The sun had fallen beneath the horizon by the time Haydith reached Mitrikov’s Respite. She was leaning heavily into Sherlock’s bloodstained saddle, her eyes half-lidded, as the torchlight of the inn came into view over the horizon. Her Caligan Hound whined with concern as he trotted forward without Haydith’s input.
“Get off the road,” Haydith murmured as she lightly pressed on Sherlock’s flank, commanding him to take a long, looping route toward the inn.
Sherlock followed the command automatically, but his worry for his master slowed his pace. The inn was surrounded by thick foliage, so Sherlock had to duck under branches and lightly jump over roots as he traveled down this route. Haydith moaned in pain as Sherlock’s irregular path caused the saddle to dig into her injured ribs.
As she was carried to the inn, Haydith blurrily took stock of her equipment. Hanging from her saddle were her shortbow, hunting knife, and quiver of arrows. In addition to the clothes on her back, those were the only items which she took with her when she escaped from Etron. It was far too dangerous for her to return home. She might have brought danger back to her parents and younger brother.
Blearily, she fished through her saddlebags and her own pockets in a fruitless attempt to find anything that she had missed the first few times she searched through them. Once more, Haydith’s hand touched nothing more than empty leather. She had brought no food, no water, and no money on her exodus from the capital.
Out of the cover of the trees, Haydith could see the bright light of the torches surrounding the inn. She squinted as the sudden bright light ruined her night vision. The jovial sound of people socializing emanated from inside the inn. Under normal circumstances, the sounds of merriment would have filled Haydith with excitement and drawn her inside. This time, however, the sound of people filled her with dread. Whatever organization was after her could have sent its agents out to the nearby inns in order to search for her. Any person inside of Mitrikov’s Respite could be an assassin sent to kill her.
Haydith weakly swung one leg over the saddle and brought her feet down to the muddy ground below. Hours of riding without a break had sapped the energy from her legs, and she fell into the mud. She fell on her back, completely covering her cloak in mud and manure. A painful wheeze escaped from her lungs as she hit the ground.
For several long moments, Haydith laid on her back and looked up at the starry canvas above. Even in the torchlight, she could see the stars and nebulae much more distinctly than she ever could on Earth. She was in a different world, a world where people killed without a thought and justice came at the end of a sword.
Haydith groaned in pain as she got to her feet. She removed her weapons from Sherlock’s saddle and slung them around her body. The inn would provide more protection than outside, at least. Hopefully, any assassin would not make a move in such a crowded place.
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With a sad look in her eyes, Haydith unsheathed her knife a few centimeters so that the blade was just barely visible. She was certain that the knife was valuable enough to be traded for a night’s stay at one of the inn’s private rooms. The hunting knife had been in her possession for a long time, and the prospect of selling it filled her with sorrow.
New Ability acquired: [Barter].
Haydith just had enough time to wonder what the words that had just appeared at the top of her vision meant when a description of her new Ability filled her vision completely.
The [Barter] Skill allows you to attain the best deal in any situation! This is a passive Skill that compels others engaged in a business transaction with you to view you in the best possible light. If there’s a hidden deal, the target will reveal it with minimal resistance. [Barter] only works on individuals who are dispositionally [Neutral] with you. Any individual who is [Hostile] or [Friendly] is not affected by the [Barter] Ability.
That was Haydith’s fourth unlocked Skill. As a D-Tier, she would not be able to unlock any more Skills until she reached level 25. This Skill, along with the [Lurk], [Sneak Attack], and [Enhance Agility] Skills, would have to carry her through any coming tribulations.
Haydith had to use both hands as she pushed her way into the central area of Mitrikov’s Respite. Three adults in their late twenties or early thirties sat at the bar, and two younger people sat at one of the many circular tables scattered across the floor. Her heart dropped as she realized that all five of them were armed with either melee weapons or arcane foci.
Pulling her mud-soaked cloak tight against her white hair, Haydith hurriedly walked up to the Innkeeper standing behind a bar in the center of the room. The female Innkeeper looked at her closely. She saw her sickly complexion, her filthy clothes, and her eyes which darted frantically around the room.
“Are you alright, girl?” the Innkeeper asked with concern in her voice. Years on the job told the Innkeeper that she would not be a normal customer.
“Yes,” Haydith said quickly, holding her hood low to hide her face from the adults sitting a handful of meters to her right. “I need a room for the night, but I lost my coin purse this morning. I’m willing to trade some of my equipment for the room… or I can work in the kitchen to pay off the room.”
She blurted out that last sentence desperately. It was clear to the Innkeeper that she needed to stay the night.
Pity coloring her features, the Innkeeper said, “I’m real sorry, but all of the private rooms are booked for the night. Now, listen. I think that somebody stayin’ here tonight is a lord, and you know how they are. They value their privacy.” Seeing the despair in Haydith’s expression, the Innkeeper added a few words. “Okay, listen. You can sleep in the common room for free. If you want food and drink, I’ll trade for a few of your arrows.” She looked pointedly at Haydith’s quiver. “How does that sound?”
Haydith was just about to take the Innkeeper up on his generous offer when she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She turned frantically and saw a teenager with black hair, pale skin, and red eyes regard her with a cold expression. The teenager’s eyes held the weight of experience, and Haydith noticed with horror as recognition flashed within his expression.