Yeah, she was bad news alright.
Not that she was a bad person. On the contrary, she was actually a nice girl when you get to know her, good for a laugh though a bit rough around the edges and her table manners left a lot to be desired. Still she was quite dependable and handy to have around particularly in tough situations. Yeah. She swung a mean battle axe, that one. A couple of them, in fact.
She was bound to notice and recognize them should they try for the kitchen. She would raise such a fuss that Severin was sure to notice, even over the din of the crowded room.
Rolf glanced over to where the old merchant was, who by now had made his way to the nearest table and was talking to the three men there. One of the men shook his head in response to Severin’s queries. Rolf could easily imagine what they were.
Any other time he would have walked over to Yumi’s table and gladly sat down for a pint or two. She looked like she was celebrating something. But considering the situation they were in, they could ill-afford any attention and delay. As it was, they were already running late for they needed to be at Redmound in the morning, a journey that normally took a whole day on horseback.
Looked like they were going to have to risk going out the window after all. Too bad the tavern didn’t have private rooms in the first floor.
As he stood there considering their options as he thoughtfully stroke his long, drooping mustache, a loud, booming voice called out from behind him.
“Hey, what’s the hold up, Rolf?” it went. “Thought you’d be tending to the horses by now. We’d have to ride like mad men all night to get to Redmound on time, you said, and yet here I find you skulking about like a common brigand.”
Rolf turned around to see his partner, Sven Whilwright stepping off the last step of the staircase at the end of the short, narrow corridor.
Hailing from the country of Holviland, Sven with his red, short-cropped hair, clean-shaven face, heavy plate armor that covered most of his body, and thick, fur-trimmed cape cut the typical figure of an easterner.
He was a mite short for an easterner though. A few inches short of six feet. And his strong, deep baritone voice only served to accentuate his lack of height, which never failed to lighten up Rolf’s mood.
Sven would have made an excellent drill sergeant with that voice of his and with his family background, he could easily manage it. He could even become a commander of the royal army. But instead he opted for the life of a mercenary, a member of the Broken Blade Guild.
Rolf gestured to his companion to quiet down. “Not so loud. Severin’s out there, looking for us. We can’t have any more delays or we’ll never that appointment in time. We’re late enough as it is.”
Sven arched an eyebrow. He looked over Rolf’s shoulder and shrugged.
“So?” he asked. “What’s the problem? Use the crowd as cover and go out the back. I’m sure Helmut wouldn’t mind.”
“Yeah, I thought of that,” Rolf replied. “But there’s--”
He was cut off by an excited shriek.
“Rolf!” Yumi yelled on the man’s back and threw her arms around him. “Sven! I thought I recognized you guys!”
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