Emery grunts in return to Jin's request to join everyone at The Armpit. His brow is set with determination as he hurriedly waves away Jin's kindness. He limps off through an alleyway before anyone can protest his absence.
Rand watches with amusement as Bjorn and Daccio hurry off to the remains of The Clover. He noticed Dete's glare when he addressed everyone as Callers. Clearly the tribesman is sensitive to the word, but if he is or isn't a Caller, Rand won't be announcing anything to the public any time soon.
He returns Dete's forced smile with a genuine one of his own. "I haven't visited them myself yet, but I'm told the butcher, general store, and blacksmith have all set up shop next to each other. You can find them further down the main street here."
Rand points behind him. You can see the three signs hanging from the buildings. The general store is advertised with a sign depicting an open chest filled with odds and ends. "I hope you're able to find what you need there."
Dete finds the general store easily. A little bell above the door jingles as he enters the shop. More than a few pieces of merchandise look out of place, as if they came from quite far away. The markings and depictions on the garments and pottery are not familiar to Dete.
An annoyed voice with a strange dialect barks from the back of the shop. "What do you want?!"
A short man wearing thick spectacles swipes aside the curtain hanging between the front and back of the shop. He is balding, with thick tufts of hair sticking out of the side of his head. His torso is just a little too long for his legs, giving them a short and stubby look. His feet, curiously, are wearing sandals made from a sort of reed. Very out of place in Treymara.
"Well?" His big eyes stare at Dete through his spectacles, seeming bothered by having a customer.
----
Bjorn and Daccio find the remains of The Clover a short walk away. The smell of charred wood sits heavy in the air. A stone chimney has fallen across the ruined frame. Warped and melted pots and pans sit in a pile in the corner.
It has been a few days since the fire by now, and any foot or paw prints from that night have long since been trampled over. No question Emery or nosy townspeople have already picked through the remains for anything worth saving.
Bjorn's prayer has an immediate effect. As the las word leaves his lips the circle of flames around him roars higher, reaching over his head. Through the wall of flame he sees The Clover intact. It is a world painted by fire. The thick beams crackle and snap as the flames hungrily engulf the building.
Atop the roof a mix of man and wolf howls loudly. As he does so a pack of wolves rear their heads out of the blaze and join in his call. The fire surges, causing the building to crumble beneath him. The beams finally having succumbed to the fire's wrath. The Caller leaps from the falling roof, clearing the wall and landing on the ground outside. A pack of fiery wolves similar to the ones that attacked before swarm behind him. He runs through a trail that leads away from Keep Yond and up into the hills. Bjorn can see the Caller's escape until it blinks out far above town.
The flames subside, and the charred remains of The Clover meet Bjorn's eyes once again.
In the meantime, Daccio's metal sense is tingling. The pile of pots and pans is obvious, and there are metal nails littering the ground. But there is something underneath a pile of beams that isn't like the rest. It is shaped like a short sword or a dagger. It might have belonged to whoever, did this to The Clover.
---
"Written inventory? I've got one stashed in the wagon somewhere." Mitoli leans in close to Jin's ear. "Mostly just for nosy guardsman and toll collectors, lad. The real list is up here." He points to his head and winks. Returning upright, He continues. "No, Jin, there isn't much out of the usual in those wagons." He glances around, making sure any guards nearby hear him. His voice is a tad too loud for normal conversation. "Bolts of cloth, spices, odds and ends. Picked up some nice rugs a few weeks ago."
Rand turns his head and looks back at Mitoli. "Not too many guards patrol this area with the sewers and all." He says, as if answering a question that no one had asked. "You'll see what I mean."
Rand unties his bandana and covers his nose and mouth with it. As they round a corner the smell of diluted refuse his everyone's nose. There is a building on the side of the hill with a short section of wall on the other side of the road. If you'd look over the wall you would see that an output pipe from the sewers empties out over the cliffs below. Rand quickens his pace and hurries to the door. It would be wise to filter in just as quickly.
Mitoli lets out a held in breath upon entering. "Light save me, why would anyone build something here?"
"Lands cheap!" A large man chuckles behind the bar. "Smells worse by the stables anyway. Here, snuff some of this."
The innkeep pushes a bowl of smoldering incense toward the caravan leader. Mitoli sniffs at the smoke lazily rising out of the bowl. His mustache swishes side to side as works it around his nose.
"Almost covers it all up." Mitoli says appreciatively.
"Almost..." Rand adds as he shakes out his bandanna.
"Aye, Rand. Who'er these folk ya brought with ya?" The innkeep asks.
"Trading caravan passing through town. We found them under attack by the beast in the hills. Made quick work of it thanks to the caravan guards and a few lucky travelers." He nods toward Mitoli and company. "Alec and his guards helped too, of course. He'll be stopping by later to settle up their tabs, Boris."
Boris had stopped wiping down the bar at mention of the beast. His brow is furrowed as he looks from face to face.
"And Alec sent you here for the night, eh?" His thick fingers drum on the bar.
"Light help me, I hope that thing doesn't do here what it did to The Clover. That damn Alec, can't put you all up at the keep with all them guards around. Oh no, Boris'll take care of 'em."
He pounds his meaty fist on the bar. "Hells, and that I will. I'll show ya some rooms in a minute. Y'all look thirsty. First round's coming up. Make yourselves comfortable."
"Much obliged!" Mitoli exclaims. For all the danger faced today the caravan leader is in exceptional spirits. He grabs a seat by the fireplace and awaits his ale. The inn is empty save for Mitoli and company.
"Now then, you two," he says addressing Afanen and Ragnar, "What do you think about this beast business? I'd much rather stay out of it, but we may have no choice on the matter."
Rand waves Jin over to the bar. He is leaning against it with a bowl of incense nearby. "You have a fighting style I haven't seen before. Where do you hail from?" He asks the young monk.
