Heavy plate armor boots ground the dirt and stone beneath heavy treads as the solitary figure walked onward. He wore thick plate that covered his entire body but he stalked forward in it as if the weight hardly registered on his body. Blue and white robes billowed out from beneath the dull golden sheen of his armor, chainmail was visible at the joints. A long golden cloak flowed from fastenings to the armor and fanned out as he walked.
He carried a two handed hammer with a vicious spike on the back.
He did not seem to slow, nor tire, as he trudged past wagons and others on horseback. Each of those that he passed bowed their heads in a fearful reverence and gave him a wide berth. He ignored them all and continued his march to the north.
It was late in the afternoon when he crested a hill, still following the road. There were fewer travelers now as the sun fell lower toward the earth. He grunted and took note of the tavern on the horizon. It would be night soon and even he needed to rest, to eat. His God only did so much before the mortal flesh made it's requirements known. As his stomach was making known now. He shouldered the hammer and set off on a path toward the building.
He arrived at the open door with yellow light spilling out. During the last portion of his walk the sun had dipped low enough to leave a thick blanket of darkness around him. He stepped into the light and blinked, a wall of warmth greeting him as he stepped inside. There was laughter and gentle chatter from those gathered around the tables inside. One of the tables was being served by a large orc, while a smaller elf served those seated at the bar. His head turned, taking in the scene from behind the slit of his helmet.
A few eyes were raised and some conversations paused for a moment, but they regained their footing quickly. Here were fewer superstitious types that would give him deference, here were those seeking glory and gold through combat with monsters of every shape and size. They were unsettled, at worst, by the paladin in their midst. Especially one that served the God of War.
"Welcome to The Last Hearth." The elf said, seemingly appearing at his elbow. He turned his head and looked at her, grunting at her in reply. Then he lifted his helmet free. He was a younger man nearing his thirtieth year with long black hair that stuck to his scalp with the sweat of the enclosed helmet. His face was covered in stubble and even with his God supporting him, he looked tired.
"I require a room for the night." He said. His voice was clipped and stern. He looked down at the elf and she nodded.
"That's...that's sort of what we do here, so I figured that out." She said. "For a Paladin, that's a reduced rate. You can have the room and we have private bathing rooms that you can use."
"I require a room with a secure lock." He continued in that clipped manner. "For my armor. And food. I will need food."
"Even the godly must eat, huh." The elf said. "Alright, let me grab a key and show you to your room."
"No need to show me, I can find my own way." The paladin grunted. The elf shrugged and handed him a key, having retrieved it from under the bar. She watched him trundle up the stairs, thudding with every step while half the inn watched him go. The orc raised an eyebrow at the elf and she grinned a reply.
Some time later, he trudged down the stairs once more. He was free of the armor now, only dressed in robes of blue and white, stained with dirt and dust from his travels. He looked around the room and his eyes fell upon the elf again. He stalked across the room to her.
"You said there were bathing rooms?" He said.
"Yes. I did. Through that door, to the basement. We have a hot springs that feeds it. You can leave your clothes outside the door and we will have someone launder them as well."
"Nhn." The paladin grunted, looking at the door. "I will require food when I come back."
The elf nodded but the paladin was already gone, pushing through the door and thudding down the stairs. Even without armor he was a large man and his weight thumped with every step. The stone stairs led into a warm room in the basement, filled with thin tendrils of steam from under the many doors that led off into other rooms. The paladin followed signs and found a private room, closing the door behind him.
Once inside, he stripped his robes and opened the door only slightly to place the pile outside, before returning to the steam filled room. There was a pool set into the stone and stepped in, finding several stone stairs into the circular pool. The steps created a bench and once he was at a depth he found pleasing he sat on the stone and sighed, leaning back and spreading his arms. The water had a gentle current to it, the water from the hot springs flowing past him and carrying away dirt and somehow, tension and stress. Even the patronage of the God of War did not seem to withstand the relaxing heat that filled his lungs. He settled his head back and closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes at the sound of something scraping on the floor. His neck was nestled against something soft, where it had not been before. And there was someone in the room. He opened his eyes and sighed, blinking and lifting his head to see the elf from the tavern. She had her legs in the warm water, gently kicking back and forth. A tray of food sat between them.
She was naked.
She was short for an elf with a petite frame. She was fit and her body was tightly molded into a work of art even he could appreciate, even having forgone the pleasures of things like that. She was gifted in her physique, with a substantial and firm tits that gently moved as she did. She was leaned back on her palms and it thrust out her chest, the soft pink of her hard nipples thrust upward. He only just managed to push aside the thought that they looked delicious. Her hair was a fiery red and her cheeks and nose sported freckles across. Her eyes were a brilliantly bright green that watched him take in her shape.
He knew, in the back of his mind, that he should be more concerned. But for some reason, he couldn't be. He just didn't have it in him. The elf giggled.
"Everyone who sits in here, they give me that same stupid, dopey look. You look ten years younger without the permanent scowl."
"I don't, I don't understand." He said. His voice felt different too. He didn't have the edge. She sidled closer to him and leaned, her fingers finding his shoulders and beginning to massage them. He practically melted under her deft touch. Her fingertips pressed into his skin and massaged the muscles underneath, the steam working in tandem with her.
