DRAFT The Wildlands: Attria (Chapter 3: Life in Aht'Regenia)
Chapter 3: Life in Aht'Regenia
Renno raises a paw in reaction to brush his face though the ear had long left it.
The figure standing upright ears included is only as tall as Renno, his head covered in fur of pure white extending up until finally turning black at the end of his long slender ears. By all accounts a rabbit to you and I. "Someone new, something new. He stresses as he rapidly examines Renno looking around him to his right then stepping around him to his left and garbing his tail. "What is he!" The rabbit exclaims excitedly.
Renno pulls his tail back. "Let go of that." he says frustratingly.
Kyra speaks up. "Renno, this is my friend Minetz, Minetz, Renno." she introduces the two. "Minetz is a Thanorite of the Thono species.
Minetz stands with his fingers clasped together behind his back resting on his stubby little tail. Leaning forward towards Renno. "Nice to meet you." he says as calmly and politely as he can possibly state. He then breaks his demeanor and returns once again to a high energy state this time directed at Kyra grabbing the edge of her cloak lifting it to look behind her back. "Did you bring it? You promised me last time! I'm almost out you know. You don't want me to starve do you?"
Like with Renno with his tail Kyra snatches her cape away from Minetz. "Stop it your such a child and no I don't have any. I was unexpectedly busy yesterday."
Minetz strains beggingly "But I could staaaaarve, you don't want me to starve do you?" He leans against Kyra affectionately.
To Renno's surprise Kyra pushes him away with considerable force causing him to loose his balance and fall. However, due to a quick angle motion he turns the fall into a roll and springs spryly back onto his feet and laughs as though it meant nothing to him.
"Come on you gotta see this I finished the first one!" And with that Minetz takes off up the steps leaping and skipping two or three steps with every bound.
Renno looks to Kyra still somewhat shocked by her reaction.
"What?" she looks back at him.
Renno shrugs and looks to the second floor.
"We better not keep him waiting. He might explode." She says sarcastically and begins up the steps.
Renno Follows behind, a noise of rummaging through metal and wood tools can be heard emanating from above.
"See look!" Minetz exclaims as he holds a thin wooden card up with several holes cut through it.
"Its too big, It will never do." Kyra says unimpressed.
Renno observes the exchange as the two carry on. He thought often of asking for an explanationbut thought maybe its best he not get between them. As she argued with Minetz Kyra worked her way towards the stairs, turning around after each explanation to face Minetz and object eventually at the top of the incline pausing a final time at the top of the steps before finally rapidly descending to to the bottom and opening one of the cabinets. Renno rushes to the banister realizinghe may miss out on the opportunity to ask her more questions.
"Your not leaving are you." he calls down to her.
"Ill be back in about two months to check in on you." She calls back up to him.
Renno is struck by a sinking feeling of being trapped.
"B-but..." he stammers.
Minetz rushes to join him at the banister approaching it with such speed he must use it as a brace to stop himself. Leaning way over the banister he joins Renno in objecting. "But im almost out of food."
"Well the engineer something I owe Elons a favor, and hes not the only one." She says calmly in an adult tone as if to deliberately out-mature the two boys. She pulls a couple shirts and pants from the cabinet along with a pair of gloves.
"Pleeaaaaaaasse don't go momma Kyra." Minetz pines in the sappiest tone he can muster.
Renno though a little embarrassed by Minetz joins him in asking, though not in the same tone. "Kyra could you stay? I have a lot of questions."
Kyra pauses at the door. "Fine, ill return in the morning before setting out. Ill bring you whatever supplies I can to tide you over. But I will have to leave tomorrow. Its early winter, Its bad enough I waited this long to make the trip. Any longer and it will be the dead of winter the whole way though. Just be up by watchers light." She puts the clothing the removed from the cabinet onto the cabinet next to the door rather than take it with her thenpulls on the door to open it, again it sticks rubbing the floor. She has to use a foot braced against the wall to pull it open. "And fix this door!" she shouts in a disapproving tone as it is not the first time shes made the request. With that she has gone.
Renno slumps to the floor beside the banister in disbelief. For perhaps the third time in just a day his entire world has changed around him. So many questions. He contemplates, what to do, what to eat, where to sleep, even where to use the restroom. Can he walk the streets safely? Can he get a job? Does he need to pay Minetz? Speaking of which, he turns to find Minetz bending over and staring at him from an uncomfortably close range.
"Can I help you?" Renno asks rhetorically.
"Are you any good with wood?" He asks back in earnest.
Renno looks at the ceiling. "I don't know. I can't remember anything beyond yesterday."
"Oh! Oh your a survivor? Did you get the plague and live?"
Renno looks at him. "What plague?"
Minetz puts out his paw and pulls Renno to his feet and starts walking towards his workbench. "The plague, the magic plague." He says. "I was too little to remember when it first happened, I hear it spanned the continent perhaps the entire world!"
Renno hangs on every word. By now he has become desperate for information on his past and for the first time this seemed like something that might involve him.
"Oh yes, it was terrible. So many died. They say it killed more magic than people. Artifacts, Ruins, those kinds of things. They would glow with an eerie color about them before burning out like a torch plunged into a troth of water and with it all magical effect. Anyone exposed to the wells, which to be fair is nearly everyone, could be affected. It spared the bards, that's how we know. It spared the bards but so many people. I can barely remember. They would ring the bells in the middle of town seven times. We would all hide inside. Only the dead would be loaded onto carts and carried away to be buried or burned. It was scary. It was a few years ago since the last time it happened. I was still little then but that I remember. First you lose your memory, then your mind, then your life. A tragic way to go. Few who caught it were spared, but they lost their memory. Is that what happened to you?"
"I suppose it could have been. I don't remember so its hard to say." Renno pondered for a while. Even if this were the answer it wouldn't be enough. He still has no idea where he came from, how he got here, or who he was before. He would need to find someone who knew him. But how.
"And that's how it works you see? Its so much better, I'll show Kyra, one day." Minetz holding up the wooden card before Renno.
"I'm sorry what?" Renno had been caught not paying attention to the young Thono.
"Okay I'll start again." Minetz begins to repeat himself before being cut off by Renno.
"What is this place?" he asks looking around the workshop.
"Its the engineering workshop. Well one of them anyway. It was abandoned between the population decline and the move to the new capital. No one uses it anymore. So they let me stay here. No one bothers us here. I mean I don't go outside. Sometimes they come the door. They ask me to make them tools and things. Usually they are just laying around and I can trade them whats already at hand. I suppose once they belonged to someone. But they have been left to the dust now. So I sell them. I suppose I should feel guilty. But I need to eat. Oh sure, sometimes they leave me food in the night. Sometimes its not even wilted. They mean well. But the wont talk to me, oh no, not by the light of day. Not where the others can see. They like me, I know it, Kyra likes me. Shes my mom you know. Well my second mom. Kyra's the best." His words are quick and cheerful.
"You sure do like to talk." Renno says a little lost in his explination. "How old are you anyway?"
"Me, I'm 12, Kyra's old, shes like 15. I make fun of her for that. She doesn't like it. How old are you? You gotta tell me. I told you, now you go." He picks up a tool and examines it then starts to draw in a blank ply of wood.
"I don't know." Renno is 19.
"Did you lose count? It was hard to get past 10, I ran out of fingers. I had to memorize. But I'm good now, I can count all the way to 100 now. I bet I could count more. I haven't tried though."
His enthusiasm begins to grate on Renno. He should have asked Kyra these questions when he had the chance. They are interrupted with a knock at the alley door. Minetz rushes off before Renno can even process the conversation fully. Again Minetz leaps over the banister and forgoes the stairs. Before Renno can even reach the top of the steps he has the door open and is conversing with someone on the outside.
"You understand an axle. Its urgent. Do you have one or not." The voice says faintly as Renno descends the stairs.
"Hand cart, merchant cart, or goods cart." Minetz asks hanging on the door by the handle.
"Merchant cart." The voice states blankly.
Renno comes around the door behind Minetz.
"By Miran there are two of you now." The male Anoran states. He stands in the alley quite a bit taller than Renno or Kyra, fully grown. He is wearing his good over his head drawn tight around his face making it difficult to see him clearly.
"And in exchange?" Minetz asks inquisitively.
"Right. Here. I brought you some food just like before." The Anoran hands over a sack of mixed vegetables and grasses to Minetz.
Minetz looks them over before replying disappointedly. "This is all, for a whole axel?"
"It's fresh." he states almost in the tone of a question.
"You'll bring me more wont you? You gave me more last time." The two exchange rapidly.
"Last time was for a wheel."
"And it wasn't enough you promised!"
"Fine, now please hurry my cart blocks the road."
"Okay" Minetz runs up the steps and returns shortly dragging a heavy wooden cart axle nearly as tall as he is to the top of the stairs.
Renno looks up at him with concern. "Would you like some help with that."
Minetz turns and replies to him "No ill be just fine-" before tipping over and dropping the axle. Minetz manages to brace him self against the wall as the axle rattles down the stairs in a tremendous racket before resting at the bottom.
Renno puts a paw over his face in disgust and the Anoran behind him sighs heavily.
"Sorry, Sorry! Its good strong wood, its fine. I didn't use pine, I know better now." he rushes to the bottom and picks the axle up off the floor and drags it over to the door. "You'll be back with more food right? You promise?"
The Anoran reaches for the axle and takes possession of it. Renno takes notices of the spots on his arms and recalls the lesson on tribes from Kyra earlier. "Yes I will return with more later."
He did not.
. . .
With the door shut tightly behind her Kyra looks into the bright sunny sky above. Still partially cloudy and yellow with the light of dawn it is at least a new day in the Anoran kingdom. She knows her time to earn her keep at the market is running short. She hurries quickly down the street.
"Kyra!" A familiar voice shouts to her.
Kyra stops in her tracks and follows the voice to a small shop that tailors clothing.
"My Kyra come in out of the cold. Tell me just what on earth were you dragging around the streets earlier." a female Anoran says to her a bit too dramatically for Kyra's taste.
"Kota..." Kyra addresses her elder and shopkeep.
"Look at you, your skirt is tattered. You need to take better care of your things. Poor girl. I know it must be hard. Here. Take this market order to Sherantz for me. Ill hem you something nice. I finally got my heavy cloth in for the winter." Kota hands her a list of goods addressed to the merchant.
Kyra looks at the note reading it over. "Your going to give me a skirt simply for taking a note down the street?" she says looking over the contents of the order.
"Why dear, Miran knows you need it. I wouldn't want my sweet little Kyra to freeze in the last winter of her childhood. That would be tragic."
_Charity_Kyra thought to her self. A feeling of disgust overcame her. If there is one thing Kyra wanted in the world, its for people to see her as she feels she truly is. A kind loving soul who stands for everything Miran stands for. Loyalty, honor, a champion hunter, unbreaking, capable. Its not to say Kyra actually is all these things. But to her the idea she would need to get by on handouts was particularly frustrating. It is unnatural. After all, the natural order is at stake here. Who should be provided for who cant provide for themselves? Charity is an insult.
"Kota?" Kyra calls her attention.
"Yes dear."
"I seek to travel to Dunmoras tomorrow. Can you have me the clothing by then?"
"Dear I'm not sure I'll have the time." She says dismissively.
"Advance me the skirt and enough coin to make a purchase on your behalf. I can bring you all the heavy cloth you can possibly want for the rest of the winter months. Its cheaper there. I know you will need more. Consider the skirt a down payment. When I return you can repay me in full with a complete outfit plus two more for my friends."
"Well dear I suppose." Kota thinks it over. She abhors the idea of making an outfit for a Rabbit. But she knows as does Kyra the prices in Dunmoras are half of what they are in the south. "Alright. Ill have it done in the morning. Your lucky young lady you have such a compassionate friend in me..." She continues to lecture Kyra about how virtuous a person she is for accepting Kyra's offer and that no other Anoran would possibly accept such an absurd request to cloth a foreigner, and a herbivore at that. Stressing every word to hyperbole as if there were not even the slightest economic advantage for her in it.
Kyra endures the lecture without objection.
"Ill also draw you up a list. I wont spoil the opportunity to buy from Dunmoras on heavy fabric alone." and with that she dismisses Kyra.
She opens the door back out into the streets to find a commotion. An overturned merchant cart is blocking much of the road as the keep rushes to pick up his wears before they get trampled or taken. Kyra recognizes the man and rushes to his aid.
He mutters a colorful myriad of curses under his breath as he collects his goods from the cobblestone. "Kyra! My damned cart. I'm late to the market and now this. Lousy workmanship. The axle has gone."
"Ill pick up here. Go to the southern workshop and ask Minetz I think I saw him cutting new parts just the other night. He may have what you need. I just left there."
"I don't need the help of any Thanorite especially a Thono." He rejects her suggestion.
"Didn't he make you a wheel just a week ago?" Kyra knows this to be true. She presses the issue with him. "Besides I have taught him to read and write. I've discussed with him the virtues of Miran. Hes more Anoran than Thono now anyway." She attempts to appeal to his sense of pride.
"I suppose I don't have much of a choice." he knew this from the start.
The truth of the matter is Anorans are isolationists. But more than any other they despise Thanorites, their liberal views on inter-species relationship has been long a sticking point between the cultures. Their borders are too far apart for this to spill over into conflict but they hold a distinct mutual disdain for one another. The Anorans see them as immoral species mixing promiscuous deviants. Meanwhile the Thanorites see the Anorans as immodest barbaric specists. Each nation has laws forbidding them from even touching one another.
"Well then go, take some food with you as trade. He is running low." Kyra grabs a sack from the wrecked cart and hands it to him. He fills it up with the few basic vegetables and grasses he has on hand.
Kyra stops him as he departs. "Is that all?" looking him directly in the eyes she points at the satchel.
"I would be a fool to pay more. If he can even build a suitable axle I bet it won't last a day." He states impolitely as possible.
Kyra presses her case with him once again. "And if it lasts more than a day then what."
"Then I'll thank Miran for the miracle and go on about my life." He pushes Kyra aside and walks down the road south towards the workshop.
Kyra picks up the cart rapidly as best she can. Once done she looks around cautiously. _The nerve of him._She thinks to herself. Her mind made up she grabs a sack from the cart and fills it to the top with all the vegetables she can fit and runs back across the street into Kota's shop. "Hold onto this I will be back for it" she plops the bag down onto the counter and runs back into the street before the merchant can return.
Kota though confused doesn't say a word and stashes the bag under the counter.
It's not long before he does axle in tow. "I'm impressed, a fine piece. This should do nicely." he says proud of his acquisition.
"Don't speak too loudly now. I might mistake your tone for admiration." Kyra mocks him.
"One day you'll learn Kyra not to trust anyone but your fellow Anorans. But your young, so many life lessons of Miran to learn without a parent to teach them." He sets to work propping up the card so he can work on it.
Again Kyra is insulted. She considers herself an authority on Miran. While the watchers teachings do speak of the natural order. That for an Anoran their sacred right is to hunt and provide for their self and family though their strength. However, Miran also teaches with the gift of strength that it falls to them to protect and provide for others to strike a balance. It would seem many Anorans would soon forget that or only apply it to their family. This particular merchant is one of the worst. In his case "Specist" is less a stereotype and more an unalienable truth he flaunts proudly. A nationalistic zeal that he likely feels brings him customers.
He dismisses Kyra. With the satisfaction of having done two good deeds though one of them a little underhanded. She proceeds through the town back to the square. A breeze has kicked up and she can feel the crisp cool air blow through her fur. Like any good Anoran, she enjoys it. Anoran culture is a patchwork of beliefs based actions, tribal tradition, and new modern so called practical approaches only recently invented.
. . .
"You never did explain what this is." Renno holds the wooden card with the holes cut into it upto the light streaming in through the slatted window.
"Its great its for writing." Minetz informs him "The Anorans love books that can all read. Kyra taught me to read. But they spend too long, all day, writing books. So many of them write. I can write fast. Kyra says its messy but I can write faster than her. I think shes jelous. But this, with this you can write faster than anyone."
Renno is beginning to wonder if Minetz ever slows down. He starts to regret even asking the question to the talkative child.
Minetz snatches the wooden card from his hand. "Watch this." he slaps the card onto a piece of paper and then douses it with ink. Slowly he lifts the card and it becomes clear that it is in fact a stencil. "See you can read it right?" he holds up the paper and the overuse of ink causes it to run down the page.
"I don't know if I can read. Even if I can I don't seem to be able to read Anoran." Renno says feeling a little disappointed in himself.
"It says. Behold faster words have never been written before. Isn't it great?" Minetz awaits Renno's approval.
Renno stares at the pathetic sheet a few more moments. "It takes a whole page just to say that?"
"Well..." Minetz looks down at his feet for the first time sounding a little saddened. "I know, its not very good yet. But it shows that you can write without writing! That has to count for something." His tone returns to an excited state by the end of the sentence.
"I see. Well... that's something I suppose." He says trying to sound encouraging although not to get Minetz hopes up.
Minetz pulls a round green vegetable out of the bag of goods he gained from the merchant before and breaks it half with his paws. He offers half to Renno. "These are pretty good. But they don't cook well. Here have some."
Renno receives his half of the plant it looks almost fruit-like though it is dark green and porous on the inside. Packed full of little curls of leafy nubs like a head of broccoli turned inside out and packed into a ball.
Minetz takes no time in eating his. He seems to quite enjoy it.
Renno takes a small bite of his and his face nearly turns inside out. "Blagh!" he heaves and coughs leaning over the floor nearly dropping the vegetable.
"Are you okay mister?" Minetz rushes to Renno's side.
Renno waves him off and regains his composure "I'll be fine, ugh that is the most bitter thing I think I have ever eaten and I'm fairly sure I don't need my memories to say that with confidence."
Minetz does not wait for Renno to hand the vegetable back and takes it from his hand. He takes a huge bite out of it and says with his mouth full "Wfut du youf meen. Thish ish grate?"he swallows the bite with no trouble at all.
Renno looks at him with a smile. Something about the way he confidently went about it seemed to please Renno. "I think we just have different tastes maybe its a species thing."
Minetz smiles and takes another bite this time he swallows before talking. "Ill turn the rest into a soup later. You'll enjoy that."
Renno remembers the stew he shared last night with Kyra. "You know, Kyra gave me a bite of stew last night that was pretty good. If you learned to cook from her taste I just might."
Minetz mood shifts suddenly and he looks dead at Renno almost as if he had seen a ghost.
"What?"
Minetz looks at Renno, at his claws and nearly shouts. "You wouldn't eat me would you!" He takes a step back from Renno away from the table.
Renno a little confused replies. "No, of course not. Where would you get that Idea?"
Minetz just as quickly turns his mood again to joy. He runs the few steps of distance back to Renno and hugs him around the waste. "I knew you wouldn't eat me."
Renno is caught off guard unsure what to do he issues him half a hug back. "Okay, yes its fine allright."
Minetz little paws squeeze Renno a little tighter as he speaks.
"Alright that's enough let go of me." Renno tries to push Minetz off which Minetz seems to ignore. "Come on now let go." he finally pry's the little Thono off of him. Renno yaws, though it is morning here he is feeling quite tiered. He didn't quite get a lot of sleep the night before. "Is there anywhere I can lay down?"
"Sure sure, at the top of the steps, Ill light the furnace for you down here. You will find a bed roll. I have a spare. Just use the one laying out up there. I have work to do anyway, Ill wake you for dinner. Your gonna love it. I'm the best cook. Kyra tried to cook once. It was awful. I don't know how you turn half a food to mush and the rest is still crunchy and raw. You know this one time..."
His voice trails off as Renno walks up the stairs to the third level of the workshop. It's quiet here. Rows of dusty books line the walls and divide into idles. Some of the shelves are very deep holding up to 3 volumes in front of one another. There are piles of books on the floor as well. Some of them lay open. Renno cant read them but they are full of drawings and diagrams of tools and parts. The ones near the bedroll seem to take up the topic of cart construction. Renno lays on the roll and stares at the ceiling. But sleep won't come. Like the night before his thoughts turn inward. He thinks about the life he can no longer recall. For hours he lay upon the floor contemplating the short account of his new life. He knew he would have just one more chance to ask Kyra questions. He assumed simply after that he would never see her again. That by the time she returns he will have found a job and be on his own. Perhaps even leave town for warmer shores. Yes this was a fine plan. He needed to get his information tonight. Eventually though unclear to him how long it had taken sleep would eventually come.
. . .
Kyra carries a bag of goods for another patron up the steps to a fine scribes establishment. Her arms overloaded she is careful not to drop a thing. This is how Kyra earns her keep for you see in this world there are no horses to pull carts. No oxen to plow a field. No cats to hunt mice and no mice in need of hunting. In this world all mammals developed into full fledged walking, talking, thinking creatures.
"Where shall you like your goods Mam." Kyra asks politely.
"Oh be a good little girl and place them on the counter. I shall see to putting it away myself." The lady responds to her in a calm soothing tone.
"Yes mam." Kyra replies.
By now several of the scribes look up from there work interrupted by the sounds of conversation. Their glances meant to hush Kyra.
Couriers are the lowest of the low in Anoran culture. Only dishonored members of society labor carrying goods for others. Yet this is how Kyra must make her living. Anoran's still use a tribal system of trade. Each member of the species wears a bracelet or necklace signifying their honor. They are made from the teeth of long dead ancestors carved with their names. When a child turns 16 they receive the coveted jewelry from their family and are considered an adult. Until then they must rely on the honor of their parents. With and honor band they can partake in trade openly. They receive from vendors what they need. The tailor will provide them clothing. The butcher with a hot meal. All of which will be reconciled in the new year at tax time. Those who give more than they receive are gieven payment in gold they can use to trade for more goods. Those who fall short may either pay a tax or work it off the balance over the next year. The crown sets the price for most things. Though items of luxury are still typically bartered for. Those without an honor band must trade for everything.
"Oh dear, I have nothing with witch to trade you it seems." The head scribe says aloud with the back of her arm over her head in dramatic fashion. Her acting is terrible and her statement an obvious lie. "My I do suppose I will simply have to pay you with this." She turns and places into Kyra's paws a single gold coin.
Kyra examines the coin and looks to the lady with disbelief. "You, I..." she starts to speak but words escape her. Likely for the best as many of the scribes have now set down their writing utensils and grow impatient waiting for silence to return.
"Now dear run along. I'm sure you have more pressing matters to attend to." The head scribe ushers Kyra out of the door back into the street.
Another act of charity. A coin of gold is an immensely valuable thing. 500 silver bits make a Silver Paw A coin named after the engraving of three paws representing the tribes. A meal may only cost 100 bits. Bits usually come in dividends of 10 and 50. 10 Paws make a Chieftain. Their are many chieftain coins. Like the Paw it is named after the engraving. These coins are specifically worth their weight in silver and are legal to mint by any jeweler with the skill to do so. They use them as a tool for marketing each minting coins to show their skill in metallurgy of their favorite chieftain. 10 Chieftains make a Matriarch. A coin of gold featuring Queen Anora.
Kyra looks at the coin. It stares back at her almost to mock her. She resents it. Meant as an act of kindness clearly such a valuable thing should never be allows in her paws. She loathes the coin. Anyone else would be singing in the streets though to the benefit of the streets Kyra is not. Anorans are not known for their singing voice. This kind of charity is rare among the Anorans. But with winter looming and despite her lack of an honor band, or parents who's honor Kyra might lean upon she is respected. The people of the town have come to know Kyra. Unlike those stripped of their honor Kyra is well mannered. Well behaved. She will accept any job and she works to the best of her ability. She is noble and kind. She does not sell herself even in moments of desperation and has never been known to steal. Or at least she has never been caught. Her earlier indisgression aside Kyra is more upstanding a citizen than those even with the largest and most glorious honor bands. If only Kyra knew it for herself.
Kyra wondered the streets just looking at the coin. A few onlookers noticed the glinting gold coin in her paws and dawned looks of shock to see her in her tattered clothing carrying one. She had decided where to go. Not to Brown Hearth She couldn't trust Elons with such a task. She headed north. Yes this is the place. A great old dining hall stand before her known simply as "The Table".
The owner of the establishment was the husband of Keeta a prominent business woman of the Ieza tribe. Her family had earned immense wealth in the ages before the War of Burned King. Their trade however was banned when the treaty was signed. Her family has made their coin advising the crown on great deal of matters. The have held the Ieza seat on the council for generations and invested in the rebuilding of Aht'Regenia as well as the construction of the new capital shipyards. Keeta however was the black sheep of the family. When her father died she inherited more than an equal share of the wealth and unlike her brothers divorced her self from the politics of the nation. She headed south. Home to Aht'Regenia she married a poor Airet named Rozen A simple man with a heart of gold. Rather than helping to invest in the crown she used her wealth to fund the rebuilding of Whitehall and bought The Table across the street. She spent a large portion of her money doing it. She was mocked by her brothers having been seen as investing in the poor. Further insult was delieverd onto them by her choice of husband. In their eyes she married a backwards barbarian. With her riches gone she took to tending Whitehall content to break even. The Table on the other hand lost money for years. Most of which due to the neglect of Rozen. He had never learned to read or write until long after taking head of The Table and his book keeping was terrible. To both the surprise and disappointment of Keeta's brothers Queen Anora made them whole refunded her all the coin she had invested and named her "Keeper of Aht'Regenia" a title closely resembling that of Mayor.
Kyra approaches the counter she sits on one of the tall wooden stools and waits patiently for Rozen's attention.
Kyra has never given much thought to her life. She is too busy trying to survive. Though if she had given it a though she might curse Miran for taking her parents from her. She might hold Elons in contempt for his hardened heart. She may not have been so quick to forget Tharon's betrayal of her affection when he joined the guard. This coin could change all that. The scribe Lady Manon knew this when she gave it to her. Manon was a good friend of her parents. Though her establishment is the most successful of its kind in Aht'Regenia coming up with a whole Matron to spare was difficult. She meant to save it a while longer and give it to Kyra on her 16th birthday. But the gold had been burning a hole in her pocket. Kyra's birthday is in the late fall. She simply couldn't wait that long and knew how much good it could do Kyra in the winter months. So she gave it to her early.
Rozen approaches Kyra "Hello lass, here for a mid afternoons drink are we." He pokes fun at Kyra while cleaning out a flagon. Rozen is huge. 6'8" with arms that could crush stone. He leans on the counter. He wears a short sleeved bleached white linen shirt. Stained with mead and stew from nights long past. His attire is completed with baggy brown pants and tall black boots who's origin might be suspect if examined closely made of a thick leather.
Kyra slaps her paw down on the counter containing the gold coin. "I want nothing to do with it."
Rozen looks at Kyra, her expression intense and unyielding. He leans in closer his enormous muscle bound arm leans on the counter. His eyes fall slowly to her paw still covering the coin. After a moment she slowly removes it revealing the coin in all its splendor. Rozen grabs her paw and places it back over the coin.
Quietly but with great authority he barks at her. "Where did you get that."
"Lady Manon" she states flatly.
"Lady Manon?" Rozen asks with less surprise in his voice than before.
"Lady Manon." Kyra repeats herself.
"Lady Manon." Rozen echos back to her though this time with exasporation.
"Take it, feed the poor for as long as you can. I want no part in it." Kyra stands and leaves the coin exposed in the middle of the counter.
"Nothing at all woman are you mad." He says loudly.
The few patrons around the establishment look at him inquisitively but after a moment they return to their meals.
"Nothing at all." Kyra states back to him. Again in her flat, unwavering tone.
"Surely kid, you must want something. I can't take this from you. Don't you understand what this could mean?"
"I know exactly what it means. It means I can't earn my keep. That I have nothing to contribute. It would be an insult to my honor but clearly I have none." She points to her bare wrist. "So it would seem giving me such a thing should be fine. Well I reject it. I have honor, or dignity at least. I wont accept such a thing. Now or ever."
"Oh come on don't do this to poor old Rozen, you expect me to accept it? How am I to feel." He tries to turn her sentiment against her.
"I didn't say it was for you, I said feed the poor." She protests in a match of wits.
"Is that how its going to be then. Really you wont accept a thing. Come on, something, anything. I can't take it if I don't give you anything."
Kyra rubs her paw on her chin and thinks for a moment. "Fine, I want, 3 hot meals. A large satchel of your best vegetables and a single paw."
"Thats it?"
"Thats it." she declares definitively.
"You want all that food now?"
"No, just one bowl and the paw now. I'll come for the rest it in the morning."
He picks up the matron and shakes his head in disbelief. "I know what your going to say. But just so you know. Im going to hold on to this a while just in case you change your mind."
"Rozen!" she snaps back at him.
"I don't want to hear it. I'll feed the poor in case you go through with it. But if your senses come about you simply ask. Understood?"
"Unnecessary." She reassures him.
Rozen returns with a bowl of hot stew filled to the brim. "One day you will look back at this moment and regret it."
Kyra grabs hold of the wooden spoon and eats her stew. She declines to comment further on the matter. Soon her spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty bowl. She rises to her feet and heads for the door.
Rozen waves to her though he does not turn to look. He knows she would not appreciate being acknowledged further.
Kyra waves back this time she holds in her paw a much more suitable and modest paw. She rubs the worn surface of the coin. Imagining her thumb joining her with the three tribes. She smiles. Arriving at the fountain in the market square a voice calls out to her.
"Kyra! Girl where have you been! I have more errands for you to run." The voice belongs to Fen a merchant of scribe supplies from whom Lady Manon earlier bought her goods.
"Sorry Fen, not today!" she calls out across the busy square.
"Are you sure?" he calls back "Its easy work just a few scrolls of Vellum for the guards office for the winter address."
"No thank you Fen, I'll be leaving town in the morning I have to prepare." She calls back leaving Fen scratching his head. He had earlier been told she would be around all day.
Kyra enters into another building this one a single story with a wooden roof, the snow all melted from it and an open vent in the peak of the roof pours thick white steam into the cold winter sky.
"No,no,no, I don't serve your kind here, you know that, out into the street with you. No trade, only coin." The female Rohean by the name of Atta walks briskly from behind the counter and begins to usher Kyra back out into the street. Atta is well dressed and views herself a member of the upper-class. Prideful in her successful operation of a fine bathhouse situated on the market square. She would find it utterly devastating to find that her and her along view her self in such esteem. Luckily for her, arrogance and ego make for an excellent veil for pride and ignorance.
Kyra pushes back. "Here take it." She hands the Paw over to Atta.
Atta stares at the coin half expecting it to vanish as some part of elaborate joke or illusion. When the coin fails to she finally asks "And what do you intend to buy with this."
"I want it all. A bath, my clothing cleaned and a maid to assist me." Kyra says defiantly.
Atta takes a moment to contemplate her request before issuing a response. "Your total comes to 400 bits. However, I am keeping the 100 change. Dirty little street girls like yourself require extra work, I'm sure you understand.
Kyra quickly undresses right before her in the lobby and hands places her dirty laundry on the counter.
"By Miran what kind of two bit establishment do you think I run here. We have a room for that now get out of here before I change my mind. And take your laundry with you, I wouldn't touch it to save my life one of the maids will see to that nasty bit of work."
Kyra smiles and takes her clothing from the counter and proceeds thought the door into the dressing room. A maid attendant waits by the inner door and accepts her laundry from her.
Atta pokes her head in form the lobby. "Assign someone to this girl, she has paid her way."
"Yes mam" The maid responds. "Right this way Matron Kyra."
Kyra is unaccustomed to being called Matron. A term used patronizingly by servants towards those they serve. "Oh you don't need to call me that." Kyra says politely.
The maid looks over her shoulder as they walk beside a pool of steaming hot water filled with a number of bathing Anorans both male and female. "Yes, I do." her tone expresses all she needs to. The language is expected of her by Atta. Part of great illusion of grandeur she would rather uphold even at the expense of letting in someone like Kyra though. You see, the cost of a bath is set by the crown as all basic necessities are. This so called illustrious bath house costs no different than any other. Save for the unfair and frankly illegal expense of 100 bits Atta charged her though to Kyra it was worth it just to see the expression on her face.
The maid leads Kyra to the pools edge. Kyra slides in and lets the warm water soak into her fur. The maid disrobes and joins her. The maid wears a cloth towel wrapped around her head to signify to the rest she is an employee not a customer.
Anoran modesty is a tricky thing to an outsider. It is less a product of what should and shouldn't be seen.