A pale moon hung in the sky, dark clouds blotting it out as they floated by in the darkness of night. Crickets chirped and in the dark, hoof beats echoed as riders on horse made their way along the roadway north. Mountains loomed in the distance, even at this distance the distant twisted spires of vampire holds were visible against the dimly lit sky.
To the east were the great troll hills, filled with the various tribes that were ever at war with the southern realms and kingdoms. To the west, the mountains sloped down to great plains and dozens of mines that produced valuable ores and gems. Knights, soldiers, mercenaries, all rode north to earn their living. Armies marched to find glory and wealth. Fortresses hung in the mountain passes and there was ever a living to earn hunting the beasts beyond the gates.
The riders approached the soft yellow light of a tavern that appeared further down the road ahead of them. Two peaked rooftops jutted up from the stone frame, wooden awnings hung over doorways and wooden shutters stood open against windows. It was a three storey affair, well constructed and appointed. There was a stable and the main doors stood open in the cool spring air, casting more yellow light out into the shifting darkness.
There were many ways to make money waging war beyond the mountains and gates. And there was an exceptional way to earn a living without approaching such dangerous tasks. Owning the only tavern and inn before entering the wildlands beyond, that was another way to earn a living.
A comfortable one, from the way the inn looked.
The riders approached a wooden sign flanked by two standing torches. The words etched into the sign read 'The Last Hearth'.
"Welcome." A shape melted out of the shadows near the stable, holding up a hand. The riders saw none of the details of their face or outline other than that of a dark cloak. "Would you like your horses stabled, fed, and brushed? A silver for the lot."
"Done." The lead rider said, digging out a silver coin and flicking it to the shape. The shape caught it and moved forward, taking the reins of the horses as the riders dismounted. The figure beneath the cloak clicked softly with it's tongue and the horses followed easily into the stable. The riders shared a look and then shrugged it off, shouldering their packs and heading into the wide open entryway into the tavern.
The interior was as well appointed as the exterior. A massive stone hearth burned brightly in a corner of the room, flanked by piles of firewood and long wooden benches. There were tables, a wall of ale barrels and wine bottles, a long bar top and the room was filled with a fresh smell of food, well worn wood, and ale. Above the bar and mounted to the wall was an enormous and well worn battleaxe, flanked by twin daggers to one side and a bow to the other. The riders looked around the room and nodded, pleased with what they saw of the tavern. The Last Hearth was well known among those that traveled for mercenary work. It was known as one of the finest places to stay.
It was living up to that reputation.
"Evening." A voice called out from the doorway to the kitchen. The riders looked and found an orc woman looking at them. She had to be over six and a half feet tall, broad and well built. She looked to be the one that had once wielded that battleaxe. Her hair was pitch black, shaved along the sides of her scalp and the rest standing tall in a medium length mohawk that ran down to the back of her head. Bone piercings studded her ears and small tusks jutted up from her lower teeth even when her mouth was closed. She wore a simple, loose fitting white shirt under a light brown leather vest. A belt was cinched around her waist and below that were matching brown leather breeches that clung tightly to her legs. She crossed her arms and her already impressive cleavage was pushed up a little higher.
"Evening, ma'am." The leader said, dipping his head to the orc. "We're heading north, looking for lodging for the night."
"Well, that's what we're here for, so you've come to the right place." The orc said, grinning. "Six of you for the night, three gold coins will buy you three rooms for the night, food now and food in the morning before you ride out."
"Done." The leader said, digging into his pouch again. "Lads, ditch the kit in the rooms. You know the drill."
"Two silver buys you a bath." The orc said, wrinkling her nose at the group. "We have a hot springs in a natural cavern beneath the building, stairs will take you down. Towels are at the entry. Another silver and we'll launder those riding clothes, if you wish."
"Another gold and we'll call it then." The leader said, setting three coins on the bar top. The orc took them and dropped them into a pocket in her apron.
"Deal." She said. She reached beneath the bar and dug out three keys, planting them on the counter and pushing them across. The leader picked up the keys and handed them out to the riders.
"Up the stairs, first left, you'll have the three rooms on the right side of the hall."
Then she smiled at them all and leaned over on the bar, clearly enjoying how their eyes drifted down to her cleavage. She winked at one of the younger of the group, who was less subtle about where he looked.
"Enjoy your stay."
The young lad swallowed hard and blushed as he ducked his head and headed for his room.
There were six of them that trekked down to the stone stairs that led into the basement. The stairs were softly lit here by iron lanterns that hung from the wall in equal spacing on the way to the lower level. At the base of the stairs was a small chamber with several doors and open passages. Two doors were for groups and led to antechambers to the baths, while the open passages led to a communal bathing area. Here the temperature was warm, in contrast to the cooler night air outside. It was humid too, almost steamy.
