Common Text
Xanthean Text
Kashehino Text
Timestamp: Zi'da 39thXanthean Text
Kashehino Text
Qit's cloak was wrapped tight about her shoulders, keeping the biting winter winds out as best she could. This winter was harsh, and Qit had been too careless to make proper preparations. Much of that was due to constantly being injured, but really that was just an excuse she told herself. She'd not expected such a cold winter, too many years in the south and traveling through the hot lands. She'd spent much of the day roaming around Almund, trying to figure out how to find out more about this curse. But she'd not found anything. Just a bunch of grumpy sailors and annoyed dock workers.
The wind howled, and Qit pulled her cloak tighter, flinching at the pain of her cursed marks. She hated this. She liked cooler weather over the sweltering heat of Saun, but this, this was a bit much. She needed warmth. Just for a little while. She looked around her, not particularly familiar with her surrounded in Almund, but knew she was on the eastern side. She saw a pleasing blue sign above a doorway. It had some words scribbled on it, in the common language. She couldn't read it, but she at least could recognize Common from Xanthean. But she really liked the color. It reminded her of this one hunt her mum took her on, the sky was really blue that day, as they chased down a pack of wolves.
She missed her mum. She missed Desnind, and with a sour grin, she made her way toward the door, hoping there was some warmth inside. She pushed it open and was blasted by warmth and the busy noise of many conversations. She almost turned away, really not wanting to be around a bunch of strangers. But the heavy heat enveloped around her. And she couldn't say no.
So she pushed her way in.
Being so wrapped in a cloak, a very unimposing figure, she didn't attract many stares. A few glances before they got bored and returned to their own conversations. Qit scanned the room, seeing so many people, but more importantly a bunch of fires lit. The room was terribly full, and Qit was able to recognize it was a tavern. Her mother never frequented such places, calling them pointless distractions for fools, idiots, and a word that didn't translate well into common, but basically meant dead while alive.
But her papa loved taverns. He said they were the best way to get to know people, truly know them. She sighed. She missed him. He actually took her to a tavern once when she was but a wee sapling. She remembered the food being good, and her father knew every person in the place. He even sang songs and let her eat as much as she wanted. It was a great time. She searched around for an empty table, but on a cold night like this, the tavern drew many patrons. She moved over toward a fireplace as a whole group got up and left, after much hugging, laughing, and cheering. As soon as they were out of the table, Qit moved in and sat down at the now empty table.
It was the perfect spot, not too close to the fire as to be sweltering, but close enough to be cozy. There were many mugs and dirty plates and the like strewn over the table, but Qit didn't mind. A woman with sunkissed skin bounced her way over to Qit's table, "'ello sweetie. All by your lonesome?" The woman leaned over the table, deepening the already excessively ample cleavage she had, "Wha' can I get ya? The meat pie is goo' an' hot soon. One just for ya, if ya ask me. Pairs well wit' mead."
Qit stared blankly at the woman, "Um, uh..."
Dunha seemed to know Qit's story immediately, "Oh you've not been in a tavern in years! Poor thing. Trust me on this, meat pie and mead is wha' ya wan' to star'. Will warm you up so goo' ya'll think you were crawlin' into my bed." The woman gently set a hand on Qit's shoulder, "Wan' me to hang yar cloak love? I promise its safe 'ere. No one steals from Mad O'rourke's. They'd regret it far too quickly."
Qit just nodded, and let the woman take her cloak and disappear to get her order. Qit crossed her arms in front of her chest, propping up her chin, so as to not show off her curse marks. No one needed to see her oozing sores, and she feared it might get her kicked out, for being disgusting to those eating. The barmaid brought Qit a large mug of mead, "There ya go, sweetie. Pie will be out soon."
Qit nodded, and the buxom barmaid left to attend to other tables, after clearing away the old dishes. Qit was alone at a large table, and staring down at the stein of mead. Her papa hadn't let her drink when he took her to taverns, and somehow Qit'ria had never ended up in one before now. She picked up the mug and sipped at the golden liquid, finding it surprisingly sweet. She mmm'd and sipped down some more, enjoying the warm feeling it gave in her throat and belly. She drained half the mug quickly, and her eyes began to scan the tavern, taking in the surroundings. So many people, a few barmaids, and a busy kitchen. And Qit with a table by a warm fire, with good food one the way, all to herself. Maybe taverns weren't so bad.