Seeing Elara's fear, Zara moved to comfort her, but Jax caught her arm, silently signaling her to stay back. Kaelen caught Jax's eye and gave a sharp, appreciative nod. In a protective stance, he wrapped an arm around Elara, pulling her close. "No need to be afraid," he whispered into her ear, "I'm here, aren't I?" Elara kept her gaze lowered but leaned into him, nodding softly.
On the other side, the half-orc scratched its head in confusion, unable to understand what was happening. Kaelen reached for his hood to reveal himself to the Half-Orc, but he raised a massive greyish hand to stop him. The giant simply nodded and pulled the heavy door open, giving them entry into the Whispering Door.
Outside the sun had not yet set, but inside it was already midnight. The air was thick with the scent of cheap ale and unwashed bodies. Rowdy patrons in ragged leathers and long hoods crowded the space; their faces were hardly visible in the flickering gloom. Barmaids were hurriedly darting between tables like fish in dark water. Every table felt like an isolated island; at some, five or six heads were huddled so close they seemed glued together. They seemed to be speaking in hushed whispers, suggesting dark plots were being conjured in the smoke.
At the very next table, the atmosphere was completely opposite. Men in flamboyant, travel-stained clothing were roaring with laughter, boasting of exploits that sounded far too grand for a dockside pub.
There was one such table in the far corner. The eight people there were completely covered in dark robes; however, they were laughing and shouting in joy, which was a sharp contrast to their attire. A barmaid was standing among them, laughing at their tales and tossing her hair. The patrons seemed to be in a spending mood, tossing coins onto her tray like they had hit a jackpot recently.
Kaelen found himself staring at her. "She is... charming," he murmured to Jax. Jax scanned the girl with a predator's efficiency. "She isn't human," he replied flatly. To their surprise, the girl instantly glanced back at Jax- as if she'd heard him over the roar of the room- before promptly returning to her work of entertaining her prized patrons. Zara and Elena, however, were in no mood for distractions. Lorian could feel the temperature between the two women drop; they were clearly unimpressed.
Lorian's eyes scanned the bar counter for Grisel Gabon, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Despite their disguises, their group stood out, for they were standing by the door too long, acting too watchful, and the eyes of the room were beginning to drift toward them.
The barmaid from before signaled a colleague. A second girl approached the gang with a guarded expression. "How may I help you, sirs and ladies?" she asked in a very professional tone. Kaelen straightened his posture, trying to sound authoritative, "We're here to see your boss, Master Gabon."
The girl's face darkened for a fleeting second, "I am terribly sorry, sir. We are at capacity. You should leave and return in the morning." Kaelen started to protest, but the girl didn't give him the chance. "Brot!" she called out.
The massive half-orc from before stepped inside; his shadow was looming over them. "Escort these gentlemen outside," she commanded. Brot, however, shook his head in denial. In his low guttural voice, he rumbled, "Give table corner. Inform boss." He gave Lorian's group a respectful nod and again stepped back outside.
The barmaid was stunned, but she followed the bouncer's lead, guiding them through the crowd to a secluded corner table. It was perfect- shrouded in shadow, yet offering a clear view of the entire room. After a few minutes, Grisel Gabon appeared from the gloom. He was clever enough not to bow or draw suspicion. He simply pulled up a chair and sat.
He started, "My Lord, forgive me, I have not yet…."
"Change the subject," Lorian interrupted, "My head is jammed, and I need a distraction. I came here to unwind, nothing more." Grisel and the others blinked in surprise. They had expected a strategic briefing on Valoria, not a request for a drink.
"Bring your strongest," Lorian commanded. Grisel signaled a waitress, and soon a tray of heavy mugs arrived. As they began to drink, Grisel leaned into the center of the table. He gave a subtle tilt of his head toward the table where the hooded men in robes were still celebrating.
"My Lord," Grisel whispered, darting his eyes, "Those men... they are Black Riders."
Lorian raised an eyebrow, the name meaning nothing to him. But Kaelen and Elara stiffened. Kaelen leaned toward Lorian's ear, "My Lord, they are a treacherous gang of marauders. They haunt the woodlands between Veridia and Valoria... right where the Stormhold entourage was ambushed."
Grisel nodded grimly, "They rarely enter the city. They usually can't afford the price of the ale here. But today..."
"Today they are spending like there is no tomorrow," Lorian finished, his eyes were narrowing. Jax spoke up in a low voice, "How can you be sure? Their hoods are pulled low."
"Because a hood can't hide orcish blood if you know where to look," a sweet, melodic voice chimed in. It was the barmaid from the Riders' table. She stood there with an empty tray, smiling down at them. She looked entirely human to the untrained eye, but she nodded toward the Riders. There were now only four. Two of them were speaking to each other; two others seemed to be passed out. The girl continued, "Also, they won't stop talking about the 'Great Success' that filled their purses."
"Interesting," Lorian murmured, his expression darkened, "And who might you be?"
Grisel patted the girl's back, a rare flash of pride crossing his rugged face, "Ah, my Lord. This is my daughter Fawn,- Fawnia Gabon."
Kaelen looked at Jax; his eyes were full of suspicion, And you said she was a beastman! Jax and Zara were both staring at her, perplexed. Grisel noticed the tension, "Is there a problem?"
"No offense intended, Master Gabon," Zara said, stepping in for Jax, "but Jax and I... we were certain she was a beastman. Like us."
Fawnia instinctively touched her voluminous red hair, smoothing it down. Grisel's face turned a sickly shade of gray, "Well... if you don't mind me asking... what exactly made you think that?"
Kaelen and Elara felt a growing weight of awkwardness as the conversation was moving towards a direction they weren't prepared for. They feared Grisel might take offense. Beastmen did not have ability to grasp the finer nuisances of conversation with a human, resulting in hurting feelings of Grisel. But Lorian did not intervene. He remained perfectly still, as he could sense a different kind of unease that was radiating from both Grisel and the girl.
"Actually, we Beastmen have our senses tuned a bit higher than yours, Master Gabon- especially our sense of smell," Jax said, his gaze was now fixated on Fawnia; "After living among humans for so long, we had been used to your scent. But after so many days the old familiar scent again hit our senses. A fellow Beastman's scent, coming right from her."
Grisel stayed silent for a long moment, his thick finger tracing a slow, circular motion along the rim of his mug. He took a deep breath and then offered a sharp, gloomy smile.
"Heightened senses. Right," Grisel murmured, "I'll keep that in mind. Appreciate the lesson, Master Jax, Miss Zara." he looked toward Fawnia and gave a short, commanding nod.
The girl hesitated, then reached up to press her voluminous hair down. As the locks shifted, the tip of antlers were revealed, "I'm a stag Beastman," she spoke, her voice shy but steady under the tavern's dim light.
"I never realized you were married, Master Gabon," Elara spoke up, in a voice which was a mix of surprise and confusion, "You never really gave off that..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Vibe?" Lorian offered, completing the thought. Elara bowed her head in a silent gesture of gratitude.
"You're not wrong, My Lady," Grisel said, his tone turning grim as the shadows in the corner seemed to lengthen, "I was never married. In truth, I'm the reason her mother is dead."