The evening was coming to a close all too quickly. The guests in the tavern of her inn had driven her to the brink of madness and Rysa simply could take no more of the bantering and arguing and brewing brawls. So she handed the reigns to Silvan, her assistant, for the rest of the night and went out for some fresh air.
She hadn't brought her coin purse with her, but after about an hour of walking, she couldn't resist looking around in her favorite stores. Rysa felt her drab garments which were once black, but were now grey from wear, had grown too boring. She immediately regret not bringing coins with her when she left.
Rysa had strolled around town until the sun had finally set and the stars covered the sky like a blanket. The
elven woman smiled at the sight before dipping into a nearby pub for a drink or two. Soon, two became three, and three became four, and she was lucky her alcohol tolerance was higher than most or she would be passed out on the molding floor of a pub she didn't even know the name of.
Deciding she was done with the amount of drooling men and giggling women, Rysa took one last swig of her ale and gathered herself before starting her walk back to the inn. That's when she noticed it. A storefront so unique she was surprised she had missed it on her way up.
The windows displayed rows and rows of what was essentially nothing at all, but this nothing intrigued Rysa. Particularly, the enchanted stones that seemed to be calling her name. They would make fine pieces of jewelry is shaped the right way. The elf could hear them calling for her, "Rysa..., Rysa..."
She pressed her fingertips against the glass, trying to reach out to the stones, wanting them to pull her in. Suddenly, she shook her head and jerked her hand away. She was drunk. So drunk she was hearing voices. She needed to get home.
Rysa stuffed her hands into the worn pockets of her skirt and turned to walk away from the store. She counted the number of stones blocks under her feet as she went. Ten. She had made it ten steps before abruptly spinning on her heel and speedily returning to the storefront. She gripped the door handle and pushed her way inside.
And she was glad she did.
The store seemed to stretch into oblivion; she couldn't even see the back wall. But that was probably due to the sheer amount of treasure lining every inch of it. Swords and shields and golden statues. Goblets and gemstones and silk.
Rysa had stepped straight into the den of a dragon.
