It was wonderful to have a goal. Even with three days of constant gliding and flying, she didn’t grow tired. Quite the contrary.
Giddy with excitement, Rethia flew loopings, twirled around the clouds, or played tag with the occasional flock of birds.
Often, she stopped to draw her own little maps, cross-referencing with the map from the harpy village. Hers definitely had more detail. But they also were smaller.
She also grabbed whatever edible plants she could find on those stops: herbs, fruits, wild veggies, roots and early nuts.
The landscape didn’t change much in those days. Further south, the forests were jungles. Below her and northwards, they were temperate forests. It was a changing tapestry of plains, copses and forests. Lakes dotted the landscape like buttons and streams sewed everything together.
Only near the villages and cities did the land change to relatively ordered rectangles of fields, the neat rows giving it a funny pattern.
Like a head with braided hair that goes in every direction.
In the late afternoon of the third day, she spiraled down to a city that was smack-dab west of Nitia.
“Might as well enjoy proper food, right?”
“Gii…”
“I didn’t mean it like that! You’re a good cook! You just need more experience. Which also means tasting the food of others, right?”
“Guu… gi…”
“Uhm… how about I buy you some new spices? Or…” No. I don’t think anyone would write recipes on expensive paper. And even if, it would sell for a horrendous price… But if I can find a cheap one, I’ll definitely buy it for Sven! If I have the money…
“Gigii…” Sven was at least pacified by the prospect of getting new spices.
With that damn restricting cloak around her shoulders, she patiently waited in line in front of the city gates, Sven on her shoulder.
The stares of the humans lining up behind her were unnerving, whispers reaching her ears:
“What do you think she is?”
“She’s got claws on her feet…”
“Don’t care what that is, long as its not dangerous.” Probably an answer to the first voice.
“You sure its even a her? Could be anything with a demi-human.”
“Idiot, those are talons, not claws!” whispered one exciting voice, sticking out of the mish-mash of whispers.
“What’s the difference?” asked the second voice back.
“Birds have talons! Cats and dogs and foxes have claws. And look how thin and leathery her legs are. Those must be talons!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then it can only be a bird-type beastperson. And as far as the lore goes, the only bird-types are harpies!”
“A harpy? Here?”
“Ain’t harpies extinct?” asked a new voice, sounding much older than the others.
“They can’t be extinct! They’re a dream come true! They were just a terribly difficult race to-”
There was a thump, followed by a tiny cry from the excited voice: “What was that for?!”
“Watch your mouth! Or do you want a repeat of Peters’ case?” hissed the second voice.
“No… of course not… It’s just… if they made it easier, we would see so…”
The gatekeepers waved her forward, and her attention was drawn away from the whispered conversation.
“Identification.”
Sven tugged the tag around her neck free and showed it to the nice guardsman.
“Huh. An adventuring harpy. Now I’ve seen everything. Ain’t you guys usually with the merchants guild?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s three silver to enter Fields End. Keep your wings to yourself and an eye on your pet. If that monkey stirs up trouble, you are responsible.”
Rethia paid the fee and entered the city.
“It really was a harpy! But why the cloak? You think she’s… you know… naked below?”
“Idiot! Didn’t you hear? The guardsmen know other harpies. Seems they are regulars ar-”
And then the sounds of a busy main street washed over her. Vendors hawked their wares, children screamed and laughed. Horses clopped by. A rare wagon squeaked as it was pulled over the cobbles.
She took a deep breath, enjoying the different scents: Grilled meats, stews, roasted vegetables.
Further down the street, the acrid scent of hot metal and herbs mixed into it all, the rythmic clang of hammers underlining the chatter.
The central plaza was easy to find, as was the adventurers guild. The building looked near-identical to the one in Nitia. The insides were equally the same. The reception, the request board and the tavern part.
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“Wooow. You think they did it on purpose?”
With the late afternoon, the reception was full, blood-splattered people standing in line to hand in their requests and get their rewards. Those who were finished went to the tavern part and sat with their waiting friends, eating and drinking.
“Welp, let’s go shopping first.” Out the door and into the adjacent guild shop, she went.
“Hello~ Do you sell spices?”
“Only the standard fare. If you want something special, like pepper, you have to go to a specialised shop. My personal recommendation is Sinbars Spice Corner, over in the shopping district, third lane, tenth house.”
“And they’ll charge an arm and a leg, I guess.”
“Of course. Transporting special spices takes money, as does the import.”
Rethia sighed and patted Sven.
“Can you show me the spices you sell? Aha… hum… I’ll take this and this. And… Sven, you want that one, too?” pointing at the spice in question, Sven carefully sniffed it and nodded, holding his paws to his nose. They had never seen that one before.
“And that one. And… do you know if someone sells cookbooks, or recipes? You know, for beginners to learn cooking…”
“Haha! Wait, that was no joke? You mean that? Why… why would the great cooks put down their recipes? That’s like maps to merchants. If recipes were sold just like that, whole restaurants would loose their business. No. Though…” the clerk cocked his head and gave it another thought. “I heard that some Wanderers opened shops in the capitals. Maybe they sell it? From what we heard through the guild, they sell about anything, and much cheaper than the locals, too. You can guess that they’ll make enemies sooner rather than later, if they keep that up. And they also sell strange stuff. Things no one has ever seen before.”
“Really? In which cities have they shops, do you know?” interest piqued, Rethia leaned in. “Oh, and can you sell me those bottles of colored ink and a notebook?”
“Here you go. That makes thirteen silver. Be careful with that ink. The color stains worse than normal ink. The cities where Wanderers have opened shops… let me think… It was Ovemar, Zymar and Valgamar on the western coast. Zilraint and Tavraint in the north. Nemeia in the far east. And south… I haven’t heard of many Wanderers in the southern desert. Or in the central part of the continent. Well, maybe it’s a coincidence that those large cities are close to where the first – and most - Wanderers showed up.” The clerk shrugged and Rethia wrote all this information down into a notebook.
“Thank you,” she smiled, stowing her purchase while Sven counted out the money. “This will be very helpful.”
“No problems. If you ever pass through again, after visiting one of their shops, do tell me what they sell. Maybe bring some of their strange wares with you?” The clerk looked at her with hopeful eyes.
“I’ll try to do that. Have a nice evening.”
Glancing back into the reception hall, she decided to stand in line. It had gotten a little shorter, but new people were constantly coming in, filling the line back up.
“Sven, can you see if there are herb requests for Dawns Fowl, Fly Sparklers and Witch Hats?”
He gave her an affirmative “gii” and went to climb around the request board, throwing the people milling in front of it into confusion and chaos, as they tried to either pet him, or catch him. Rethia grinned at the spectacle.
“Hey, I saw it first!”
“As if! I saw it first!”
“Hands off, I’ll pet it!”
Sven had too much fun, jumping around hands, throwing them into each other and chittering at them from the top of the board.
Rethia trilled when she finally stood in front of the reception. Sven hopped from one head to the next, then ran over the floor and up her cloak, with several papers rolled up in his tail.
“Thank you, Sven.” She scratched him under his chin with a smile, ignoring the baffled stares from the humans.
“That can’t be. It already has an owner?
“I wonder where I can get such a monkey…”
“That’s not fair!”
“Aww… I wanted to pet it at least once… it looks so soft…”
“Sorry for the commotion. I want to accept and hand in these requests. Is that possible?” asked Rethia of the receptionist. A tall human male with long brown hair in a pony tail. There was not a single wrinkle in his uniform.
“Hm… yes. If you have the requested herbs, then I see no problem. Though it’s bad etiquette to steal such easy quests from the newbies,” sniffed the human.
“Really? Didn’t know that. There isn’t much else I can do with my skillset, and all the herb requests are E ranked.”
The human sniffed again, but checked the herbs she put on the counter without complain. The requests were approved and logged onto her tag, the meager reward handed over.
“Is there an inn you can recommend for a night?”
The human made a grimace: “No.”
“Really? That’s too bad. Well anyway, thank you for your help.”
Just outside of the guild, she stopped in her tracks. Can’t recommend an inn? In such a large city? I can’t believe it. Was he annoyed because of Svens’ antics? Or because of the requests I took?
Turning back, she entered the shop-part, instead of the main building.
“Excuse me~”
“Yes? Oh, you again.”
“Yes~ I was wondering, if you could recommend an inn? Just for a single night. I am hoping for something cheap, but with good food?”
“Why didn’t you ask the first time?”
“I thought to ask the receptionists, while handing in some herb requests on the fly, but he said he knew none…”
“Huh?! Who was that idiot?!”
“A tall human male, with long brown hair. Wears it in a ponytail?”
The clerk put her face into her palm, muttering inspired curses for several minutes, before raising her head again.
“Sorry about that. He’s a devout believer of human supremacy and it irks him that he was sent here – so close to the neutral kingdom. He makes life difficult for everyone not human, even for the elves who are this kingdoms allies. Haah… Let me think… There are several inns I can recommend. The Yawning Cat near the main street. The Silver Anvil, over in the craftsmens district and uhm… the Brass Bass, close to the shopping area.
“They are not the cheapest inns, but the food and room are good enough for what you pay.”
“Thank you very much. I was dreading sleeping another day outside.”
“My personal favorite is the Bass. They have very good food for cheap, but the Silver Anvil is a close second.”
“Then the Brass Bass it is. I hope they still have rooms.”
“Sorry, we’re completely full.”
“No can do. Full to the brim.”
“We got not a single free room,” said the innkeeper of the Yawning Cat.
“And in the stables?” It couldn’t be that all three recommended inns were out of space. It just couldn’t!
“Well…” The man shifted his eyes to the side.
The matron hit her husband over the head. “There is still a free bed in the shared room of the Wanderers, if you have no problem with them.”
“I’ll take it. One night, and dinner, please.” Relieved, Rethia counted out the coins.
“It’s through that door, the last bed on the right side.” The matron swiped the coins from the counter, before Rethia could think about it again. “Dinner for guests is over there.”
“Thank you, miss.”
Walking away, she heard the matron whisper at her husband hotly: “Idiot! Sending a paying customer away when half the house is empty!”
“But honey, she’s not human! Did you see those wicked talons and claws?”
There was a whack and a whimper.
Her mood soured. Is that why the other two inns didn’t have free rooms? Because I’m not human? Huh… better keep an eye on the prices, too. Maybe I should’ve slept outside.
At least the meal was delicious and filling: a creamy stew with a thick slice of dark bread – which she fed to Sven. Who, to the dismay of the serving girl, sat on the table.
“It better be house-trained,” growled the serving girl.
“No worries, he trained me well. I barely loose feathers everywhere nowadays,” smiled Rethia at the girl, grabbing the bowl of stew with her claws and slowly slurping it down. Once in a while, she speared a large piece of carrot or meat with a claw and carefully chewed it. To a disgusted whisper of “barbaric beastpeople”.
If that’s how they treat me now, I wonder what it would be like, if I walked around without my cloak. Outright discrimination? So close to the neutral kingdom and the beastlands? Then again… I didn’t see any beastperson in this city. There are only humans…
What she didn’t count on was the fact, that the way from Nitia to Fields End was at least a 12 day trip for a Landbound. Only the more open-minded merchants and adventurers did that kind of trip. And Fields End was 7 days from the border. One could say it was in the heartlands of this kingdom, and the normal people were heavily influenced by the sermons of their priests.
The room was very small, for the ten beds. In fact, there was no other furniture than the beds, and only small spaces in between to allow walking.
And I paid two silver for this?! That’s a scam!