Subsequent Visits

From Reydala

As he slowly gained conciousness, Shutat was dimly aware that he was on his back, on something soft. Meanwhile, he was astutely aware of a throbbing headache. As he sat up, bracing himself with his arms, he became aware that he was in a bed in a rather sparse room. A window was right alongside the bed, letting in the sunlight, and a dresser and mirror was alongside the wall perpindicular. In the corner was Daved, hat pulled over his eyes while he sat on a stool and grinned at his compatriot.

"What happened?"

"I told you, m'man. That Enna didn't want to have a thing to do with you. She knocked you out, and we had to get you a room here." The elf shook his head. "I've never seen a woman knock a guy out in ONE PUNCH. You owe me a gold crown, by the way."

"Hold it!" Shutat swung his legs out so that he was sitting upright, properly glaring at his shipmate. "You know me, Daved. If a girl that small really knocked me cold in one hit, you know there isn't something right about her." He stood as he realized the second bit of information. "And what do you MEAN, a gold crown?! This room can't be worth more than a couple silvers! Argh..."

The rush to his head being too great for him in his weakened state, Shutat was forced to sit back down while Daved chuckled. "That's how much the innkeeper charged, yes, but you fail to take into account the taxes on me keeping that woman from killing you, carrying your ass up here, putting you in bed, going back downstairs to get a stool for myself, and of course how much it'll cost to keep me quiet about the whole thing."

"Bloody pirate..." Shutat leaned forward on his knees, hanging his head while he just desperately wished the pain would go away. "What else could go wrong?"

The other pirate grinned widely. "Well, since you ask...look in the mirror."

Shutat raised his head again, before resignedly standing up and walking to the mirror in question. As he saw what Daved was talking about, he had to brace himself on the dresser so he wouldn't just fall to the ground and start crying. What greeting him was an extremely roughed-up looking pirate, clothes rumpled, dried blood thinly caked on his upper lip (probably from when his face connected with the floor), and an angry, shining, purple mark around his right eye. As Daved began laughing, only one phrase came to mind that adequately summed up the situation.

"Son of a BITCH!"

---Later that Night---

Shutat wasn't pleased.

He scowled at his shipmates, Daved in particular, as the afformentioned finished telling everyone about Enna kicking his ass. Again. For the fourth time. "It's not THAT funny."

"Now, Shu'at; yeh don' need t'be shamed 'bout it. Lots o' pirates had 'der asses kicked by a woman."

Shutat scowled at the Captain, before turning to the stage to see Enna and her group begin setting up for the night's set. As their eyes met, she SMIRKED at him. Groaning, the Joveninte lowered his head to the table, as Daved began the story over again for the fifth time. This just wasn't a good day.

---Records lost...Four Months Later---

Shutat grunted with effort as he lowered a cask in the corner of the cellar. That woman was going to work him to death, if he wasn't careful.

"And now that that's out of the way, you can go ahead and grab that side of beef for the cooks." As the pirate turned to give the shorter Elven woman a flat look, she grinned challengingly. "Unless you think it's too heavy, of course."

"I'll show you too heavy..." Shutat moved to the indicated meat, hefting it over a shoulder. "A slave would have gotten a break by now."

"But you're not a slave; you're just a servant. If you hadn't have started that fight and broken all that furniture, you wouldn't be working off your debt with Gil right now. It's really your own fault."

Ignoring Enna's lecture, Shutat shuffled to the steps leading up into the kitchen. "Has there been any word about when Captain Dante would be back?"

Enna ducked around Shutat so she could shake her head mockingly at him while they ascended the stairs. "Nope. Not a single, solitary one. You're still stuck here, for another week at least."

The two walked into the kitchen, Shutat dropping the meat on a counter and ignoring the protests of one of the Head Cook's apprentices. The pirate hung his head and sighed. "Guess I'll go set up the stage, then. It's all ready dusk." He moved through the blasting heat from the ovens, ducking and weaving around stew pots, bread pans, and the usual assortment of foodstuffs and tools found in a kitchen. When he got to the common room, he noticed the innkeeper, Gil, was talking with a group of people who had just walked in.

"And how many people are in your party?" The innkeeper, a short, balding man, had his ledger open to take down names and room assignments.

A handsome, dark-haired man answered. "Just myself and three others. We're on a pilgrimmage, you see." He shifted his weight to his off leg, displaying his high-kneed boots and blue clothing. A large sword was strapped to his back, which Shutat eyed professionally. It appeared to be a katana.

"You don't say..." Gil began jotting down notes, plainly not listening to anything the man said that weren't answers to his questions. "And your names?"

The handsome man gestured to his party. "Gemma, Dincht, and the woman is Hynel." Shutat's eyes followed the man's introductions. Gemma appeared to be a short man who wore loose, comfortable brown clothing. He bet that the man would be able to move extremely flexably, which Shutat gathered meant he was some kind of martial artist. Dincht was a giant of a man, with short blonde hair, a face covered with tattoos, and about the biggest sword Shutat had ever seen. He couldn't make out Hynel's features; her entire body was obscured by a blue cloak with the hood pulled over her face. It seemed to have some intricate scrollwork embroidered on it.

Gil nodded again absently. "And your name, sir?"

The handsome man smiled, and it made Shutat feel as though his veins were full of ice. "Azael."