The inside of the waystation was an assault on the senses. It was more colourful than a songbird and the smell was rank. Take a room filled to the bring with people who got in guts for a living and then consider they had been on the road for weeks. It smelt like swamp sweat in here and Ratface wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t washed either, but she’d been starving and trying to scrape by a living. What was their excuse?

It didn’t help the room was too small for the amount of people here. If all these adventurers were going to Pinewood, then the town was going to double in size. She guessed a golem wasn’t an easy creature to deal with. The eye beams did suggest that too.

The hierarchy was clear by who had a seat and who was forced to stand. Some people must have been really high up because they even had a table. Ratface looked to the side where some stairs probably lead to the bedrooms. It didn’t take much maths to work out this many people weren’t going to fit.

Next to her, Abigail was scanning the crowd. She clearly found who she was looking for because she nudged Ratface and pointed to an older man. He was on his own sitting at a small table. Unlike the rest of them he did just look like a hunter. He was dressed in dark colours and had a bow and a knife with him. The seat next to him already had a few skins.

“Go sell your skin to that man over there. He should take it assuming he hasn’t made his quota yet.”

“What will you be doing?” Ratface asked. Abigail grinned.

“Informing the masses.”

Ratface shrugged and started making her way through the crowd. It was clear that there was a respect for Abigail because the moment Ratface left her presence she was having to push her way through to get to the man. A big sword did tend to encourage giving someone space.

Ratface thanked her parents for blessing her such short stature as she slipped through people’s legs towards the man. Tall people really had it rough.

She made it towards the man who eyed her shoving with some amusement. When she got close, she was delighted to see that his table was a camp one he’d brought in and set up for himself. She’d need to get one of those.

She dropped the skin in front of him then had to move to the side as it blocked her from vision.

“You and I have some trading to do,” she stated. The man watched her silently. Ratface watched back. This carried on for a while until with a sigh he fished into his pocket to pull out a pipe. He took his time lighting it and took a big drag. The pipe’s glo illuminated his face. It was a boring face that was revealed. The pipe lighting added some softness to it but there wasn’t anything about it that stuck out. No big nose or scars. This man needed to get himself a moustache to give himself some memorability.

“Caught that yourself, did you?” He asked eventually.

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“Does it really count as catching if the thing is trying to eat you?” asked Ratface. That earned her a chuckle from the boring man.

“Well, we all use bait from time to time. Using yourself is unorthodox but I won’t judge.” He undid the skin and gave it a once over. “Not a bad cut for a kid. You still got the meat?”

Ratface pulled her bag off her back and dropped it on the table. She’d seen the light about this man. If he could get rid of that weight, he was the most important person here.

Mr Boring pulled the meat out of her bag and Ratface saw Abigail had done a neat job of packing it all. No wonder she’d been able to fit so much of it in there. Ratface watched the crowd in the meantime. There was a lot or shoving and drinking. Ratface’s mum had explained this was how adventurers networked so she knew the score.

Her eyes eventually found her quarry. It wasn’t too hard. Abigail may be many things but hard to find in a crowd was not one of them. She was talking with an older woman. This one was in a robe which inclined Ratface to think she was a mage even if she wasn’t wearing a big hat. She had a bunch of scrolls sticking out of her bag and the two were in an in depth conversation. Abigail pointed over to Ratface and the two looked over. She made sure to look like she was scanning the crowd but kept the corner of her eye on the two of them. The robed woman watched her for a bit as she tapped her finger on her lips. She said something to Abigail which made the other woman frown and the two of them went back to talking.

Ratface tried to follow the conversation. She couldn’t lip read but it was clear by their gestures they were haggling something. The hair on her neck raised as she watched them.

Abigail had been kind to her so far but that didn’t make her trustworthy. Her tribe had been kind to the pigs too before they butchered them. Was this woman the butcher they’d been waiting to meet.

“I’ll give you two silvers for all of this,” said Boring, interrupting her thoughts.

“That seems low,” said Ratface. She had no idea what the actual sale price was but people were always trying to cheat you, so it was a good bet.

“Not as low as it could be. The skins good but not amazing. The meats better but it I have to move quickly to sell it before it goes off. Going to Pinewood is a waste with all these adventurers so I’ll have to go to a town for all this.”

Ratface hummed to herself.

“Two silvers and twenty coppers,” she said after a while. Boring smiled and held out his hand which she clasped. She was surprised to find he had delicate hands though they were still callused in all the right places.

“Trade accepted,” he said, “names William by the way. This your first trade?”

“Ratface. How could you tell?”

He fished out the coins he owed her and handed them to her which she shoved to the bottom of her bag lacking a coin pouch.

“Pretty clear you didn’t know the price range. You could have probably argued me up to three silvers if you did. Calling out the bluff was good instinct.” William held up a hand, stopping any arguments from her before they could begin. “The price is still fair but don’t be afraid to add a silver to the initial price. Most people will happily argue down from that. The ones that won’t were probably trying to cheat you anyway.”

Ratface filed that information away for later then looked across the room to where Abigail was now talking to the adventurers in mass. Their pained expressions told her she was probably telling them about the golem.

“Hopefully Abigail news will open up a room to rent,” she said. William snorted at her in amusement.

“Rent? Ratface this is a waystation. I had to bring my own table. You think there’ll be anything as orderly as renting a room? You’ll be lucky if you get one to share.”

Ratface leaned against the table in despair. She’d been hoping for a real bed. With a sigh she went to leave but found her path blocked by a group she recognised. It was Fletcher and his gang of gaudy adventurers. Something about the way they were standing told her they weren’t just here for a chat.

The hands on weapons really gave it away.