With the light of day dwindling fast, and with rain clouds gathering overhead, the cart finally trundles into town along the ramshackle road. It comes to a halt just as it passes the boundary, and the old man driving it looks behind him at the sleeping figure lying amongst the supplies he'd been hauling. From the angle he's at he gets a good eyeful down the top of her tunic between the gap of the remarkably skimpy armour beneath the thick fur cloak she's wrapped in, and he takes a moment to leer at her before reaching back and shaking her awake.
"'Ey! Time to get up, not takin' you any further now." He says with a rasping voice as he watches the groggy warrior wake from her slumber. Emmeline groans as she sits up from her uncomfortable nap and stretches her arms above her head, yawning as she does so. Rolling her shoulders she picks up the bovine decorated greatsword lying beside her and slides off of the back of the cart. Stopping to grab her pack she turns to thank the driver for the lift, but by then he's already whipped the horse into moving on and is trundling back down the road.
Giving a curt glare at his balding head for his rudeness, Emmeline looks around for a few moments as she tries to spot somewhere to find a room for the night, and was in luck to see a sign advertising lodging for barely a handful of silvers across the road from where she was. She trudges her way across the muddy road just as the heavens began to open, and drops of rain started to plop to the ground and ping off her helmet. She pushes the door open and steps into the crowded tavern, though the atmosphere was far from what she expected.
Rather than the excited chatter and laughter of friends and companions she would have thought to witness at this late hour, the mood was dour and dejected. Though packed with people there were bare more than hushed whispers over barely touched drinks and panicked, suspicious eyes set in the sleepless faces of many of those around. Several of them flinch heavily when the door bangs open as she enters, fearful gazes staring at her.
"Ok then... Not a place to make any new friends it would seem..." She mutters quietly as she glances over the gloom of the tavern. Deciding she was of little threat or interest to them, those that look her way return to hunching over their tables and ignoring those around them, and Emmeline closes the door and walks slowly through the tavern to the bar, to speak to who was presumably the owner who could be found there.
As she approaches she withdraws her coinpurse and counts out the amount she'd read on the sign, slapping the coins down on the counter with a cheerful expression in her attempt to brighten the mood surrounding her.
"One room for the night, please!"
The man behind the counter looks around as she does so, a mug in his hand and a grim expression on his face. He glances down at the coins presented by the woman with little change in his expression as he then looks Emmeline up and down in silence. When he does speak his voice sounds as if he were gargling gravel.
"Not enough." Is the only thing he says as he continues his attempts at polishing the grime encrusted mug, catching Emmeline off guard.
"Oh? The sign outside said-"
"Sign's wrong. 'S not enough. Two gold."
Emmeline is quite taken aback by the increase in price from what was advertised.
"You're kidding me. Two gold for a single night?" She says somewhat incredulously, to which the man puts down the mug on the counter and stands, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear tougher than he truly was.
"Three gold now. Either 'at, or you can get out. Find somewhere else t' stay." He says with a sneer, pointing to the window across from them. He turns around again as Emmeline follows the finger and sees the rain well and truly pouring down now, as a clap of thunder sounds overhead. She glances down into her coinpurse to see what she had and reluctantly counts out the extorted price, taking back her silver and pulling out the priced number of gold. Though before she hands it over another of the patrons steps up beside her, leaning his elbow on the bar.
"Oh lay off, Ernest. Three gold for a night in this shithole? We both know they don't even charge that in the Capital." The stranger says, placing his own emptied tankard down on the counter and blocking Emmeline's arm from handing over the coins. She looks at the man and is surprised to see someone almost a foot taller than herself standing there, most of his features hidden by the heavy shadow cast over his face by the wide hat he wears.
What she can make out are a pair of piercing gold eyes, and the shaped beard that adorned his scarred face. Even when he shifts his head and the candlelight flickers over him she finds his face oddly difficult to distinguish. The bartender turns around and catches sight of the long coated man standing there.
"'oo the fuck asked you? Room's three gold, an' 'ats 'at." He says with an angered face, putting his hand on his hip.
"Ernest... " The stranger begins in a voice as if admonishing a child. "I think it's ten silvers, am I right?" He questions as he draws back his coat, exposing the sword and pistol hanging within. When his hand falls upon the pommel of the sword, just relaxing there for now, Ernest stiffens slightly. He looks as if he's about to protest before he deflates somewhat, grumbling now.
"Fine, ten silvers." Ernest says as he looks to Emmeline as the man slaps the bar in agreement.
"Wonderful! Aren't we all happy now?" He says with a smile- was he smiling?- Before patting Emmeline on the back as he lets his coat fall back into place.
"You have a good night now, lass."
And with that he walks away again back to his table where a dark skinned woman and winged boy sat in conversation with each other, looking at him as he returns and sits down, propping his feet up on the table.
