“And if he does prove to be a problem,” he continued, and made a slashing motion through the air with his hand. Zorvut laughed aloud at that, shaking his head with a grin as he turned back to face the road. Taegan stifled a smile, though he was sure Zorvut felt his amusement and affection through the bond.
They kept traveling and eventually the path curved more to the south again. On the horizon, the image of buildings began to rise up, slowly growing larger and taking on a more defined shape and color. Another faint spike of anxiety came through the bond once the city was within sight, though it was much less than the nerves he had felt from him previously.
There was no proper gate to the port, just an open archway surrounded by a low fence. A single guard stood posted at the archway, but only gave them a bored nod as they neared it on their horses. Clearly, they had no concerns about who was entering the city.
“Pardon me,” Taegan said as they approached, locking eyes with the guard who perked up slightly at his attention. “Could you point us to the largest inn in town?”
“Well, there’s only two,” the guard replied, eyeing them a little more closely. “The larger would be The Snoring Seagull Inn, though. If you just follow the main road, it’ll be on the left in the center of town. The proprietor’s an old broad called Miss Jade.”
“Much obliged,” Taegan said, stifling a laugh at the inn’s name. They made their way through the archway and into the town proper. The smell of salt in the air was stronger now, and appropriately, seagulls were calling overhead.
“Did you want to look at a tavern?” Zorvut asked, curiosity tinging his voice.
“I figured it would be the best place to start asking around,” Taegan replied with a shrug. “And if nothing else, we’ll know where we can stay tonight.”
“Good idea,” he remarked. They followed the main path through the small town, passing by some residential buildings. Most had their windows open with curtains fluttering in the cool breeze, and a handful of people walking the streets watched them curiously as they passed. As a port town, they certainly had no shortage of sailors and workers passing through, but just two newcomers, obviously non-human and presumably warriors, arriving on horseback—he could see how that would be a bit more of a spectacle.
The inn he had asked about was readily apparent as they reached the town square. In a small city such as this, the town square was exactly that: a central area of the city which the structures were built around, a hub for travel and activity with a few peddler’s carts set up in the vacant spaces between the buildings and the fountain that served as Naimere’s focal point. To their left, as they approached from the main road, there was one building slightly larger than the rest with open doors and more activity compared to its surroundings. A sign hung over the door, but it was so weathered and worn that Taegan could not make out either its words or the crest—only a few faint streaks of what might have once been blue and white paint remained. But it was unmistakably a tavern, and almost certainly the inn the guard had described. Zorvut glanced over at Taegan, who nodded in affirmation, then dismounted and led Graksh’t to a tethering pole outside the inn. A human man was leaving the inn at the same time, and stumbled at the door at the sight of them, his mouth gaping open like a fish.
“Gods!” he finally gasped, then seemed to collect himself upon seeing Zorvut’s eyes on him. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir—I just, um, ain’t ever seen a horse so big before.”
“Yes, he gets that often,” he replied with a chuckle. The man nodded dumbly before finally stumbling down the walkway he had originally started on, still turning his head to gawk at him and the horse for a moment before turning around, shaking his head.
“So much for laying low,” Taegan sighed, though he smiled as he said it. Once the horses were tethered, they entered the inn. The door opened to a narrow hallway, just low enough that Zorvut had to lean down to walk through. Papers and pictures plastered the walls of the hallway; the papers looked to be in varying states of disrepair, some looking quite fresh while others had clearly been there for a very long time with tattered, crispy edges. They ranged from advertisements to scribbled artworks to personal messages—but Taegan only eyed them briefly as they walked, and the hallway opened up into a dining hall. The ceiling here was higher, and Zorvut could straighten up as they entered. It was a large room, bustling and noisy, with long mead hall-style tables and benches taking up most of the space with a handful of smaller tables pressed up along the walls, and a long bar on the opposite end. A few people looked curiously at them as they came in, but for the most part, their arrival seemed unremarkable.
Behind the bar was a single figure, an older human woman. Only one person was sitting directly at the bar, but a few tables were occupied with people eating a late lunch or socializing. They were mostly humans, but a few dwarves were peppered throughout the crowd. The woman behind the bar was passing a drink to the man sitting at the bar, but otherwise did not seem rushed or busy, simply surveying the room and greeting them with a slight smile and wave.
“Well, shall we have a drink?” Taegan asked, and Zorvut nodded. Now that they were inside, he could feel his husband’s unease, though his expression was as carefully stoic as ever. He led the half-orc up to the bar and they sat down.
“What can I get you travelers?” the woman asked, leaning against the bar in front of them. From this distance Taegan could now see her more clearly—the deep lines next to her eyes and mouth betrayed her age, as did the long gray hair she was wearing in a low ponytail. But she still stood straight and had a youthful grin as she eyed them. “Let me guess. Wine for the elf, and something stronger for your guard.”
Taegan grimaced, trying to force his face into his practiced charismatic grin. “You’re not too far off. Yes, wine for me, I think. And for you?” He glanced at Zorvut next to him, sensing his slight trepidation that mirrored his own, though his expression was still neutral and calm.
“Just ale,” he answered gruffly, and the woman nodded.
“Coming right up,” she said, and turned her back to them as she grabbed a glass and uncorked a bottle. She worked quickly and was soon presenting them each with their drinks. Taegan took a nervous sip, but this wine proved to be much more palatable than the sour drink he’d had at the first inn that had scared him off human wines so far.
“Thank you,” Taegan said, sliding a few coins across the bar, which she deftly dropped into her apron with a slight jingle. “You must be the famous Miss Jade.”
She laughed at that. “Ha! I don’t think I want to know who’s calling me famous, but yes, you’d be correct.”
“If you’ve a few moments to talk, I was hoping you could possibly point us in the right direction.”
“Well, sure,” Jade replied with a grin. “What are you looking for?”
“We’re looking for awhorather than awhat,” he said. A spike of anxiety came through the bond, and he projected calmness toward Zorvut as much as he could manage. “We’re searching for a human named Tomlin Whitmore. We’re not entirely sure if this is where he is, but this is where the rumors have led us thus far.”
The woman’s grin dropped slightly at that; her expression was not hostile, but had become decidedly less cheerful. Whatever that meant, Taegan was unsure.
“Well, the rumors led you true, I’ll give you that,” she said, placing her hands on the bar and leaning toward them. “If it’s an autograph you’re looking for, well, Tom will probably give it to you, but he won’t be happy about it. He came here to retire in peace, after all.”
“I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding,” Taegan said quickly, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m aware of his previous exploits, but this is not the purpose of our visit. Rather, we’ve been sent to, ah, deliver a message.”
“A message?” she asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. “And what might that be?”
“A message our benefactor believed Mr. Whitmore would be very interested in hearing,” he replied, smiling wider. She sighed and shook her head, though the amused grin still lingered on her face.
“I can see you’re not going to take no for an answer,” she said, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. “He doesn’t live too far from here. If you head toward the harbor from the town square here, he lives in one of the tall houses with a blue tile roof. His is the one with yellow curtains. He’s usually home this time of day, or out fishing if he’s not there.”
