[b]Ritka: Alley adjacent to Boar's Head Tavern[/b]

After almost a week in Gandryll's capital, Ritka was beginning to regret the slapdash nature of the plan that had brought her here. It had been too long since she'd been in a city, surrounded by the constant press and bustle of people, and so she'd entered the gate as a rat in the back of a farmer's wagon instead of as a woman. This, however, had meant that she'd been able to bring no clothing with her, and as she could hardly go before the King's advisor nude, her movements were limited. It didn't help that she'd been unable to glean any information about Avalon's activities. The rumors told her that he was important - but that was all. There was nothing around which she could plan, and she would not risk her own skin entering the palace without that.

She'd found an alleyway near the Forest, not too far into the city to be heavily trafficked or inhabited by itinerant humans, and dug herself a little burrow under the back step of an inn there, disguising it as best she could by dragging some nearby litter over the opening. The number of humans who disliked untidiness was smaller than the number who disliked rats, so she deemed it a worthwhile endeavor. Just to be sure, though, on her third day in the city Ritka dug a second tunnel out. She slept uneasy nights in the burrow, her tiny body curled tightly around itself to conserve warmth. Some of her dreams were of sleeping in a burrow of other rats - and some were human dreams, of family and then of fear, the former never without the latter.

The tavern, while clean-swept, wasn't the neatest of establishments, and as they often dumped their food waste in the alley Ritka didn't have to go far to scavenge. The taste of spoiled food had bothered her once, but no longer; though the way it lingered in her mouth no matter how many times she licked her teeth did keep her mind always on the goal: find Avalon, sell him her services, live a better and more comfortable life.

It was the thought of that that drove her into the inn one night - well, the thought, and the sound of someone singing 'Sailor, Sailor', a song she hadn't heard since leaving Afon. Ritka didn't get homesick often, or really at all, as she didn't have a home to long for - but that melody, and the happy off-key voices of the tavern patrons joining in, was one of the friendliest things she'd heard in a long time. So when one of the serving girls opened the door and stepped out for a breath of fresh air, Ritka scurried in between her feet. She hugged the wall as tightly as she could, glancing up at the towering humans moving around her, staying in shadows wherever available. A few glimpses of the innkeeper in the past had given her an impression of a no-nonsense woman, and she'd been chased out with a broom more than her fair share of times in her life.

She settled into the far corner of the bar, where it joined the wall and was most poorly lit, crouching down to watch and listen. From her hiding place she couldn't see the source of the music, but she could hear a clear voice and the notes of a harp among those singing along. The musician, whoever they were, was clearly skilled. To her sensitive ears, it was almost note-perfect. Ritka sat, perfectly still but for the twitching of her nose until the song finished. Then, as the tavern's patrons began to move and the musician played the opening notes of a new tune, she left her hiding place to run from table to table seeking scraps. The floor was reasonably clear of dirt, indicating that it had been swept recently, but with the room as full as it was that had probably been before the supper rush. True to her expectations, she found some small fragments of food littering the floor underneath most of the tables she could reach. With quick, nervous movements Ritka devoured fallen crumbs of bread, chunks of potato, and even a few dropped fragments of meat. All of it was fresher than anything she'd eaten in the last week, and richer than all the grains she had ever scavenged in the wild. A vision of herself, human, filling her stomach at a table groaning under the weight of the food it carried rose in her mind - she pushed it down, focusing on the situation at hand. Easier to feed the tiny body of a rat, and she still had no guarantee she would be able to find Avalon at all, let alone that he would accept her offer. Now was not the time to dream.

Having surveyed most of the tavern's floor, Ritka returned to her corner of the bar - to find the musician from earlier seated there, the harp on the floor leaning against the bar wall. She waited, studying the human as she'd learned to in her years as a spy. He was skinny, the shirt he wore draping in a way that suggested it had been sewn for a larger frame - maybe his; but then, maybe it'd been stolen. Shaggy white hair - that was unusual. She crept forward, sniffing curiously at the harp itself. Ritka had had little contact with musical instruments, but she'd seen fine wood before, and for all it was slightly worn that harp had the look. Interesting. The harpist shifted his weight slightly and Ritka startled, continuing in her path along the bar - wouldn't want to be seen as a threat to his instrument. Her nose twitched at the smell of dinner from above, and she scanned the floor under the bar for more food as hunger surged in her belly again. No luck.

There was a quiet sound behind her and she turned to see a chunk of bread, its edges wet with soup, and a hand retreating back above the bar counter. Ritka approached cautiously, but the smell overcame her and she dashed forward, sinking her teeth into the bread and turning around to bound for the back door with her prize. It was almost too large for her to carry, and she stumbled once, but made it safely back to her burrow. In the relative safety of her sleeping chamber she crouched over the bread, nibbling at its edges and savoring the uncommon richness of its taste. She fell asleep with a few tiny crumbs still in her whiskers, and her stomach fuller than it had been for a long while.

---

Ordinarily Ritka slept long hours, but the next day she was woken slightly after sunrise by loud voices and the rumbling of a cart being dragged through her alley. She crept out after it had passed, unable to settle the nerves that had been set jangling by the sudden noise. There was a lump of something in the middle of the alley, and after a quick glance in either direction she scurried out to examine it up close. It proved to be a shoe, though not of the ordinary workaday type most people she'd seen wore: this shoe had embroidery at the toe and around the top, and the leather's smell told her it had been recently oiled. The best wares, brought out for a special occasion, most likely. Something was going on in the city. And a large event meant opportunity. If she could collect dropped food and store it away, she'd have more time to search out information about Avalon. If there was dropped coin... ordinarily Ritka would have stolen clothes long before, but in the close quarters of the city she couldn't risk it. Coin that might be left in place of garments, though, gave her options. Whatever was going on, she decided, she needed to be there.