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Altered Tundra
Hope Lover
Yankee
Supermaxx
Half Pint
Mole
ErsatzEmpress
Natty
spooner
Heat
The First Chapter! A New World?
The Swimming Sage was a moderately sized tavern and innhouse for a fishing village on the outskirts of the Addan province.
For those traveling from Githameire to Keldane it was about the midway point with only a few towns and villages left in the vale. It had four bedrooms above its sturdy bar room and hosted very few travelers on the average day save for the patrols from the local garrison at Fort Galla in the Eeleise Mountains. From what Mako could tell there were only a handful of men and women taking up gossip and food when she entered. They were likely all locals.
As she sat waiting for her food, two children looked at her from across the room with wonderment, though they were too shy to approach.
“Another one.” She could hear whispers of. “Another soldier.”
“That’s no soldier, that’s a warden.”
These words were hushed by the adults eventually, though the children’s gaze remained. Soon enough such distractions were removed from sight and mind with the sound and smell of a plate of food being plopped in front of her. Fried fish with some arrangement of herbs and spices. A mash of some grain (potatoes? Maize?), an assortment of vegetables, and a pitcher of water with a tankard. The bar matron quickly poured the water in and gave them good manners.
“W-we thought everyone to be–” She paused, “–ahem, ah, I’m sorry m’lady. It’s just we have seen so few survivors. We thought the worst. If you need anything else, let me know.”
For those traveling from Githameire to Keldane it was about the midway point with only a few towns and villages left in the vale. It had four bedrooms above its sturdy bar room and hosted very few travelers on the average day save for the patrols from the local garrison at Fort Galla in the Eeleise Mountains. From what Mako could tell there were only a handful of men and women taking up gossip and food when she entered. They were likely all locals.
As she sat waiting for her food, two children looked at her from across the room with wonderment, though they were too shy to approach.
“Another one.” She could hear whispers of. “Another soldier.”
“That’s no soldier, that’s a warden.”
These words were hushed by the adults eventually, though the children’s gaze remained. Soon enough such distractions were removed from sight and mind with the sound and smell of a plate of food being plopped in front of her. Fried fish with some arrangement of herbs and spices. A mash of some grain (potatoes? Maize?), an assortment of vegetables, and a pitcher of water with a tankard. The bar matron quickly poured the water in and gave them good manners.
“W-we thought everyone to be–” She paused, “–ahem, ah, I’m sorry m’lady. It’s just we have seen so few survivors. We thought the worst. If you need anything else, let me know.”
