The Golden Fleece was a dump. It was abundantly clear the name of the place was mere hyperbole. Ian found it reminiscent of trucker motels seated all along rural highways. Shabby cramped rooms lined open walkways with stairwells on either end.

“Perfect,” Ian said, “lots of exits, good visibility. Probably get a disease from the mattress.”

Vale ignored him and stepped into the check-in area. Mal broke off to wait outside the door. Rather than relaxing the lupine sat at attention and perked his ears, alert for any hints of danger. Those silvery-red eyes scanned the street with their keen intelligence. He’d received no instruction, but he always seemed to understand where he needed to be and what he needed to be doing.

Some things never change, no matter where you are, Ian thought as they stepped up to the counter.

“How long will you be staying?” Asked a teenage boy with pimples and questionable hygiene. “It’s fourteen til an hour and a hundred even for the night.”

“It may be one night, or it may be longer. You may place my crystal on file and charge us daily if that will be acceptable. Anything on the second floor, please,” she said, handing over her exchange crystal. The clerk ran it and handed it back. Vale took their oversized room key and her crystal from the distracted young man and departed without further conversation.

Heading up to the second floor Mal trotted along behind them, toenails clacking on the metal staircase. The adjacent hotel's entrance was easily visible through their wide bay window. Inside, the room was fairly standard for a hotel-by-the-hour. One reasonably large bed, a bathroom with a sink outside the door, an old worn-down dresser, a small table with two chairs, and even hideous shag carpet.

Ian glanced over the only thing in the room that he didn’t recognize while Vale peeked out through the thin curtains. It was a flat disc of reddish clay with a cloudy prism spinning a few inches above its surface as if suspended by a magnetic field.

“What is that?” Ian asked, nodding at the disc.

“Oh, that? It’s an I.E.” Vale explained. She walked over and pressed the single circular indentation on the disc. A faint light blossomed from the center of the stone disc as it began to spin. The light quickly became bright white and that in turn resolved into the picture of a clean-cut human man sitting behind a desk.

“...And visitors to Raxal are advised to visit Drowers Market today to take advantage of the savings on magical pets in the Mystical Menagerie. Now we’ll go to Oliver Jancor for our weekly Arena updates. Oliver?”

Vale pressed the indent again and the lights went out. “Image Exhibitor. They come in every hotel but hardly anyone one uses them because there’s an improved metal version available. It is an integral means of communication in cities like this, spreading the news and other events of importance. We don’t use them in Landorei, the druid’s feel it detracts from our way of life.”

Ian picked up the device and flipped it over in his hands a few times examining the disc before setting it back down. He was still trying to get used to the casual uses that magic had in this world. It appeared that magic had filled in many technological gaps, and was even an improvement over some areas.

Mal collapsed by the foot of the bed with a bored full-throated yawn. He’d been sniffing and pacing the room since their arrival and decided that was the safest spot to lay down.

Vale pulled off her bow and quiver and laid them across the top of the dresser. She then released the clasp on her cloak, revealing the lithe figure hidden beneath. Ian walked to the bed and sat down making himself comfortable before looking back to Vale. It took far more effort than Ian was comfortable with not to stare. Her leather armor covered nearly every inch of her torso but still allowed her femininity to show through. Something Ian had not been expecting or prepared for.

Vale continued to try her best to acclimate to the space, even shaking her long blonde hair loose from its tie. “I hate being in other cities,” She idly admitted. “It makes me uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people and being away from the green of the forest.”

“I’ve always lived in cities,” Ian responded while clearing his throat. “I don’t know what growing up immersed in nature would be like, but I can say that your homeland is truly beautiful. And even though we just left it, I already miss it.”

The ranger moved to the foot of the bed and bent down to unhook the gear from Mal’s back. Ian caught a smile on her lips as she removed Mal’s harness. She piled the equipment up on the dresser and untied her water pouch. She drank from the pouch and passed it to Ian. She gathered up her empty pack, patted her money pouch, and strode to the door.

“I am going out to get us some mideal,” she said, opening the door, “it is unlikely, but not impossible that they will move this soon after our visit. Mal, I know you do not like it here any more than I do, but please stay alert. I will be back in a few minutes.”

Mal gave the retreating form of his companion the saddest puppy-dog eyes Ian had ever seen. But it was no good as the Ranger was already gone. When the door clicked shut Mal dropped the charade with a huff. The beast then moved to the window and wriggled his head between the sheer curtains, staring out at the street.

Ian drank some of the water himself and found a bowl for Mal in the tiny set of cabinets above the sink. Filling the bowl with water he set it down and then fell back into the bed.

Left alone with his thoughts homesickness, guilt, grief, anger, confusion the list went on and on. Each emotion crept in until his mind became a tangled mess. He focused on the sounds of the city as they came through the poorly insulated walls. The hustle of traffic, the hundred muddled conversations, and a whistling breeze through the narrow alleys were all too familiar. The city noise was, for once, serving as a poor distraction.

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He sat back up deciding that worrying about it wouldn’t change anything. It was time to get to work. He rolled off the bed and pulled a chair up to the window. Pulling the curtains apart slightly he sat down next to his fur-covered stakeout partner.

As the minutes ticked by Ian began playing a game in his head, the same way he always did on stakeouts with Anders. He made up a story about who the passersby were and what they were doing. A group of gnomes, for instance. They were going to a business meeting to show off an invention to potential investors. A trio of elves was attempting to solve an ancient riddle to unearth a long-forgotten treasure. And a hefty, green orc was off to plunder the local villages on the outskirts of Raxal, simply to test his, thus far, unsurpassed strength.

The sound of a key sliding into a lock pulled Ian’s attention away from the window. He and Mal turned their heads in unison to see Vale returning with the food she had promised. Immediately the scent of cooked meat struck Ian’s nose. The smell caused his stomach to rumble in anticipation.

“Anything of interest?” Vale asked as she set a box of sweet-smelling meat down onto the table, followed by her no longer empty pack.

“Not as far as I could tell,” Ian said over his stomach growl.

She pulled out more items than could have possibly fit in the pack: a loaf of bread, several cream-colored cloth bags, corked bottles, and a mesh sack of Teralass fruits. She got out a set of bowls and some wooden utensils from the cabinet and set them on the table.

“I expected as much. Let’s eat,” she said pulling the strings from around the cloth bags. The first contained a rice-like grain, only it was deep pink and, still steaming. The second held chips of either dried or fried vegetables in various colors. The last released a foul stench and held something dark-green and homogenous, similar to a wad of steamed spinach.

Vale reached behind her and with an impressive flourish drew a long, curved blade. Faster than Ian’s eye could follow, she sliced the bread and sheathed the blade in one fluid motion. She filled up her bowl with a few spoonfuls of rice, the green mush, and a small slice of bread. She slid a second bowl of rice over to Ian and indicated the meat on the table for him.

“I did not know what you would like, so I got you and Mal grilled bogkin,” she said as she passed him a pronged utensil.

Ian picked up the utensil and examined it. In Landorei he’d eaten finger food, or with a spoon so this was new. Two thick wooden chopsticks meeting at a hinge on the top. Broad metal fork tines were molded onto the ends of each stick at the bottom and created a spoon-like divot when pressed together. He spooned out a healthy portion of the dark, finely chopped meat onto his rice and figured out how to use the odd instrument. I’m not asking what it’s called, I’m just naming this one myself. It’s a fork-stick and I love it already. He bit into the bogkin.

The smell of the meat was appetizing, but the taste was exquisite. It was akin to eating tiny nuggets of filet mignon marinated in a heavenly concoction of spices and sauce. He couldn’t suppress a groan of satisfaction as the meat practically melted on his tongue.

“Alright, this,” He spoke between mouthfuls, “is incredible. What’s in this?”

“Aside from the bogkin? The dish traditionally has lotus honey, dwarven red wine, peppers, and a salty sauce that it absorbs for a few days before cooking.” Vale said from the window. She’d taken her meal over there to keep an eye on the hotel.

Mal stared silently at Ian from his seated position next to the table. Even sitting, his nose was higher than the bowls on the table and he could have easily reached it, but he minded his manners. Ian found an empty bowl and put a heaping spoonful of meat into it for Mal. He took another look at the hulking wolf and upended the container of bogkin into the dish filling it to the top. With a glance at Vale to see that she had no objections and he placed the bowl in front of Mal. It didn’t last long, disappearing without a trace in a few bites. Ian uncorked one of the bottles, which gave a carbonated hiss, and picked up his bowl heading back to the window.

Ian stole a few thoughtful glances at Vale. She had changed since their initial encounter. Her cold and suspicious demeanor replaced by genuine interest and sympathy. The way she’d smiled at him and her light-hearted teasing when they’d picked out his new outfit. It made him feel relaxed, comfortable around her, made him feel like he had gained a true friend.

“Thank you,” Ian broke the silence, his voice quiet, “and I’m... sorry for all this trouble.”

It wasn’t that he was a prideful man or that the words were hard to come by. It was the reality of this place. He had to accept that he might never get to see his home again. And while she was doing her best, he was a stranger in a strange land and out of his depth.

The longer he sat there and listened to the familiar yet wrong sounds of the city, the harder it was to fight off his despair. And here she was a total stranger who was kind enough to help him, despite the risk, and he’d been nothing but trouble for her. He couldn’t adequately express how grateful he was to her, but the words were a start.

She looked up at him from her dish. A small piece of greens, sticking out between her lips. She set her fork-sticks down, darting her tongue out to pull in the piece of fawn-leaf.

“You are lost. It is a Ranger’s duty to help those who are lost to find their way. There’s no need for thanks, Ian,” she said giving him a quick comforting smile, “but you are most welcome.” Her gaze had gone back to the window, but her smile broadened when she felt his eyes on her.

When they had finished eating Ian headed into the bathroom while Vale kept watch. Hours ticked by and the sun headed toward the horizon. Ian spent the time trying his level best to get out of his head. He was in the middle of mentally crafting a note to his Mom when Vale’s voice cut through the tangle of his thoughts.

“Hmm… isn’t that the minotaur from the law firm?” Vale asked.

“Don’t you mean mini-taur?” Ian replied, laughing at his own joke as he crossed the room.

“Yes. I’m certain. He’s far too short to be forgotten,” Vale said, ignoring Ian’s jab at the lawyour’s height.

Mal perked his ears from his spot on the floor where he’d been resting. The lupine sensing in his companion’s voice that action was near.

Ian slipped his shoes back on while Vale rearmed herself.

“Come. We need to get to our other room,” she reached over and squeezed his hand, “Let’s get you home.” She dashed out the door, Ian following right behind, trying not to trip over Mal as he raced by.

Together they made their way down to the street and into the crowd, blending in with a long line at a food vendor’s cart. They watched the entrance to see if any reinforcements might be following behind the minotaur lawyour, hiding in plain sight. It wasn’t until someone in the crowd let out a scream that Ian and Vale shifted their gaze from the door. A woman was pointing at the side of the building. Ian and Vale followed her finger trying to find the source of her distress.

Then, all hell broke loose.