Sneaking In
Sneaking In
SPACE The sun has already set by the time you reach a large, wooden signpost on the road.
SPACE “Deepbush,” it reads in black painted lettering. “Population: 455”
SPACE “We’ll skirt the edge of town,” Cyrdan says. “No sense causing a big commotion.”
SPACE The group follows Cyrdan all the way from the southside of Deepbush to near a road that enters the town from the west. Here, a large tavern lies only twenty yards or so from the jungle’s brushline. Cain is already there, standing and peering around the corner of the building. He motions for the rest of the group to come forward.
SPACE “We’ll have to sneak in and up the stairs without being seen or else we’ll have to pay for the rest of you to stay here tonight,” he explains. The group makes its way to the front of the building and stops. There is a wooden staircase running up the front of the structure. Cain is already at the top of them, entering a door. A sign hangs over the front door of this place. “The Meaty Tusk, 'Slim' Robertson, Proprietor.”
SPACE Following Cyrdan’s lead, everyone makes their way up the wooden stairway and enters the door at its top.
SPACE Once inside, the group enters a foyer-type area. Several couches line the walls and a large fireplace on the opposite wall burns brightly. There is a figure curled up on one of the couches nearest the fire.
SPACE Cain is already closing the door to his room, Room 4, behind him. The click of a lock causes the figure on the couch to stir a bit.
SPACE Cyrdan sticks a key into the lock of Room1 and opens the door.
SPACE “We can all sleep in here tonight,” he whispers. “It’ll be a bit cramped, but its better than that cave.”
SPACE The figure on the couch wakes up and stands. It is an elf, judging by the size. The fireplace behind leaves the face cloaked in darkness, though the outline is decidedly female.
SPACE “Are you thieves?” she asks bluntly. Her voice is sort of rough and alto; it is surprisingly sexy.
SPACE “No, they are friends of mine,” Cyrdan quickly dismisses her suspicions. “They are staying with me tonight.”
SPACE “Oftly cramped, wouldn’t you say?” she counters.
SPACE “I’ll be sleeping out here on one of the couches,” he replies.
SPACE This seems to appease the woman, who curls back up on the couch.
SPACE “As I said, it’ll be tight, but— ”
SPACE “You can use my room as well,” the elven woman interrupts him without moving from the couch. “The door is open, if you want to use it.”
SPACE The group is astonished at the hospitality of the curled up woman. Apparently, she, too, is a patron of The Meaty Tusk. “M’lady, we are grateful for—”
SPACE The form sits up from the couch where she lay. “No worries, just be quiet so I can get back to sleep…”
SPACE Alliandra, Grant, and Garn enter Cyrdan’s room, spread out, and fall asleep where they land. Tharg, Conner, and Alasdair enter the stranger’s room, Room 3, and, leaving the door open, pass out, exhausted. Cyrdan thanks the stranger again, who dismisses him with a wave that says, ‘Leave me alone, I’m sleeping,’ and then takes the couch on the opposite side of the room.
SPACE The entire upper floor of “The Meaty Tusk” reverberates with the snores of so many exhausted survivors of the shipwreck Salty Death.
