Chapter 34 - Untitled (Non-Crunchy)

Name: Charisse Race: Human

Ht: 5’6, Wt: 130, Sex: Female,

Archetype: Rogue

HP: 7 / 7 Mana: 0 / 0

Stats:

Physical : 2, Moxie : 3, Spiritual : 2, Luck : 3,

Agility : 3, Magic : 2, Mental : 2, Energy : 2.

Relevant Skills: Moxie - Deceive, Archetype - Awareness, Physical - Seduce

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"I hate fucking waiting," Charisse said. "I'd guess we spend 60% of our waking time waiting in this damn game." She was sitting at a table with her friends, minus Jax. The wooden table, warped by years of spilled drinks and tiny holes from daggers or items, stabbed into it. Todd was gently tapping the top of the table with his knife.

"Maybe find a way to use the downtime productively," Todd said as he lifted his knife to look at the blade, then resumed stabbing the table.

"That's a good idea. Do you have an apple to put on your head?" Charisse pulled out an arrow and, with exaggerated movements, looked around for her bow.

"Seriously, guys, Jax has only been gone a few minutes." Reggie rolled his eyes and shook his head. All four heads turned toward the wooden door leading to a private room off to the side.

The tavern was packed, all of the chairs had someone sitting in them, the fifteen tables were packed. Only a few drinks peppered among the occupants, a dozen heads looking in the direction of the room. A long bar stretched along one wall, three people milled behind it, fetching drinks and taking payment. Charisse recognized lots of people from their traveling village amongst the crowd.

Todd's dagger stabbing into the table became audible as the din of the tavern disappeared. The door to the office opened, and Jax emerged from it.

Charisse lifted her head a little as she scanned the crowd. Almost everyone in the place was looking at Jax and the door. A few people were looking out over the crowd or toward the entrance of the tavern: the bartender, Frederick, Xantha, Sirah, and three people she didn't recognize.

She made mental notes of characteristics of three people, a bald man with a fur cape, a young lady in a faded blue dress and black hair, another lady with black hair, and a dark grey dress.

Jax scanned the room before his eyes settled upon Charisse's table. As he weaved through the crowd, Charisse stood up.

"I'm gonna get a drink, have Jax start without me; you can fill me in later." Charisse started walking before anyone had a chance to say anything. As she walked, she tried to meet the eyes of her trainees; she managed to get Xantha and Sirah's attention and motioning to the bar.

Charisse got there first, finding an open area along the long counter. Loudly slapping a gold coin again the wood, she waved it when one of the bartenders looked at her. She left the coins on the bar as she turned and leaned against the wood. Sirah and Xantha met up on the way and arrived together.

"Can I get either of you a drink?" Charisse said.

"Sure, throats a little dry," Sirah said. Xantha nodded in reply as well.

Charisse glanced over her shoulder and didn't see a bartender nearby yet. A quick peek at the nearest people along the bar; with no one looking toward them, she beckoned closer to the trainees.

"Bald man with a fur cape, a lady with blue dress and black hair, and the lady with a grey dress and black hair," Charisse said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the bartenders finally walking over in her direction. "Didn't recognize them."

"What'll it be?" a thin man wearing a black shirt and pants said as he wiped his hands on a mottled towel hanging from his waist.

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"Eight ales, please." Charisse put the gold coin on the counter and nudged it toward the bartender. The man stared at the coin then met Charisse's gaze. She pulled out two more gold coins and put them on the table. The man grabbed two and walked off. "Expensive bar."

"Nope, just hardly anyone is drinking, and there's too many for me to kick ya all out." The bartender said from a few feet away.

"Oh, sorry, I…" Charisse nudged the remaining gold coin toward the bartender.

"I don't need your charity, just wishes more people bought some drinks." The bartender said as he walked over, setting down a small tray and four drinks on it.

"How much do you normally make on a night?" Charisse said she turned and counted the number of people in the bar, arriving at the number 72 quickly.

"Three, maybe three hundred and fifty gold a night." The man said as he poured the fourth cup.

Charisse mulled over the number while the man finished bringing over the other drinks. She mentally reviewed how many coins she had in one of her purses, nowhere near the amount quoted, but she guessed at least seventy gold and change. She pulled out the money pouch, opened it, sifted a few of the coins around, then set it on the bar. Giving it a little push toward the bartender.

"Not near the amount you're losing, but should help; I'm guessing there is a chance we'll be back tomorrow." Charisse tried to put on a cute smile, flash some teeth, and fluttered her eyes.

The bartender cringed, leaning away from her as he picked up the bag of coins. He motioned to the drinks then quickly went back down the bar.

"I guess I need to practice more," Charisse said.

"No, I'm sure a nervous yet creepy smile, while looking like your holding in a two-day-old shit, works on someone," Sirah said.

Together they carried the drinks back to Charisse's friends. Setting the trays on the table, Charisse resumed sitting in her chair.

"If we are going to keep using this place, we may want to start compensating the loss of business," Charisse said, nodding her head over toward the bartender.

"We already did; I spoke to the owner earlier and gave him some coin," Jax said, looking toward the bar. "Why?"

"No reason, just I got screwed." Charisse looked toward the bartender she'd given the gold to and made a note to memorize his face. "What's the verdict?"

"We are going ahead; take a couple of missionaries with us. They'll recruit and send people back here, and those here will train, and any who want to join us at the capitol will start heading that way."

"When do we leave?" Charisse said.

"Tomorrow," Jax stood up and gave a slight bow. "I'm going to go talk to the owner."

"Don't worry about it; the bartenders probably don't get tipped anything tonight anyway," Charisse said.

"If the owner employs a thief, I'm sure he would like to know," Jax said.

"Let it go; I promise I'm letting it go also," Charisse said. "I'd rather just keep moving forward."

Jax nodded and sat back down. The table was silent as everyone took in the moment. A few minutes later, someone stood up from a far table and pulled out a lute. He started strumming on it while singing a song that didn't pierce the fog of sound already hovering over the tables.

"The ladies are for hire," Sirah's voice whispered into Charisse's ear. "

They mistakenly thought the bar being rented out meant serious money was flowing; we are still looking into the bearskin guy."

"Sirah, can you repeat that for the whole table, please?" Jax said, his narrowed eyes burrowing through Charisse.

Sirah stood up straight then repeated her statement, "Charisse noticed them earlier and didn't recognize them."

Jax's gaze moved to meet Charisse's eyes.

"I'm not sure if I would have said anything, they seemed harmless, but I wanted to make sure." Charisse shivered under the gaze of her friend.

"As long as you are not taking any action in the name of the movement without authorization. I appreciate your concern and eye for security, but remember this movement is not about us; while we started it and are going to use it to get home, these people have to live with the consequences of our actions."

Charisse nodded her head and gave a slight smile. In the corner of her eye, she watched the fur coat man.

Jax's eyes darted over to the side; he turned his head and looked in the direction of the fur coat man. Rolling his eyes, he stood up, pointed at Charisse, and beckoned her to follow. Together both of them swam through the crowded bar toward the interloper.

"Excuse me; I don't know you, and most of the people here I do know," Jax said once he was next to the man. The tables around them quieted as dozens of people watched Jax.

"Eh, I'm nobody, just came in for a drink." The fur coat man said.

"It must be tiring just standing; how about joining us at our table?" Charisse said. She turned and pointed toward her table of friends.

"Uh, sure," The fur coat man said.

Charisse turned and headed back to the table, not looking back to see if anyone was following. Getting to the table first, she whispered to her friends, "got a stranger joining us."

Everyone looked at the man coming through the crowd. His bald head reflected some of the tavern lights as the long fur cloak waved as he strode through the crowd. The volume of the room lowered as multiple tables watched the procession.

As they got to the table, Charisse pointed toward an open seat as she resumed sitting on her chair. The man sat and nervously glanced around the table.

"Look, I didn't mean any disrespect; this was just the closest bar." The man said—his right hand resting against his abdomen.

"None taken; we have found that new friends are just a stranger we haven't said hello to," Charisse said.

The bald man's eyes squinted a little toward Charisse, then he smiled and held out a hand. "Names Henderson, a trapper by trade and a pursuer of women by divine right." He winked at Charisse and gave a smile.

"Henderson, my name is Charisse, and this is…" Charisse introduced everyone at the table and Jax standing nearby. "Let's get some drinks to wash away the day,"