[u][b]Gavinyarel: The Roxey Village, the Roxey Steakhouse -- 2 Midyear, 4E 201[/b][/u]


Gentle morning sunbeams crept across the sleeping Altmer's face, until he finally stirred from his light slumber.  He leaned up on one arm and cupped his eyes, rubbing them with his fingers.  A long yawn escaped his lips.  After standing and stretching, his mind woke up enough to remember the events of last night.

Gavinyarel hastily slipped on his boots and hurried downstairs in the hopes that he hadn't slept through the young lass's payment and departure.  He doubted she understood the extent of her injury, and even youthful bodies had their limits.  He knew that witchhunting wasn't the kind of profession to reward impatience or bravado...and he supposed that she'd have just become another number in the statistics of aspiring witchhunters that get themselves killed by going out of their depth, were it not for his rescue.  True, a crossbow and a bound dagger was more equipment than he'd seen on most aspirants, but even the best tools fail in inexperienced hands.  Heck, they sometimes failed even in masterful hands; he himself had faced certain death a few times during his career, and he'd learned painfully clearly that sometimes...all that separates one person's transcendence into the immortality of literature and song from another person's descent into nameless obscurity is sheer dumb luck.

An epiphany interrupted these musings when he was halfway down the stairs.  [i]Her crossbow!  Damn it...[/i]  In his haste to tend her wounds, he'd forgotten it at the cemetery.  He hoped she wouldn't be too accusatory, but such hope was feeble against the commonness of petty theft on the road.  All too often, allegations of people stealing misplaced items sparked needless brawls.

The elf made straight for the bar once downstairs, and, while relieved to see that the woman hadn't yet left, was taken aback by her boisterousness.  In all her youthful spite of her body's condition, she appeared to demanding the bounty that'd been put on the zombie.

[i]Well, I hate to ruin your little celebration, Miss, but I don't work for free whenever I can help it...[/i]  "Hold on a moment there.  You seem to be forgetting something, Miss."  He tried to sound as little confrontational as possible, but he wanted those coins.