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His stomach roiled at the sudden movement, threatening to bring up all of the sweet mead he had drunk over the night. Dice had never loved him and now, he was sure he could hear them cackling in glee. The little bastards have favored that young pup the church fathers had saddled him with. Or had he just drunk more of that mead in victory? He couldnāt really remember. There had been the dicing, drinking, jokes, more drinking, something about the barmaid, a few more drinks, then it got really fuzzy. Maybe he had won the game.
The Anorian couldnāt remember trying to sit down but suddenly he was flat on his back, the chair tripped over next to him and the rushes were in his hair. A chuckle bubbled out of his chest and quickly turned into a great, full-bodied laugh, which lasted several minutes. As the echoes of his irrational joy faded, the big man simply rolled over and began to snore.
Julius awoke to a burst of light and pain. Someone, most likely the innkeep, had open the innās door and the morningās sun had blasted him with itās full fury. Clapping a hand over his eyes and pressed to his aching head, he stumbled to his feet and over to the darkest corner in the common room. His bladder felt full to bursting but there was one way in heaven or hell that he was going to go outside to find the privy. With a groan, he placed his head down on the table in front of him and tried to block out the light with his arms.
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Not so for Julius, it would seem. Though her impassive expression never really changed, she was somewhat amused to see the leader of their merry little bloodsucker-slaying band pass out on the floor. She considered trying to help him out, but their comparative body weights would likely make any such efforts in vain anyway. Instead, she spared the still-conscious a brief nod, and followed her teacher upstairs. A hot bath and some woolen blankets later, and she was well away from the waking world.
The next morning, she was up before Hilde was, though she had left an herbal hangover remedy on the woman's bedside table, just in case. She passed Julius, still apparently unconscious, wincing as she considered that this was likely not an ideal position to be sleeping in. Perhaps the rest of them might need some help waking up, too. She checked on everyone's horses and equipment, making sure nothing was fraying at the edges, and then tossed the stableboy leaning against the wall a coin, promising another if he had all the beasts ready to go in the next half-hour. A rather large task for one person, perhaps, but possible with the right motivation.
That accomplished, then, she headed back inside to see about breakfast. Julius was gone, but the innkeeper was up and about, and gave her a nod as she walked up to his counter. "Any chance our fee includes breakfast?" she asked, trying to infuse her tone with more pleasantness than was usually present. Esther wasn't what anyone would call terribly expressive.
The man contemplated for a second, then glanced at the table they'd occupied last night and shook his head, chuckling. "Why not? It seems as though your friends are going to need it." Esther knew that they had paid more than enough in alcohol the previous night to more than cover the cost of breakfast, but she was at least glad he wasn't going to insist otherwise.
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Stefan stopped in front of the bar. He pulled out his wallet, which apparently had been slightly replenished with money. What in the name of hell did he do last night? He vaguely remembered others playing cards in the corner last night. Did he win money? Either way, at least he had some cash.
Stefan's method of coping involved imbibing copious amounts of hot tea, which hadn't been proven to help, but it did for the friar himself thought the effects were quite soothing. Luckily, it didn't cost much at the inn as a special kind of herbal sage grew in these parts. Placing his seventh cup down, he tapped the table, and the bartender wisely placed three more glasses. His mouth felt like it had been razed by fire, and his headache was slowly growing more and more distant.
It was then he grew aware of the area around him. He had not seen Hilde, nor Dynn yet. Not only that, the bartender kindly gave back the money Stefan paid for the tea. He had a sneaking suspicion a woman was involved. Most shocking of all, instead of the friar himself waking on the floor it was the huntsmaster- Julius himself. The poor guy couldn't hold his liquor after all. Stefan's personal pride was so strong, he probably stood himself up in his drunken state and hobbled up the stairs to a random room that was open. He paused. He was fairly sure that room wasn't his, though it might have been unlocked.
If he had accidentally slept with Dynn...
No, that couldn't be. The young lad was too busy fondling the barmaid's rear. Being the least-drunk man, he could have been sober enough to try and sweet-talk her to his room. He was plenty sure he didn't accidentally burst into Hilde's room and slept with her, because as far as he knew, he was unhurt in any way, shape, or form. The thought of it sent shivers up the friar's spine.
He was in no condition for an early-morning practice session, and it was also too late for one. Either way, he walked upstairs, going into his room. He realized he hadn't used his room, and that his bags were still on the horse. He never owned many possessions. He grabbed a clean cloth hung on a chair and went outside. The brisk air made him shiver, his body unused to the cool feeling after stuck in the hot inn for an entire night.
He washed himself quickly, taking the wet cloth and scrubbing himself all over. Drying himself soon after that, he put his clothes back on and lounged near the front of the inn. If he went into the rather warm inn that quickly, it would unbalance his temperature and render him sick. He began waiting for his body to radiate enough heat to warm the clothes he wore.
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"Mm...n-not here..." Sheila said in a breathy whisper.
Dynn smirked, slowly drawing his teeth away from the lass's neck and even more reluctantly removing his hand from under her skirts. He quirked an eyebrow in question. "Then where, my fire-haired minx?"
The ivory-skinned girl grasped her partner's hand and quickly pulled him out of the kitchen to the stairs leading up to the guest rooms. Normally he would have been panicked by the possiblity of one of his new comrades catching a glimpse of this side of him, but at the moment his booze-addled mind only processed the change of scenery as a bed to do the deed on instead of a hardwood counter. It was all he could do to keep from snickering at the thought of 'hardwood'.
Soon enough Sheila had brought them into a the only dark room she could find. All the others had at least a candle lit and snoring emanating from within, but not this one. Quiet as a church mouse. In moments the pair were entangled in a steamy mess of meshed limbs, lovebites and kisses. A few more stumbling steps had them on the bed where, for some reason, Sheila had broken their embrace. Feeling rather alone in the darkness, Dynn waited a couple seconds for his lover to return before getting impatient and reaching for her himself. Their lips met again and he recalled grasping her backside...firmer and more rounded than he remembered, but lovely none the less.
Then she recoiled, snarled and slugged him in the eye. The world had gone black after that.
"Wait..." Tentatively, as if willing what his fears were telling him not to be true, Dynn looked up at the door. It was the room belonging to Hilde and Esther. The young man was slumped agains their door in the hallway, where he had passed out--or been tossed out. Piecing it together, the most likely scenario involved him locking lips with his senior hunter and being throttled for it... "Damn it all."
Dynn stood up, dusted himself off and made his way back to his own room to bath and shower. Hopefully Hilde wouldn't be too angry...it was almost too much of an effort to care about the situation, considering how much his face hurt. That broad had a wicked right hook.
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She settled for the promise of making his life as miserable as possible without actually killing him. A wicked grin slowly spread its way across her face, even as her eye twitched with the rhythmic pounding that reverberated inside her skull. Gray eyes drifted about the room, alighting on her bedside table, currently holding a mug of something hot and pungent-smelling. Ah, Esther was a good child indeed... wait. Had she witnessed any of the rather ridiculous escapades of the night previous? Hilde recalled the girl helping her into bed, then crawling into the other narrow mattress herself, apparently dead to the world. It was when she'd caught the sounds of someone- two someones, as it turned out- barging into their room that she'd managed to rouse her drunken self, in enough time to get felt up and kissed (if you could call it that) by the new pointer.
And then she'd done what any other reasonable person would have done in the same situation- she'd laid him out on the floor, kicked his sorry carcass outside her door and slammed it with as much force as her alcohol-deadened limbs could muster. Which was quite a bit indeed. There was no way Esther had missed all of that. Ah, well. One more person to assist her in sweet revenge, then, since the girl just so happened to be under her orders.
But first things first. She was in need of a bath, which was conveniently located behind a screen in their room, and a meal. The latter turned out to be on the house, which was strange since she could have sworn that was not in the terms of whatever Julius had paid. Whatever; she wasn't about to turn it down. There was another long day of riding to be had ahead, anyway. After shoveling down what food there was to be had and downing that nasty herbal remedy, she decided she was more than ready to go, and headed out to the stable.
To her surprise, the horses were saddled and ready to go. Shrugging, she swung up on hers and awaited the rest of their little party.
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Cursing the sun for the first time in his life, the Anorian slunk back into the inn and when to his room. Fighting through the pounding in his head, the big man changed out of last nightās clothing and into a fresh set of what could be called his standard uniform. Another black shirt, a less stained pair of tan trousers and some clean stockings. His leather jerkin and fine hat happened to have escaped damage last night, as he taken both off and left them upon the bed. His boots were not so fortunate but that couldnāt be help.
He then stumbled down into the common room and glared at the innkeep, until the man sent over a plate of eggs and bacon, with a mug full of a weak tea. The food help but it was the tea that really suppressed the headache, for it was mostly water and thatās what his body really needed. While he broke his fast, Julius ignored everyone else in the common room and seemed to emit a field of unfriendliness. When his head felt like it was only throbbing, the Master Hunter placed a small bag of silver coins on the bar, as a bonus for any trouble they caused and went back to his room, to fetch his saddlebags.
Emerging from the inn, the Anorian was pleased to fins the horses saddled and ready to depart. He was even more surprised to find Hilde already mounted. Wincing in the light, he placed the bags over his saddle and swung up.
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As she chewed, Esther tried to figure out why she'd had to step over Dynn on her way out the door that morning. She remembered seeing Julius fall over as she followed Hilde up the stairs the previous evening, but at that time the younger man had seemed to be perhaps the most sober of the lot. She vaguely recalled some odd sounds in her room last night, and she could have sworn there was some kind of dream about Hilde beating someone up. Wait... had Dynn been in that dream? She certainly hoped not. That would just be... weird.
Shaking her head, she drained her water- not being particularly in need of tea herself, and not too fond of it besides- and glanced around. The stableboy should have the horses ready by now, and Julius and Hilde were both gone already, and unless she missed her guess, the friar was just outside. Making eye contact with the innkeeper, then, she spoke again.
"Thank you kindly, sir. If I could ask one last favor of you?" At the man's raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "When the... winner of last night's festivities makes his way down here, could you make sure he gets some tea with this in it, breakfast or no?" Removing a leaf from a belt-pouch, she slid it across the counter. It was the same kind she used for Hilde's brew, and would help deaden the pain of whatever had seen him unconscious outside their door that morning.
The innkeeper regarded her speculatively. "I'll be honest with ya, miss, you didn't seem the type to be so underhanded in revenge." He shook his head, but took the leaf anyway. "This won't kill 'im, will it? I'm all for letting young ladies like yerself get back at 'em, but I won't be responsible for a dead man, no matter what he did to ya."
Esther blinked, before slowly turning several darkening shades of pink as she recognized what he was implying. "N-no, it's nothing like that!" The man was clearly unconvinced, and she decided the explanation probably wasn't worth it. "It won't kill him," she finished with resignation. Honestly. She smoothed her features back into their characteristic passivity. Whoever had decided that such things had to be the only way to get under her skin quite so easily was really going to get it someday.
She left the room with as much dignity as she could muster, and headed back outside. The stableboy was in the same place, and she passed him another coin before seeking out her horse and checking him over before mounting.
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It took an act of willpower to remove himself from the water and it's comforts, but the bath was already beginning to cool and being sick on a hunt wouldn't do at all. The young man dressed quickly, armed himself and pulled up his hood before exiting the room. He'd made sure to tidy up and gather his personal effects before vacating. Almost running down the stairs Dynn had almost overlooked the innkeeper who was waving him over. The older man explained the situation and reiterated that the now cooled tea sitting on the counter was meant for him, and in no way poisoned. Or so he'd been told. Being informed that the stuff had been brewed by a witch didn't help the cause either. It only took a moment to come to a decision.
"I'll pass, thank you. I left a couple silvers for Sheila's tip, please do make sure she gets them." Without any further comment Dynn exited the establishment.
The innkeeper stared after the boy as he departed with a knowing smile. "I don't blame ya kid. Wouldn't drink anything I didn't brew myself personally...but...Sheila!" He called, the redhead appearing from her room in the back almost immediately. She looked worn and slightly flushed. A young man who had been with the large party that spent the night slunk out behind her in nothing more than his undergarments. The innkeeper loosed a profound sigh and closed his eyes. "Girl. You've got to stop bedding every halfway decent lad that walks through my doors. Honestly..."
Outside Dynn, shrouded in his cloak ghosted amongst the amassed riders and geared up his horse. When passing Esther he couldn't help but smirk and nod to the girl. "Thanks for the tea. I feel much better now." Silently the Pointer trotted his ride up to Montagna. He was sure to keep the hood low as not to reveal his new marks. "Further down the road or through the forest path? Either way looks suitable, although we'd find less snow under the treeline."
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