- Messages
- 12
- Character Biography
- Link
Her breath misted in the air as she sat resting on a fallen stone nearly as large as she was. The thin alpine air didn't necessarily agree with her and the cold merely added insult to injury. She was not as in shape as she thought she was. Probably not a surprise, given where she had been.
The girl looked ahead. The road was cut into the side of a ridge, one pile of stone that looked much like the rest of them. The peaks marched away in every direction and faded into the blue distance, sharp air clear as glass. A trader's track, wide enough for a wagon with places where one could pull aside to allow others to pass.
Not that she could see why anyone would be out here, wherever here was.
Below, in the next valley between shoulders of stone, a village hugged the rugged land. It would probably have been beautiful if she hadn't been so bone-weary. Cute buildings of rough-cut stone and timber in amid pine trees, scattered round a swift-flowing creek with a narrow stone bridge. There were perhaps three dozen houses lining the road and climbing the valley sides.
One of the buildings had half a dozen wagons pulled up to it, horses still in the traces. The minstrel's heart lurched - maybe it was a place with rooms to let. A night spent indoor, with a roof over her head and a real bed to sleep in sounded divine.
With a weary sigh, she got back to her aching feet. At least it would all be downhill from here.
She entered, instrument case on her back and sheathed knives on her hip, into the common room of what must have been an inn, or at least what passed for one in such a rural place. In truth, it served as much as a community hall as anything else. It had rooms to let out to travelers coming through, or to locals that had stayed to late to safely return to their own homes. Often it was more the latter than the former. This place was more a wide spot on the road between bigger towns and villages. If not for the local mining, it wouldn't exist at all.
But at least it was cheap. She found herself a table, slipping the case from her back and leaning it up against it as she took a seat. She stood out a bit more than usual among the other patrons; her travel-stained clothes were quite different from the handful of armed men and women at the other tables in their leathers and steel. The merchants whose wagons were lined up outside sat apart from their hired blades at a table in the corner. There were a couple of locals in rough woolens at a table apart from the other two groups.
She was by herself, unremarked by any except the natives who looked at her just as suspiciously as they did the other transients.
All in all, there were only a half dozen tables and only two were empty. Alleria eyed the others with muted curiosity. It was mostly dulled by hunger and weariness; it had been weeks since she had been freed from captivity for the second time, and all that time had been spent trying to cross these mountains. She had elected to travel alone in the end.
Some days it was good to be in solitude. Others, less so.
She eyed the case and thought. Room and meals had not cost much, but she did not have much money. She had thought to ask if she could play for them, but that didn't suit her very well this evening. Being forced to play was not the same as doing it for love of the craft. Just then, tired as she was, she was still considering whether or not she would. An audience was an uncommon thing and even if she would never admit it aloud, she did enjoy the attention it brought.
The door from outside opened, and she looked up.
The girl looked ahead. The road was cut into the side of a ridge, one pile of stone that looked much like the rest of them. The peaks marched away in every direction and faded into the blue distance, sharp air clear as glass. A trader's track, wide enough for a wagon with places where one could pull aside to allow others to pass.
Not that she could see why anyone would be out here, wherever here was.
Below, in the next valley between shoulders of stone, a village hugged the rugged land. It would probably have been beautiful if she hadn't been so bone-weary. Cute buildings of rough-cut stone and timber in amid pine trees, scattered round a swift-flowing creek with a narrow stone bridge. There were perhaps three dozen houses lining the road and climbing the valley sides.
One of the buildings had half a dozen wagons pulled up to it, horses still in the traces. The minstrel's heart lurched - maybe it was a place with rooms to let. A night spent indoor, with a roof over her head and a real bed to sleep in sounded divine.
With a weary sigh, she got back to her aching feet. At least it would all be downhill from here.
She entered, instrument case on her back and sheathed knives on her hip, into the common room of what must have been an inn, or at least what passed for one in such a rural place. In truth, it served as much as a community hall as anything else. It had rooms to let out to travelers coming through, or to locals that had stayed to late to safely return to their own homes. Often it was more the latter than the former. This place was more a wide spot on the road between bigger towns and villages. If not for the local mining, it wouldn't exist at all.
But at least it was cheap. She found herself a table, slipping the case from her back and leaning it up against it as she took a seat. She stood out a bit more than usual among the other patrons; her travel-stained clothes were quite different from the handful of armed men and women at the other tables in their leathers and steel. The merchants whose wagons were lined up outside sat apart from their hired blades at a table in the corner. There were a couple of locals in rough woolens at a table apart from the other two groups.
She was by herself, unremarked by any except the natives who looked at her just as suspiciously as they did the other transients.
All in all, there were only a half dozen tables and only two were empty. Alleria eyed the others with muted curiosity. It was mostly dulled by hunger and weariness; it had been weeks since she had been freed from captivity for the second time, and all that time had been spent trying to cross these mountains. She had elected to travel alone in the end.
Some days it was good to be in solitude. Others, less so.
She eyed the case and thought. Room and meals had not cost much, but she did not have much money. She had thought to ask if she could play for them, but that didn't suit her very well this evening. Being forced to play was not the same as doing it for love of the craft. Just then, tired as she was, she was still considering whether or not she would. An audience was an uncommon thing and even if she would never admit it aloud, she did enjoy the attention it brought.
The door from outside opened, and she looked up.
