Runaway [Rilam]

[Wild]

It was a cold and dark night in the worst area of Zantaric. The rain was pouring in the filth-ridden streets and alleys, and even the prostitutes seemed to prefer staying indoors on a night like this.

On one of the small rundown inns in the area the hard workers of Zantaric gathered at the bar, ordering their cheap beer and sat down by the worn tables at the equally worn chairs.

The barkeeper, old McNugget, stood at the bar, keeping a sharp eye on sticky-fingered clients as he poured beer to everyone willing to pay. A few prostitutes stood by the bar, just as worn as the rest of the furniture, and posed inviting to anyone willing - or foolish - to buy their services. A few of them already showed signs of having shameful diseases....

By the oven in the kitchen stood Mrs. McNugget, the innkeeper's wife, and cooked tonight's meal to paying customers. She was also the one in charge of making sure the rooms that could be rented on the second floor were clean.

There was a roaring sound of thunder outside, and a lightening flashed over the sky and threw a cobolt-blue light inside the bar room. It was at this moment the door opened, and a cloak-shaped figure stepped inside. After removing the cloak and shaking off the water, the figure hung the cloak on the hanger near the door and moved into the room.

As she stepped into the light, it was easier to see her. She was a slender elf with long, dark hair, fair skin and large, black eyes surrounded by long, dark eyelashes. She was dressed in a white shirt, black corset and a long dark skirt.

The prostitutes at the counter narrowed their eyes when they saw her, clearly thinking she was another prostitute planning to steal their clients. But the young woman did not seem to notice them as she moved towards the fireplace. She only had eyes for the fire, and the possibility to warm up after running through the streets.

[Rilam]

Among the gaggle of men seated at the bar was a auburn haired elf with deep blue eyes.  Unlike the rest of the males, he did not have his eye on the prostitutes but the meager plate of bread and meat in front of him.  He draped his elbows on the counter beside his torso, crouched so low over his plate that he barely had to tip his fingers up to place the food in his mouth.  As the rough texture entered his throat, he coughed and reached for his ale, never straightening his stance.  The familiar feeling of alcohol washed over his insides, a small shudder appearing on his face to indicate his tolerance for the low-class taste.

Nearby, a raven-haired woman turned in his direction.  She was laughing with another man, clearly glad that she had the chance to bed him for the night, and it seemed like she was eager to make a double sale.  Rilam didn't notice her until her hand came into his view, caressing the side of the mug he had just set down.  He did not speak as he felt her body rub against his shoulder, the smell of heavy perfume filling his nostrils. 

"Look at you all alone," she cooed.  "Shame to waste such delicious lips on this putrid food.  Perhaps you would like to taste something sweeter . . . more fresh."

Rilam finished chewing his bread and cocked his head to the left, trying to focus again on his drink.  The woman's fingers were still there, callused and clearly unwashed.  He wondered how many had come before him, how many she had tried to entice with similar techniques.

"Shy one ain't you," the woman continued.  "Perhaps you have never had the experience of a woman before . . ."  He could feel her front now on his shoulder, her other hand moving over his back and towards his neck.  "If you were to take me, I could give you all the things you never had.  Nice food, warm company, even replace this pitiful scarf you have on . . ."

Her fingers had barely tugged on the red fabric when Rilam's hand was around her wrist.  There was a clatter on the other side of the counter as his plate took flight, the brown lake of ale growing on the wood next to the woman's shaking hand.  He could see (through alcohol-blurred vision) the look of surprise on her face as he looked at her full on. The surprise at being touched but also the face that was staring back at her.  He had seen such looks many times before, knew exactly what was going through her mind: What happened to his eye?  How did he get those scars?  Who is this man?

"Never," he whispered, his lips trembling and pale.  "Never . . ."

The man that had been with the woman first, a tall stranger in dark clothes, looked at the pair.  Whether it was out of fear for the woman's safety or anger at being left for another man, Rilam saw the man's calculating glance.  There were the early signals of a fight - tense eyes, pursed lips and hand disappearing into the darkness of his cloak.  Any moment now the first strike would take place.

BOOM!!! 

The tavern door burst open and a cloaked stranger entered the building.  Rilam was glad for the distraction and quickly slipped from his stool.  With trained steps, he slid into the darkness of the corner.  Normally he would have taken this chance to leave the room, escape town, but this strange girl caught his attention.  He took in her features, cataloging her slim build and innocent dress.  While he rarely concerned himself with the affairs of others, he watched as she approached the fireside, wondering what would happen next.

[Wild]

Wild stood alone by the fireplace, trembling with cold after the run through the horrible weather outside. Her hands were lifted towards the fireplace, in a feeble attempt to regain some of her body heat.

The raven-haired woman grinned when her customer whispered something in her ear, nodding towards the young elf girl. "Sure sweetie! I won't mind the company if it means you pay double price," she laughed, her breath stinking with cheap alcohol.

The man grinned and placed a hand on her round buttocks before he moved over to the young elf girl and grinned towards her with rotten teeth. "Well, well, well, look what we got here..." he grinned, trying to place a filthy arm around her.

The she elf tore away from his grip, her dark eyes sparkling with anger. "Keep those filthy hands away from me," she hissed in a dangerously quiet tone. "Or I will tell my husband about you..."

It was a lie of course. Wild was only 16 years old and had just escaped from the worst orphanage of Zantaric. She did not have a boyfriend yet - much less a husband.

Unfortunately for her the ravenhaired prostitute seemed to have noticed the lie. "Ahahahah!" she laughed hoarsely. "Listen to her - she's just a baby. She doesn't have a husband yet...." She turned towards her client. "You'll be able to have lamb tonight, love. Virgin lamb!"

The she elf backed away from the man, slapping his hand when he tried to tear open her dress. "Stay away from me," she shouted. "I do have a husband... I was supposed to meet him here - in this pub!"

[Rilam]

Watching from the darkness, Rilam was glad when the raven-haired prostitute turned her attention back to her first catch.  Leaning against the wall, the elf could feel the ale taking affect, causing his wits to weaken. No, not the time for a fight, he thought to himself. 

Even so, he could not take his attention off the elf girl by the fire.  His breath caught when he looked at her, noticing how innocent she looked in this rugged atmosphere.  Clearly she was not common in the tavern scene, probably a wealthy traveler passing in to get out the storm.  While he had always kept to a code of self-protection, he knew this girl would be in trouble if she stayed here alone.

Trouble, it seemed, was already present in the form of the dark stranger and the raven-haired wench he had just tangled with.  Rilam could see them approaching the girl, their shadows falling over her white gown and pale skin.  The crackle of the firelight only highlighted the contrast of this situation - the innocent and the dangerous.  Others in the room turned to glance, perhaps finding joy in the girl's predicament.  Perhaps they thought she was getting what was coming to her, walking into this place unattended and fresh-faced.

There was a shout and Rilam saw the man reaching for the elf girl's dress.  Whether it was his half-drunk stupor or blind rage, the elf did not remember making his next move.  When he blinked again, he was standing behind the man, lodging an arrow tip against his side and a dagger against his throat.  His hair glowed in the firelight, the man's height blocking the lower half of his face.  His voice was muffled as he spoke into the man's shoulder, eyes watching the two women.  From his position, they could see his eyes, one squinted and deep blue, the other nearly grey and hidden underneath a patchwork of gnarled scars. 

"I am no blood drinker," he said hoarsely, his throat still agitated from ale, "but I can make you bleed for this virgin lamb.  What is your choice?"

[Wild]

Wild was struggling to keep the stinking man away from her, and the other men at the bar seemed to be aroused by what they saw of her struggling. She knew she was in trouble now, and she was scared. But she knew that she couldn't give her purity to this savaged... brute.

She shuddered in fear when she felt the man's stinky breath against his skin, crying out in despair and struggling when he attempted to tear up her dress in the front. A well placed kick towards his shin bought her a few more minutes to keep him at bay - but for how long would it last? She knew it was only a question of time before the rape was a fact....

It was then a miracle happened - a tall, brown-haired elf stood behind the man, lodging an arrow tip against his side and a dagger against his throat. The other man struggled to break free, but it seemed like the elf was stronger than him.

The elf girl watched the man who had saved her. His age was hard to decide from his looks alone. He had long hair, and one of his eyes seemed damaged. He had scars in his face, showing that he had a hard life. But Wild was grateful he at least had been gentle enough to save her from this brute.

The man struggled in the arms of the elf, choking from the pressure of the dagger. "Please... don't," he gasped. "She's not worth it... she's just a whore...."

[Rilam]

Pinning the stranger to his chest, Rilam watched the two girls in the firelight.  The contrast could have been no greater, the whore and the virgin.  Yet both were astonished by his threats on the tall stranger.  The raven-haired woman was clutching her face in terror, though Rilam was sure it was all an act.  Knowing her kind, she would have slit his throat once she was done with him in her room.  Perhaps I should save her the trouble . . .

Inching the dagger blade closer to the man's skin, he could feel the tautness of his skin, the final barrier from the pool of blood pulsing underneath.  The man's pleads of mercy were blurred by the affects of the ale.  Rilam could feel his anger taking over reason, the warning that he would soon loose all control.  The final word the man spoke, calling the elf-girl a whore, caused his blue eyes to flash with anger. 

"I am sure that no real whore would have refused your coin," he breathed.  "Take your earlier catch and be gone.  I do not want to make the barkeeper's wife clean blood from this floor!" 

Drawing back his dagger, he allowed the man a moment to realize his freedom before kicking him in the back.  The stranger tumbled forward, crashing into the raven-haired wench and knocking into a nearby table.  There were shouts from surprised barmaids and amused laughter from the drunk patrons.  Rilam stood there in the firelight, swaying a little on his weak legs.  He grimaced, the light too much for his damaged eye.  Only glancing to see that the elf-girl was alright, he sheathed his dagger and stumbled towards the entry way.

[Wild]

Wild was watching as the strong elf pinned the drunk man to his chest. While the prostitute clutched her face in terror and feared for the lost income of her customer, Wild was more worried that the drunkard might play a dirty trick and hurt his attacker. But she had seen the arrow edge kept against the man's side, and knew he would be a fool to try anything.

She blushed when she was called a whore, cringing by the foul accusation flung in her direction, and she was afraid that the others at this bar may hear the words and believe them to be true. She did not have much in this world, but she still had her purity, and she had decided to stay pure until the day of her marriage - if that day should ever come. She had promised her parents that much, the few times she allowed herself to think of them. She dared not think of her happy childhood often anymore - as the lost years always made her cry.

She was relieved that at least the elf did not seem to believe she was a whore, and she sent him a grateful look when he kicked the other man to the ground. Her eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth when the raven-haired wench fell with him to the ground and they both disappeared under the table.

But she did not stay long to watch what would happen next. Her unknown savior stood in the lamplight, swaying a little, before he grimaced and stumbled towards the entry way. Unwilling to be left alone with this crowd, she followed him towards the entry way.

"Wait, please," she said as she followed him. "I..."

She lowered her face and blushed. She did not even know this man. Did she know what she was doing? He could be dangerous. But he had saved her from the drunkard, and thus proved that he had a heart under his rugged appearance.

The elf girl gathered all her courage and took a deep breath before she spoke.

"I didn't get the chance to thank you..." she said, blushing and hoping he didn't think her too forward. "I wish to do something for you in return... Can I offer you a meal, and perhaps a room for tonight, if you don't have anywhere to stay?"

[Rilam]

Making his way to the doorway, Rilam heard the girl call after him.  He stopped at the corner of the tall table, wondering what this precious young thing wanted to say.  While he couldn't see her face, he could tell from her tone that she had never been in a situation like this before.  When she offered him a meal or a room, a smile crossed his lips and he turned towards her.

"I doubt you have the coin to give me a proper meal or drink," he laughed.  Looking her over again, he smiled softly.  Stepping closer so that she could smell the ale on his breath, Rilam lowered his voice.  "Do you think it wise to offer a room to a man who just saved you from that?" he added, gesturing to the groans of the two figures crawling from the floor.  "What makes you think that I wouldn't do the same to you if we were alone?  I'm no knight in shining armor, miss, and this place is not for you.  My advice, take the coin you have and hire a guard.  Better yet, hire a horse and get out of this gods-forsaken town."

[Wild]

The elf girl smiled sweetly when the man laughed at the idea that she could have coin to give him a proper meal or drink. Without hesitation she brought a well-specked purse of coins from her belongings and flashed it to him. She could smell the ale of his breath when he stepped closer, but she stayed her ground. It was not the first time she had encountered men with bad breath - and she found Master's breath a bit worse, since he also was stinking from rotten teeth in addition to alcohol.

"I am quite sure that the contents of this purse can buy us both meals and drinks for a long time," she said calmly. "The man you just sent under the table pays. I made sure to snatch his purse when he flew through the air..."

She shook her head when he spoke of why she thought he wouldn't rape her when they were alone. "The raven-haired woman seemed a bit miffed with you when I came in," she said. "So I assume she has offered you her services and you rejected her. Beside, you seem to have a heart under that rugged appearance, and for that I thank you."

She listened when he suggested that she should take the coin she had and hire a guard, or hire a horse to get away.

"I can't hire a horse," she sighed. "The local stables are owned by one of Master's henchmen.... Or rather, my former Master. I ran away...."

As she adjusted her clothing, her sleeve slid up a little, revealing a black bruise on her arm. It was clear that someone stronger than her had grabbed her arm and shook her violently.

"As for a guard, I don't know anyone I could ask... Unless you are interested in a job..."

[Rilam]

Rilam's laughter cut off when he felt the weight of the coin purse she drew out.  It was more than enough for several nights and other luxuries!  It was also an enticing package for the many thieves in this town.  His fingers itched to snatch it away, to hide it, but he composed himself.

"It appears I was mistaken," he said with a less-than-graceful bow.  "I suggest you put that somewhere deep in your corset before slippery fingers take it from you."

He smiled when she explained the purse's origins, amused that she had the sense to take it from the couple that had assaulted her. "Not as innocent as I thought," he noted.  "You better hope that he doesn't take it back from your hide, or worse."

The elf's blue eyes darkened to near-black when the elf-girl pointed out that the whore that offered her services to him earlier.  "I do not reject the services of all women," he answered, "but she had the poor sense to insult me.  Cheap or no, I do have standards in the company I keep in my bed.  Besides, I fear to think what illness she would have given me if given the chance."

When she pointed out his kind act, he scoffed at her.  "Do not take my actions as anything more than revenge on that harlot," he said bitterly.  "What heart I possessed was lost long ago and I only think of survival now.  That is the way of this retched world."

Hearing that the girl was a servant of the stable owner, Rilam became curious.  While he was a traveler, he had enough connections in this town to know the ones in charge.  "You served that filth?" he said softly, noticing the black marks on her skin.  Now that he was aware of her past, he noticed other features of her body that lent themselves to living in the slums - pale skin, shifting eyes, gaunt face.  Features that would have been seen as beauty on other girls, only showed pain on this one. 

Rilam was about to answer her offer of a job when he noticed the tall man getting up from the floor.  "We can discuss that later," he told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind him.  "For now let us get out of this tavern alive."

[Wild]

Wild grinned when she saw the elf's face expression as she showed him the coin purse. She knew from the weight that it was plenty to cover her costs for several nights. Besides this purse she had also hidden resources, as she had made sure to empty her former Master's secret hiding place before escaping from the orphanage.

"I have hidden resources," she promised as she hit the purse somewhere deep in her corset. "Slippery fingers will regret if they find their way to my resources, as I will cut them off with my dagger..."

She was glad that he did not scold her from stealing from the couple that had assaulted her. She looked forward to see how long the two of them would be a couple when the raven-haired woman found out that her customer did not have a single coin to his name anymore. "Even innocent girls may have hidden talents," she replied quickly when he said she was not as innocent as he thought. "I lied about having a husband back at the bar - it would have been much worse if I had admitted to being a virgin."

She noticed his eyes darken to nearly black as he spoke of the raven-haired woman and how she insulted him. "That was not a smart thing to do," she replied. "But I noticed you did not stare at any other of the women at the bar either... My guess is that you are either married or you have a girlfriend somewhere, and you do not wish to hurt her by being unfaithful... As for the woman who hit on you... They talk about her at the orphanage. We call her Syphilis Sue..."

She smiled when he spoke of his actions as revenge on that harlot, and shaking her head when he spoke of his heart being lost a long time ago. "I think it is more to this story than what meets the eye," she said quietly. "I hear a hurt undertone in your eyes... To me you seem like a diamond in the rough... You only need a little polish, and then you will sparkle and shine again. It would be fun to help you through the rough - just to see what is hidden under the surface..."

She laughed and shook her head when he spoke of her as a servant of the stable owner. "Oh good heavens no," she replied. "The stable owner has a boss, Professor Frank N. Stein - who has established a rundown orphanage here in Zantaric. On the surface a humble cause, right? To take care of the children of the poor and help them getting proper homes. What is not known to the common people is that he has a secret laboratory in the basement - and that he is experimenting on children and young women there.... I have been his prisoner since I was 5 years old, and he forced me to steal for him."

She lowered her eyes, rubbing the bruises on her arms when she continued. "I ran away when I heard him talking to Igor about putting me in those contraptions, making me his sex slave or something. Luckily I managed to steal Igor's lockpicks and escape before they got that far..."

She waited for his answer about the job offer when he suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. When he spoke of getting out of the tavern alive, she followed him without question, snagging her cloak from the hanger before they both left the tavern.

"Where should we go?" she asked. "There's a relatively nice hotel a few blocks away from here, and they also have a restaurant. The place is not very large, but it is clean."

[Rilam]

Rilam watched as the girl put away her coin purse, the ghost of it's weight still teasing his palm.  Living on the road as he had for so many years, the smallest temptation of wealth was enough to make him shudder.  Still the confidence that the girl spoke with, mentioning her hidden resources, made him too curious to act rashly.  This was different from the meek girl he had seen enter the tavern and approach the fire.  Perhaps that was an act to blend in?  Still, he could see there was more to this stranger than he originally thought. 

When she confessed to lying about a husband, the elf snorted, eyes shinning with mirth.  "The truth was clear a mile away," he told her.  "The innocence of an unmarried woman is something men are trained to pick up on and madams desire.  I would not speak of your innocence with such pride around here.  You may find yourself with more visitors tonight than you want."

The elf's face tightened when the girl assumed about his romantic status, brushing his hand across the tattered remains of his scarf.  The faded memories crept from the darkness of his mind, forced back by years of drink and ill-choices.  Rather than becoming sad, the elf felt his muscles tense in anger.  "I do not believe I asked to be analyzed by a child in a bar," he growled.  "My history is my own and I did not inquire into yours!  Leave those thoughts in your privileged daydreams and let the miserable wallow in their misery." 

Turning to the counter, he gestured for the barkeeper's attention and dropped a coin on the table.  Mr. McNugget, who had been watching the scene with apprehension, shook his head before turning to the ale barrels.  Rilam knew that he had consumed enough drink to black out this conversation, yet he wanted something in his hands to hide the shaking.  His family was a darkest stain on his already miserable life. 

The girl's explanation of the orphanage life soothed his anger a little, reminding him that he was not the lowest man in the world.  He noticed how the girl's voice got softer, drawing his attention back to her.  While he wanted to laugh at her plight (the best way he knew to perk himself up in his low times) the way she held her slender hand over her bruises, the downcast look of her eyes -- he felt the urge to pull her into his arms. 

The noise of the mug slamming down on the counter broke his thought and he glanced at McNugget muttering as he walked away.  The sound snapped him back to reality, his lonely reality.  Do not get yourself invested, he swore.  Think of you and you alone - that is how you have survived this long.  You don't want another heartache like Caitlyn . . .

Rushing for the door, Rilam let out a curse as they stepped back into the rainstorm.  Not a night to be caught outside, he reasoned.  Hearing the elf-girl's voice behind him, he looked at her in surprise.  "You don't know who you are travelling with, do you?" he laughed before spitting onto the ground nearby.  "A hotel would take one look at me and slam the door.  No, a bed of hay in the stables is more my style.  But . . . if your buying," he added with a shrug.  "Lead the way."   

[Wild]

Wild noticed the male elf watching as she put away the coin purse. She could tell from his gaze that he wished for some wealth of his own, and she silently wondered what had happened in his life that would land him in a place like this. Zantaric was so far away from the wonderful realms of the elves that she once had known.

She grinned when he did not seem angered about her lying about a husband, and that he even had known it was a lie when she first spoke. She had not been aware that men were trained to pick up the innocence of an unmarried woman. She shuddered when he warned her of speaking of her innocence, taking a step closer to him as to seek his protection from the potential visitors. He had already protected her once, so she knew he could fight.   

"I promised my parents when they died that I will stay a virgin until the day I marry," she said. "I intend to keep that promise - since my purity is all I have in this world... The rest of my resources I have gained with cunning and stealth."

The elf girl looked up at the man in front of her when she saw his face tighten at her words of his romantic status. She saw his hand brushing across the tattered remains of his scarf. Perhaps that scarf had been made by someone dear to him? His anger only made her sure she had been correct in her assumptions, and that this someone was now probably dead since he was here alone.

"I did not mean to offend you," she said softly. "I'm sorry if I did... But why do you think my daydreams are so privileged? I have to run away from a man whose intellect has earned him a worldwide reputation. I can't wallow in ale to drown my sorrows - because the moment I allow my wits to grow dull he will catch me and bring me back..."

Watching the man as he turned towards the counter she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. "Besides, Mr. McNugget salts his beer to make the customers drink more..."

She could see his hands shaking as he held onto his keg of beer, and she wondered what could have happened to his woman. She was certain that a man like him had to have a woman somewhere - dead or alive - and that it was the loss of said woman that had made him drink like this. She had seen many men ruining their lives with alcohol after losing someone dear to them. Some of these men had once been boys at the orphanage where she grew up...

Unaware that he was watching her, she pulled up her other sleeve too. Her other arm had similar bruises like the first arm, indicating that she was regularly held by her arms and shook violently by someone much larger than her - and also much stronger. The bruises were almost black in color from the hard grip she had been locked in.

As the fat man stood up and got back on his feet, Wild hurried outside into the rainstorm. At the moment she preferred this storm before the inn she just had left behind. She heard the elf speaking to her in the rain, asking if she knew who she was traveling with.

"No," she admitted. "We never had time to introduce ourselves back in there. My name is Wild, and I am a trained thief and catburglar. I just escaped the worst orphanage in all of Zantaric. And who may you be?"

She started leading the way towards the tiny hotel she knew about. It was not as grand as many of the other hotels in nicer areas, but she knew the keeper here - had been able to save him from some pickpockets in the past - and thus earned his gratitude.

Making her way inside the hotel, she nodded to the hotel owner. "Good evening," she said. "I hope you are able to grant me a couple of rooms for the night? I can pay..."

"For you? Anything," the hotel owner, an elderly man with a kind face, replied. "You can stay in room number 3 and 4. Perhaps you would also want a hot meal and something to drink?"

Wild looked over at the male elf, back to the hotel owner and nodded. "I think he needs something to get warm by after he saved me from an old pig further down the street," she nodded. "Let him have what he asks for. I will pay."

[Rilam]

Rilam lowered his gaze when the girl mentioned her promise to her parents.  While a noble goal, it was a difficult thing to achieve in an area like this.  "That was the same thing many of these girls promised, I am sure," he said, motioning to the group of women sauntering around the room in search of their next client.  "Life is not as easy as that -- not here anyway.  If you have hope of keeping that wish, I suggest you leave Zantaric as soon as you can."

The elf glanced at the girl as she apologized for offending him, his eyes showing that there would be no forgiveness.  "You are privileged to have dreams at all.  In my world, there are only nightmares and regrets."   

He heard the girl mutter about the salt in the drinks and smirked.  "Perhaps some of us prefer it that way," he answered, also loud enough for her to hear.

Stepping out into the cold, Rilam forced himself not to smirk as she introduced herself.  Great, she wants to know even MORE about me, he grumbled inside.  Soon she'll want me to help her pick out clothes and doll me up like a play thing!  But she is offering a room for the night and she isn't bad to look at . . .

"Rilam," he told her.  "Frequenter of pubs and all around annoyance.  That's all you need to know."

Walking up the road to the inn, the elf made careful observations of his surroundings.  He had learned from an early age that in order to survive, you had to have an escape route.  There were many in this part of Zantaric but not all were reliable at all times.  If his interactions at the inn were an indication, he would have to stay on his guard tonight.

He listened as Wild spoke with the elderly man, his body language showing that he wasn't enthused to be there.  While he had lived in moderately good conditions in his youth, it had been so long since he had seen a place like this.  The furnishings were clean and the walls were not stained.  Meanwhile, he looked like the last person that would fit in here.

Once the transaction was done, Rilam walked up the counter.  "Do you have a place to bath and some items to shave with?  Also, make sure to knock before entering my room.  Would hate to stick you like a pincushion to the floor."

[Wild]

Wild nodded when Rilam spoke of the group of women sauntering around the room in search of their next client. She wondered sadly how many of these girls who had given their parents the same promise she had - and why they had not left to build themselves new lives elsewhere. Perhaps they didn't have a choice? Wild felt sorry for them, and was even more determined that she would not end up as a prostitute like them.

"I am not planning on staying here," she replied determined. "Thirteen years ago my village was attacked by enemy troops. I was the daughter of the village chieftain. I need to go home and see if there are any survivors left at home. If there is, I need to give them a new start in life - trying to rebuild my village and make a home for them."

She did not speak of what she would do with her life if she only found ruins and no survivors. For thirteen years she had survived her torment just by the hope that her village still existed, and that her people only needed for her to return so they could raise against the tyrants and claim their village back.

Wild looked over at the man when he spoke of his world - where only nightmares and regrets existed. "It doesn't need to be that way," she told him, sparkling with youthful optimism. "Problems are meant to be solved and sorted out, and obstacles are meant to be defeated! My father always told me that for every problem made in this world, there is also a solution. You just need to keep your wits about you to see it."
   
She looked up at him without understanding when he spoke of preferring salt in his drinks. "Why?" she asked. "Why would anyone drink anything that smells so horrible and which clearly has such a bad effect on them?"

Wild looked up at the man when he introduced himself. "Rilam," she repeated. "Nice name. Though, why do you see yourself as annoyance? I was glad to see you here when the crowd attacked me... You must not be so hard on yourself... There's more to life than what you see..."

As she made her way to the tiny hotel she kept close watch, knowing that her former Master had probably found out by now that she had escaped from the orphanage. She looked out for the sly little weasel Igor, Master's assistant and even more she was on guard for Master himself. Professor Frank N. Stein was known as a hard and unforgiving man when his wrath had been awakened, and more than one orphan had perished after a meeting with his unforgiving whip. Wild herself carried numerous scars on her back after Master's abuse.

The elderly man smiled friendly towards Rilam and Wild when they entered his hotel room. He had not expected any visitors on a night like this - and now he got two customers at once.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said kindly and bowed politely. "My name is Mr. Potts, and I am the hotel owner of this little place. If there is anything you wish for, please let me know. Your wish is my command..."

Mr. Potts smiled gently when Rilam asked if he had a place to bath and some items to shave with. "Of course, my good Sir," he replied kindly. "The bathing room is down the hall, first door to the right. I can draw a bath for you right away, and also help you with the shaving articles. Perhaps you'd like a change of clothes as well? Our staff can clean your clothes if you want to. We have an own washing room in the basement, so our women doesn't have to go to the river..."

[Rilam]

The information about Wild's village touched Rilam's heart.  Cupping his mug, he took a long, slow draught of ale, his mind churning up memories from the past.  He had lost all his loved ones to war and death, his old home probably little more than smoldering ash.  To think of that devastation across an entire village?!  His drink had more sting than usual and he winced, setting the cup down with a groan.

"And if there is nothing left?" he asked, thinking of the scenario that the girl passed over.  "What will you do then?  You can't be a leader of ash piles."

The girl's optimism troubled Rilam.  He didn't know whether to laugh at her or pity her.  After all you have claimed to been through, you still think there is hope in this world, he wondered.  Shaking his head, he touched the red scarf around his neck.  "I do not think there is a way to bring back the dead," he pointed out.  "So no, not all problems have a solution."

When asked about the allure of ale, Rilam smiled.  "There are some in this world that would like to destroy their past, forget their sorrows and tangle with the demons in their minds.  Ale is a good way to start that process.  Want a taste?" he added, shoving the mug in her direction, the contents jostling with excitement.

"You were at the hands of two monsters about to rip you to shreds," he pointed out.  "You would have been happy to see the God of Death himself!  Don't make me out to be the hero we both know I'm not."

Once his requests had been taken care of, Rilam moved down the hall to his room.  He didn't wait to see if Wild was following, needing a rest after the walk in the storm.  The room was modesty decorated, but it was a palace compared to the rock caves he typically slept in.  The addition of a fire alone made this the best place he had stayed in for several months.

Running his fingers along the top cover of the bed, the elf removed his weapons and cloak.  Draping the cloak along the chair in front of the fire, he rolled his shoulders to ease his tense muscles.  Running his hands down his shoulders, he felt the soft material of his scarf.  With a feather-light tug, he pulled the clothing off his body, cradling it in his hands like a newborn.  The years had not been kind to this part of his uniform, tears from many battles dotted it's length.  Despite the mistreatment, the weave had held firm.  Rilam sometimes wondered if it was magic that kept it together, the essence of his wife that stayed with him.  Closing his eyes, he brought the material up to his face and breathed in it's musky scent.  There were traces of his wife's scent, fighting the overlying odors. 

Rilam could feel his eyes misting and carefully laid the scarf under his pillow.  Everything he owned combined could not match it's worth to him, not even his own strength.  If the innkeeper were to find it and harm it, oh, there would be blood to wash from the floor.  Satisfied that it was safe, he walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathing area.  Despite leaving his sword and bow in the room, he still had a dagger in his  trousers just in case.   

[Wild]

Wild saw how Rilam cupped his mugs upon hearing her story. The way he clung to the mug told her that he had experienced painful losses himself and knew the feeling all too well. The fact that he was alone here instead of surrounded by a wife and children only confirmed the impression she had of him.

A pained expression washed over her face for a brief moment when Rilam asked her what she would do if there was nothing left of her village but a pile of ash. For all the years she had been a prisoner of the orphanage owner she had tried to keep her hopes alive, constantly telling herself that at least someone had escaped the enemy attacks - someone were waiting for her return back in Mir. The thought of finding nothing at home, not a living soul, hurt her - and she winced in pain by the possibility.

"Well," she said after taking a deep breath to calm herself. "If I don't find any survivors at home I will have to start a new life somewhere else. I want to travel and see the world, and perhaps one day find a nice husband and settle down - have a family of my own. I promised my parents that I would not let our family line die out with me..."

Looking at the red scarf Rilam touched with so much care, Wild nodded in deep thought when he said there was no way to bring back the dead.

"No, the dead can't be brought back," she replied. "But they will somehow live on in the hearts of those still alive who remember them with love in their hearts. I think it is a nice way of immortality, don't you think? One day when I grow old and die, I hope my children will remember me with love and tell their children stories about me..."

She nodded towards the scarf he was touching with a friendly face expression. "It is a beautiful scarf you have there," she said. "Someone has put great love and care into creating it... I notice you touch it often. It was made by someone dear to you?"

The she elf listened when Rilam spoke of destroying their past, forgetting their sorrows and tangle with the demons in their mind by drowning their problems in ale. She smiled and shook her head when he offered her a taste of the ale. "Thank you, but no thank you," she replied friendly. "I do not believe the problems will disappear by drinking your wits away. Your capability to think clearly will vanish when the effects of the alcohol sets in. My problem is that I am on the run from one of the most brilliant minds in all of Zantaric, and if I get off my guard I will be dragged back into that hellhole before I know it."

Sniffing the mug she shuddered from head to toe before backing away. "It smells like someone died in there a couple years ago and rottened up inside the ale barrel," she shuddered. "How can you even drink something like this? If you absolutely must drink, you should have tasted the plum brandy we made at home in Mir. My dad said that brandy would grow hairs on your chest - so you can see why I stayed away from it.... Strangely enough I still remember how it was made though. I loved to watch when the adults at home prepared their foods and drinks, and I have a good memory for details."

She looked innocently up at Rilam when he tried to undermine his own role in saving her from the whore and the client at the inn who tried to rape her. "Without any  hesitation or question you stepped in to save a complete stranger," she replied gently. "That is heroic, whether you like it or not..."

Once the living arrangements had been taken care of, the innkeeper found the shaving things Rilam had asked for. He also brought a clean set of clothes, some towels and a huge bar of soap as he made his way towards Rilam's room.  He placed the things on a nearby table  before knocking on the door and calling out.

"It is only the hotel owner, Sir, delivering the shaving things you requested. I leave them here on the small table beside the entrance to your room, and you can pick them up when you are ready.... My wife says that the dinner will be ready in around a half hour. You can choose to eat in the dining hall or in your room.... My maid is asking if you have any laundry you need her to take care of."

Wild had moved directly to the bathroom when Rilam moved to her room, and she was already placed in one of the two bathtubs in the bathroom when Rilam entered. Her dress was nicely draped on a nearby chair, along with the towel she would use to dry herself off when she was clean.

Her eyes widened when she saw Rilam entering the room, and she made a quick check to see that the soap bubbles in her bathtub covered her modesty. She was also quick to hide most of her upper body in her long, dark hair.

"Oh," she said as she blushed deeply. "I.... I didn't expect to see you here..."

[Rilam]

Rilam could see the idea of finding her village uninhabited caused the elf pain.  He had not made the observation to be cruel, but the girl had to have a sense of reality.  According to her it had been at least a decade since she had seen her home, thus it was a very good possibility that she had nothing to return to.  She had to be prepared for that chance, hard as it was to accept.

He watched her carefully as she noticed his scarf, correctly matching it's sentiment to his past.  He hesitated to speak about it's maker, even the thought of her name making his heart ache.  "It was made by my wife before her death," he managed to get out, his voice quivering.  "This is the only piece I have of my old life, all that survived the cruelty of the world."  He glanced over at the pair that had assaulted the elf, thinking of how the whore's fingers had touched the sacred fabric.  She is lucky I didn't slit her throat right there, he thought bitterly.

Rilam chuckled at the girl's reaction the smell of ale.  Hearing that she could make brandy, the elf smiled.  "Perhaps I would be lucky enough to taste some," he said.  "I am sure that McNugget's would miss my coin, though," he added, glancing over at the innkeeper as he dried the glasses.

In the inn down the road, Rilam had just finished warming his hands by the fire when he heard the voice of the owner outside.  He waited for his footsteps to vanish before peeking out.  There was a clean tunic and trousers on the table, folded neatly.  Scooping these up, he set off for the bathing room.

The elf was glancing down as he entered the room, unaware that it was already inhabited.  There was a slosh of water and he saw Wild in the tub, her long hair covering her upper body and knees poking out of the suds.  He noticed her blush and the quiver in her voice as she greeted him.  While surprised by her presence, the elder man was not embarrassed by her naked form.  He had seen many women in different categories of dress in his life, though he had had a dry patch lately.

"Well, I assume you would want me to bath before eating," he replied, stepping over to the vacant tub.  He was careful to step on the farthest side, leaving the most room between himself and the elf girl.  "Surely your nose is not so jaded that you didn't notice my musk?  Or does that unwashed smell appeal to you?"

Using the wall as a support, he pushed off his boots and removed his socks.  He looked at the holes poking into the soles of the fabric, wishing he had picked up the skills to repair clothing.  Looks like I'll be needing a new pair, he sighed to himself, tucking them into his boots. 

Without missing a beat, he set his fingers on the hem of his trousers and tugged out his shirt.  The room disappeared for a few seconds as he pulled it over his face, noticing the elf girl's attention.  He paused, arms still over his head, shirt balled up in a heap in his right hand.

"Won't make you uncomfortable to see me like this, will it?" he asked.  Not like she is looking to fall in love with me or anything.  What could she find attractive about me?

His muscled had been toned from years of fighting, his torso trim and well muscled.  His shoulders were strong from carrying his own pack, often filled with weeks worth of provisions or the occasional treasure.  His skin showed the affects of poor hygiene, the top rough and patched with grim.  Scars shinned through, markings of battles and drunken fights.     

[Wild]

Deep inside Wild knew that the chances of finding survivors in her childhood home was rather small. In her nightmares she could still see the burning village huts, the cattle that were brutally slaughtered, and the screams of women being raped in front of their husbands and children.

She could hear the screams from the mothers as the enemy brutally murdered every child they saw. Only Wild had been able to escape this fate, thanks to her mother who had seen this scene in a vision before it happened and managed to send her child away. She had tried to warn the others in the village too, but for some reason Wild was the only child who was sent away.

She still remembered how her big brother Mist had escaped with her, and how he had hidden her in the underbrush and told her to wait when they ran into a band of orcs. She had been as quiet as she could, keeping her eyes closed as she waited. She could hear the sound of metal clashing against metal as he clashed his weapons against the weapons of the enemy. The battle had lasted for what Wild felt was forever. Then everything was quiet. When Wild finally dared to crawl out from under the underbrush she found her brother laying in a pool of his own blood, and he didn't answer when she tried to tug on his hand.

She remembered how she had ran towards the village, to get help from her mother and father, only to find their dead bodies in the burnt ashes of what had once been her childhood home. A bit away from their corpses she had also found the dead body of her baby brother. He had been cut in two halves by the enemy, who had amused themselves by playing ball with him before he died from the blood loss. Wild came too late to do anything for her family, but she had grabbed an old tome with magic writing from the secret hiding place, knowing it was sacred for her people. She stuffed the book in her belongings, and then she started running, as far away as she possibly could.

It was on this journey she met with the people who had taken her in and offered her bread and a place to sleep for the night. At first she thought they were nice, and she fell asleep after eating the bread they offered. When she woke up she was in the orphanage in Zantaric - locked in a room with several other orphans. The elderly couple had sold her for money. Wild had cried then. That was the last time she cried. Later she had forgotten how to cry, when she realized that her tears would not move the cruel man who called himself Master. But she never forgot to show compassion to those who could not defend themselves from Master like she could.
This compassion had also made her help the other orphans of the orphanage to escape when she made her own escape. She did not know if the others had manage to get away - she knew how sly and cunning Master's assistant Igor could be. Perhaps it was an idea to check back on the orphanage later, in case there were new prisoners there...

Her thoughts returned to the present when Rilam spoke of the tattered scarf around his neck. She was touched by how he still kept onto it, realizing how deep his love to his wife had been and how lost he felt without her. After all, she had felt the same loss when she on one day had lost her father, her mother and two brothers.

"I am sorry for your loss," she said quietly. "The beauty of the scarf shows me that your wife had a beautiful soul. I bet you miss her just as much as I miss my family... When I miss them too much and the loss is too painful, I use to comfort myself with the thought that our loved ones still are with us after their deaths. It's just that they are spirits so we can't see them anymore...My people, the Dark Elves, have a close relationship to their family spirits..."

Wild smiled when Rilam spoke of tasting the Mirion plum brandy one day. "If I can get hold of enough plums to make a bottle I could try," she said. "I would also need a few other ingredients, but I am sure we can get them from any village shop. Oh, and I would also need some kind of distillery to make it... Perhaps we can find one somewhere. At least I won't put salt in your drinks...."

Wild sank further down in the bathtub when the grown man entered the bathroom, looking like she tried to drown herself in the bathtub water. Even if she knew this was a public bathroom and every guest of the hotel had the right to use it, she was still not used to see naked men. Thus she was perhaps even more embarrassed by his naked form than he was by hers. She was grateful that he stepped on to the farthest side, laving the most room between them.

"It's a public bathroom," she replied, her voice sounding a bit gurgling from how far down in the water she was at the moment.  His comment about his unwashed smell appealing to her caused her to blush, and she tried to hide her blushing face in the suds of soap in the water. "You are free to have as many baths as you please..."

She tried to look away as best she could when he removed his clothes, even though she did noticed the holes in his socks. She wasn't exactly a seamstress type, but she had been able to patch up her own rags before they fell from her body. Hearing his sigh as he tucked his socks into his boots, she guessed what he was thinking.

"If I get hold hold of a ball of yarn and a solid needle, I could try patching them up for you..." she said as she kept her face turned away.

She made sure to look away when he pulled his shirt over his face, trying to hide the eventual embarrassment she felt behind her dark locks of hair. She heard him asking if it would make her uncomfortable to see him like this. "Not the least," she replied, trying to sound as normal as she could. "Like I said, it's a  public bath. Private bathrooms cost extra, and I thought we could spend those money on a meal after the bath instead. If you are hungry of course..."

Even if she tried not to stare at him, she couldn't help for catching a glimpse of his torso when she turned away after responding to his question. His torso was trim and well muscled and his shoulders were strong. Sure she also noticed the affects of poor hygiene and the rough surface, but she wondered what would happen if that surface one day was polished away. She did not expect that a man like him would fall in love with a mere slip of a girl like herself, but if he one day did find a woman to fall in love with, that woman would be very lucky.

[Rilam]

Rilam listened to the concern in the elf girl's voice as she spoke of his scarf.  It was rare to hear genuine emotion from others when they spoke to him.  With his gruff nature and scarred appearance, most treated the elven warrior with disdain and fear.  He often wondered what they were thinking as they passed him in the streets.  Perhaps they thought he had gotten what he deserved?

Learning what the Wild needed to make the brandy, Rilam felt more of a purpose to her tagging along.  The items were not hard to get, by purchase or stealing, but finding a safe place to distile the drink would be the challenge.  Most of the shady places he knew demanded some form of payment for help, whether through promises of the flesh or the sword.  He could imagine the den boss wanting the elf girl as payment, then where would he be.  No, they would have to find another way.

Rilam noticed how the girl sank into her bathwater, the sight of her wide eyes and hair floating on top of the water making him smile.  He recalled how the girl had proclaimed that she was a married woman back in the pub, though he now doubted that she had seen a naked man before. 

The elf smiled as she announced that the room was for all guests, though he could tell from the frequency of her blushing that she wished it otherwise.  He glanced up from his tattered sock when he heard her mention repairing them.  "I don't know if these are worth saving," he pointed out, sticking two fingers through the largest hole in the fabric and wiggling them about.  "May be easier to purchase a new pair.  But, if you want the challenge, have fun," he added with a shrug.

He was glad that she turned away as he undressed, aware that he's body was not in the most prestine condition.  Tossing his shirt over his boots, he quickly stripped out of his trousers and hopped into his tub.  With a sigh, he sunk into the warm liquid, the first of it's kind in a very long time.  Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the sensation of the water licking his skin, not wanting to move for fear that this would all be a dream.  He was in no rush to face the outside world.  Here, at least, he could live his dreams in peace.