Karin Sørensen
Her last to the inn had been uneventful and unassuming: some brief chatter with a couple regulars while she waited for a table, a quick meal to stop her hunger pangs, and a generous tip for the waitress. For certain, it was nothing out of the ordinary…except for one thing. She had noticed that several of the staff—including her waitress—had some kind of a tattoo somewhere on their body; most of them had it on their arms or the back of their necks, and she couldn’t quite make out what it was, but something had tipped the huntress off that something wasn’t quite what it seemed to be at the Silver Moon Inn. Her visit into Rose Garden from then on that day had been a bit of a blur—all that had been on her mind then was the tattoo….what was it? It was almost certainly a guild mark, but it was one that she didn’t recognize off the top of her head; then again, the only one she did happen to know off the top of her head was that of her current guild, Black Sails.
This was her second visit to the magic-laden city in the past month—her curiosity about the inn led her back to come and see the sights once more—but, while her mind was buzzing with questions that, as of yet, had no answers, her heart was in a small fit of inner turmoil as she combed through the sidewalks in search of that corner lot. It was no secret that the huntress didn’t quite fit in with the band of pirates she had stumbled across—she could only name one or two of them, at most—and her constant travelling and sight-seeing made it difficult to consider the island much of a home; in fact, the cabin they had made for her there was practically untouched. She had no belongings there to worry about, no personal connections that she could consider herself invested in; perhaps, it was time for a change of pace after all.
Much like any other day that she was stuck in town, her hair was untied and left to flow down her shoulders and back. Instead of her traditional tunic, she found herself in a hooded long sleeve shirt and denim pants—her boots replaced with flats. Though she found the shoes to be uncomfortable—they were a gift from a friend that she had worn on only one or two other occasions—they, along with the otherwise “normal” appearing clothes on her person, were worth the lack of attention she had gotten the last time she had shown up in town with her, quote, “eclectic” attire.
The evening itself was not all that terrible for walking; although she often found urban areas to be hot and stuffy, the breeze that blew was refreshing enough to stop her from complaining. Although she certainly had purpose in being there, her walk through Rose Garden had resulted in the flippant purchase of a necklace from a vendor on the street—a gold diamond with some runic engravings—that had been promptly stuffed in her pocket to try on later; she had some spare coin, why not spend it on herself a bit? The necklace itself had caught her attention for some reason or another…although she couldn’t figure out why; perhaps it was magical…perhaps it was just a trinket…either way, it was hers now and she’d have to live with the purchase since it was unlikely she would be able to return it.
About twenty minutes or so of shuffling through the human traffic of the city, she eventually came to the Silver Moon Inn once more—tucked away in its unassuming spot in the corner. From what she could see outside the windows, it looked like the dining area was empty aside from some wait staff bussing tables and cleaning up after the rush. As she opened the door and the bell rung, she gave a small yawn before asking, “Um..hello?”
Her last to the inn had been uneventful and unassuming: some brief chatter with a couple regulars while she waited for a table, a quick meal to stop her hunger pangs, and a generous tip for the waitress. For certain, it was nothing out of the ordinary…except for one thing. She had noticed that several of the staff—including her waitress—had some kind of a tattoo somewhere on their body; most of them had it on their arms or the back of their necks, and she couldn’t quite make out what it was, but something had tipped the huntress off that something wasn’t quite what it seemed to be at the Silver Moon Inn. Her visit into Rose Garden from then on that day had been a bit of a blur—all that had been on her mind then was the tattoo….what was it? It was almost certainly a guild mark, but it was one that she didn’t recognize off the top of her head; then again, the only one she did happen to know off the top of her head was that of her current guild, Black Sails.
This was her second visit to the magic-laden city in the past month—her curiosity about the inn led her back to come and see the sights once more—but, while her mind was buzzing with questions that, as of yet, had no answers, her heart was in a small fit of inner turmoil as she combed through the sidewalks in search of that corner lot. It was no secret that the huntress didn’t quite fit in with the band of pirates she had stumbled across—she could only name one or two of them, at most—and her constant travelling and sight-seeing made it difficult to consider the island much of a home; in fact, the cabin they had made for her there was practically untouched. She had no belongings there to worry about, no personal connections that she could consider herself invested in; perhaps, it was time for a change of pace after all.
Much like any other day that she was stuck in town, her hair was untied and left to flow down her shoulders and back. Instead of her traditional tunic, she found herself in a hooded long sleeve shirt and denim pants—her boots replaced with flats. Though she found the shoes to be uncomfortable—they were a gift from a friend that she had worn on only one or two other occasions—they, along with the otherwise “normal” appearing clothes on her person, were worth the lack of attention she had gotten the last time she had shown up in town with her, quote, “eclectic” attire.
The evening itself was not all that terrible for walking; although she often found urban areas to be hot and stuffy, the breeze that blew was refreshing enough to stop her from complaining. Although she certainly had purpose in being there, her walk through Rose Garden had resulted in the flippant purchase of a necklace from a vendor on the street—a gold diamond with some runic engravings—that had been promptly stuffed in her pocket to try on later; she had some spare coin, why not spend it on herself a bit? The necklace itself had caught her attention for some reason or another…although she couldn’t figure out why; perhaps it was magical…perhaps it was just a trinket…either way, it was hers now and she’d have to live with the purchase since it was unlikely she would be able to return it.
About twenty minutes or so of shuffling through the human traffic of the city, she eventually came to the Silver Moon Inn once more—tucked away in its unassuming spot in the corner. From what she could see outside the windows, it looked like the dining area was empty aside from some wait staff bussing tables and cleaning up after the rush. As she opened the door and the bell rung, she gave a small yawn before asking, “Um..hello?”