Wrong Turn in Alvadas (Sunny)

[Rothyr Windbourne]

Rothyr knew he did not care for this city. He had wandered and wandered, and found nothing resembling a way out. After a spending a few hours lost the day before, he decided never to leave the port. However, a new day had dawned, and figuring heading north and west would have to take him out of the city, after sleeping by the pier in a well-enough hidden location, so he figured, he and Windlass trekked onwards.

The city didn't strike him well at all. Things changed, quickly, roads and alleys seemed to change direction and location, and he found himself lost more often than not. Being a hunter, and tracker, used to being able to navigate things fairly well, he found it maddening. He had heard sailors mention Alvadas being the house of trickery, a city that follows gods of trickery, and cunning. He should have seen this sort of thing coming.

Seeing a quaint little tavern, he reckoned a quiet drink might calm his nerves. Rothyr and Windlass had been travelling for the greater part of the day, with no luck it seemed finding the way out. He didn't bother asking for directions, for he found most people to be the untrustworthy sort. He kept to himself for the most part.

He tied Windlass to a post, and petted her on the neck, “I'll only be a moment,” He assured her, “Maybe I can find us directions out of this den of madness, eh?” She snorted, as if to say 'Good luck.'

[Sunny]

It was a beautiful day, the crisp, clear sunshine of early Fall chasing away the shadows from the corners of the streets and byways, though some shadows refused to retreat in this city of illusion. The air was dry and thus scents were slightly muted, but Sunny still snuffled as she walked, scrunching up her nose, nostrils twitching, detecting the many, many intriguing olfactory stimulants that wafted on the invisible currents. It was a habit that her mother had cautioned her to curb, whilst in human form. It was an unattractive one, in terms of human behavior, traipsing about sniffing like that. For the most part, though, Sunny ignored the maternal chastisement. There was just too much to take in, too much that she longed to pursue. Most days she would shift for at least a while, long enough to trot through the ever changing streets, lanes and alleys, nosing about in the litter and refuse, and then finding a favorite perch, a high spot from which she could lift her muzzle into the air and inhale deeply, trying to catch a whiff of what lay beyond the walls. Every once in a while, she could actually sneak away, sidling through the Maw and then out, to freedom! Taking off at a fast lope, she would move along for miles, exhilarated with just the chance to run. She would hunt, and then eat, feeling the same sense of accomplishment as when she had hunted at Nello's side.

Usually, she didn’t have enough free time to make it all the way to the foothills and back. The Wolf's Cave was a busy place and she had plenty of dishes and laundry to see to. Now that her hunter was gone, Sunny had been obligated to seek employment in the city. Micah Netven, a wolf kelvic whose parents ran the inn, had sympathized with the homeless and masterless girl and taken her in and put her to work, primarily doing the laundry, which was always in abundance. There were also mountains of dirty dishes to see to as well. For Sunny, poor thing, it was a far, far cry from the two seasons that she had spent at Nello’s side. Coming back to the city, after the freedom and fun of spending each day hunting, and each night curled in Nello’s arms, had been heart wrenching. And layered within her sadness over that loss, was the kelvic’s natural urge to bond with a master, and to serve. So far, there hadn't been anyone who seemed interested in a hunting dog, or even a pet dog.

Sunny didn’t fancy being stuck behind a laundry tub for the rest of her life. But so far, she just hadn’t hit upon anyone in the city that had seemed to want her. A kelvic could be a real asset, as a servant, a companion, a lover. Or he or she could be just another mouth to feed. Most people who lived in a city looked for the utility of such a creature, and Sunny was a mix of domestic drudge and skilled hunting partner. She was intelligent enough that, so far, she had successfully avoided presenting herself to anyone as the former, for she concluded that there were plenty of not so wonderful people who would be happy to take in a girl such as her, and work her til she dropped, and then replace her. There was another occupation that her parents had explicitly warned her not to get lured into, for a kelvic would almost die of heartbreak to be used by one man after another in such a way. So, optimistically, Sunny waited in hopes that one day another hunter would come along, one who could appreciate her talents and put them to good use. And in return, she would serve faithfully and live a life that she loved, out in the wilds. Would it ever really happen? Well, time would tell.

On this particular day, as she walked along, she wasn’t specifically thinking about such things. Her mind was preoccupied with the aroma of a roast fowl that wafted from the back door of a house that had newly appeared on this street, just that morning. Being a dog kelvic, Sunny had absolutely no trouble finding her way around Alvadas. She just let her nose, and hearing, be her guides, much more than her eyes. She also had an instinctive feel for where she would find the places that she sought. So she ambled on her long, slender legs, her golden-brown mane of hair fluttering about her shoulders, humming slightly and sniffing wistfully, thinking about her own lunch. Knowing that she should really be getting back to the inn to help with the mid-day meal’s preparations, she lengthened her stride, moving with grace, and reaching the brand new turn that would take her to her destination, smelling the horse, and the man, before she laid eyes on them.

Approaching first the beast that was tied to the hitching post before the inn where she lived and worked, Sunny smiled happily and strode right up to the mare. With a very direct look from her liquid chocolate eyes, Sunny engaged in some sort of non-verbal communication with the horse before reaching out to stroke her soft mane. She spent a moment quietly crooning to the animal before moving to pat her velvety nose and muzzle. With a parting kiss to the mare’s nose, she turned and regarded the man. He was large and well built, with a rugged look about him, from his travel worn clothes to his ruddy, weather tanned complexion. His hair was golden and he sported a reddish-gold beard and a bushy mustache. Sunny sniffed and was almost overwhelmed with the scents of camp fires and old blood and sweaty leather and game. Most of the smells were faded somewhat. But clearly, here was a man who had spent quite a bit of time outdoors and… hunting! Rapture!

The girl almost pounced on him, jumping forward to grab his arm in a friendly way and almost tugging him towards the door of the inn.

“Hello!” she exclaimed, a huge smile on her face. “Welcome! Were you coming in? I hope you are. Please, come inside. We have the best ale in the city. Are you hungry? We have an excellent cook. Do you need a room for the night? Our beds are very comfortable.” Her dark eyes were shining, and all that was lacking was the tail to be wagging ecstatically and she would have been the complete picture of a very happy hound.

“Come on!” she repeated, pulling on his arm.

OOCBeing dog-like, all you need to do is show some disapproval of her enthusiasm and she’ll back right off

[Rothyr Windbourne]

She nearly gave him a heart attack! He had felt someone come up to Windlass, but he simply thought someone was admiring what a fine animal she was. Cyphrus was far away, so it wouldn't be likely that many striders would come through. He was sure he was an oddity himself, how many Drykas come through Alvadas? Or Kalea as a whole? He paid her no mind as he quietly stowed away his ax on Windlass' saddle, and sheathed his knife in his boot. That is, until she grabbed him by the arm and startled the life out of him.

“Whoa!” he said, drawing his open hand back a little bit in case it was an attack, but to his ever-lasting fortune, it was a girl. A pretty, young, excitable, happy girl. Curious. He lowered his raised hand, and regained his composure, looking around and sizing her up to make sure she was really there. After a moment, he spoke in a calm slow tone, at least compared to her enthusiastic outburst about the tavern.

“Actually, yes, a meal and some ale sounds pretty good,” He stroked his chin, “and a bed doesn't sound bad either. It'd be a blessing to get off the road for a spell. My name is Rothyr, and my companion here is Windlass,” Windlass whinnied and shook her head in a sort of greeting, “We just arrived in town yesterday by boat from Syliras. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss.”

He allowed himself to be pulled along, with a look back at Windlass that seemed to say 'here we go again,' She always seemed to be giving him a hard time, lately. “You said your parents own this tavern?” he asked, trying to keep up with the young lady, “I hope they don't mind putting up a Drykasman and his horse, she's very particular about some things.”

[Sunny]

The man raised his hand and Sunny dropped his arm as if it had been a hot coal. Cringing a little, her eyes went to her shoes and she look quite abject. This was another thing her mother kept chiding her about. Being too forward, especially with men. Men didn’t want a girl who literally launched herself at them. Men liked females who were demure, quiet, well mannered. Sunny had always frowned about this claim, for Nello had seemed to appreciate her enthusiasm. But then again, maybe he was just a rarity and maybe she’d never find another like him. That possibility always made her quite sad. At this moment, though, she only felt a tremble of anxiety, fearing that she had, in fact, displeased the hunter.

But he quickly lowered his hand, and she could see that she had just caught him off guard. Maybe she was too abrupt, she thought, as the smile came back to her face. She liked the sound of him, deep and sure, just the way a man should be. And he was willing to come with her!

Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm again and led him to the door. “My name is Sunny, and I work here. And yes, that is sort of your friend’s name, but not exactly. But I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She likes you enormously, you know? But she did not like that boat. I’ve never been on one. A boat. I’ve been on a horse. Nello’s horse.”

She paused long enough to bring him inside the inn, and she dropped his arm and pointed at the tables. “Pick one, any one of them. What do you like to eat?” She snuffled a bit and said, “I’m afraid we don’t have any fresh game meat. It’s been more scarce, since the storm.” Her whole expression dropped for a moment, and she looked like a wistful child. “That was such a bad, scary thing.”

She grabbed his hand impulsively, and added, “Don’t go alright? I already asked your friend to not take you away. Not yet. You will stay, right? I’ll go to the kitchen and get you food, but, please stay!” She furrowed her brow as if trying to recall something, and said earnestly, "We like Drykasmen here. We really do!"

[Rothyr Windbourne]

“I like to think she does, at least I hoped she would. We've ridden together for some time now,” he said in praise of Windlass, “She's never done me wrong in any sort. She probably takes better care of me than I do, ha!” he laughed. He loved his horse. He was worried she wouldn't care much for him since technically he had stolen her, but she went with him.

“I can't say I enjoyed the boat much either, it was cramped and the sailors stank. Not even of the sea, but of sweat and liquor, and whatever strange brews they could smuggle aboard. I doubt the Syliran port officials condoned such things. They kept it quite hidden, but ya could smell it easy enough in the late hours. It was my first time on a boat, as well. I can't say I'd want to do it again, though. Not unless I had to,” He said as they went inside. He stopped speaking as he surveyed the inside of the inn. It was quiet and quaint, cozy and calm, and very welcoming. He liked it. It was dark, but well lit, a room lit with candles, and the sun coming through the windows gave it a warm, welcoming glow.

He eyed the comfy looking couches and tables, the bar nearest the kitchen, and took a seat there. He was alone after all, and it was his usual choice of seating. He sat down upon the stool, and leaned on the bar, with his hands clasped before him, interlocking his fingers pressing his hands against his lips as he looked around at the choices of ale they had. The most commonly spoke language, as in Syliras, was common, so he could read the labels. However, most of the selection of ales available were locally brewed. He hoped they would have been.

“What's the local favorite?” he asked Sunny “I've had plenty of game meat, trust me, ha!” he laughed, still looking around, “The storm was bad, indeed, I was crossing the Syliran/Cyphrus border when it happened, I reckon. Those days were all a blur, though, best left where they were in the past. Trust me, I'm not going anywhere, it seems like it'd ruin your day if I did. I'll be right here where you left me.” He smiled that smile that never changed and wouldn't change as he would age. That charming little smile that hid what bled on the plains, “And I'm glad you do, I'd be hurt if you didn't.”

“You never gave me your name, miss, by the way,” he added as she walked away.

[Sunny]

Sunny followed the traveler as he made his way to one of the large rocks that served as tables in the cavernous common room, practically treading on the heels of his boots. She listened to all he had to say, with an intense look upon her pretty face, her head cocked to one side slightly. Even as he looked about, she kept her eyes focused on him, as if he might disappear if she looked away. But she was gratified to see that he did not, and in fact, he slid onto one of the fur covered chairs, a sure sign that he intended to stay put for a while. This made her smile, and when he asked about local favorites, she naturally had a lot to say.

“Well, ham seems to be quite popular right now, or at least common. Some say that somewhere is a farmer with a whole herd of six legged pigs, because of the storm. So they say don’t eat pork, unless you know where it came from. But we don’t have any of that anyway. We have lots of fish though.” She wrinkled up her nose as if smelling fish that had turned. “I don’t like fish much. But my mother makes a very good fish stew, or so people say. I prefer rabbit stew, don’t you? Though if you’ve had a lot of game maybe you are tired of it. Nello used to grow tired of rabbit sometimes. That's why he spent so much time teaching me to hunt deer, or wild sheep, up on the mountains you know.” She raised her hand to indicate, standing on her toes even. “Way, waaaaaaaaaaay high up, like that.”

“I think we have some lamb chops, fresh from the market yesterday. At least it smelled like lamb. Mutton is rangier, you know. It smells… older. And yes I did. It’s Sunny, remember?” The girl placed both hands on his upper arm and looked into his face with an expression of excitement.

She reached and gave him a hug before bouncing away on the balls of her feet, into the back. “Don’t go anywhere, pleeeeeeease! You promised. Remember?” She had disappeared before she stuck her head back out, peeking around the doorway, looking abashed.

“I forgot to ask you. Which is it that you want?” Her eyebrows arched in an expectant way.

[Rothyr Windbourne]

“Are you normally this excited?” He asked not out of rudeness, if he sounded rude he didn't mean it at all, but there had to be something. Was she on some sort of alchemic brew like the sailors? Was that sort of thing quite common? People aren't usually that jumpy particularly when meeting a complete stranger, much less giving them hugs. But he accepted the hug, putting an arm around her. It was nice to be hugged, and he smiled.

“I imagine with the state of things, travelers are kind of uncommon. I know I was one of the few on the boat who didn't work for some sort of trader. I appreciate the welcome, though, it's pretty nice,” he thought a moment, “I'll have rabbit stew, if it's no trouble. Reminds me, I had a friend in Cyphrus who liked rabbit stew. His name was Oldo, he was a hunter like me. Lost his arm in a Glassbeak hunt. That was quite a day, let me tell you, ha!” He laughed a bit, remembering that day on the plains where the Drykas joined some Akalak fighters on a joint hunt, “One of 'em nearly took my head off, ha!”

After she ducked back into the kitchen, he asked her, speaking so she could hear him, “I don't mean to offend, but I wouldn't take you for a huntress. You said this Nello taught you how to hunt?” He wouldn't mind meeting another hunter, learn some more about the surrounding area and the creatures that lurked it would be welcome information indeed, information that could save his life and make him some coin potentially.

“Is there any chance I could meet him?”

[Sunny]

Sunny gave the bearded hunter a quizzical look, head cocked again, before she answered, “Maybe. My mother tells me to settle down a lot. But Nello always laughed at me.” She shrugged and grinned. “So, yes?” It was obvious that she wasn’t at all offended by his question about her normal state of being, and it was even as if maybe she had never considered that it might be a bit unusual. But as he slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a little hug in return for her exuberant one, she completely forgot about it anyway, and bounded into the kitchen.

Returning just a second later to get his order, from the doorway she listened to his story intently, lips parted, thinking how glorious, to finally be with another hunter who knew about such happy times spent…spent, where? Cyphrus? Oh that was very far away, or so she seemed to think. And glassbeaks? What were they? Sunny felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up thinking about something wild and fierce and taking off a man’s arm. Oh, how she’d love to sink her teeth into something like that, right in its throat and rip through the flesh. The saliva began to run in her mouth and her eyes became dark and intense, her muscles in her limbs almost twitching with desire. She stared at Rothyr, and said solemnly, “I wish I had been there. I would have protected you.”

Then, with an effort, she shook herself and trailed back into the kitchen, to fetch his meal. But she could easily hear his next comments, and question. Immediately, her shoulders sagged and there was a noticeable silence hanging in the air, in place of her previous chatter. When she returned with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread and slice of cheese, she set them down before Rothyr and her expression was completely crestfallen. Her dark eyes were shiny with her sorrow, though she shed no tears.

“I am a good hunter. Nello was a fine teacher, and kind, and good. But no, you can’t meet him. No-one can meet him any more. He is gone.”

Sunny sank down onto the chair beside the guest, crossing her arms on the rock table and laying her head on them, facing Rothyr.

“He is gone and he will never come back, I think. And now I have no home. Not a real home.” Her voice was as mournful as her expression.

[Rothyr Windbourne]

“I reckon an extra hand would have helped,” He said, in response to her offer of protection, “We did end up losing one of ours, though, he got torn to bits, that's besides the one, Oldo was his name, who lost his arm. We cleared the nest, though. It took a bit of doing, there were about a dozen of us and a few Akalaks, those blue fighters from Riverfall. I'm surprised they only got one of us.” He caught himself, remembering she may or may not have heard of such creatures. He figured he ought paint the picture. Rothyr liked telling a good story, after all. One of the reasons he took to the road was to make a few good stories. Here in Alvadas, they didn't have Glassbeaks, or glowing horses, or seas of grass. He'd be barking in the wind to speak of what he saw, so he ought to explain the peril of the hunting birds of the Grassland.

“Glassbeaks are nasty creatures, terribly dangerous. They stand about a head or two taller than I. Birds they are, but they don't fly. They run on two legs, even faster than the best of horses. A swipe of their claws is what ripped my friend's arm off, and he got lucky an arm is all they took. He survived, in the end. There was another, though. He was killed in the bushes. The beast that took him didn't even bother to eat him, she came after me.”

“Our plan had been to get them chasing us, net them up, and stab or shoot them to death from relative safety with spears and bows. One female, though, had broken out of the net, and ran after me determined to kill me. I turned around in the saddle, putting all my strength into one shot, or kill her or die trying. I managed to shoot her straight in the mouth. I swear, it was a lucky shot, ha!” He mimicked the movements of drawing a bow, and loosing an arrow as he spoke of shooting the Glassbeak, “If I hadn't shot when I did, she'd have killed me, but here I am. My father made me an ax of her beak to remember her by. It's holstered on Windlass's saddle now. It was my first glassbeak hunt.”

Rothyr saw her reaction when she spoke of this man, 'Nello,' and wished he hadn't asked anything. If he knew it would strike such a chord, as to bring this bright, shining young woman to such a solemn, low point, he would never have asked. He only sought to learn more about the area around here, and in retrospect he supposed he could have just asked her. Drykas as he is, he is still human, and prone to making mistakes.

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, “I shouldn't have asked. I understand the feeling. I've lost loved ones as well. Not just to the hunt, either.”

“That's not a story I care to tell, though, not tonight.” He said, dipping a chunk of the bread into the stew.

“This smells very, very good,” he put the broth-soaked bread into his mouth, and chewed it up, “It tastes very good, too. To be so delicious, you must have made it, didn't you?” He said with a wink, swallowing the delicious morsel.