Chapter 10 Blood & Breakfast
Unable to sleep, Nemophily gently pulled her feet out from under Fisher’s sleeping head and disentangled herself from Zawn’s leg as she eased out of the overcrowded bed. Tonight, she was thankful that Zawn was a loud snorer; the noise hid the creaks of the floorboards as she dressed in the dark and crept out of the their room. Once she was in the hallway, she stretched her shoulder and made her way towards the inn’s tavern. No one noticed or cared that her static-filled hair looked positively electrified. Or that she was a mess. Most avoided eye contact with Aamonwelp in a city like this. Her demon-like appearance tended to put strangers on guard.
She didn’t care anyway. Not much. But, of course, the flirty innkeeper spotted her as she crossed the foyer to The Happy Dragon tavern. “Oye. There you are agin, m’horned pretty.” He winked. “Need a better room?” His smile was a bit too wide to be appealing. She could see something green in his teeth. “I know of one you can use. If you don’t mind sharin’, that is.”
As she regarded him, the innkeeper’s lurid grin became wider. How could it possibly get even wider? She did her best to ignore him and glide on by. At least he didn’t make the usual “horny” joke, she thought, holding back a smile. But really, she was surprised a human was interested an Aamonwelp at all. The underworld vibe was usually a turn-off for other races.
Nemophily entered the tavern and was greeted by an "Oye!" as an empty jug crashed into the wall. Another almost careened off one of her horns, but she ducked. This town really has no culture…or drink has robbed them of it.
She spotted Tine and Kylia across the bar. They looked pretty sodden themselves. They were giggling and hovered behind a serious-looking elf who was intently lighting and relighting about a dozen candles on a table. Well, at least that’s interesting.
Kylia saw her first, and nudged Tine, who waved and yelled for her. “Nemopheeely! Thish way!” Tine’s cat tail waved, too.
Nemophily pulled up a chair and received a death glare from the elf, who glanced at her briefly before resuming her odd candle ritual. Nemophily cleared her throat. “So…making new friends with interesting…hobbies?”
The elf snarled, “Hobby, my ass” and went back to ignoring Nemophily as she lit another candle as she brushed one of her cyan braids out of the way.
Hmm. Usually elves aren’t so crass. Maybe she’s a dark elf. Nemophily shook her head. No, no, don’t fall into stereotypes. Elves are allowed to be uncouth, too.
She puller herself out of her reverie; she was on a mission, after all. “Have either of you seen Rhalie since we left the boat?”
Kylia swayed a little, finger to her lips, as she thought. “Um…”
“I think you’d know right away, don’t you?” Nemophily crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
Kylia brightened. “Oh, yeah, right!” She shook her head. “Nope. No Rhalie.”
Kylia went back to her ale and surreptitiously—or so she thought—blowing on the pyro elf’s candles. Tine seemed less tipsy. Nemophily decided to try talking to her instead.
“I’m just worried since we haven’t seen Rhalie. Apparently, vampires prowl at night. We were warned to stay in when we got our room.” She thought a moment. “Don’t you two have a room?”
Tine played with her tankard, and took a sip. “No. Kylia and I figured it wash cheaper to shtay in the tavern until morning.” She leaned over a little too much to one side in her chair.
Kylia raised her mug. “It was a shrewd calculayshun.” WIth a yell, she added, “Math is POWER!”
“I see,” Nemophily said, ignoring Kylia for now. “I just hope she’s alright. I thought of looking for our gnome friend in case she was in trouble.”
At this, the candle-lighting elf laughed. “That would be so dumb.”
Nemophily paused before answering. She couldn’t recall ever being called dumb before. She had been called oblivious, inane, daft, incomprehensible, yes, but dumb? That was new.
She tilted her head and addressed the odd, grogshop denizen, “I beg your pardon, but whoever why?”
The elf put her candle down. “It’s obvious. Anyone who knows anything knows the vampires will leave her alone. That’s why.”
Nemophily rubbed her temple. Damn insomnia. I should have stayed in bed. She examined her knowledge of vampires for a reason that would make sense, and came up short. “Ok, I concede. And why is that? I don’t see why they would leave her alone.”
“Because gnome blood tastes god awful, that’s why.”
Nemophily put her hands on her hips. “According to whom? And how do you know, anyway?” She tapped her foot. “I’ve read approximately 9.5 books on vampirism and none of them say such a thing!”
Tine poked the elf. “Ooh. I think she’s got you there. She’s not lying.”
The elf looked at the ceiling as if deciding something, or perhaps praying to her god to vanquish the three annoying creatures that were bothering her. After a moment, she pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to Nemophily. “Look, it’s my job to know.”
Nemophily read the crimson piece of paper. It read: Leontina Ungive, Blood Broker. She took this in. “So…you sell blood?”
Leontina crossed her arms and tapped one shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that, demon. I buy and sell blood. So, yes, I am an authority on this subject. Turn the card over.”
Nemophily did, and found a list of prices by the pint:
Human - 100 g/pt
Mutkin - 80 g/pt
Stolen story; please report.
Elf - 60 g/pt
Aamonwelp - 35 g/pt
Dwarf - 20 g/pt
Gnome - you pay me
For once, she was lost for words. She looked up from the card to the elf. “How…?”
“How is that decided? By taste, of course. The Strige will pay big money for high quality blood. The worst it tastes to them, the cheaper the rate on the market. It’s simple, really.”
Nemophily pointed to the card with a long fingernail, “…and this ‘you pay me’ business? What exactly does THAT mean?”
“Oh, come on, you can guess, can’t you? It’s unsellable. Stuff tastes awful.” Leontina took the card back and tucked it in a pocket. “I can’t make a single copper off of it.”
“Off of what?” A familiar voice piped from behind Nemophily, near her elbow.
She spun around. “Rhalie? Where have you been?”
Rhalie crossed her arms and lowered her eyelids. "I got myself a room, duh.” She snorted. “What? Do you think I’ve be dumb enough to hang out in a tavern all night? After two—ok, three— hours of shots, a gnome’s gotta take a nap, y’know.”
Nemophily turned back to the overly drunk duo of Kylia and Tine. “How did you miss her in such a small tavern? Honestly?”
Tine and Kylia looked each gave the other a sidelong glance. Tine pointed to the candles as if to indicate they were impossible to ignore. Kylia tapped her chin. “Hmmm. Good queshtyun. Schmall tavern, schmall pershon?”
Nemophily wished she had a book with her, so she could use it to hit one of them on the head. “Ok, let’s get you two to a room. You’re a menace to yourselves.”
“To me, you mean. I can’t do a slip of business with these two idiots about,” Leontina grumbled.
“Ooo. She’s an angry elf,” Tine mumbled, looking back, as Nemophily ushered them all upstairs for the night.
Why do I even bother? I should never have gotten up in the first place. Nemophily coaxed them out of the tavern, where her two friends passed out on the floor of her room at the inn. She crawled back into the crowded bed and, exhausted, Nemophily finally slept.
[https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg]
Tine held her head. It didn’t work. Well, she was holding it, all right, but her head still felt like it was spinning, regardless. She pushed back a plate of fish and eggs. Mut, no. Can’t handle that just now, she moaned inwardly, head pounding. Despite the hangover, Tine and Kylia had left Nemophily’s room early; Zawn’s snoring was just too much to take. Fisher came with them, but Nemophily didn’t seem bothered by the snoring, and slept in. Rhalie was also likely sleeping in her room.
Tine, bleary-eyed, looked at the others eating breakfast together at the table. Or, rather, tables. They needed to push a few together for the group. Good thing they seemed to be the only patrons The Happy Tavern had in the morning hours. Tine looked over at Kylia, who looked tired, but overall, fine. How can she look fine?
Quiet, she wearily took in the scene. Aside from Autumnus and Hafoc, there were a few new faces. She remembered Crazy Annie, but not the brightly clad bard who joined them for an impromptu breakfast meeting. Possibly noticing her stare, Lou stretched his arms lazily; Tine wasn’t sure if he was really waking up, or showing off his biceps through his yellow, silk shirt. Perhaps both.
Tine caught Hafoc eyeing Lou. He began flexing his muscles, too. “Oh, yeh,” Hafoc grunted. “Time to stretch that ol’ bow arm.”
She rolled her eyes. Thank Mut that Autumnus isn’t bothering with that nonsense. She looked over at her Aamonwelp friend, who was neatly cutting into his scrambled eggs with a fork and knife, oblivious. He saw her looking at him and, mouth full, offered her a bit of eggs from his fork. She shook her head.
Earlier, Lou had overhead them talking about the curse and finding ways to earn some much needed gold, when he pulled up a chair to listen in. Right now, he was in the middle of providing unsolicited advice. He winked at Kylia and scooted his chair closer to hers. Tine noticed his hands looked busy under the table, doing Mut-knows-what. Tine wondered if he was getting fresh, but Kylia didn’t seem to notice. In general, he seemed the gentleman; when Kylia’s bag fell off her chair, he was the first to pick it up.
Lou somehow spoke as if he were onstage, but also as if his audience was Kylia alone. ”As a man who has spent the last year underground, I can't speak to the encroaching ice you tell of. As for coin, I create my own business opportunities—“ Lou was interrupted by a loud snore. Crazy Annie was still asleep, head on the table. "...and you all don't look like performers." He continued, as he stroked his beard and pulled it to a point, thinking. "But for quick cash, I've heard that boars have been attacking merchants when they leave Svlandir through the forest. I bet you could get some of them to pay you to be rid of that nuisance. That, or maybe set up a shell game table." He says hands out, with a grin.
Tine and Autumnus shared a glance. Autumnus spoke first. “Let’s not do a shell game, shall we not?” He looked around the table for consensus. Tine nodded, Kylia and Hafoc continued eating and ignored the question entirely, apathetic. Fisher sucked on a piece of bacon and eyed Lou with obvious suspicion. Tine noticed Fisher was so short, that he looked like a child in the chair.
Lou smiled, “Well, have it your way.” He turned to Autumnus. “But you know that’s smart; you’re exactly right. Why fiddle around with some little game when we can make some bigger cash?” He looked around the table now. “The way I figure it—an I think Autumnus here is way ahead of me—is that people pay to solve problems…right?” Lou held out his hands in a grandiose gesture and was met with silence. He continued anyway. “So…it figures that the bigger the problem, the bigger the cash. Simple math.”
Hafoc stuffed bacon in his mouth. “Tho, wath the bigger problem?”
Lou smiled. Wise question, my friend! The problem that merchants will pay the most to solve is if the boars are running rampant though the streets of the business district.”
“Ah.” Hafoc nodded. “I see.”
“I don’t,” Autumnus said. “I thought they’re only in the woods, not in the city.”
Lou continued. “Well, they aren’t. Not just yet.” He winked. “But with a little encouragement, something like that could happen. They’re just dumb animals, you know.”
Tine stood up, hair bristling. “No! We are not framing any animals for a crime.”
Autumnus tilted his head, and looked surprised by her outburst. “Hm. I don’t know if I would precisely call it framing—” He faltered as Tine glared at him. “I mean, I don’t want to do it. Absolutely not! I only meant…”
Hafoc cut in. “Too much drama for me. Can’t we just deal with ‘em in the woods?”
Lou looked disappointed and sighed. "Fine. We'll do it the standard way. I guess. Annie or I can show you around to the nearby merchants, right, Annie?" Lou rapped on the table where Annie had laid her head.
She jolted awake. "Whazzat?" She realized everyone was watching her and straightened up, lifted an arm as if to cheer, yelled, "Damn straight!" and pounded her first on the table, knocking over some bacon. Tine figured she actually had no idea what she'd just agreed to.
Lou continued on, "Ok, so there's a baker, a butcher and a green grocer I think we can hit up. Decide who wants to go where with whom." With that, he grabbed a handful of bacon and the nearest ale within reach and got up to go. “I’ll be around when you’re ready,” he said, as he blew a kiss to a passing barmaid.
As he walked away from the table, Kylia spotted something hanging out of his pocket. “You!” She growled. “That’s from my pack!” She stood up and hurled her breakfast knife like a dagger at his head.
“Give me back my underwear!”
Lou waved cheerfully with bacon in hand and cried, “I’ll give them back; It’s just a sweet, salty remembrance of you until I return!” before he dashed out of the tavern door.
“Augh. I’m too tired for this.” Kylia let her head thunk down on the table. “Forget the boars.” She covered her head with her hands and hid her face with her hair. “Do you think the merchants will pay me to kill him?”
Hafoc snorted, and jangled the coins in his pocket. "I don'na know. But I might..."
Tine arched her back a little reflexively and held on to her backpack straps. She was pretty sure he was serious about that. Hafoc smiled at her, with a greasy mouth full of bacon, but his eyes were cold and she noticed his gaze wandered to her pack. Her tail flicked. The sooner they parted ways with that human, the better. Or I think we'll all regret it. Anyone who's still alive, that is.