As the clear sky high above grew brighter from the coming sun from the east, pushing away the settled darkness that had gripped the sleepy village of Hyrnn.
Slowly awaking from its slumber, somewhere at the edge of the market street, rummaging to life, was a lone woman, already awake and working. She was moving back and forth in the dying shadows that the comforting light of a new day was about to wash away
A middle-aged woman stood at the back of the Dozy'Mare's storage yard, casually perusing a collection of crates that the carriage had just dropped off not long ago.
*SCRATCHING OF A QUILL ON PAPER.*
Quickly scribbling something onto a piece of rough but cheap parchment of lines and boxes with odd numbers and glyphs. The woman slowly moved from left to right, lifting the already peeled lids up and then placing them back down, glancing over the contents that lay inside, organising everything into her mind and on paper.
As the fresh morning wind picked up, short blonde strands of hair began to blow back and up, now dangling over and beyond her defined collarbone and well-pressed clothes. The light gust also caught a muttering that was growing louder from the lone woman.
Magio: 'Frustrated.' Four whole Grovers, check! Diced veggies, check! (The pre-inked quill moved in her hand.) Eight barrels of... (Counting in her head.) One, two, three, four, five, six... no seven or eight. (Closing her eyes.) Not again...
*A LOUD GRUMBLE CAME FROM MAGIO.*
Magio: There should be eight barrels here, not six. 'Groaning.' Why are there only six? (Tapping the top edge of the board onto her forehead.) I'm going to wrangle that idiot of a merchant! I said I wanted eight barrels... (Gazing over the crates once more.)
*SOFT TAP.*
The wooden board filled with scribbles angled down from the woman's forehead as it rested on her furrowed brow, then moved back down as she spoke to herself.
Magio: At least everything else looks to be here... I hope. 'Dismay.'
A piece of yellow paper caught the woman's attention.
Magio: Hello, hello, what do we have here? . 'Interested.' What might you be... (The soft tips of Magio's fingers moved to something.)
*SLIGHT TEAR OF PAPER BEING PULLED OF A PIN.*
The underside of the hastily constructed lid held a small, torn piece of paper, which Magio reached for and pulled off, reading it in her mind; the pin still stuck to the underside of the lid as it lowered back down.
"Dear Miss Magio. Arnold was unable to complete the entire order or procure any more barrels. Though I successfully negotiated an additional shipment of red wine in the next batch at a lower discount, for which Arnold has sent his apologies profusely. I am also sorry for using the leftover food last night; I left some coins under the shelf to pay for it; please forgive me as I will get the rest as soon as I can. Sincerely Ayrell."
No longer thinking, words drifted past her soft, warm red lips.
Magio: 'Smirking.' He surely has the gift that one. 'Admiration.' Arnold is stuck up as a noble's flagpole when it comes to paying up, let alone making things right. (Mulling over something in her head.) Hmm, "Dear Miss Magio."
A warmth filled Magio's cheeks.
Magio: "Mr's" would be nice; it has a lovely ring to it. (Glancing around, flicking away the warmth in her cheeks as she shook her head.) Maybe...
*CLACKING OF HOOVES AND THE ROLLING OF WOODEN WHEELS ON COBBLES.*
The galloping of horses clattered along, wafting over the street hidden behind the old wall, where Magio stood, lost in her romanticising daydream, hidden from the world coming to life. Eventually freeing herself from her lustful thoughts, she looked back to the inn's backdoor as the horses were long gone.
A board lowered, then it dropped onto a wooden lid of the box closest to Magio.
*CLACK.*
Magio: Come to think of it... Where in the five hells is he? 'Griping.' We had a deal... (Turning, something catching her attention.)
*HEAVY CRASH.*
Originating from the main entrance of the Dozy'mare, a loud thud echoed from deep within the inn. A wide smirk appeared on the still-beautiful blushed face of Magio, as the years continued to be kind to her womanly complexion, followed by a sadistic tone and grin that made it all fade away in an instant.
Magio: 'Grinning.' The sounds of free labour, just my luck. (Making her way towards the faint sound of moaning.) Ayrell can keep his coins; I have found my own means of payment and they will work for it.
A conversation and commotion grew louder and the woman moved towards it.
---In the small hall of the Dozy'Mare.---
*LOUD THUD AND BANGS.*
Splayed out across the all-too-familiar grey and mud-covered wooden flooring were two adolescent women writhing around, one struggling while the other became focused. Their bodies almost intertwined, forming a small lump of leathery mass that moved around as the melding of leather armour blended together, the dark and the light at play.
Atop the stairs, someone stood watching it all unfold with a firm look and an annoyed expression as a cry of want of freedom rang out.
Yervel: 'Shouting.' GET OFF ME, RACHE, YOU'RE TOO HEAVY! (Flailing her arms.) FERYN, HELP ME! SHE'S GOING TO KILL ME!
Rache pinned Yervel to the ground as the flailing of legs and arms struggled in all directions. Yervel made every effort to resist the overwhelming power of the red-haired young woman, ultimately failing; her small physique was no match for the others skill in close quarters, easily shifting Yervel's weight around like a toy.
Rache: FAT! (Gritting her teeth.) Who are you calling fat? (Looking at her chest.) Though I can't help it; I'm just more developed than you. (Staring down at her chest.) If you do die, let it be known that my bust vanquished the little magician and conquered magic itself.
Small hands of the dark purple-haired girl slapped down in a push-up position, trying to lift up against the weight holding her down.
Yervel: (Pushing up, then smacking back down.) I said heavy, not fat. 'Panting.'
Yervel caught her breath, still trying to get free her staff and hat flung from her hands.
Yervel: It looks like it all developed in your breasts rather than your head. (Slapping Rache's leg.) Get off of me... 'Pleading. NOW RACHE, I MEAN IT!
A scolding look was shot at Yervel. It was all about the request of the night before that was once more forgotten, once more pushed to the side.
Rache: What was asked of you, Yervel? 'Upset.' You had one job and one job alone. (Twisting her waist.) One job! (Pointing a finger to Yervel's face.)
Rache could see Yervel trying to reach for her small staff, but to no avail; it rolled to the side, nestled next to the hat ahead.
Rache: Funny, if you had your "staff," you could have used some strengthening magic, couldn't you? Or a preservation spell like the one you forgot to do last night, AGAIN! 'Berating.'
Pleading calls rang out in the small hall, calling to the person atop the stairs.
Yervel: 'Begging.' OKAY, OKAY! (Looking up.) Amanda, I'm sorry! (No longer floundering arms and legs.)
Atop the stairs, Feryn slowly moved into view, now poking his head around Amanda's left shoulder as the crying calls of Yervel were given life by the drama unfolding below, as he could clearly see the commotion below him.
Feryn: 'Smirking.' If Rache sits on her any longer, she will surely... (Feeling an uneasy shadowy aura behind him.)
Partially hearing the words of the young man, scolding, squinting crimson eyes shot up the stairs, still sitting atop its prey, forcing Feryn to think on his words before he could finish.
Feryn: 'Gulping.' I mean... She will surely learn her lesson, which is what I meant to say. (Quickly slinking down the stairs.) Not like she will suffocate... (Blue eyes flicking from Rache then to Amanda.) You girls have your fun; I will see if Ayrell is waiting for us in the bar.
The shield man's words elicited small whimpers from Yervel that continued to fill the hall as he disappeared out of view and to the bar around the bend.
Rache: Wise words, Feryn... 'Scolding look.' She might need a bit more punishment; what do you say, Amanda? (Now looking at Amanda.)
A failed defiance rang out from Yervel, her limbs frantically trying to get free once more. Amanda stood still, her eyes closed, as she thought of the next course of action.
Yervel: Feryn, you coward! 'Crying out.' Don't leave me! (Wriggling to get free.) I'm sorry, Amanda; I won't do it again; there I said it!
Green eyes snapped open, directing their beauty and determined gaze towards the pair below.
Amanda: (Unfolding her arms.) That should be enough, I hope. 'Glaring.' Rache, you can let her go; I hope that she has learnt her lesson. Haven't you, Yervel?
The crumpled-up mage on the floor gave a defeated nod, and Rache stood, releasing Yervel.
Yervel, now free, caught her breath and flipped over, now on her back, looking up at the woman above and to the dark arched ceiling where the thick beams sat. An open hand appeared, now floating above Yervel's rising and falling small chest, with the hat and staff presented to her.
Rache: (Dark gloved hand outstretched with a hat and staff.) Good! Just don't forget to preserve his food next time. Ayrell did get us those potions after all; it's the least you could have done. 'Squinting.' Or, next time, your tombstone will read "death by Rache's grand bosom" if you do it again, that is.
Rache helped Yervel stand up after she handed over the items, the creases in the leather showing and the dirt clinging to the rough material due to the weight of the two of them pushing into the dirty floor below.
Yervel: Fine. (Wiping the dust and dirt from her leather cloak.) I get it; he isn't completely useless; maybe we shouldn't kick him out after all. 'Miffed.'
*CLICKING OF HEELS.*
Footsteps tapped down the stairs as they grew closer, the heels of Amanda's boot clacking on the wood, moving in front of Rache and Yervel, aiming for Feryn's direction.
Amanda: Yervel, come on; no more talk of last night. (Walking past Rache and Yervel.) Let's catch up to Feryn and plan what we are going to do next. Hopefully, Ayrell will be there with the potions... (Walking forward, her face planted into something soft but firm, stumbling back.)
Amanda, Yervel, and Rache's eyes gazed up at the towering stature planted in the hall, now feeling even smaller than it already was.
Magio: What's that I heard? I hope my ears don't deceive me... 'Furious.' In the bar... NOW! (Glancing over the three young adventurers.) What's this about you kicking Ayrell out!
The once flowing blonde hair in the soft wind flicked around; if it wasn't shoulder-length, it would have slapped Amanda in the face as she turned to the bar in the footsteps of Feryn who had already been wrangled up.
A bewildered magician spoke up, not fully catching the landlady's words as she moved the hat to her head.
Yervel: 'Confused.' What's all that about? (Pushing her long purple hair back.)
The red, tied-up ponytail of the woman behind Yervel swung left and right, following the soft shaking of a head at Yervel's ignorance.
Rache: (Tightening her belt.) Sometimes I wonder about you, Yervel. Does all that magic cloud your judgement and prevent you from using common sense? 'Irked.' What is said in the room stays in the room.
Another spoke, berating the magician.
Amanda: (Rubbing her nose.) Take a wild guess, Yervel! (Walking off.)
Violet eyes watched Rache and Amanda walk on, leaving her alone in the small hall.
Yervel: (Slumping her shoulders.) Me and my big mouth... (Slinking off, following Amanda.) Into the meat grinder, I guess... 'Defeated huff.'
The clacking of feet disappeared around the corner, heading to the bar.