Cant.

The same torrential rain could be felt over much of the country. In the small town of Cant, for example, that rain had driven someone to seek shelter within the small inn. He had planned to make it even further that day; with the rainfall increasing even as he tried to contemplate it, there was no way he'd make it now.

Inside was warm an bright, with much of the town gathered to wait out the storm. Cozy, in fact, would probably be the best word that could be used to describe it. Men swilled beer in the center of the main room while women gossiped in corners. Subtle hints here and there betrayed a life of poverty; too many patches on the clothing, too small a hearth to build a fire capable of heating the entire room on its own. But these were people who could make do, who had always made do and probably always could. They were in no danger of extinction, these people. The fire, for example, was more than made up for by the way the bodies had been packed into the room to share their heat.

The traveler took it all in. This was a far cry from the lands he remembered, the first with their varied peoples, most of them calm and graceful, lighting their dwellings with all manner of enchanted spheres; the more recent with their lifeless tracts of desert finally ending in the severe mountains that guarded these new lands. These people were... lively, and imprecise. Humans, untouched by magic, fey, or anything else besides the land they lived off of.

One of them spotted Tyro's presence. "Hello there! Sorry about the weather, but I'm afraid there's not much I can do about it! Care to take off your coat and join us until it lets up?"

"A cake," Hugo repeated. "A cake for the hairy one! We'll see what we can do, but meanwhile, sit, speak. Tell me why you're here."

Shrill laughter burst from beside him. "Listen to you, talking to him like he's a mutt!" A woman stood up. She wasn't entirely young, but she still possessed quite a large fraction of the beauty she had had... five years ago? ten? It was hard to tell. She gathered her skirts about her and sat down next to the other two.

"Get away, you old fool," she told Hugo. "Go get your cake, or whatever it is. Now look, son." She turned and levelled a more serious look at Tyro. "I don't know exactly why you decided to come here, but whatever it was, I can tell you that it was probably completely misguided. There's nothing in these lands for someone such as you."

"A cake," Hugo repeated. "A cake for the hairy one! We'll see what we can do, but meanwhile, sit, speak. Tell me why you're here."
"Well, I-" Shrill laughter burst from beside Hugo.
"Listen to you, talking to him like he's a mutt!" A woman stood up. She wasn't entirely young, but she still possessed quite a large fraction of the beauty she had had... five years ago? ten? It was hard to tell. She gathered her skirts about her and sat down next to the other two.
"Get away, you old fool," she told Hugo. "Go get your cake, or whatever it is. Now look, son." She turned and levelled a more serious look at Tyro. "I don't know exactly why you decided to come here, but whatever it was, I can tell you that it was probably completely misguided. There's nothing in these lands for someone such as you."
Tyro shoves his hands in his pockets. These old trousers itched a little even though they were still damp. Quite an achievement.
"Ah! Well, I'm not here for myself." He said, a small grin appearing on his features. "I'm here to help Asmerin." Yep. That sounded right.
"You?" The damming scan from head to foot was cutting. "Excuse the phrase but 'you and what army?'"
"I'm here to help whatever army you can create." Tyro said. Nothing in his voice seemed like he was joking.
"I don't see how you would profit by it. I'm not even sure how much help you could lend an army to oppose the Lemon. Your trick with the fire is impressive but able to withstand a thousand man charge."
"That's what the cake is for." Tyro said, a certain resolute annoyance was emphasising his words more than he wanted. "I'd prefer something with lemon's in it."

The woman laughed again. The sound was harsh and grating against Tyro's ears. "You must be talking about the old man, yes? The beardless one, with the purple cloak? I'm afraid your gossip is a little late, son. By a few months. That trick would've worked before, but not anymore. Life goes on, things change, flowers bloom, trees die, the days grow longer, and some time between all that, the sheep start... well, never mind what the sheep do. What the sheep do is the shepherd's business, am I right, son?"

She rocked backwards in her chair with mirth. "To be serious though, son. You aren't going anywhere tonight. We have rooms, we have food, even non-citrus-related food, and you need a rest. Maybe in the morning... you ask about Whisney, hmm?" The woman gave him a short pat on the back, got up, and left out the door.

Tyro stepped back out into the rain.

You get nothing for free is and excellent motto he'd been bound by for years. It had given him plenty but a raincoat might be nice...maybe some shoes? The mud found room between his toes in the biblically heavy rain. Nothing much would shift it. He's fought plenty of times for various different people and never once did he get anything he genuinely wanted. Money is largely useless when you don't have a place to call your own to fill. He did wonder whether he could stay in one place again for a long time and he figured he'd go nuts if he didn't move on for too long a time. He was a free spirit, he figured, knowing that to have several meanings. He was doing this because there wasn't much else he could do at this point. He had a debt and an addiction.

The door opened on the small hut where he was to pick up some old clothes one of the women kept. Some grandson or something hadn't come to collect them yet and wasn't likely too. It was better than shivering to death repeatedly. He'd left her back in the...where everyone else was, smoking a pipe so it looked like she'd be a few minutes before she arrived. He crossed the room the fireplace, throwing a flame across to whatever wood was there. He attempted to still his shivering with the fires growing heat.