It was inevitable that we would be the center of attention. Even in a magical fantasy world, a wolf the size of a horse and wearing armor and a girl with wings had to be out of the ordinary. Naturally, even though the city was fairly busy with the normal day to day traffic, people made a path for us (or, rather, Frostmane) wherever we went. At least, that’s what happened in the nicer parts of town.

Of course, once we started making our way to the docks, the crowd started getting rougher, and there were more people who looked like adventurers roaming the streets. More than once, I saw a few people who were clearly thinking about making trouble, but refrained when they saw that, wherever we went, the City Guard was close at hand. Clearly, someone thought that we would be a lightning rod for trouble, and didn’t want anything starting in the city.

“Hmph. The humans in this town are weak and cowardly. Do you really think that we’ll find someone worth taking on our journey?”

I smiled as Frostmane spoke loud enough for the latest group of toughs to hear. Being talked down to by a wolf was going to have to hurt their pride. But I knew they wouldn’t do anything while the guards were watching us, to make sure that we didn’t start anything.

“Now, now, Frostmane. We aren’t looking for any of these types. According to the directions that we were given, the tavern should be right up ahead. Actual adventurers will be there, not street toughs.”

The winter wolf chuffed in amusement, and we continued on our way. With people clearing out of our path, it didn’t take us long to find our destination. The Plain Sail Tavern was within sight of the docks, close enough that she could smell the salt in the air, and hear the sounds of ships in port. Even if they didn’t find someone to join them, they could probably find crews of ships that would take them elsewhere, at the very least.

The outside of the bar was a simple wooden façade, like all the buildings in the area. While it wasn’t especially cheap-looking, it had an aged appearance. The paint had dulled after several winters, and even the sign had clearly been hanging for years. I could see signs of rust on the chain links holding the sign up. The place had clearly seen better days, if not years.

A wave of sound greeted us as I opened the door, the typical bustle and commotion of people relaxing amongst alcohol and companions after a long day’s work. I’d become familiar enough with it in Sleetmouth. However, the moment we stepped into the light of the tavern, the sounds stopped, as all eyes turned on us.

Melinda’s Spot check: 1d20+2 = 18

I scanned the crowd as they looked at the two of us. Most were probably simply looking to see if a friend came in, but their eyes focused on Frostmane in fear and confustion. A few, though, I could recognize as hunters. Well, maybe not actual hunters, but they were not looking at Frostmane and myself and seeing a wolf and a girl. They were evaluating us, trying to decide if they were looking at potential threats, potential competitors, potential assets, potential allies, or some combination of the four. I made note of those people. They were the ones that we needed to meet, eventually. They were almost certainly the adventurers in the room.

There was a man in simple work clothes behind the bar. He was a human, and heavy-set, though not fat. He was no young buck, but his weight looked to be mostly muscle. Not a warrior though, she could tell that much by how he moved. I liked to think that long years of labor, probably behind that bar, had hardened his body, kept him from getting soft. Like the rest of the bar, he was looking at us. Unlike the rest of the bar, he spoke as he moved to the end of the bar nearest the door.

“Oy! We don’t want any trouble in here, so if you’re starting something, take it outside! Don’t think I won’t call the guards on you if you start causing a ruckus!”

Melinda’s Diplomacy Check: 1d20+13 = 17

I smiled, and said, as diplomatically as I could, and loud enough for the bar to hear, “That’s all right, then. My companion and I have just come from the North, with the caravan. We’ve set out from the lands we know, looking for a change in fortune. One of the merchants told us this would be a place where we might find potential associates to share the journey with, and who might not be disagreeable to walking alongside an Aurelite and a Winter Wolf.”

“Hmph. That must have been Merdith. Always sending trouble my way, ever since… well, never you mind.” Though he sounded like he was grumbling, the barman appeared to be in better humor. Well, it wasn’t my best speech, but it did the job, at least. Looking back at us, he said, “Fine, I won’t be throwing out travelers, so long as they have the coin, but don’t be expecting us to have facilities for wolves. Druids and ranger type folk stay closer to nature, not down by the docks.”

He paused, and then said, “And if you’re staying the night, you’ll be sharing a private room. Not letting either of ya stayin’ in the common room.” I looked at him quizzically, and he just shook his head. “What you do out of my place, I don’t much care. But little slip of a thing younger than my daughter sleeping in a common room with this lot?” He turned a half-hearted scowl to his patrons. “That’s begging for trouble. An’ yer friend there is a whole ‘nother round of trouble, for obvious reasons. Naw, if’n yer stayin’, it’ll be in a private room, and that’ll be a gold a night, for the two of ya stayin’ in the same room, but includes a bath for both of ya. You want meals for yourself, that’s another three silver, includes a pint of ale each meal. Don’t have anything fit for wolves.”

A gold coin for a room was a little much, but I guessed that was simply something that happened when you brought a winter wolf to an inn. I nodded to the bartender, and said, “Very well. We’ll take the room, and I’ll have a meal. You need not worry about Frostmane’s meals, we’ve already provided for his needs.”

I handed over a gold and three silvers, and the barkeeper handed me a key as the noise began to return to the room. “Right then, your room’s number six. Up the stairs on the second floor, big number painted on the door. Anything left in the room ain’t my responsibility. Name’s Bartly, and I run this place. You two go and find a seat, and Ismey will bring yer meal out to ya when its ready.”

Scanning the room, I saw that there was one table that was, as yet, unoccupied. It was on the far wall, away from the bar. The reason it was empty was immediately obvious. On one side was a group of dwarven adventurers, and on the other side was a group that included a pair of elves. The two groups were glaring and muttering at each other, but, so far, nothing more had happened. The other patrons didn’t want to either get involved, or get caught in the middle. Can’t say as I blamed them, but since it was the only table, I sat, with Frostmane settling on the ground beside me, his head still at my height, despite sitting down.

I reached into Frostmane’s bag, and pulled out some of the meat his mystic saddlebag provided. He licked his lips appreciatively as I tossed him the piece, catching it in his jaws. I smiled, and said, softly, “Well, Furball, who do you think will be the first to approach us?”

He chuffed. We knew that there were several pairs of eyes on us, trying not to stare too hard. We’d basically announced that we were looking to get new people for a party, and see what kind of adventures we could get up to. Of course, we didn’t have any idea of the adventures we might find. Perhaps we should have started with looking for work, and then looked for people?

Frostmane considered the question as he swallowed the chunk of meat, and I tossed him another. “Hard to say. The scents are strange here. Everything stinks of ale, and I can’t get a read on the rest. Still…”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as a young woman, probably only a few years older than me, but she’d started developing curves, which her outfit enhanced, without being suggestive. She smiled nervously as she approached to set a plate and mug before me, along with a knife and fork. She kept looking over at Frostmane so much she almost knocked over my ale!

“Relax. He’s not going to bite you, unless you do something to annoy him. Frostmane doesn’t like the taste of tavern girls anyway, do you?”

The wolf gave me a look. One that promised that we’d be talking about this later. Still, he said, “No, too small and soft. Not enough meat on her, and not worth the trouble of dealing with the guards.”

The girl giggled nervously, and said, “I’m Ismey. You need anything else, you just let me know, OK?” I nodded to her, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she was looking at Frostmane, but with a different kind of nervousness from before. “Your fur is so pretty! Can I pet you?”

I stifled my laughter by turning to face my food. It wasn’t anything special. Some roasted meat, what looked like mashed potatoes covered in gravy, and some boiled carrots. Not exactly high society, but it was simple, easy to make, and hard to screw up. The ale was good, though, as far as such things go. Don’t think it was watered down in the slightest.

Frostmane grumped, but consented to the petting and compliments with the smug satisfaction of any self-centered male who had a female (of any species) singing his virtues. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as Ismey finally returned to the kitchen after Bartly called for her. As I chucked another piece of meat to him, I said, “You know, we should let you be in charge of finding people. The floofy ambassador to the southlands, that’s what you’ll be.”

The Wolf growled softly at me, but there was no threat in it. “You just can’t accept that people naturally admire my perfect coat. At any rate, as I said, I think we’ll have visitors sooner, rather than later, now that you’ve got food, and they’ve seen me eating. They have the proper respect for one such as myself, you see. Unlike a certain Little Bird.”

I laughed, and scratched Frostmane behind the ears, in that way that always made his eyes close in pleasure. “Aww, Furball, you know I love you. Don’t worry, we’ll find some good party members, and then we’ll find some job worth doing. Something we can use to get our skills up.”

Frostmane chuffed happily as I scratched his ears, but he didn’t allow me to continue for too long, turning his head to look across the room at a pair of adventurers who were making their way over to us across the tavern. Looked like the floofball was right, we were getting people interested in us and ready to talk, now that it became clear we weren’t going to be a problem in the bar. Well, it was probably Frostmane letting himself be petted that eased their worries enough, but I’m sure he would hate it if I mentioned that anywhere that other people could hear me. Sounded like a fun idea…

As they got closer, one of the adventurers smiled at me, and said, “Hello. You are travelers looking for adventure, yes? Would you be interested in joining our group? We have a job that we could use more people on, if you’re willing.”