“...the lake, then we should get to Divine Lands. I believe that's the fastest way to get there,” Pokora explained, looking at a map sprawled across the table.
Hanna and Elena, her roommates for the next 24 hours, nodded while looking at the parchment.
Elena tapped a small box next to a thin line. “We should skip Rahini,” she suggested. “That way we can get there a whole day earlier. We can take a shortcut through the forest, no?”
The Ork shook her head. “The trees grow too close there, it'll slow us down,” she argued.
The three thought for a second.
“Autumn is right around the corner,” Pokora pointed out. “Elena could control Vok'ren to help us carve a path.”
The Entomancer hummed. “Too early for Vok'ren season,” she explained with a sigh. “Her Excellency won't like it if I upset the natural course of nature.”
Pokora nodded in understanding.
The options were limited.
The city they were in was split by a river that connected directly with a lake that sat half a day away from Divine Lands. Lapia was scared of large bodies of water so taking a boat upstream was out of the question.
The city also offered services to hire beasts of E'er so Chasers could fly to their destination. Natasha was scared of heights so that was out as well.
Pokora wasn't about to argue with two Eternal worshipers that the best course of action was to just say 'fuck Natasha' and force her to fly. She also didn't want to make Lapia uncomfortable since she wanted to be on the older Elf's good graces... for various reasons.
Troublesome women, the Archer thought with an amused smile.
A knock on the door caught their attention.
“It's Her Excellency,” Hanna informed them, stood up, and walked to the door then opened it.
“Hey,” Natasha greeted with that resting bitch face of hers. “We'll go out. Wanna come?”
“A night out doesn't sound bad,” Elena considered and stood up.
Pokora nodded. “Same here,” she sighed and followed.
Planning the way to visit the Gods wasn't exactly stressing, but there was something at the back of the Elf's mind.
To Pokh'Orra Pezh'Che, formerly Evelynn Heart, the Gods of another world were something that had felt especially distant up to that point. Having lived in a world of made up Gods wasn't exactly conductive to be religious even if Gods factually existed in this new world. She believed that if a God is not absolute, then it's not really a God. Not in the traditional sense of the word she was familiar with.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Now, however, having joined the party and seeing that they were indeed going to meet them was a little weird to her. As party leader, it was her task to plan the route. That was a bit... weirder in a way that was hard to describe.
Perhaps it had to do with language.
'God' was something unfathomable. Invisible. Untouchable. Imaginary. Fake, even.
Truth be told, she needed a drink.
A kiss from Yolin would be nice, too.
The party left the building and began the extremely short trip to a tavern across the street.
One of the suns had already hidden behind the horizon, and the other was soon to follow. The clear sky was painted a soft pink with a mix of orange.
Yolin walked ahead and approached the person greeting customers. After a short exchange, Yolin gestured for the group to follow her inside.
The inside of the establishment was cozy, mostly quiet, and well illuminated.
Pokora noticed a sign hanging from the ceiling that read 'Poetry Night', then glanced at Bromisnar.
The Satyr ducked his head a little to avoid hitting the thing.
“You up for that?” The Archer inquired, nodding at the sign.
“Of course he is,” Bonte interjected, wrapping an arm around the man's waist. “My bro's the best at it.”
The Performer let out an amused snort and accepted, “Sure, why not? The expectation is set already, after all.”
Pokora giggled at that and entered the building proper.
It was absolutely packed with people.
A few Performers played music on top of a low stage, keeping the murmur of voices mixed with skills that prevented eavesdropping, as was customary to do in such establishments.
The Archer noticed most eyes were focused on the Golden member of the party, who didn't seem to particularly mind the attention.
A waiter guided the ten to the second floor, then to a door. He opened it and revealed a spacious room with a large, low table.
The wall opposite to the door reached up to waist level, where the tavern's first floor could be seen in its entirety like a balcony of sorts.
The table was surrounded by floor chairs connected to each other. They had cushions and looked admittedly comfortable.
Yolin walked in first, taking a seat near the 'window' that overlooked the first floor, then looked at Pokora in the eye and patted the spot next to her.
The Elf felt her face heat up.
Right in front of everyone? She wondered, doing her best not to look at her companions.
Pokora was a brave woman, though. She had reached level 900 in a matter of forty-nine years. She had faced every weather Galeia could conjure, and had hunted monsters beyond the ability of most mortals.
She walked to her girlfriend and sat on the offered spot, her heart beating like a hummingbird's wings.
As much as she was brave, however, she was shy when in front of people.
The emotion didn't last long, though.
Natasha walked in and sat on Pokora's other side, giving the Elf a cheeky smirk.
The Archer's face burned, then she looked away.
Now I really need a drink!