The Highwaymen

[Clarisse]

“As you wish then,” Clarisse said knocking back the rest of her drink. She pulled out a small number of bishani and deposited them on the bar before turning and heading towards the door. “Hopefully there’s someone here who’s willing to rent a room to us. “

The light of the day was almost gone, casting an amber glow across the small square. Shadows started to appear as the remaining shopkeepers lit the lanterns outside their shops, more to keep people out than beckoning them to come in. As Clarisse looked out across the scene, a chill wind cut through her clothes, causing her to shiver. If this is fall, winter must be a nightmare she thought to herself before looking over her shoulder towards Iarei,

“We should get moving unless you want to freeze in the street tonight.”

[Iarei]

The city wasn't empty. Nor were its streets usually so bare even at that hour of night. There was still daylight left, if barely, and even if there wasn't there was a good reason why a garrison of the Emperor's Guard had been left within the city walls alongside the laughable city guard. That there were shopkeepers still about was a testamount to the greed of both merchants and the mindset of the general citizen. The why of that wouldn't have been immediately obvious to either woman, no, but for a rather distant -- though steadily increasing -- clamor of voices. Hundreds of them, perhaps, going by the indistinct sound of them. Still an indistinct babble, but such a thing could be ascertained.

"I don't want to freeze anywhere," Iarei said, irritated she should be chivvied while moving; Clarisse had been the one to want to stay, not her. That she was cautious did not mean she was some layabout.

The next instant saw her feeling guilty for the irritation and the thought, but the truth was that she was all out of sorts, and the brief bit of food had done nothing but remind her how hungry she really was. They never went thus in the troupe. Suck on that, she thought to herself, moody, when she realized the distant noise was, in fact, voices.

They had run abreast of one of the merchants closing up shop -- securing his shutters, by the way he was totting about outside his storefront -- and though Iarei had intended to walk right past him he called out to the two women.

"Y'been by the square, misses?"

Iarei looked sidelong at Clarisse, and edged a little closer to the mercenary. "No, why do you ask?"

The man squinted at them, face going long as if he was unsure if he should be speaking to them at all. "Haven't y'eard? They're hangin' Tomas Lonbil an' two of his boys tonight, rather'n wait for the week next. Bound t'get right messy, way things've been splittin' up."

[Clarisse]

“I suppose this lynching, is shutting down local business then.” She said glancing at the merchants closed up shop, “By any means is there a place where we could get a room? Maybe after the festivities.”

Normally Clarisse would have gone by other means to get the information she wanted, but she decided against it this time, knowing that the town hung people and also because she just had her surcoat cleaned not too long ago and didn’t want to ruin it with blood or other fluids.

[Iarei]

The man gave Clarisse a strange look. "Y'hear me? 'Bound t'get messy', I says. Messy meanin' them's smart'll be closin' up early before crowd goes ugly. If yer smart you'll be gettin' gone y'self. No good'll come out o' there."

He looked between them. Iarei had bitten her lip, but she didn't budge. No matter what he said, she didn't believe him. She hadn't seen anything to indicate there was going to be battle come morning when she'd walked in. The city was a hive of louses. Surely some violence here and there was a given? Besides, she had Clarisse at her side, and once they locked up in their room they could weather out the night peacefully. She was tired, and she wanted to eat.

She wasn't going to let him scare them off.

The man sighed at their wall. "See the building with the green roof two streets down? Best inn you'll be getting now. Solid doors. I'd block it off, still. Don't say y'weren't warned!"

Iarei took a step back from him as he fussed about his exterior, and glanced at Clarisse. "C'mon," she said, taking another step away and towards the inn the man had mentioned. "I'll get us a room."

[Clarisse]

Though she had been traveling for the better part of the day, Clarisse hadn’t noticed any preparations for the apparent upcoming bloodbath that this man was suggesting, and further figured that Jurgen would have said something about the hostilities in the town to her before they left if it was such a big issue. The man was pushing the limits on her patience, and it wasn’t helping that she hadn’t had a good nights sleep in what seemed like ages, her eyes narrowed as her grip tightened around one of her blades. Her grip lessened when she heard Iarei speak about going to the other Inn,

“Aye, seems this one is all filled up.”
Casting the man an angry glare before turning to follow Iarei. The streets were calm as they made their way over to the new Inn, a few people milling about attempting to finish up their daily routines apparently completely oblivious to the impending chaos that was supposed to happen later.

“One would expect to be more armed people about if what rumors say are true.” Clarisse said once they reached the building, taking a few bounding leaps up the steps and giving the door a few hard raps. “Lets hope that they’re not milling about in here.”

[Iarei]

"If what he said is true," Iarei muttered, eyeing the few individuals in the common room, "I doubt anything is planned. I've been present when a crowd turns ugly. It sounded like he's expecting a riot, not a planned attack. Even if it does get rough, I doubt the city will be burned around our heads."

Exhaustion warred with the sudden uncertainty in her gut. It was true that she'd been around mobs, but it was also true that she'd heard horror stories of the border towns. When ugliness and violence was already a daily part of life, when things went bad the explosive forces were always said to be that much worse.

"Besides," she muttered, eying the worn state of the building they'd entered, "a man doesn't need to be carrying a broadsword to gut someone."

She minced up to the man behind what appeared to double as a counter and a drink dispenser; while there were no chairs pulled up to the scarred length of wood, barrels were lined up behind him, and a few glass bottles filled with dubious looking liquids. She arranged for a single room, and also arranged to play in the morning. This man didn't seem to be nearly as concerned as the other about violence or dearth of customers, though since what passed for his windows had been long since boarded shut (and the wood warped by the weather), she supposed his establishment was used to weathering violence.

Not that it made her feel any better.

She asked after a meal, and was told to wait as the man yelled for one of his wenches -- charming word to use -- to scrape up some food for their guests. Appetizing. She grimaced. "Did you want any food?"

[Clarisse]

"It makes it a lot easier." Clarisse said in her usual terse tone.

As she surveyed the room she came to the same conclusion as her compatriot, the costumers seemed more worn and tired than anything and fighting these newcomers. Still she steeled herself and readied herself for anything to happen, she wasn't getting paid for her company after all, that fee was extra.

Clarisse declined the offer for food with a wave of her hand and instead motioned the barkeeper towards one of the bottles behind him. With a grunt he roughly set a dirty and worn glass in front of her before grabbing the bottle behind him. The cork came out with a slight pop and a dirty brown liquid sloshed into the glass. Capping the bottle he set it down in front of Clarisse, who in turn tossed out a few bishani. Scooping the coins into his hand, quickly counting them before retiring to, what could only be guessed as his usual activity of manning the bar.

"I had something earlier, though thanks for the offer."

She took a healthy sip from her glass, shaking off the bitter flavor before offering Iarei a taste.

[Iarei]

Iarei looked at the proffered bottle, and then away. "Maybe later," she said, though her stomach spasmed in anticipation. It reminded her of too many things.

There was an itch in her for familiar conversation. Planes, even sound would have been welcomed, any sort of regularity that would take her attention from the strangeness of the bar and its patrons and the woman beside her. But, of course, no topics came to mind. There was too much crowding in her head. She wanted to eat, and sleep, but she had a feeling the second part wouldn't happen easily.

The food came quickly. Given its apparent quality she suspected it had been sitting in some pot in the back, congealing for half the day. Had she been better fed, she would have likely handed it right back, but she wasn't. She was half starved. She took the opportunity the food presented and forgot about everything for several minutes as she stuffed her face. The sensation of her stomach filling was without description, and she found her bliss in those moments.

It didn't take long for her stomach to start cramping. She paused, wood spoon halfway to her mouth, her eyes glazed and staring at nothing in particular. "I think . . . I think I want to go to sleep."

She hadn't scraped the bowl clean; grease, gravy and a few unidentifiable lumps of meat sat thick as thieves on the bottom. Still, the spoon splatted back into it, and she found a few bishani to cover the cost as she turned away from her unfinished food and Clarisse both. "We'll be in the same room, unless you want to cover the cost of your own."

Her stomach made a distressing sort of sound. Iarei found herself regretting her choice. She stood, hand hovering around her middle, and then turned back to inquire about who she should pay for a room.

[Clarisse]

Clarisse shrugged as she finished of the rest of her bitter liquid before speaking up.

"I have no problem sharing, would make since as well would be able to protect you easier." Clarisse said wiping the back of her arm across her mouth, "I don't plan on sleeping much anyway."

The noise of Iarei stomach caused a smirk to appear on Clarisse's face, "A bit of sleep might do you good anyway, as for your stomach I'm not sure how to rightly fix that.

[Iarei]

The 'tender, as it turned out, was the right source to pay for a room. Iarei carefully counted out the proper amount of coin while giving Clarisse a sideways look. "It will work itself out, I'm sure." Her tone was drier than absolutely necessary, a dark bit of humor working itself out despite all the odds stacked against it. For better or worse, in the scant time that had passed since Iarei had hired Clarisse, she seemed to be settling in to the other woman's company. Trust had nothing to do with it, not then, but at the least she seemed ready to accept that Clarisse wasn't going to behave unpredictably. Probably.

There wasn't a key that went along with the room -- proof of how backwater and crude Poltek was -- but it was easy enough to find. Up the stairs, last room at the very end of the hall. Maybe once upon a time the place had been hopping, but it hadn't been any time soon. Iarei suspected the reason they'd been given that room was because it was one of the few with a door that had working hinges, no holes, and hadn't swollen or warped past being able to sit in the frame. There was no apparent effort to fix any part of the upstairs, from the creaky, unstable floorboards to the patchy walls. Miracle of miracles, though, it all seemed to be pretty clean. Iarei didn't question it.

She looked back to see if Clarisse had followed, and opened the door to their room.