The heat of the afternoon pervaded the main room of the tavern. An older man was seated with two women and a shadowy figure armed with a large scimitar. The older man was dressed in finer raiment than they had seen for the most part in Rancide. The women were typical of those they had seen about town; small in number and commanding attention. The figure with the scimitar looked hard in their direction.
The older man spoke, “What do you want? We are closed for business. Come back later.”
Nigel said, “We’re travelers. We’re in need of a roof over our head and some rations for our bellies. We are a bit short on Dakin. My young friend is a fair dancer.”
“She could pack in a lot of customers. We could use some new entertainment,” Morck pondered.
“Are you good?” one of the women asked icily.
“With her looks, it doesn’t matter,” Morck quipped.
Cyttia angered, but Nigel restrained her by squeezing her wrist.
“Can we talk price?” Nigel asked.
“I’ll see how you do. I’ll pay you based on what you bring in, unless there are…shall we say, other considerations,” Morck continued.
Morck was precariously close to receiving an open kick to the head but Nigel controlled Cyttia’s anger again.
“Fair enough! We’ll get them in here,” Nigel replied.
The women sneered at Cyttia who did not return their gazes. The security man never said anything. Nigel sensed a familiarity with him but could not recall where he had seen the man before.
They split into groups. Nigel, Boomer, and Cyttia stayed at the area near the Dead End Inn. Roscoe, Knarra, Cara, and Eomore went to the streets to the left; Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Erinnia, and Vanni went to the right; Lyana, Big Jon, Cade, and Dael went to the center of town. They made small talk and talked of the new dancer at the Dead End. Nigel hawked the performance also, and Boomer grudgingly continued the ruse of being Nigel’s servant. Cyttia did some jumps and flips; she attracted a lot of attention. By the time the sun dipped in the west a sizeable crowd had gathered at the Dead End.
The crowd included some curious Dark Elves. The music wasn’t great; the lute player and several wind instruments created a basic rhythm but Cyttia went onto the stage anyway. She pretended to be in the arena at Ooranth competing in the games. She would not have worn a little green walking dress in the arena, but the outfit served its purpose in the Dead End. Cyttia’s movements were precise and detailed; the crowd was noisy and raucous. They spent lots of Dakin. The ale was actually a fairly good- or maybe they were just thirsty.
During the show they made the acquaintance of an easterner named Elphis. Elphis said he was a “merchant” but would not elaborate. He was wiry, taller than an elf, but had some definite elfish features. He bragged of knowing of a trail that no creatures would travel upon. The clerics of the Dark Elves had sensed great Evil in the area and encouraged their people to avoid the trail. For a price Elphis was willing to escort the group as far as the entrance to the trail but he would not go further.
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