Thick sheets of rain fell from the nearly pitch black sky as if the clouds waged a war against the very earth itself. A torrential downpour that left the roads caked in thick mud, sent the birds to their nests, and animals to their caves. Casper forced his way through, the earth stuck up to his middle shins as he forced his way through. The rain made it difficult to see much further than a mile or so, obscuring everything in colors of dull gray and pale blue. The water scattered against the tall pines that shifted and creaked in the hard wind, bending much further than one would think even possible.
A small pin prick of pale orange light became visible just over the small hill he was climbing. The lights from a modest roadside tavern, set aside in a thin pathway off from the main road. The incline however made it hard to continue and press forward as small streams of water poured down the mud. Each step was a greater effort than the last, Casper had been traveling for the better part of 48 hours straight on this leg, adding to the previous several hundred miles he had already put behind him, and despite all his experience and frequent walking, he was only human, mostly. A journey such as he took would have likely killed lesser men, lesser boys as his father would likely say. Not many men his age could have walked themselves halfway across the country by themselves, or those that could might not have returned the same. Casper however, was not most men his age.
Forcing his way through, he came to rest against the log walls of the tavern. He could see smoke from the chimney, and hear the sounds of muffled conversation through the small windows despite the torrential downpour, and the ache of his muscles became all the more apparent so close to respite. The dull orange glow from inside was a welcoming sight, but he couldn't go in just yet. Casper checked his things, tucking his daggers deeper behind him on his belt and moved his short sword to a less obvious position under his heavy cloak, making sure to tighten it closer to his person.
He took a brief glance into his coin purse. No more than a small handful of copper and 2 silver. Nothing much worth taking, but it's better to be careful in new places, and treat every new one as if it were hostile, or enemy territory, as if everyone was out to get you. Perhaps a bit dramatic, no, it was almost certainly extreme dramatic but Casper couldn't say it hadn't kept him alive this long, so he situated the coin purse into a more difficult to access location on his hip.
Lastly, before going in he pulled the sleeves of his tunic down all the way, and pulled the edge of his long gloves all the way up making careful to cover the distinct black vein like marking on his arms. Making sure the cloak sat snugly over his shoulders, and the scarf set to cover the markings continuation up his neck, he took in a deep breath and pushed his way inside the tavern.
The wooden walls and simple construction of the place gave it a pleasant, warm interior, pairing nicely with the crackling warm fireplace that acted as a stark contrast to the piercing cold storm outside. Only a few patrons were sat at tables this evening. It looked like some farm hands sharing a drink at the bar, another traveler deep into several mugs of booze at his own table near the window. And one or two other locals maybe. Casper tapped his boots just outside the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him.
"Evenin' " a kindly middle aged women greeted him as she poured two more drinks to the farm hands at the bar. Casper offered a polite nod, taking a quick scan of the place as to not seem too suspicious of his late arrival. Casper figured the tavern didn't get too many outside travelers this late, and especially not in this weather, so he worked to shrink his stature and appear as unassuming as possible.
"Can I get ya anythin' love?" The woman's accent was sweet and thick, she must have been born near the border. For a brief moment her voice reminded him of home, but Casper quickly shook the idea out of his head. As pleasant as it would be to relax and be comfortable after a two days of travel, the last thing he could afford to do was get too comfortable in a new place.
"Some food if you could please, perhaps a drink if it's cheap… and a room" Casper said, making an approach to a table closest to the fire.
The woman finished her conversation with the farmers and went to the back, and a little while later returned with a bowl of hot soup, bread, and a mug of ale. "Here-yar' love"
She leaned against the table before walking away, looking over Casper a bit. "Don' mean ta be rude-"
Casper nodded and without much fuss supplied the coins from his purse, the remaining copper he had.
"Thank ya, truly i mean no offense. Just that we've been havin' lots of folks travel through here an think they can get away with not payin'"
"Big issue around here?" Casper asked, not entirely interested, but he figured it cost nothing extra to be nice, and she had been kind enough to serve him quickly despite the odd hour.
"Aye, a little. Lotsa' soldiers coming back this way, from the front and all… gotta serve our king an country an all that." she frowned, clearly the ideas of the patriotism didn't do much for paying the bills
Casper nodded politely and took a spoonful of soup in, savoring the hot liquid as it warmed him from the inside.
"Of course one must serve their king, no matter the personal cost" he raised his drink sarcastically and took a sip.
"Aye" she responded to the sarcasm in kind with a half smile.
"Ah. how much for a room" Casper asked. Fumbling around in his coin purse.
"2 silver pieces for the night"
Casper almost choked on his first sip of the ale, and had to make quite the effort to not spit it back up into the cup.
"Two silver…" he looked into his coin purse. The last two he had, the last bit of money he had at all in fact.
"Aye, two silver for the night. No separate rooms I'm afraid, communal sleepin' is upstairs."
"Right" he laughed a little though really he wanted more than anything to disappear. Two silver was significantly overpriced. One silver perhaps for a place inside city walls, two silver for a nice one, or a good brothel if you know how to spend your time. But he was in no position to argue, and the options were sleep in here for 2 silver or sleep outside in the pouring rain, so he reluctantly handed the woman the very last of his money"
"Thank ya love, enjoy! And let me know if you need anything else"
"Of course" Casper smiles, but a vein bulged from under his hood at the scam.
It was difficult to enjoy the meal, now that he knew he was basically eating every last bit of wealth he had to his name, but it was necessary. The weather was far too harsh and frankly too dangerous, it would have been idiotic to try and camp out in that. Had he more time to scout for a cave or such it might have been possible earlier in the evening, but the rain came on far too quickly, it hadn't given him even a moment to ponder the possibility. In fact he was lucky he recalled the tavern in passing the last time he came through this way several years ago with his father.
His father had some important business down in the city, so when Casper was seven he joined his father on the trip to the city. A remarkably dangerous venture to take with such a young kid, but his father couldn't risk having a village maid look after him. Not for a lack of trust, but rather for the possibility that the maid may know the mark Casper was born with.
Casper and his father traveled this road by horse, Casper riding in front of his fathers lap at the time. It had been quite the trip, Casper remembered, and remembered fondly. The memory of the trip helped regain some of the warmth that had been expended through his coin purse, though not by much. After all, fond memories don't fill your belly.
The meal had been good, and Casper took his leave from the warmth of the tavern floor and worked his tired body up the stairs and into the loft room. Several small beds of simple construction lay scattered in the loft, 3 of the 6 present were already taken it seemed, and their occupants were fast asleep. Casper worked his way carefully over to the bed in the furthest corner of the loft, and stripped himself down to change into clean cloths, being careful and doubly sure that those present were asleep, as to not see the ink blackish vein like designs that crawled from the tip of his fingers, up across his chest, down his stomach and legs, nearly to his toes, and up all the way to the base of his neck.
Setting his pack down next to his gear, and hanging his wet travel worn cloths up to dry near the trough in the far corner, he pulled out his own blanket from his pack and made quick work of falling asleep.
The next morning came with the passive patter of rain on the tavern's roof and thin windows. An unpleasant sound to wake up to. While normally Casper could be considered rather fond of the rain, he had places to be and a delay in his travel would only prove massively inconvenient.
Casper made a habit of traveling quickly, the use of the mark on his body allowed him to press onward even after most people had reached their physical limit, a near infinite pool of energy he could tap into for a variety of physically enhancing effects. He didn't use this power for travel because the business he had was time sensitive, but rather because Casper had already been walking for the better part of a month straight and was incredibly bored, and was desperate to get inside the city if only for the change in scenery.
Casper also had, over his month of travel, tried to walk in as straight a line as possible in order to be as efficient as possible. Traveling through the thick of the wilderness might have been slow moving for most people, but Casper was able to utilize the power of his mark to climb with ease, jump incredible distances, teleport short ones if necessary, and being in the very depths of the wilderness allowed him to freely use these abilities free from the sight of any other potential travelers.
It was worth noting however, that this method of travel did not lend itself well to the acquisition of funds necessary to supply himself with the things he needed. So occasionally Casper would make minor detours in the direction of towns or trade posts or roadside inns and taverns he knew existed in order to resupply, as well as take a few jobs to make up some money.
The situation Casper found himself in now however, mostly due to a lack of foresight induced by profound boredom, was a rather difficult one. Casper was definitely out of money, and he was stuck here for at least another day. Casper was of course physically very capable but the abilities of his mark didn't prevent chafing, rashes, or the cold. Sure he could heal them over time, but that would be almost as inconvenient as the situation he was presently in, and out of the options available, both of which are inconvenient, he may as well take the one that could provide him with money, for which he could use to buy food and no longer subject himself to his poor cooking on the road.
With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, Casper took his mostly damp cloths from their drying line over the trough and slipped into them under his blanket, as the others in the room were waking and he couldn't risk someone seeing the inky lines on his body.
Making his way down stairs and back over to the bar, Casper listened to his stomach grumble in protest. "Soon…soon" he whispered to himself, placing one hand over his guts to silence its cries and take in the scope of the tavern this morning.
A few meals were being offered, mostly ham and eggs with potatoes, which made his stomach grumble more. A few early risers and several more new arrivals had already made their way to tables, mostly other travelers or merchants. There were however some new arrivals that grabbed his attention. They look to be a collection of soldiers that had taken a position nearest the door and were actively carrying on quite loudly.
They looked to be younger, perhaps fresh into the service, though by their bandaged bodies it would appear evident that they were not without experience. Casper ventured to guess that they are passing through after a medical discharge, and are most likely done with the fighting, and looking forward to taking their injury payments and living large for a while before either drinking or gambling it all away.
Casper didn't necessarily have a poor opinion on soldiers in general, he did however have a poor opinion of these soldiers, as one grabbed at the servers rear end as she passed by while another demanded a drink in a particularly rude tone.
Actions like these were not uncommon, and in fact, according to Casper's father, this was considered the norm as you got closer to the cities that exist all around the kingdom's borders. Casper, having grown up and lived his entire life in the village his father built, was not used to people being so openly rude and disrespectful, and found the notion that it was common to trample over others you thought were lesser, a particularly barbaric practice and likely not very conducive to a functioning society.
Casper's father however had explained to him that in the Kingdom of Getha, women possessed lesser roles than men in traditional spheres. He had compared it to the way races are perceived. In the same way that elves, celestials, fiends and fey were considered higher races, while humans, dragonkin, and gnomes were considered the middle races, and half breeds, orcs, halflings, beastfolk and monstrous races were considered to be the lesser races, in Getha society females of the respective races were considered even below that in status and station.
This of course was an upsetting thing to hear, as Casper's mother was a profoundly wonderful woman, and the women of his town were incredibly kind people capable, and inspiring people, the thought of them being treated as poorly as this barmaid was, was upsetting to be sure. Though it explained why the barmaid had been so eager to sever a complete stranger who looked like they had just tumbled in from some battle somewhere, likely some fear of being berated.
Despite Casper's dislike for the practice, his father had told him that while in the company of others in their own culture, its necessary to at the very least pretend. The kingdom of Getha still abided by the old ways of doing things, and as such didn't take kindly to those trying to enforce new cultural norms, and any who attempted to bring with them these "new" ideas would be seen as a threat to their way of life. In short it would only ever cause problems, and Casper hated problems.
Casper took up a position at the bar, despite not having money, was hoping he could persuade the server into providing a small amount of scrap food that he could pay back later, perhaps offering a dagger as collateral until he could return.
He signaled the barmaid over, and after she finished serving the rowdy soldiers made her way over to Casper.
"What can I do for ya love?" she asked in a sweet tone, happy to get away from the now louder men it would appear.
"I was hoping you might have any scrap foods you I could have to help hold me over until I get more coin? I know you likely think I'm itching to take a free hand out and be on my way, so I'd like to offer my dagger as collateral, something you can hold onto until I make up the coin to repay you?"
Casper produced the dagger from its sheath on his belt and set it gently onto the counter. The dagger itself was of fine make, one of his fathers first works, so not the best but could fetch a fair price at a market, more than enough to pay for a meal.
Unfortunately, before the barkeep could even consider the offer, one of the soldiers noisily stood from the table, stumbled over to the bar and grabbed hold of the dagger.
Casper didn't have any real interest in starting a fight, he needed food and money and the last thing that would help with that is causing a problem.
"Oi, that's a nice piece" the soldier slurred, taking the dagger and holding it up to the firelight. "Where did you get this one?"
More than a little annoyed at the brazenness of this man, but level headed enough to not take too much offense to the drunken behavior, Casper let out a soft sight and looked over to the man. He was clearly drunk, having started much earlier in the morning. His blond hair fell in loose curls around a recently broken nose.
"My father made it." Casper said with as much patience as he could muster, and then held out his hand for the dagger to be returned to him.
"Your old man made it? Right, that's quite impressive…" the man slurs, " I rather like this piece…what do you say you let me keep it? For my service to his majesty an all that?" the man looked over to his friends at the table, and then turned back to Casper with a toothy smile.
"You're drunk and making a fool of yourself, I won't take offense if you return my dagger and sit back down with your friends" Casper said coolly, trying his best to be the level headed, cool, and calculating man his father was. Unfortunately his angry stomach had infected his mind, and that infection wasn't doing any favors for his patience this morning.
The soldier looked like he was going to retort with a snarky comment, but at the shout of one of the others at the table, he frowned and dropped the dagger on the floor. "Fine" The soldier shrugged.
Casper bent down to retrieve the item, and grimaced at the sensation of something wet and cold pouring down his head.
Sitting back up and wiping away the ale that had been very graciously gifted directly onto the back of his head, he gritted his teeth and took in a deep breath, and returned to his conversation with the barmaid.
She offered a look of paid sympathy, and without much in the way of words took the dagger from the table and produced some older, more stale food from the day before.
Offering his thanks after the meal was had, Casper made his way outside to look over the job board to decide what he could do to both repay the meal, and hopefully refill his coin purse.
Scanning over the options, much to his dismay, there wasn't really anything in the way of good work. This roadside tavern was really the only establishment aside from a stable hand and a leather worker, they had some jobs posted for supply delivery, but that would require traveling back the way he came, and though he was more than capable of lifting several crates and barrels, doing so without a horse or cart would be suspicious.
One job looked ever so slightly more appealing, though only by a little. The job was to hunt and gather some of the local wildlife for the tavern. Apparently they farm pigs and have access to chicken, eggs and other vegetables, but their "specials" come from wildlife hunted in the area.
Taking the job posting, figuring that he could also likely restock on his own supply of meat, it would be beneficial and easy to do. Casper scanned the forest beyond the inn and set off into the drizzle.
Casper had always been a rather proficient hunter, not just because of the mark lending itself to enhanced abilities, but because he always had a deep affinity for the wilderness. This affinity didn't make him immune to boredom while traveling within it of course, but he always felt more at home surrounded by trees and grass, cliffs and streams than he ever did surrounded by walls and roofs. His father had called it claustrophobia but Casper thought it was different than that. Its not as though he was scared of being inside or in smaller places, but rather the freedom offered by the vast expanse of wilderness lent itself better to his way of doing things than a town or city could.
In towns there was an expectation to perform or act in a certain way, be it culturally, socially, or in some places religiously. Meanwhile out in the open wilds one could be their true and honest self free of judgment.
For example, when in civilized spaces Casper made a conscious effort to act in accordance with his station. Casper was a human, a middle race, and a male, son of a town mayor which placed him ever so slightly higher up on the social ladder than approximately %50 of the population. Because of this, and to avoid scrutiny or hardship, he had to perform that role to the best of his abilities. While out here in the wilderness, Casper could jump from tree to tree like a savage animal. Climb rocks and get into the dirt and mud, track and hunt, like a predator free from the bonds of any social contracts.
This way of acting always felt more natural, according to Casper's father this was a passive effect of the mark he bore, which is likely true as his father new more about it than Casper did, but still, Casper preferred to think of it as an affinity to nature as opposed to a curse of the mark twisting his psyche to be that of an animals.
Luckily for Casper, this affinity, or curse, which ever people decided to call it, was responsible for his haul for the day, 3 deer, 2 hogs, and even an elk. The cold brutal efficiency of the process having happened almost entirely as passive function. its like his mind was turned off and his body moved on its own to strike down the game in less than an hour.
He recognized that the speed of his hunt was functionally impossible for even the most trained trackers, so after securing his kills, he stripped them down and secured their parts to prevent spoilage, and made sure to take an extra long time walking back.
Casper had placed his collection of hunted animals down in the back of the tavern under a small canopy. It had been raining all day, so this wasn't to keep them dry per say, but to keep them out of view from any other travelers passing through, of which there appeared to be several more this evening.
He made his way back inside to the barkeep, and noted the soldiers asleep at their table, having passed out from over drinking and eating, and the barmaid evidently unwilling to risk their wrath should she choose to wake them.
Casper also noticed a lithe looking man in a forest green cloak, with a short bow over his shoulder, and a defeated look in his eye that indicated to Casper that this hunter was curious as to why the hell all the big game was already gone. Casper allowed himself a smile of amusement at the imagery of the man tracking down everything Casper had already hunted that evening.
A younger looking boy, traveling alone sat isolated nearby, nervous looking almost, though given Casper's estimation of his age he couldn't fault him. Casper considered approaching just to make sure he was alright, but watched as another older gentlemen made an attempt and was quickly dismissed. A couple more soldiers had arrived, these a bit more even tempered though deep enough into their drinks Casper supposed that wouldn't last long, and a few other weary travelers looking to get out of the drizzle for the evening.
With a sigh at the notion that the above rooms would likely fill up quickly, Casper informed the barmaid of his haul for the evening. She looked as though he may be messing with her, but after an inspection of the collection of corpses brought to her doorstep, she returned mostly confused, but happy.
"Right ya'r then…well, I suppose you ought to get paid for your work love" she offered a weary smile, and produced 5 gold marks as well as Casper's dagger back to him. "Say, did you kill all of those with a knife?" she asked, worried she might sound foolish for asking the question, as the notion of a hunter taking down the animals Casper did with nothing but a knife was nothing short of bizarre.
Casper of course was so fueled by his stomach's desire for another hot meal and overtaken by the urge to let loose a little, he didn't realize that what he had done would draw attention to him until the strangeness of his actions were spoken out loud.
More than a little embarrassed now, and also slightly nervous, Casper let out a forced chuckle and dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand "I was…raised to hunt like that from a very young age you see…its actually quite common where I'm from" he lied
"Right. I see…"
She definitely wasn't buying it, but the barmaid recognized the uncomfortable look on Casper's face, and as a well seasoned server of drinks, recognized that making patrons uncomfortable was a surefire way to lose your tip. As such, she quickly dropped that line of questioning even though her curiosity was surely eating away at her.
Casper was gracious that his slip up had been dismissed so easily, and ordered his food for the evening. He tried his best to enjoy it, but as he was halfway through his meal the door swung open and in spilled more of the king's finest, these more rowdy than the first.
It looked as if nearly every other patron in the establishment was getting ready to leave for the beds upstairs, and taking a hint from that, Casper followed their lead. Quickly finishing his meal, paying for another night and quickly escaping for a good spot upstairs earlier than he would have liked, but anything to get away from the inevitable noise of soldiers continuing to drink.
Morning came all too quickly for Casper. Though waking in a bed, regardless of how uncomfortable or poorly constructed it was, was better, even if ever so slightly, than sleeping on the hard ground in the rain. On one hand, there was an honesty in sleeping out in the deep wilderness, a certainty of expectation that came with it. The dangers, the monsters and animals and so forth, which were a known quantity and thus much easier to deal with. Sleeping in a bed in the attic room of a tavern surrounded by strangers however brought with it a certain uncertainty. Regardless, these matters all felt quite insignificant given that the tavern was warm with a morning fire and he had in fact not been robbed over the night.
Casper scanned the room again this morning, and made sure that those still in their beds were fast asleep before he pulled on his now dry travel clothes.
It was still quite early, even for the farmers. But it was better to rise early before your enemy, and in a new place, that was everyone.
The sun wasn't even on the horizon yet, but still he heard the sounds of conversation below his feet In the tavern. Though the more he listened the stranger it seemed.
A higher pitched voice, younger sounding, paired with the voices of a handful of older men. It wasn't too odd, all things considered, but the tone is what made Casper curious. He finished donning his gear, tossed his pack over his shoulder and walked carefully down the steps so as to not draw too much attention.
The fire burning on the far wall cast hard shadows against the group gathered downstairs. Light was only just beginning to creep its way along the distant horizon but not nearly enough to lend itself to much additional light from the windows. A few soldiers, some who had stumbled in from the night before, all of which far too drunk for this early in the morning, were sitting at the table where the young boy was. The soldiers' weapons were piled up against the entryway, still wearing armor though in various states of removal and their movements sloppy. It was likely they were the ones who had got in late to spend all night partying and were apt to continue the party with this uninterested boy at the table.
The boy at the guards table had soft features, short cut messy brown hair and a heavy coat over some scraps of armor with a dagger on his belt, which had so far gone unnoticed by the group. It looked like the boy could hold his own if it came to it. The boy was clearly getting frustrated with the drunkards as they stopped and sloshed around him. Trying to coax him into joining their parting despite the boys nonverbal protests.
Casper shrugged. Not his problem, and nothing to worry about. The boy looked a little soft, probably new to travel by himself but not entirely ignorant to its dangers. Evident by some clear battle scarring near the wrists and the slightly calloused hands, with fresh blisters in the places one gets when wielding a blade, and using it.
Casper pulled the hood over his head. The rain had stopped coming down as hard now but there was still a light misting on the window.
Before he could make it to the door however. Casper heard the sound of an open hand slapping the boys back. After all. He was the only one not wearing armor and that came with a much different sound than slapping a table or chain. The sound of the slap was instantly followed up with another.
At the sound of a retaliatory slap Casper winced. Perhaps the soldiers had done it in good fun, or just because they were drunk and didn't know any better. But the boys response of a slap of his own was practically a declaration of a fight, and now he had pissed off the 4 others. Casper shook his head. Even drunk, 4 guardsmen in full chain with weapons by the door was no easy odds against the young man.
He probably shouldn't have done anything. Maybe sleeping in a relatively warm bed the two nights before had softened Casper up a little, put him in a good mood. Casper let a knife clatter to the ground as he walked by, close to the boy just in case he needed an extra, and then pretended to be far too tired to notice.. Casper then swiped the collection of spears against the wall as he walked outside and leaned them against the outside wall instead. The sounds of a soldier hitting the ground groaning and the others shifting and cursing covering up the sound of his harmless sabotage.
It wasn't much, all in all. But he figured it would be better to even the odds, in case one of them was an angry drunk and decided to get handsy with a spear. The boy would likely lose regardless. But he didn't want to see anyone die because of some drunks and grumpy early risers. The knife was there for a little extra, as Casper had passed by he noticed the blade the boy had was well worn and dull as hell. Even from just a glance. Should they try to get too serious, a knife in sober hands was a good equalizer.
Casper took in a deep breath of morning air, looking over the forest road as dim, pale blue light started to stretch out over the horizon, down the hill and over the tops of the trees. The sounds of the birds chirping and singing drowning out over the sounds of bodies hitting bodies and tables screeching against the floor. A good day, but he still had plenty of travel left to go, and the less time he wasted the better. So he was off.