Chapter 49: Mysterious
A black cloaked figure walked into a small dusty town, keeping his gaze straight ahead, careful not to look at the locals. They were a very curious bunch, the whole lot of them. He’d been coming here once every week now but their stares hadn’t reduced in the slightest.
He ignored them, walking up to a tavern near the town square that served ale as readily as it served information. His entrance hushed the low murmur of conversations for a beat before the clinking of tankards and the scraping of plates resumed. He picked his usual spot at the counter and ordered a round of beer in a gruff voice.
The bartender’s lean, scaled arm slid into his view with practiced efficiency, delivering his drink.
He paused for a moment — the sight of the arm still threw him off. He hadn’t gotten used to it yet — the fact that everyone here had scales on their bodies to varying extents.
He picked up the mug and gulped it down in one go, earning a few whistles from some in the bar. He didn’t pay them any mind.
"Where’s Rita?" he asked as he stood up, dropping a few coins on the counter.
The bartender jerked his chin to the back without a word, like this was a regular occurrence.
The cloaked figure grunted in response, walking into the dim back corridor where the kitchen, ale storage and staff-only rooms were. As he moved by the kitchen’s open doorway, he spotted Rita with her sleeves rolled up, a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, kneading dough on a large wooden table.
He knocked loudly on the doorframe, startling her into a spin. A gasp slipped out of her mouth as she noted who it was, causing her to bark into laughter as she clutched her chest.
"Gods! How are you so light on your feet? One day you’ll give me a heart attack," she scolded with an exasperated smile that softened when she caught herself. She rarely smiled, but for him, it slipped out naturally.
She was a beauty, Rita. A homegirl. Plain and natural. Her face was freckled, her brown hair tied in a bun that exposed the scales running from her neck down to her spine, and covering her entire arms. Her pupils were slit like a reptile’s, and when she laughed, one could glimpse slightly serrated teeth and a normal-looking but longer tongue. Everything about her tied together perfectly, bringing a sense of fiery danger under her homely look.