Rain, rain soaked leather, and tea; the few words that could explain her predicament.
"Ugh," the red head groaned as she made her way down the cobblestone streets. "It just had to fuckin' rain before I got to the bloody the inn."
It had been threatening to rain for the past hour, and no matter how swiftly her legs were carrying her from the wooded trail and into the city, the clouds followed her, carrying in upon heavy winds from the North. She shivered, adjusted the weight of the clothe bag over her shoulder and brushed her wet, unruly hair out from her green eyes as she sighed again and squinted, trying to recall what street she was on so she could get to a damn tavern and warmed by a fire, and some drink.
That seemed to be what all of her day entailed on her long travels on the road. She wasn't famous for being a smuggler ( she had a pretty discrete business, despite her loud mouth...) So when it was offered for her to escort tea for some large sum of cash (and not a lot of tea at all, just a stupid bag full), well, she couldn't resist a little easy cash, especially if it meant she could stop at the local taverns along the way. She frequented quite a number in Uthlyn these days, having found easy money near the scholared types who didn't want to get their hands dirty (especially with all of the talk about mages and war and blah-de-blah). So she stayed near here, since the chaos hadn't really touched this city, (even if the threat and fear was there). Something about a new grand duke, the othe rbeing killed by a mage. But it was all politics and so long as it was lining her purse with coin, she didn't care much how things were molding about within her own country. So when she saw the familiar light of the tavern, her eyes lit up.
"Thank Angsar's ball sacks I'm on the right street." She rubbed at the rain that was pouring down upon her, tickling down her hair and nose, adjusted the bag of tea (which for all she knew, was getting ruined by the rain...) and stepped right on up tot he door, threw it open without a care and stepped on in.
The door slammed behind her, the clothe sack dropped to the ground carelessly like a sack of potatoes as Ellarrah took a empty bar stool at the other end of the bar.
"Hey there, Winston," she said, giving hte man a cheeky grin as she scooted forward on her bar stool. "Give me the tallest glass of your cheapest stuff, and keep it coming."
Winston only chuckled, seeming to already have her order in tow.
"You were gone all week. I thought you weren't coming back."
Ellarrah groaned and gave a shake of her head, the rain still dripping down constantly from her hair and pooling at the grounds around her, the waters even rivering down her body, hugging around her curves and her ample bossom that was nearly bursting out from her clothes.
"Well, I was contemplating about going to Reajh, but things are quieter here, that's for sure." She flipped her wet hair off from over her shoulder and took the offered mug of ale from the bar tend with a happy grin.
"Ah, you always know how to charm a girl, Winston," she said with a wink and leaned back in her stool, crossing one leg over the other as she down the drink in a few hefty gulps and ordered some more. Winston naturally obliged. He was an older man with a greying beard and a bald head, a single scar above his eye, and a few over his knuckles. He had been running this bar most of his life, having been lucky enough to acquire the coin and correct licenses to do so. And on this side of Uthlyn, business was booming.
"So any more word on these silly mage laws reaching here? I heard something's going on North, but I haven't really paid much attention to that," Ellarrah said, giving a scratch to her hair like a dog scratching at fleas. Her thick red hair was cumbersome and heavy from the rain, and as much as she'd like to ignore it, she was forced to collect it all in one gloved hand as she began to wring it out carelessly onto the tavern floor, the waters collecting into the pool that was already there at her feet.
"Can't say much has happened. Seems the whole city is holding it's breath. Waiting to see what will happen," Winston said with a shrug.
Ellarrah groaned. "Well, I tell ya, I just hope this gets resolved quickly. It's bad for any sort of business near the capital, I tell ya, and as much as I like it here, the town is too scholarly for me. Too many artsy fartsy people with froo-froo 'dos and books carried under their arms." She laughed a little, the noise a little rough in it's song. "I'll never understand those sorts. Give me a sword and the open road, that's the life for me." And she tipped her drink to Winston on that.
"So will ya be havin' any soup this evening?" he inquired.
Ellarrah sighed, drummed her fingernails at the edge of the table and shrugged.
"Sure, why the bloody hell not? A nice big, piping hot bowl ought to do." And she plopped a gold piece on the table, which Winston slipped away with a nod and disappeared to the other side to collect her food, which had been cooking over the hearth all night.
Shivering, Ellarrah took a look around the place. It seemed to be busy enough, probably due to the rain forcing people inside as a hand worked at brushing off the water collecting between her boobs. How irritating. And not seemign to care she was in public, she loosened the strings a little on her shirt, enough to let her cleavage not become so well 'pressed', so that hte waters tucked within could dribble out down her belly, before sinching the strings back together into a tighter knot with a groan. There felt to be water just about everywhere, and as hse turned about in her stool she called over to Winston, one arm leaning agaisnt the bar.
"Say, you got any rooms for the night?" When he nodded, her eyes lit up. "Give me one of them, too. It's been a long day and I ain't about to sleep on the streets in this sort of weather!"
