“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that I’d be interrupting something,” Varyan said.
Interrupting something? His cheeks burned up.
“Lord Blitz! No, you’re not interrupting us at all,” Lydia explained, flustered by Varyan’s sudden appearance.
Varyan tilted his head. “Well, it looks like the man is trying to wash himself in peace. We should go, Lydia.”
What a relief. He didn’t take it the wrong way.
Lydia, however, seemed very tense while bowing. Her face was flushed red. “Yes, of course. As you command, my Lord.”
He relaxed a bit. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, but what did he think anyway. I guess she’s not.
Without commenting, he started to clean his torso. He wanted to be done as fast as possible before any more people showed up. The other two made their way back through the bushes.
“Lord Blitz, if I may ask, what were you doing out here? You’re supposed to be at the birthday festivities.” Lydia twitched. “Of course! The birthday!”
Shit! The birthday!
Lydia bowed again. “I wish you the happiest of birthdays! May you live one hundred years, my Lord!”
He turned around awkwardly, trying to hide his lower half behind the rock while bowing to greet Varyan. “Happy birthday, Lord Blitz!”
“Thank you, you two.” Varyan just laughed uncomfortably. “I talked to Cadmun earlier. I’m just glad that your father is doing okay. I heard he was supposed to be staying at the slaughterhouse indefinitely.”
Lydia bowed repeatedly. “You’re too kind, my Lord. Thank you!”
Varyan turned to him. “And I’m also glad you’re okay too, of course. We’ll talk later. Come to me when you’re done freshening up.”
He just nodded and watched the distance grow between the two of them as he stayed hidden behind the rock. Does he know?
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Lydia pointed to the ground near him. “There are your clothes. Next time, you should wash your undergarments as well before going to sleep if you want to avoid illness,” she said with her stricter tone again.
Before he could make out the rags on the ground, she had already turned away and started following Varyan. It’s not like I left them unwashed on purpose. Well, I kind of did.
image [https://i.imgur.com/l2DHbyP.jpeg]
“You should bury that soap when you’re done,” Varyan yelled before disappearing completely into the dark.
Lydia was apologizing profusely to Varyan for breaking the rules again as he lectured her on how dangerous it was to steal from the Adventurers. Lydia argued that technically it wasn’t stealing, but taking back or even borrowing from the Adventurers, but Varyan wanted none of it. The last thing he heard of the two was a discussion about Varyan’s clothes. Now that he thought about it, he started to realize that Varyan wore a linen outfit instead of his slave rags. Did Lydia steal that too?
Once he was sure that the two were gone, he stood up to clean the rest of his body. He tried to finish up as soon as possible before anyone else spotted him. Then, he carefully poured the contents of the bucket over his head to get the mud out of his hair. The warm water running on his scalp had a soothing effect, and for that blissful moment, his thoughts and worries cleared away. When the sensation faded, his rationale returned. He had to make sure to wash his face with clean water from the well later to prevent infection on his wounds. Finally, he used a rag Lydia brought as a towel and put on his clothes. Once he was clothed and cleaned, he felt a deep satisfaction like receiving a hug from a loved one. I feel like a new man.
With his body now alerting him to his other needs, mainly getting food and drink, he started tidying everything up. As instructed, he buried the piece of soap somewhere nearby. He would have liked to use it again someday, but if he smelt too clean in the mornings, then the Adventurers might take notice one day. That’d be bad for Lydia.
He used the rest of the water in the buckets on the piece of tent he’d been wearing before. It’d be best to leave it on the rock to dry in the sun tomorrow before bringing it back to camp. He picked up everything else and made his way straight to the shanty town. It was quite a challenge to find the well behind Lydia’s hut in the darkness, but not one he couldn’t manage. He could hear the commotion of the festivities nearby and fearing that the pork might have been served already, he quickened his pace. Soon, he had filled one of the buckets with water to drink and clean his face with afterwards. Since he didn’t need any more water, he closed the well’s cap and left the buckets on top of it. Now he had only the rags and the fine cloth he used to wash and dry himself with left over. The smartest place to let them dry was the clothesline inside Lydia’s hut he had seen on his first day. That way she could bring back the cloth she probably ‘borrowed’ from the Adventurers in the morning before anyone notices. What if I were to keep it? Am I allowed to own property as a Player?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden disappearance of the noises coming from the slave camp. He didn’t lose any time hanging the rags and cloth and bolted to the campfire.