Chapter 218: Goblins
The Westfall Inn was warm and cheery, with a blazing fire in the hearth and customers at every table. The majority of the villagers were farmers, so there was little to do in the evenings save talk and eat, and the inn provided ample opportunity for both. A thick haze of smoke drifted about the ceiling, rushing to escape into the early spring night each time the door opened.
Boisterous talk and laughter, split by the occasional off-tune shanty, was unsettling, but I persevered and remained in the common room, unwilling to leave my new party without hearing the plans. Unfortunately, they seemed content to sit and chat well into the night, never truly arriving at the topic of the urgent request they accepted.
"So, Starlight, where did you say you were from?" Dyson asked, leaning casually on one hand. "Tana mentioned something about the Beast Kingdom, but-"
He winced, shooting Tana a glare. She returned a scathing look and shifted her weight forward, drawing another groan from Dyson.
"Tana," he said carefully, barely holding back a wince. "If you’d be so kind as to move your foot..."
"That’s enough of that," she hissed, and he winced again.
Ignoring her foot, he flashed me another smile. "I simply can’t help but get curious about such a mysterious, beautiful-agh, alright I get it!"
I shot the half-elf a grateful glance. From what I could tell, Dyson had fairly innocent intentions, but I couldn’t help but see Alex every time he spoke.
Rasce cleared his throat, opening his mouth for one of the first times since introducing himself. "I think what our silver-tongued friend is trying to say is that we know nothing about Starlight. I agreed to allow her into the party based on the fact that she’s a competent mage. Beyond telling stories of fantastical monsters, do you have any other useful abilities?"
I flinched at his barbed tone, my hands tightening on the folds of my skirt. "I can cast first-circle spells right now."
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for more, but I held my tongue. There was no guarantee my soul would recover to the point of allowing me more than that anytime soon, and making empty promises seemed a good way to destroy what little credibility my race and circumstances allowed me.