Breakfast was indeed already in the works as Coatlque dragged her feet through the door. The smell of some kind of spiced meat had begun to fill the bottom floor of the inn. She would have been tempted to stop there first if she wasn't so tired. Ninne spied her over a recipe card as she stired something around a bowl. "Tilda? Is that you? You look awful!"
"Ninne!" she replied with half a smile. "Would that I could sit and chat tonight... I need a bunk is all. Someplace to rest before light comes."
"Well, you best scurry if you're hoping to beat the light! Ten gil for the night then."
Coatleque promptly counted out the appropriate coin which was swept up into Ninne's apron before making her way upstairs. The public room would do for a one night stay with no amenities. Passing a tall, dark man by the door, she collapsed onto the first available bed after nearly tripping over the footboard. She gripped the blanket in one hand and all but drifted off before being wretched back to consciousness by a gruff voice by the hearth.
"Juline! When is the chirurgeon returning? You said he would be here by morning."
She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head in an attempt to ignore the man.
"I don't care how many knights are waiting. You owe me a favor! Or are we not 'friends' any longer?! Fucking GET him, Juline!"
The pillow was flung back to the headboard and she rolled over to prop herself up on one arm. "Do you MIND?!" she muttered weak yet harshly.
"Piss off." The man hissed as he re-entered the room and crossed to his own rented bed. He hoisted a bag from the floor as he sat, and then began to roll the sleeve of one arm up to reveal a heavy blood-stained bandage beneath.
"Is that how you always address strangers?"
"It's how I address cunts who can't mind their own business." he growled.
She frowned angrily. "You chose the public bunk just as I did. If your business was so private, you should have taken the room." Coatleque rolled over now and sat up on the edge of the bed. Since there was no sleeping just yet, she figured it would be more comfortable to remove some of her armor at least. She regarded the strange man as she began to untie her gauntlets one at a time. An Elezen, tall and lithe with a brooding countenance. Storm-blue hair matted down above his pale eyes. His beared trimmed quite immaculately into a pointed shape. He had since began to unwrap the bandage.
"I said piss off." He growled again. Removing the bandage revealed a poorly stitched wound on his forarm, probably something he did himself and in haste. Her eyes could not help but to examine it from afar.
"That looks bad."
"Yes, it is bad. Don't ever get wounded in this fucking place unless you're a knight."
As her second gauntlet came free, Coatleque flexed her right hand absently. "If it is any consolation, I know how you feel."
"A consolation would be the chirurgeon showing up!"
She turned away from him, sliding herself back up onto the bed to sit leaning against the headboard. The man had began to re-wrap the wound with fresh linen in the mean time. "What happened to you anyway?" She finally inquired.
"Dzemael cunts is what happened." He growled. "I'm done with Ishgard. Too bloody cold, and I don't get paid enough for this shite."
"Dzemael? Soldiers?" Her head tilted as she feigned interest.
"Not soldiers." His eyes rolled then narrowed and focused on her. "What's it to you, anyway?"
"I thought we were just two travellers swapping tales before bed. If you prefer to sit in pain alone till morning, no skin off my back." Her shoulders shrugged back against the headboard. Coatleque leaned forward again to stand. "You are leaving the north then?"
"Yes, and you will to if you have any brains." He grunted and pulled the bandage tight to fasten it, all the while muttering curses to Dzemael. Coatleque managed a few steps to the door and scanned the room warily. Her nose wrinkled.
"How long have you been waiting to have that tended?"
"Two fucking days."
"I can tell."
The man furrowed his brows at his own arm. "You think it looked bad?" The sternness of his voice fled away momentarily and she almost took pity on him.
"Looked alright for a field dressing, but smells wrong. Dzemael did that?"
He stood and nodded, looking a tad paler than before. "Followed me from Falcon's Nest. Had to be them. I'm sure of it. Armor had that little cart thing on it. They'll be sorry." His voice trailed off to another series of mutterings as he began stuffing his sundries back into his bag. Throwing his own cloak about his shoulders he finally turned to leave. "JULINE! Where the fuck IS he?!"
As he passed the paladin leaning on the door jam, she yawned and gestered absently. "Ashame. S'not your dice arm is it?"
Thaelys Swiftblade stopped and turned, smiling suddenly. His voice lowered, calmed from before. His pale eyes narrowed upon her. "Why no, friend, how did you know I was fond of dice?"
"Travellers hear many tales abroad, 'friend'." She returned his stare from under her bangs and crossed her arms trying to appear rather unimpressed though he could not hear her heart racing. "Oh, what now? Going to gut some poor traveller in the middle of an in over a perceived slight?"
He laughed coldly and moved a step closer. "Of course not. Don't be silly, 'friend'. But you have piqued my curiosity now. Just what tale did you hear?"
"Nothing impressive," she scoffed. "A tall, striking elezen with dagger shaped beared and horrendous luck was fleeced pretty badly by the guards."
"I see. And you," he gestured to the room "came to see if the man was as striking as the stories say?"
"Me? Oh no, I simply have better luck it seems."
"Oh? And why is that?"
It was then she uncrossed her arms, pulling Tamsin's good luck charm from a pocket it and dangling it by the ribbon before him. "Because it was given to me."
That stopped him in his tracks. He gave her one look as if she was daft, then laughed. He laughed and laughed and managed to choke out "May it continue for you then, friend.", then continued laughing down the stairs and out to the stable. Coatleque almost laughed after him, but it turned to a yawn mid-chuckle. She pocketed the charm again and returned to bed.
"Ninne!" she replied with half a smile. "Would that I could sit and chat tonight... I need a bunk is all. Someplace to rest before light comes."
"Well, you best scurry if you're hoping to beat the light! Ten gil for the night then."
Coatleque promptly counted out the appropriate coin which was swept up into Ninne's apron before making her way upstairs. The public room would do for a one night stay with no amenities. Passing a tall, dark man by the door, she collapsed onto the first available bed after nearly tripping over the footboard. She gripped the blanket in one hand and all but drifted off before being wretched back to consciousness by a gruff voice by the hearth.
"Juline! When is the chirurgeon returning? You said he would be here by morning."
She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head in an attempt to ignore the man.
"I don't care how many knights are waiting. You owe me a favor! Or are we not 'friends' any longer?! Fucking GET him, Juline!"
The pillow was flung back to the headboard and she rolled over to prop herself up on one arm. "Do you MIND?!" she muttered weak yet harshly.
"Piss off." The man hissed as he re-entered the room and crossed to his own rented bed. He hoisted a bag from the floor as he sat, and then began to roll the sleeve of one arm up to reveal a heavy blood-stained bandage beneath.
"Is that how you always address strangers?"
"It's how I address cunts who can't mind their own business." he growled.
She frowned angrily. "You chose the public bunk just as I did. If your business was so private, you should have taken the room." Coatleque rolled over now and sat up on the edge of the bed. Since there was no sleeping just yet, she figured it would be more comfortable to remove some of her armor at least. She regarded the strange man as she began to untie her gauntlets one at a time. An Elezen, tall and lithe with a brooding countenance. Storm-blue hair matted down above his pale eyes. His beared trimmed quite immaculately into a pointed shape. He had since began to unwrap the bandage.
"I said piss off." He growled again. Removing the bandage revealed a poorly stitched wound on his forarm, probably something he did himself and in haste. Her eyes could not help but to examine it from afar.
"That looks bad."
"Yes, it is bad. Don't ever get wounded in this fucking place unless you're a knight."
As her second gauntlet came free, Coatleque flexed her right hand absently. "If it is any consolation, I know how you feel."
"A consolation would be the chirurgeon showing up!"
She turned away from him, sliding herself back up onto the bed to sit leaning against the headboard. The man had began to re-wrap the wound with fresh linen in the mean time. "What happened to you anyway?" She finally inquired.
"Dzemael cunts is what happened." He growled. "I'm done with Ishgard. Too bloody cold, and I don't get paid enough for this shite."
"Dzemael? Soldiers?" Her head tilted as she feigned interest.
"Not soldiers." His eyes rolled then narrowed and focused on her. "What's it to you, anyway?"
"I thought we were just two travellers swapping tales before bed. If you prefer to sit in pain alone till morning, no skin off my back." Her shoulders shrugged back against the headboard. Coatleque leaned forward again to stand. "You are leaving the north then?"
"Yes, and you will to if you have any brains." He grunted and pulled the bandage tight to fasten it, all the while muttering curses to Dzemael. Coatleque managed a few steps to the door and scanned the room warily. Her nose wrinkled.
"How long have you been waiting to have that tended?"
"Two fucking days."
"I can tell."
The man furrowed his brows at his own arm. "You think it looked bad?" The sternness of his voice fled away momentarily and she almost took pity on him.
"Looked alright for a field dressing, but smells wrong. Dzemael did that?"
He stood and nodded, looking a tad paler than before. "Followed me from Falcon's Nest. Had to be them. I'm sure of it. Armor had that little cart thing on it. They'll be sorry." His voice trailed off to another series of mutterings as he began stuffing his sundries back into his bag. Throwing his own cloak about his shoulders he finally turned to leave. "JULINE! Where the fuck IS he?!"
As he passed the paladin leaning on the door jam, she yawned and gestered absently. "Ashame. S'not your dice arm is it?"
Thaelys Swiftblade stopped and turned, smiling suddenly. His voice lowered, calmed from before. His pale eyes narrowed upon her. "Why no, friend, how did you know I was fond of dice?"
"Travellers hear many tales abroad, 'friend'." She returned his stare from under her bangs and crossed her arms trying to appear rather unimpressed though he could not hear her heart racing. "Oh, what now? Going to gut some poor traveller in the middle of an in over a perceived slight?"
He laughed coldly and moved a step closer. "Of course not. Don't be silly, 'friend'. But you have piqued my curiosity now. Just what tale did you hear?"
"Nothing impressive," she scoffed. "A tall, striking elezen with dagger shaped beared and horrendous luck was fleeced pretty badly by the guards."
"I see. And you," he gestured to the room "came to see if the man was as striking as the stories say?"
"Me? Oh no, I simply have better luck it seems."
"Oh? And why is that?"
It was then she uncrossed her arms, pulling Tamsin's good luck charm from a pocket it and dangling it by the ribbon before him. "Because it was given to me."
That stopped him in his tracks. He gave her one look as if she was daft, then laughed. He laughed and laughed and managed to choke out "May it continue for you then, friend.", then continued laughing down the stairs and out to the stable. Coatleque almost laughed after him, but it turned to a yawn mid-chuckle. She pocketed the charm again and returned to bed.
