A Village Stride

The village was for all intents and purposes, a village. Who would have thought? Not Noah, that's who. He was half expecting to see some soldiers running about or a giant wall to protect the place from any dangerous fantastical creatures.

Yet there was none of that, there were a few much smaller farmlands just outside the village and a good few dozen huts built up around the place. It was actually kind of disappointing how normal and small the place looked. Even the smell of freshly tilled soil blending in with the remnants of the various families cooking their meals filling the air were as villagey as he'd ever remembered.

"Gods this brings back memories…" Noah reminisced as he walked through the streets of the village. It reminded him of his grandpa's home back, well, home. He hadn't visited him much these last few years what with school and work taking up all his time. Though now that wasn't a particular issue anymore.

In the end he couldn't see this village as a particularly wealthy part of the country with just how rural everything looked.

The walk to the village had taken about as long as Liora had said, he guessed. It was hard to tell how long without any form of accurate time-telling like a watch or a mobile phone. Something he found himself strangely not missing. Normally he'd have his headphones in just listening to music as he walked. But now without them he had been forced to just listen to the chirping birds, the croaking insects and the rustling of leaves in the wind that crashed against each other like the coming and goings of an ocean tides.

Even more surprising and jolting to him was when he saw a squirrel, albeit a particularly large one with saber teeth. But still, it was a squirrel, he saw another five of whatever those were and that was about five more than he'd seen in the last ten years of city life.

It shocked him just how much seeing a simple saber toothed squirrel had affected him and made his heart pump. Was it fear? Most likely. Seeing a squirrel swoop down on a peaceful and cute rabbit and tear it throat out and begin dragging it into a bush was just not a sight you didn't find 'not scary.'

'I need to find that healer,' Noah brought his stride to a halt in the centre of the street. His head on a swivel looking left and right across the various villagers going about their own lives. Most being woman while a few of the more elderly were men. 'Strange…' he considered seeing one of the many women pause and look towards him with a curious look for a few seconds before going back to whatever daily tasks she was busy with.

"Um, excuse me, Ma'am!" Noah jogged up to a woman carrying a bucket of water in front of herself.

"H-hmm?" The woman's head jerked, and she turned around to look at him. Her lips parting slightly while tilting her head a little, "yes?" she asked.

"Sorry to bother you. But I'm looking for the healer. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find them, would you?"

The woman rose her brow to him curiously but nodded, nonetheless. Her head bobbing down the street, "Caina's normally helping out in the tavern. It's the big building in the square."

"Right, thank you," Noah bounced on the ball of his feet while backing away from the brunette woman down the street. "Thanks, ms!" Noah waved to her and sped off in the direction she guided him in.

"Huh," the woman exclaimed, "strange boy. Wonder why he didn't have any shoes on?" she thought about it before shrugging and continued walking down the street towards a little ramshackle house on the outskirts. Its shingles falling from its beams, its door hanging from its hinges.

"Mora! I'm home," the woman laid her bucket down on the ground but got no response. "Are you tired, Mora?" She walked down the cracking wood walls towards a broken doorway, odd crunching noises and wet squelches coming from said room.

Bringing her hand to the door frame the girl curled her fingers around it, pulling herself into the room.

"Mora?"

__________

"The Banshee's Bellow? That's about as 'tavern' as they come," Noah chuckled to himself as he read the hanging sign outside the Banshee's Bellow tavern's front door. Only thing that could make it more tavernesque would be if they called it the Bannered Mare and put a little horse figurehead on the roof.

Though around these parts getting a sculpt like that was likely to cost a pretty penny, or buckle as it was.

It sat about a single story high with a particularly elongated design taking up enough space where two, maybe three huts could be built. The front entrance and archway taking up spot on the side of the rectangular building far off on one end with a variety of small half pill shaped windows cut out of the wood logs used to build it up. All having a set of shutters with simple iron hinges so the rooms residents could get some shuteye even when morning light came.

When he finally pushed into the tavern through the sturdy doors his nose was immediately assaulted by a rich and fragrant smell of sizzling meats and a thick aroma of some form of ale. Perhaps even a mead from how sweet it smelt.

The room was long running what he guessed was at least half the buildings size just for the tavern portion. The back was likely to be the kitchen, maybe a few rooms for the workers or for renting out. While not packed by any means there were still a decent few woman dotted around chatting with other woman with a few groups of widely grinning men against the far walls scanning of the crowd of modelesque girls.

One, a particularly petite one was holding a metal platter over her chest, while chatting with one of the men's groups dressed in a type of medieval tavern wench garment with a white top, red dress skirt and a navy corset overtop that. Her short, dirty blonde hair held in a miniature ponytail with a little bang on the right side of her face.

"Welcome! Take a seat and I'll g- Hand off the goods!" the same tavern wench noticed his appearance and turned away to deal with him. A decision that lead to her slamming her metal platter against a particularly frisky mans head after he decided to snake his hand up to her butt and give it a tight squeeze.

Noah flinched watching the mans head rocket backwards from the wenches attack before his still body stopped it mid track sending it careening forwards and down, planting his face firmly into a wooden bowl, splattering whatever food was in it across the table, himself, his friends and magically, not the wench. "Hmph! When will you fuckers learn! This bitch ain't in heat! I ain't a part of the menu! So stop with all this fuckin gropin and shit!" the wenches expression contorted in just milliseconds to that of tormenting demon as her roars shook the very foundations Noah found himself standing up.

"Ah mean, if I like ya, than maybe. But ya'll fuckers ain' getting and snatch from thisin with those grubby fuckin mitts!" She huffed irately drawing out giggles from the girlish groups and laughter from the men who were far enough from the man who graciously got to become the new dent in her platter while his friends looked thoroughly terrified from the wenches berating.

"THAT GOES FOR ALL YA'LL!" She stomped her foot down just hard enough that Noah could feel it… if her were standing right next to her, with his head right next to her foot. Because good lords was he expecting the floorboard to crack from just how much strength she previously had to knock a man out and carve his face into plate metal.

Yet no, what he got to hear was a soft *whomp* followed by a soft, "ow… my foot…" from the wench who began a light hobble towards Noah.

'What just happened?' he asked no one but himself watching with an awkward expression as the wench got closer to him.

"Sorry about that. These guys don't know how to keep their hands to themselves. Sometimes they just need a good walloping to get the message across." She swung her fist as if she were punching someone.

"I, uh, I see that. You certainly left a mark," it bothered Noah how defined the mans face was in the platter. It looked as if sculptor had sat for hours and sculpted each and every pore on the mans face. There was even a bit of hair definition from what he could see.

The wench tilted her head in confusion, following his gaze down to the face shaped platter where her own grew a shade paler. "Oh fuck." She cried holding the platter out before her, "not another one. Uncles going to kill me."

'Another one!? How many times have you done that!?' more than enough for her to say 'another one'

"A-nyways," the wench hid the platter behind her back and nodded her head in the direction of an empty table, "why don't you take a seat over there mr. no-shoes and I'll get you something nice to eat." Whatever accent she had from her tantrum just as gone with the wind as her angered expression which now took the form of a brightly smiling teenage girl.

"No-shoes?" Noah looked down to his feet, wriggled his toes and realized, "right, don't have any shoes." His boots from yesterday could barely be called shoes considering he was walking with less boot than underwear he currently had on.

None. He didn't have any underwear on. And it was chaffing him like hell.

"Don't have shoes? That's just, weird."

Noah snorted, "I've had a weird day. Listen," he decided to get on with it, not wanting to waste any time as he wanted to get back to Liora as soon as possible, "I'm looking for the healer? I heard she'd be in here. Canea I think it was?"

The wench giggled into her hand, "I don't know any 'Canea,' but I do know Caina if that's who your looking for."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

The wench nodded profusely, "well lucky for you, you're looking at her!" She jumped placing her hands on her hips and posed a superhero pose.

"Oooohhh," Noah heard a soft womanly call from somewhere in the the hall, "someone's trying to impress the new guy~" they teased.

"Wha!? No, I ain't ya grungy whore!" Caina bolted and turned on heel searching for whoever said that with a slight redness to her cheeks, "I'm bein a good fuckin wench! Ya whore!" Laughter both male and female filled the room much to Caina's irritation

'this… this is the healer?' something told him this wasn't a particularly 'official' title she had gotten and more of a… suggestion? yeah, that sounded right.

Venting steam out of her nose, Caina turned back to Noah where her expression immediately returned to normal, "sorry bout that. The ladies like teasing me every now and then." She tilted her head up to look him in his eyes from her chest heighted perch below him.

"So, what's it Caina can do for you?"

Noah's brow rose at her third person question. "I need a healer to treat a cut."

Caina nodded with shut eyes, "Mmm, mmm, can do, show me where it hurts and I'll get right to mending you. Just let me get my sack from out back."

"Oh, its uh, it's not for me. I was actually hoping you could come back with me. I didn't want to risk bringing her with while she's still weak, and tipsy." He added as an afterthought.

Caina frowned, her eyes sharpening, "a home visit is it? I can do it. But you'll have to wait, I've still got an hour left before lunch is done."

"I'd really rather not leave her to her own devices for longer than I already have if at all possible."

Caina's frown only grew larger until she dropped her head and sighed, "give me five minutes to tell Uncle I'm gonna be gone for a bit. How serious is the injury?"

"Not very deep but its in a… sensitive area," a gash along the fore arm would certainly count as a sensitive area what with the ulnar artery being located right there.

"Riiiight,"Caina shook her head and turned her back to him, "I'll be back in five," she said making quick but wide steps towards the bar where a elderly woman was hunched over slowly but meticulously drying the same wooden tankard he'd seen her drying since he came inside.

Not even seconds after Caina's disappearance into the backrooms did Noah's leg start twitching leading to his foot impatiently tapping against the floor. It had already been a good hour and a half by his estimations. Which was an hour and thirty minutes since he last checked up on Liora.

Almost exactly five minutes later did Caina re-emerge from the backrooms now carrying a thick satchel under her arms and lacking her navy corset. Noah letting out a breath of relief as she approached him. "Right, lets get to walking."

He couldn't agree more.

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