As the night wore on, Moren savored a sip from her fresh tankard of ale and released a satisfied sigh. Veska's enchanting tune, sung in the exquisite celestial tongue, filled the tavern, prompting her to tap her foot in rhythm. Looking around, Moren noticed several other patrons doing the same, caught up in the jovial mood. Glancing over at Jaycen, she saw him nursing his first drink after watching the final matches conclude. Unlike her, he seemed to still be sober.
They had already secured their rooms for the night and changed out of their armor to unwind for the rest of the evening. Nox was content to lie under the table to keep an eye on them. However, Moren could already feel a slight buzz setting in.
Above them, Luna perched silently on a rafter beam, her golden eyes scanning the crowd with quiet vigilance. She ruffled her feathers occasionally, the dim light catching the flecks of copper in her tawny plumage.
Moren couldn't contain her laughter, seeing Veska's flushed cheeks from all the ale she had consumed. Gold freckles stood out on her face, making her look even more endearing. To help soak up some of the alcohol, Veska ordered another platter of food, and they both snacked on it while Veska sang various tunes to entertain them. Despite her attempts to order more ale,
Moren asked their waitress for pitchers of water instead. She sat with her hat off to the side, wearing her usual red button-up shirt with black suspenders over each shoulder.
Veska leaned over with a grin. "So, Detective Moren, how does carrying an official title feel? No more just 'Lady Ravenheart' or 'Moren the Veilborn Hunter.' You're the real deal now!" She raised her tankard and saluted her sister before taking a large gulp.
Moren rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the proud smile that crept onto her face. "I don't know if being called 'Detective' is really that big of a deal," she replied, though her voice had a touch of excitement. "I'm just the first for the city."
"Oh, don't be modest," Jaycen chimed in, clapping her on the shoulder. "Becoming a detective is no small feat, Moren. The Queen doesn't just hand out titles like that for the fun of it. She picked you because she knows you'll make a difference in White Stone." Jaycen wore a simple white tunic and black pants out of his usual plate armor.
Moren glanced down, a little flustered by their praise. "Well, I just want to help people who can't defend themselves and make the streets safer." She hesitated, glancing at them with a soft, determined smile. "And maybe change the way people think about the Ravenheart name." Moren felt Nox nudge her hand and scratched him behind the ear.
Veska nodded approvingly, her grin broadening. "See? That's the Detective Moren I know. And that's exactly why we're celebrating tonight!" She slammed her cup on the table, and some water sloshed onto it.
Jaycen raised an eyebrow with a chuckle. "You're not getting out of this one, Moren."
Veska raised her tankard again, her voice loud and clear. "To Moren, White Stone's newest Detective! May she solve mysteries, bring justice, and maybe—just maybe—catch a certain someone's attention."
Moren groaned as Veska winked at her, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "To do what's right," she added, lifting her own tankard with a determined gleam in her eye.
Jaycen raised his tankard as well. "And to friends who've got your back every step of the way."
They clinked their tankards together, the metallic chime resonating above the music. The three of them laughed and drank, the warmth of camaraderie settling into Moren's heart like a comforting weight. They shared stories of their past adventures, reminiscing about triumphant and ridiculous moments, each tale sparking laughter and drawing them closer.
Overhead, Luna let out a soft trill, her wings fluttering once as if raising a toast of her own. The sound drew a few glances, followed by smiles from nearby patrons who seemed to take her presence as a good omen.
As the night progressed, Veska reclined and gazed at Moren with softened eyes. "You know, Moren, I'm proud of you. You're taking on something big that not everyone would be brave enough to face. You're going to make a difference in this city. I know it."
Moren met her friend's gaze, feeling a swell of gratitude. "Thank you, Veska. And thank you both for being here with me. I couldn't ask for better friends or a sister."
The three of them shared more stories and laughter. Veska's eyes suddenly caught sight of someone at the main bar. A mischievous grin spread across her face, and she nudged Moren hard enough to nearly spill her drink.
"Well, well, well, look who just walked into our celebration," Veska said, barely able to contain her delight. She nodded toward the bar, where none other than Reza stood, her tall frame and wild hair unmistakable even among the crowd. She leaned casually against the counter, her muscular arms resting on the polished wood as she chatted with the bartender. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light of the tavern, and the faintest of smiles played on her lips as she sipped her drink.
Luna, still perched above, tilted her head at the rabbit woman's arrival, her gaze following Reza with faint curiosity. A low hoot escaped her as if sensing the shift in Moren's focus.
Moren's eyes followed Veska's gaze, and when she spotted Reza, her heart skipped a beat. Reza looked as fierce and captivating as ever, her powerful presence drawing the attention of everyone around her. But Moren felt thrilled and mortified, realizing Veska hadn't missed her reaction.
"Oh, Moren," Veska teased, leaning in close with a wicked grin. "There's your chance, Detective. I mean, you're officially a woman of authority now. Surely, you can go up to her and say a few words. Or… maybe you'd rather just keep staring?"
Moren's cheeks flushed a deep red. "I wasn't staring," she muttered, attempting to sound casual as she looked away, trying to hide the warmth creeping over her face. "I was just noticing her hair."
"Noticing? Right. I'm sure you were 'noticing' her impressive conversational skills," Veska replied, raising her eyebrows suggestively and gesturing to her chest. "Come on, Moren. She's right there. You can't just sit here and pretend you don't want to talk to her."
Jaycen, catching onto the exchange, chuckled and shook his head. "You know, Veska might have a point," he said, smirking. "A new detective shouldn't be so shy. Go on, Moren, give yourself a little credit."
Moren groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment. "I hate both of you," she mumbled, though her friends could see the shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Veska laughed, giving her a playful shove. "You're the brave Detective, right? You've stared down a wyvern and bandits and who knows what else. But a little harmless flirtation has you all flustered?"
Moren shot Veska a glare, though her embarrassment was evident. "It's different," she muttered, glancing back toward Reza, who was now laughing at something the bartender had said, her smile lighting up her entire face. Moren felt her heart race, and before she knew it, Veska pushed her off her seat.
"Go," Veska whispered, practically cackling with glee. "Before she leaves. Or before I embarrass you even more." Her smile promised that this would be just the beginning if Moren chickened out. She felt Nox rest his head on her lap, wanting more pets, and complied with the loving Fey Dog.
Moren took a deep breath, trying to summon the same confidence she had in battle, though it felt infinitely harder now. With one last glare at Veska, she slipped on her hat and steadied herself before making her way over to the bar, her heart pounding with each step.
As Moren made her way toward the bar, her eyes were fixed on Reza, trying to keep her nerves in check. They were strangers, but something about Reza had drawn her in from the moment she first saw her in the arena. She moved easily through the thinning crowd, as many patrons called it a night since they had to be up early in the morning for work.
She noted that Reza was still leaning against the bar, her massive frame relaxed as she nursed a large tankard of ale. In the other hand, she held a cigar, the rich, earthy smoke curling around her as she took a slow drag, her eyes half-closed in contentment.
The scent was surprisingly pleasant, mingling with the tavern's aromas of roasted meat and spilled ale as she grew closer. Her wild, ash-colored hair and fierce blue eyes made her stand out even more, her presence a magnet for anyone passing by.
Moren's eyes drifted to the woman's new attire as the last few people moved, giving her an unobstructed view. Reza wore the same simple pair of pants in the arena in a light gray, and her belt with the gold buckle was still around her waist. Reza's chest was now wrapped in a matching color cloth that only covered her breasts.
Moren's eyes were drawn to the woman's muscular body and the tribal tattoos that were now visible. Intricate black lines and designs covered Reza's entire right bicep, shoulder, and back on the right side before disappearing under the wrap. A simple tribal band wrapped around her left bicep seemed to stretch as the woman raised her arm to take another puff of her cigar.
Behind the bar, a stout dwarven woman stood before Reza, counting out coins. Moren recalled that Veska pointed the dwarf out earlier in the night as the owner of Alehouse, Dhoznabela Dimguard, but everyone called her Bela." Moren heard from her sister in great detail about how Bela built the place from a rundown Inn to the successful business it is today after 40 years of hard work.
Bela's hair was a striking mix of orange and gray, pulled back in a practical braid that fell over one shoulder. Her bar attire is a simple but well-made dark brown tunic with rolled-up sleeves, a sturdy leather apron, and comfortable and functional trousers, showing signs of wear from long hours spent behind the bar.
"Here's yer coin, Reza," Bela said with a smirk, her voice cutting clean through the din o' the tavern. She turned to Donarr and tossed him another pouch. "And yers too. Try not t' go blowin' it all on ink again, aye?"
Donarr's chest rumbles with a low snort. "Business is going well," he says in a deep, soothing tone. "But I can't seem to escape these persistent females who want me to mate with them." He lets out a frustrated sigh and clenches his hands into fists. "If I ever come across the author of that ridiculous book, Dragon Lover, I'll throttle him." Donarr moves his hands in front of him as if choking an invisible person, emphasizing his frustration.
Reza let out a snicker and placed her cigar on the ashtray. "Is that why those fathers were after you last week?" She took a slow, deliberate sip before Donarr responded with an obscene hand gesture.
"Don't bring it up," Donarr grumbled, quickly sliding his pouch into his pocket. "I can't make a decent living as a tattoo artist if I'm constantly being chased by overprotective fathers with daughters who are more than a little unhinged."
Bela let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying his discomfort , while Kalyndra chuckled softly, leaning against the bar nearby. "Ah, come now, Donarr. Part o' bein' famous, innit? Didn't ye always say ye wanted t' leave a mark on the world?" she snickered.
"With my art, not angry fathers," Donarr shot Bela a withering look, but before he could retort further, he noticed Moren approaching. "Can we help you?" He asked kindly and stepped back from the bar to make room for her.
Moren took a deep breath and stepped up to the bar beside Reza, her heart pounding. She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. "Mind if I buy you a drink?" She asked, placing a few gold coins on the counter.
Reza turned to her, her icy-blue eyes flicking over Moren with a hint of surprise. She studied her momentarily, clearly sizing her up, and Moren could feel the weight of her gaze. After a pause, Reza raised an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of curiosity and mild wariness.
"Bold of you," Reza replied, her voice smooth and low, with a faint edge to it. "But the good drinks don't come cheap in places like this. You sure you can handle that?" Her long rabbit ears twitched a few times before relaxing slightly.
Moren smirked, suppressing the fluttering sensation in her stomach. "I wouldn't offer if I couldn't back it up," she confidently responded, signaling for the bartender. "Your drinks are on me tonight." Moren turned to face Reza. "What can I get for you?"
"Bela," Reza stated while keeping her gaze fixed on the woman beside her. "A bottle of Fury's Ember." She picked up her cigar and took a quick puff before tilting her head and noticing the gold badge on the woman's belt. "My name is Reza Quickfoot, but I'm sure you already know that." Reza flashed the woman a fierce smile. "And you are?"
"I am Moren Ravenheart, at your service, Miss Quickfoot," she politely replied with a slight bow. "May I join you here?" She gestured towards the empty seat next to the rabbit woman.
"I'm definitely not a miss," Reza said, shrugging. "Sure, not like I own it," she replied in a bored tone. Bela returned with an amber-colored bottle with a dark liquid inside. "Perfect." Reza easily uncorked the bottle and filled her large glass to the brim. "So, why offer to buy me a drink, Detective?" Reza's eyes lingered on the badge for a moment.
"Today is my first day in Whitestone," Moren explained, taking the seat next to Reza and smiling at the woman. "The moment you walked into the arena, your commanding presence had my full attention."
Moren admired the woman's beautiful face. Sitting in front of Reza, Moren could see what she thought was war paint was really a black diamond tattoo on the center of her forehead with two diagonal lines from the side of her hairline going down to a thumb's width on each side of the diamond.
She also saw a few pale white scars marring the caramel-skinned woman's face from the right edge of her right eyebrow and across her nose, and a second scar right next to it. Moren still considered Reza to be one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.
Moren flashed Reza a sincere smile. "I just wanted to get to know the lovely warrior that stole the show, in my opinion." She said, accepting a new cup of ale from Bela with a brief nod, and returned her attention to Reza. Moren didn't notice around her that Bela and Donarr were staring at Moren with an incredulous look.
From her perch, Luna fluffed her feathers in visible amusement, her golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she watched her mistress work up the nerve. 'Finally.'
"Well, that's not something I hear every day," Reza murmured, her usual confident grin slipping into something more hesitant. She cleared her throat, glancing away for a brief moment before staring at Moren's emerald eyes again. "You sure you're not just trying to win me over for the night?"
Moren leaned a little closer, her expression steady and sincere. "No tricks," she replied, her voice gentle but unwavering. "I just think you deserve to hear it. You're strong and, honestly, kind of incredible. I admire that."
Reza let out a breath, her eyes searching Moren's face as if trying to find a hint of insincerity, but she found none. Slowly, a softer smile touched her lips, and her guarded demeanor melted a little, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability. "Guess I'm not as good at taking compliments as I am at swinging a Kanabo," she said, her tone quiet and almost shy. "But thank you, Moren."
Moren grinned, a warmth spreading through her chest. "Good. I was hoping you'd like it," she replied, her voice as soft as her smile.
Reza looked down momentarily as if gathering herself, then met Moren's gaze again, a spark of warmth and intrigue in her eyes. "Well, Detective, I have to admit… you're full of surprises. Not many people manage to catch me off guard."
"Maybe I'm just a different kind of challenge," Moren replied, her voice playful but carrying that same sincerity. She could see Reza relax, her usual fierce exterior softening just a bit.
"Yeah, maybe you are," Reza replied, her smile growing as she lifted her tankard in a quiet toast. "To unexpected challenges, then."
"Incredible," Bela whispered as she watched Moren bring out genuine laughter from Reza. "I wonder if Moren is the one who can finally break through to her." She took a moment to polish a few goblets with a rag, glancing over at Donarr.
"It's like witnessing a miracle," Donarr chuckled as he sketched a tattoo design onto a piece of parchment with charcoal. "Moren is the first person she's let get this close in years." His eyes lingered on Reza for a moment, softer than before. "Closer than I ever got, maybe," he added under his breath, not quite smiling.
"Aye, that it is," Bela agreed, filling a tray with drinks and passing them off to one of her waitresses. It was strange but wonderful to see Reza opening up like this.
"She'll sabotage it in a few minutes," Another voice joined in.
Donarr and Bela turned to look at the woman sitting at the end of the bar. The woman was tinkering with a disassembled pepperbox with goggles perched on her forehead. Her bright orange hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, revealing Half-Elf-like ears.
The woman's brown eyes were hyper-focused on the screwdriver twisting into the side of the weapon. A black tricorn hat was trimmed with yellow, and three eagle feathers lay on the counter. Her long black and yellow frock coat draped over the back of her chair. She wore a simple yellow long-sleeve tunic with a black under-corset, well-worn black pants, and scuffed black boots. The woman looked to be around 40, but they both knew she was older than that.
"Could be different this time, Kalyndra," Bela said with a sigh. "And fer gods' sake, ye can set that damn thing down and talk like a proper person, y'know.
Kalyndra spoke with a tone of matter-of-factness. "I'm just stating the truth," she said. "In the twelve years since Reza started coming to the Alehouse, she has been nice to someone until she gets bored, insults them, and makes them mad enough to storm off."
She held her Pepperbox up to the light to examine it before setting it down and wiping the barrels with a cloth. "And it's not uncommon for things to escalate even further."
"Your sister is right," Donarr agreed, exchanging a look with Bela. "Reza's one of my closest friends… maybe was more than that, once."
He let out a deep sigh and rested his elbows on the bar. "But she keeps everyone at arm's length—always has. That's just her way."
"Aye, I know," Bela grumbled, crossing her arms in frustration. "Only thing left t' do is hope fer a Everwarm miracle." She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost closing time for the Alehouse section. She needed to ensure the cleaning crew had finished in the arena area.
"We'll see," Donarr replied quietly, returning his focus to watching Moren and Reza.
Kalyndra tilted her head towards Reza and made a clicking noise with her tongue. "There it is," she said, gesturing towards them without looking. "Right on schedule."
Donarr and Bela turned their heads in unison to see the angry expression on Moren's face. "Damn," they both muttered under their breath.
Moren was utterly engrossed in her conversation with Reza. Despite Reza's tough demeanor and vibrant vocabulary, she turned out to be delightful company. Moren relished each moment they shared together.
Moren knew she was getting ahead of herself, considering this was their first meeting. So, she tried to keep things light and casual. With a sense of intrigue, Moren reached for the potent and fiery spirit called Fury's Ember that Reza had been drinking all night. Placing a coin on the table, she poured some into her tankard.
Reza watched with an amused glint in her eye and couldn't resist making a playful jab. "Careful there, princess," she teased, leaning closer. "That doesn't seem like the type of drink they serve at the Ravenheart estate."
"Princess?" Moren repeated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Why do you call me that?"
Reza gestured towards Moren with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "You seem so proper and polished, and that ring on your finger marks you as from a noble family." She taunted playfully. "Must be nice growing up surrounded by fancy clothes and a life of luxury." As Reza lit a new cigar and inhaled deeply, she blew out a cloud of smoke.
Moren scowled and defiantly raised the tankard to her lips. She noticed Reza watching her with that infuriatingly amused expression again. The scent of cinnamon and other spices wafted from her drink, tempting Moren to prove herself. Determined, she took a larger sip of the fiery beverage than planned.
The impact was immediate. Fury's Ember was aptly named. It hit her throat like a wave of molten lava, burning all the way down and igniting her chest with an uncomfortable heat. Moren's eyes widened as the taste settled, harsh and bitter, with an afterburn that felt like her lungs were aflame.
She barely managed to swallow before she doubled over, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air as her throat and lungs struggled to adjust.
Reza's laughter erupted like a torrential downpour, her eyes alight with sadistic glee. "Oh, did I forget to mention?" she taunted, a predatory grin spreading across her face. "That drink isn't for pampered palates."
Moren glared at her through watery eyes, forcing herself to straighten even as she fought back another round of coughs. "I'm fine," she croaked, though her voice cracked as if betraying her struggle. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to look nonchalant, but the fiery sensation lingered, making it hard to keep her composure.
Reza's laughter grew louder and more piercing, fueled by her imperviousness to the drink. She continued to gulp it down with reckless abandon, her cocky smirk daring Moren to keep up. "Admit it," she jeered. "You're way out of your depth." A smug satisfaction glinted in her eyes as she reveled in Moren's discomfort. "Looks like my hopes were too high for a pampered noble like you."
Moren's expression hardened. "Have a good evening, Miss Quickfoot," she said coldly, pulling out a handful of coins from the counter and turning to leave in a huff. Moren was more than a little disappointed with Reza's attitude and decided to call it a night.
In the process, her arm swung into Reza's mug, sending it splashing the precious liquid across Reza's chest and lap. "Dammit." She cursed under her breath.
Reza glared at Moren with a scowl, her favorite drink covering her torso and lap. "You just made me angry, princess," she growled, wiping the Fury's Ember from her breasts and feeling a tingling sensation where the liquor had trickled down her skin. "This is too valuable to be wasted like that!"
Moren let out a heavy sigh and lowered her head in apology. "I am sincerely sorry," she said with regret. "That was not my intention. Please, allow me to fix it." With a swift wave of her hand, Moren cast Minor Manfiestation and cleaned the spilled drink from Reza's body and clothes. "There, everything is back to normal."
Reza raised an eyebrow as Moren's spell erased any trace of the accident. She glanced down at her now clean clothes and then back up at Moren with a smug grin. "Well, well, look at you," she sneered, crossing her arms. "Your magic can clean up a mess, but it doesn't make you tough, princess. What good is all that fancy magic if you can't handle yourself in a real fight?"
Moren clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as she met Reza's gaze with cold fury. "And what good is that rough attitude of yours if all you do is belittle others?" she retorted, her voice laced with restrained anger.
Reza's smirk only grew wider. "I had high hopes for you, Ravenheart. I thought maybe you were different from the other nobles who pranced around with titles they didn't earn. Looks like I was wrong." She turned to leave but then paused and added, "Go on, princess—run back to your fancy estate."
A sharp hoot from above broke the heavy silence, Luna's silhouette shifting against the rafters. Her feathers bristled with agitation, as if responding to the emotional undercurrent between the two women.
Moren took a deep breath, her fists clenched. She was more than ready to walk away and forget this night, but Reza's words hit deep. With each taunt, each sneering insult, Moren felt the anger bubbling up, her pride stinging in a way that wouldn't let her turn her back.
"Fine," Moren said, her voice sharp and clear, catching Reza's attention. "If that's what you think of me, then let's settle this. Right here, right now."
Reza turned back, surprise flashing across her face before being replaced with a wicked gleam. "Oh, now we're talking. Finally, ready to prove yourself?" She started to crack her knuckles one finger at a time.
Moren nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Let's see if you're as tough as you pretend to be."