Pushing open the door proved to be anti-climatic. The door opened directly into a common room, with a few tables scattered around. On the left was a huge fireplace, maybe better described as a hearth, and the fire burning there was obviously intended to roast what looked like some kind of pig.
"Obelix would like this place," Bridget commented, making me wonder briefly if she had developed an ability to read my mind.
On the left of the room, running the length of the wall, was a bar counter. We stood for a few seconds, allowing our eyes to adjust to the gloom before there was a disturbance in the bead curtained doorway behind the bar, which parted to admit a heavily bearded man.
I stared at him for a few moments without speaking because something about the way he looked struck me as just wrong.
"[He's a Dwarf]," Brad interjected, making me feel relieved because I hadn't been able to place what was wrong. As soon as he said that, everything clicked into focus for me and I realised that this was not like someone from Earth suffering from 'dwarfism', but rather someone who was completely in proportion, who was in fact a heavily muscled man, but was just short.
I had to take two steps towards the bar counter before I was able to see far enough over it to realise that the entire floor behind the counter was raised. The man, dwarf that is, was about four feet tall. The platform was raised far enough so that just over a foot of his height was visible over the counter. It was obviously designed to make it comfortable for him to work the counter.
"Good Eve to you, Gentle Folk, and welcome to the Dragon's Wing," he greeted us. Then I saw a look of shock on his face as he stared past me. "What in the name of the Goddess is THAT doing here?"
I turned to look where he was pointing and saw that it was at S'Alor, who was obviously interested in the smells wafting from the roasted pig, and had wandered out from behind the rest of us to investigate. When I turned back to the dwarf, I could see that his initial shock had turned to determination. He was now holding a double-bladed axe. I paused for a moment to admire it, while I considered what a formidable weapon it might make in competent hands, and the hands holding it certainly appeared to be competent.
"Sorry to startle you, but that is just S'Alor," I tried to reassure him, "one of our companions."
"A companion, you say? One of the new terrors of the forest. You certainly pick strange companions."
"Even so, that is what he is. We are here to stay the night," I said, trying to get the conversation back on track. "I have a letter here." I stepped forward and handed the letter I had been given to the Dwarf.
The dwarf seemed reluctant to relax his vigilance, never mind the death-grip he had on his axe, and shifted his gaze to me in a manner that told me that our whole party had been evaluated as being on probation. We might have stood there in that Mexican-standoff for a long time, but just then, a voice interrupted us.
"Oh Daffid, they are fine. The beautiful cat seems friendly enough. Why not put down your toy and welcome our guests properly?"
I whipped my head around at the first sound of this voice. I was utterly captivated: I had heard the phrase 'dulcet tones' before, and never really understood it. This voice epitomised it for me.
I had to hunt for the source of the voice for a few seconds, and then saw the hem of a dark blue dress that was caught by the light from the fire. Once I had that visual clue, I was able to make out a shadowy form standing on the bottom step of a staircase that I hadn't noticed. 'The staircase must lead to the upper levels of the Inn,' I thought to myself.
"Good Evening, my lady," I greeted the woman, "I must thank you both for you timeous intervention as well as your acceptance of my companion."
"It is of no matter," she replied matter-of-factly, "not everyone relies on outer appearance to judge character."
At first, I thought she was warning me that she would have some horrible disfigurement that she was referring to, but as I thought that, she stepped down and moved out of the shadows.
My first thought was how tall she was; a total contrast to the still muttering dwarf. At a guess, she was just over six feet and five inches. Tall in any context. She had honey blond hair tied up in two braids, one on each side of her head, and reminded me of nothing less than one of Wagner's Valkries. Her face was all hard planes and sharp angles and did nothing to detract from my first impression of her as the Über warrior women. While her long flowing dress was beautiful, and complimented her figure perfectly, I couldn't suppress a touch of disappointment that she wasn't dressed in some sort of Warrior Maiden's outfit, with a steel bra and a wisp of fabric around her hips.
"I'm sure you're right, Milady," I responded once I could reign in my thoughts and find my voice. "I am Cy Peters, and these are my companions," I said and proceeded to introduce them all.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, “you can call me D’ar’Beth.”
“[amusement]” came from S’Alor.
“[What’s tickled you, S’Alor?]” I asked him.
“[What she said about ‘outer appearance’,]” he answered cryptically.
“[Oh?]” I queried him.
“[Later,]” was all I got in response.
“I will leave you to the tender mercies of Daffid. I am sure he can settle you in quite comfortably. Maybe once you have settled and relaxed a bit, we can have a chat,” D’ar’Beth said before gliding elegantly back up the stairs.
As I watched her disappear, I belatedly decided to take notice again of my mind map. It had finally started to recover from the sensory overload that the heavily populated town had provided. I looked to see whether I could follow D’ar’Beth and was not too surprised that there was something different about the way she looked in my map. She seemed to be a denser presence than any of the other people, and I decided that I needed to take note of what S’Alor had said about appearances. She was very clearly more than what she appeared.
I turned to Daffid, who had emerged from behind the bar counter, and asked him, “Who is D’ar’Beth?”
“She is who she is. What she is, is her own business which she will tell you or not, just as she decides. If you will follow me …” he replied.
“I shrugged and picked up my kit and followed Daffid as he led the way up the stairs. The rest of my Finger followed along behind me, peeling off in twos as Daffid allocated us rooms.
Once I had dumped my kit in the room I was to share with Brad and S’Alor, I made my way to the communal bathroom at the end of the corridor, where I was delighted to find copper baths supplied with hot water. Once I had bathed and put on clean clothes, I went down to the common room below.
As I descended into the room, I noticed that a few of the tables were occupied, and realised that people were probably gathering for supper and the evening’s entertainment. I selected a table near to the fireplace that I thought would accommodate the whole Finger. S’Alor accompanied me closely and slipped under the table, out of the way.
When Daffid noticed me sitting there, he waved at me and a few minutes later I saw a short woman approaching the table. She looked like a female twin of Daffid, so I guessed she was part of his family.
“Greetings, I am Greta Daffid’son, and I will serve you this evening. You can have the house soup if you wish, but the roast pork is the main meal we are serving this evening.”
“Thank you Greta, I think I’ll have the pork,” I answered her, “and my companions all the same as they arrive, please.”
“With pleasure,” Greta said and turned and left.
