At the Blue Griffon Tavern

Trystan and Ysolt reached the garrison town just before dusk. They didn’t spend much time exploring the streets, for they were both tired and hungry. The wayfarer didn’t feel comfortable with the look of the temples and shops, as it was clear that they catered to the military more than the average traveler. What disturbed them both was the thriving slave market, an obvious byproduct of the mines to the west. Judging by the way she was trembling while forcibly steadying her breath, Trystan suspected that the sight of the market brought up an emotional past for the priestess. Gripping her arm as her vibrantly teal eyes glared with an intensity that could kill, he whispered in Ysolt’s ear, “Not tonight.” With a tilt to the side, she bowed her head in defeat before following him into the Blue Griffon Tavern.

Four shards went into the innkeeper’s hand as they paid for a night’s stay, a meal, a fresh bath, and a round of drinks for the other patrons. Trystan remained slouched over his meal and drink, listening to the gossip and tales shared between mercenaries and soldiers. His companion remained upright and poised, her defenses up as if she expected to be attacked and shackled. She barely caught the hushed tones of a decorated soldier as he mentioned how one of the knights of Baroness Ravayne was plotting against her. Courtly intrigue was not something one idly discussed in such a public setting. But the baronies were all the way in Golnir, not Sokara. Trystan leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Do you think he’s recruiting on behalf of the knight in question?” Proving that he had overheard the same conversation. “Foolish to get outside countrymen involved,” she muttered before taking a long draught of the cider that was served with her meal of stew, cheese, and blackened bread. “Not unless General Marlock wishes to expand beyond these borders,” the young man suggested quietly before the innkeeper’s daughter approached with a warm smile. “Your baths are ready.”

The bath water was hot and soothing. The floral petals that had been added created a lovely, relaxing fragrance that eased Ysolt’s paranoia. While they soaked with a privacy screen set between them, she couldn’t help but notice that a vial of yellow dust had fallen from Trystan’s gear and rolled its way over to her side of the divider. “What that?” He barely heard her speak over the splashing water while Trystan actively scrubbed the sweat and grime from his ruddy, freckled skin. “You say something,” he muttered as he lifted a foot out of the water to closely examine a blister.

Her hair was wrapped in a scarf to keep it from getting wet, and beads of water trickled around her spine as she shifted and leaned forward in her tub to get a better look at the vial. “What yellow powder?” Ysolt clarified before she wetted a sponge to wash with. Trystan had to think for a moment, as he had completely forgotten about the powder while they were lost in the Forest of Larun. “Oh, that,” he sighed before grabbing a ladle to pour some water over his head. His short, shaggy tresses needed a thorough shampoo, though he mostly focused on cleaning and massaging his scalp.

“I followed a guy out of a gambling den and saved him from a pair of thugs,” he explained with a groan, scrubbing behind his ears before continuing. “I escorted him back to the university he lectures at, and he rewarded me with that and some wives’ tale about tossing it in the Blessed Springs.” The priestess on the other side of the screen smiled in quiet admiration. “I hear waters there be healing. Perhaps we go. Investigate tale,” she suggested as she stood up from her bath, dried herself off, and wrapped herself up in a robe before fetching the vial and taking it around to return to the wayfarer.

“What if I just drop you off there?” Trystan countered with a grim smile on his bristly face. “Leave you while you enjoy the spa and go our separate ways.” That was assuming the Blessed Springs was more of a spa resort town than some kind of divine sanctuary, as she suggested. “You be not rid of me that easily,” she chortled with a sly, pearly white smile, looking down on him as she pressed the vial into his hand. From there, she returned to her side of the privacy screen to finish dressing, allowing Trystan some privacy while he finished bathing.