as he whisked her away from the kitchen and towards the tables he'd seen earlier. "So, whats your name or should I simply call you 'Madam'?"

[Mather]

((Sorry for how long this has taken me; I've been having some family issues.))

Mather smiled at the table server as she walked away, and then turned his smirk on Erryl. He couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the boy's look of disgust at Mather's mention of their breakfast drink, and he chuckled. "You better learn to like it. Nothing better than a bracing draft of beer in the morning, particularly where the food's not all that filling. Although, thankfully, it doesn't seem like this establishment is lacking in that area," the mercenary added, watching the occasional server bring platters of food to the inn's other patrons.

"Not to mention," Mather continued, turning back to nod at Erryl, "It's pretty damn hard to find a decent glass of water in the city that doesn't make you want to haul up your last meal, or give you some sort of pox, or both. Clean water's for the wealthy."

[Erryl]

Of course Mather was right about the water, but Erryl was sure there was better to drink than what these folks were serving. He leaned forward on the table, resting on his forearms, and looked around the room. A man, hurried and serious, came in from the street then fled towards the kitchens.

"Have you been in here before?" Erryl absently asked the bodyguard. Suddenly surprised at how easily he could speak to strangers recently, after all the trauma he'd been forced to go through, Erryl decided to ask more questions. "How good are you at fighting? Did Iarei tell you who we're hiding from?"

The young man stared down at the table to listen to Mather's response and contemplate the empty feeling in his stomach. He thought he heard Iarei's voice briefly, and expected her to come and sit with them if she'd finished bathing. Had they ordered enough for her breakfast as well? When Erryl realized she was still in conversation with someone, he finally turned to look in the direction of her voice, and stared in surprise at the sight of her conversing with a man that could only be a criminal, from the look of him.

[Iarei]

"You'll fix it?" Iarei injected a teenager's worth of dubiousness into her voice, and looked at Drayel sidelong. "Still, if you're paying, you may have your way with me in this regard! But only this one." Her smile turned flirtatious. She didn't appear to notice Erryl and Mather, and could only hope neither bothered her while she felt out the guard.

She chose not to play wilting flower as he picked her up, accepting the bit of valiant showmanship with a laugh. Overkill, certainly, but it was a game she was used to playing. She didn't begrudge him his chivalry. If anything, it made him more interesting. As they settled at one of the tables, she gave him an imperious, impish look and said, "You may call me Madam Iarei. And that then, I imagine, would make you Lord Drayel of the Drunken Rat. Tell me, do you always pick up injured damsels, or am I just special?"

[Drayel]

"With all honesty, you're not my first damsel no." Drayel gave her a grim chuckle as he gently placed her at a semi-clean table. He picked up her hand gently, examining it with a frown before wrinkling his nose. Placing it on his knee he twisted to search his pouch. "As for that title, you can damn well keep it thanks. Last thing I want to be associated with is this mud hole."

Drayel hesitated before glancing again at the hand. An infection, not terrible but starting had took the hand. He had herbs for it, bandages as well to keep it from getting dirty once again but to get the pus out he'd have to cut her, drain it from beneath her skin then use the herbs he had. He glanced at her with a grimace, unsure how to tell her without causing panic.

"Ma'am.... ah Madam Iarei, I need you to stay calm for me." Drayel started slowly as he pulled out the bandages and herbs. He glanced across the table towards another group of shaggy fellows, eyeing the two males with a glare. Another reason he kept her hand down, not to let any of these nitwits know she was hurt. He shifted his eyes up to look at her. "There is an infection, that's why it leaks heat. To get the pus out I'll need to... ah. Cut your hand a bit. It won't be deep of course but if I don't, you may lose this hand."