Breaking the dormancy

The common room of the inn boomed with laughter, the chime of glasses clashing and brimming with a myriad of diverse voices. The smoke of the big hearth filled the room with wonderfully scented fragrances as the flames consumed enchanted firewood. The inn seemed to be lively at no matter the time of the day and some customers seemed to never leave the establishment. It was near 5 pm and the kitchen was still producing exquisite dishes for the customers who were out to get a delicious meal, but others had eaten at home and were there just to drink. The big kegs filled with sweet honey mead, earthly beer and rich wine seemed to flow constantly.

From the stairs came a tapping, a young slender woman walked down the steps to the common room. Her legs were wrapped in tall riding booths mad of glinting black leather and dark panties. She wore a black skirt that fell up to her knees and around her hip she wore a white leather belt with a holster for a revolver on her right hip. A rapier with a large silver guard hung on her left side, its scabbard was made from black leather. Her upper body was covered by a long-sleeved white top. Her long maroon hair was lushly braided and hung over her left shoulder. Bright chestnut eyes looked into the world with confidence as she held up her head high and her glossy lips formed a beaming smile; she looked forward to an appetizing dinner.

Amalia walked to the bar. ”Bonjour, could I get today's dish?” asked the redhead with a voice that was thick with a Minstrelean accent. She could speak without that accent and assume different ones, but she preferred her native accent which gave a nice ring to the words she spoke; or so she thought, it was also part stubbornness.  

The bald man behind the counter nodded, “Ai, we will bring it shortly. You can take a seat; I think there is still a place somewhere.” He handed Amalia a small lacrima that the staff could use to find her table.

”Merci vou ple,” Amalia said with dimples in her cheeks as she smiled. She had spent the whole day studying in books on warfare and fighting as she had no luck with jobs thus far, none of her contacts had jobs for her and her advertisements for her services rendered no customers. It always felt as if a day of studying made her feel hungrier than a day of fighting. She walked away from the bar to look for a place to sit, and as she turned around, she saw the barman shake his head. Probably not fond of foreigners she thought, her smile melt away and her bouncy walk turned into a stride. The lacrima was clench in her fist as she looked for a place. She found one empty table, a tall one with four stools. She placed the lacrima with a loud tap on the wooden surface of the table. Amalia took her sword and scabbard from her belt and placed it with a thud on next to the lacrima. The slender legs of the fabric patted stool made a shrieking noise as Amalia dragged it to make room to sit.

A while had passed, and Amalia was fumbling with the lacrima in her hands. At last, the dish arrived, a waitress with short blue hair brought a steaming plate to the table. The plate was placed in front of Amalia, who bent to smell the amazing fragrances of the dish; water ran in her mouth. ”Merci vous plait,” her eyes were closed as she smiled, ”could please bring a fine wine from Minstrel? A bottle and glass please.” She handed the waitress the lacrima, the blue-haired woman nodded and left without a word. Amalia inspected her food. There were four slices of meat, covered in a brown paste that was sprinkled with what seemed to be crunched hazelnuts. Next to the meat lay a salad of greens and carrot curls and a nice bed of mashed potatoes with flocks of old cheese and herbs strewn about. Amalia started to dig into the food, savouring every bit she took from the tender meat, the mashed potato and the greens. This is heavens, thought the Minsterlean woman with closed eyes. The waitress arrived with a green bottle of wine and a tall wine glass, she poured Amalia a glass. ”merci,” said the noblewoman, ”it tastes delicious.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to pass it on to the chef,” and with those words, the blue-haired waitress turned about to serve other people.

Ow, de Dodonge, thought Amalia as she took a whiff from the wine after she swirled the wine around in the glass, she could distinguish quite some wines from one another just by smelling them. Exquisite, was the thought that ran through Amalia’s head as she took a sip, this is how cheap wine is meant to be. There were good tasting wines among the cheaper ranges, some even tasted better than the properly expensive ones according to Amalia.

Amalia looked up when she heard the stool in front of her scrape over the floor. A masked figure took the seat, the mask was golden or gilded and wrought in the shape of a strange beast; it almost looked organic in a way, as if it could move. His clothing was dark green and decorated with golden ornaments and what seemed to be either bone or ivory. From behind the mask came a voice.

Amalia nodded, ”I am Amalia indeed.” She took a sip from her wine as she listened to Yuvon’s introduction of himself and the talk of business. ”Why wait after dinner when we can do it over dinner? Need a drink, or food?” she straightened her pose and took a curious look at the man in front of her. Masks made her cautious, people that wear masks wish to hide something and is suspicious. But work is work, she would be more wary than usual. But perhaps the man would accept her invite for food and thus be forced to remove the golden mask. ” Where do you need my sword for? I can be ready to go as soon as I have finished dessert and changed into something more suitable for the job.” asked Amalia and then proceeded to eat finish the last of her meat. She beckoned a waitress to order dessert and a potential order for the mysterious Yuvon from Silver Wolf. ”Silver Wolf is a guild if I am not mistaken, right?” Amalia had not been that long in Fiore and wasn’t too familiar with all the guilds in the country.

Amalia raised an eyebrow; she did not expect a… mysterious figure such as Yuvon, with his intimidating mask and eerie attire to order pastry and chocolate milk. She turned her head towards the waitress. ”I would like to have the limoncello ice cream with the lemon cake”, her eyebrows formed wide arches, mirroring her lips upside down. Amalia’s favourite food was everything with lime or lemon, thoughts she didn’t like those fruits on their own. The refreshing taste of the sweet and sour flavours are mesmerising in the mouth, just thinking about the dessert made her nearly drool. Yuvon spoke again from behind his organic mask, She patted her rapier, that laid next to her on the table, ”that’s good to hear. It is at your service… at the right price.” A sly smile turned upon her face and her eyebrows jumped up and down once. ”I see, that’s a noble purpose. Indeed, I do not, I am from Minstrel as you might hear by my voice. Have not had the time to learn all the ins and outs of Fiore, guilds are not exactly what I would have thought of at first. Was mostly concerned with finding work, and alas, now we sit here.”

The waitress had brought them their food, and hot chocolate for Yuvon. Amalia was about to take a nibble from her cake when she saw what Yuvon did. Her eyebrows rose and she dropped her head slightly to the side. ”Well, that’s handy,” she said somewhat bewildered. She shook her head and placed the content of the spoon in her mouth. The taste of lemon sparkled on her taste buds, a spoon full of heaven ran through her mind.

[/b]”I see, well when I help guard that wagon; the marauders stand no chance,”[/b] she held her chin high as made the statement with a buoyant voice. ”The price for my sword is 15.000 jewels, no less but more is always appreciated.”

Amalia nodded in response to her mother tongue. ”Très bien,” she said with a wide smile. ”I have noticed, Fiore seems one of the most hospitable countries towards foreign I have visited,” she said and added, ”and I have been in many places.” She finished her lemon-flavoured dessert.

”Good,” said Amalia after Yuvon agreed to her price. ”I can give you my word, but beware a word means nothing to most people in my line of work. I do my duty, protecting your wagon, and that means that I will not go after danger unless it threatens the cargo. I take half of the money, once the job is complete to your satisfaction you can give me the remaining sum,” said Amalia. ”I appreciate your offer. I am going to gather my things, get appropriately dressed for the ride, and pay the rent, after that, I am ready to go.”

Amalia went upstairs towards her room, grabbed her few belongings which, were some writing utensils, a couple of books and notebooks which were neatly stacked upon the little table. She conjured her handbag and stowed away her belongings. With a snap, her handbag vanished, and her clothing was exchanged for silver steel armour. The plate steel covered her entire body, except for her head; she could summon the sallet helmet, with it is white and blue ostrich plumes, any time she needed too. Her armour was rather sparsely decorated with few bits of azure whilst the armours of her father and brother would have been of blanked steel and decorated with gilded ornaments and motives to display their wealth and noble lineage. Amalia found it unnecessary, thoughts she did own an armour like that; actually, more than one. This plain yet elegant armour was much less auspicious. Her waist was covered in leather belts in which were strapped her rapier, her dagger and a few revolvers and other useful weapons. From her shoulders hung a silver and blue cloak. Silver, white, and azure were the colours of her house.

She trotted back downstairs and went to the counter to pay, with a part of the money Yuvon had just given her. She then turned to the mysterious man, ”I am ready.”

"Then you will face a lot of disappointment," said Amalia coldly. It occurred more than once that they promised payment, but once she finished the job, her pouch was empty. Well, in some cases she had to seize it by force. It was for this reason that she takes half of the agreed sum in advance, to prevent being cheated on most of the award, but it was still a leap of faith. A gabble she took every time she took on a job.

Amalia followed the peculiar fellow outdoors. There stood a large wagon, filled to the brim with all kinds of consumables and even livestock. "Planning to campaign against Seven?" said Amalia with a grin, one of the most important things in warfare was logistics; the transport of food.  Yuvon had already taken a seat on the wagon and offered Amalia a hand to get on the moving vehicle as well. Amalia took his hand and pulled herself up and took a seat next to him. A group of kids wanted to ask Yuvon a couple of questions, an interview.

Amalia looked with suspicion at how the group split off the walk around the wagon. The clothing that the kids wore was old, dirty and with the occasional hole. Not exactly the ware that kids wear that go to school, she hoped.

There came a sound from underneath the wagon. And the kid who did the speaking tried to mask it by being louder. Amalia grinned. "Yuvon, it is a good thing that you hired me. You are being robbed, or well is an attempt," she said, followed by three kicks on the wooden boards. "You can all come back up now, don't make me get you from underneath there."

The looked at the one who, supposedly, did the interview. "I think they are hungry, and I think you have a solution for that," said Amalia, looking at the eyeslits of Yuvons mask. A few loaves of bread less, a couple of missing apples and the like would barely hurt the pantries of the guild. If they damaged the car, however, it would be more hurtful. They could try to capture them, but they were with too many and would likely know the city much better as they did. A waste of energy. They could at least keep the kids from bothering someone else, for a short while at least. Perhaps an act of kindness would warm them up to asking for food, rather than to steal it.