Let The Festivities Begin!

Belle bursted through the backdoor of the tavern's kitchen. Luckily, her corset remained intact on the journey there, and no one spared a second glance at her bountiful goods, their attention more focused on the street performers, or their one night(?) flings. It irked her on how people this time of year seem so lax, so drunk on the passions of the flesh. That they find themselves intertwined with the ones that, if the urban legend is to be believed, their soulmate.

Not that it made her jealous. Dwarves aren't exactly known for handholding, picnics next to a lazy river, or being bridal carried down an aisle by some meat headed bloke. If her Da was any indication, It's more one night stands, or something prearranged by customs.

Whatever those customs were.

Belle thought to herself as she went to the sinks’ and washed her palms. She asked her father who her mother was. At one point she thought it was Mrs.Lovebottom. A guess that Stollen quickly tore down with a solid “No.”

“Your mother was a dwarf Rune, remember that, no matter what others say otherwise.” he said when she was eight years old, tending to some cuts on her cheek after a scrap with the local boys. She pry deeper on the subject as the years went on. Whether she was alive or dead, Why there wasn't a single picture of her to gaze upon. Who she was, or where she’s from. All of it falling on deft ears, or was given a cryptic answer, “She’s where she needs to be.” he’d say. Earning a frown from the ruby ginger haired girl, but even she could see the sadness when she’s brought up. An old scar that never truly healed.

She wiped her soaked hands on the apron to dry. It’s been awhile since she had drifted towards those questions. And her Da, It felt as if she’s still forgotten-

The bar opened as the waiter hobbled in, The cane still present in his grip, but lacking the weighted lean he put on it before. Gone were the bandages and gaze, replaced with a velvety jade vest with a bowtie. His left eye now obscured by an eyepatch instead of cloth bindings.

Roland quickly maneuvered to set down a tray of empty glasses onto the nearby table. He was mumbling to himself, his focus clearly elsewhere as he didnt seem to take in the dwarfs' presence.

Strangely, .this angered her, “Ey!cloowd kessin doehmbass!! De fuck are you doin?!

That seemed to catch his attention as he jumped in his skin and quickly scanned the room, His eyes falling down on her, “Belle?! You're here! What-”

She stomped his way, hands on her hip as she gave him a familiar scowl,"Dahn't 'what' me!! What are you doin out of bed?! Last din i need is you 'avin anahther faintin spell and boehstin yooehr skoehll ahn da kitchen floor!"

Roland scratched the nape of his neck, clearly unused to confrontation, “W-Well, I’m helping with the serving? Rose needed backup, and you weren't here so-”

A sharp sting of guilt pierced her before she shoved it down, “W-Well I'm ‘ere now!! “ She took a look around, the place was nowhere near the routine mess it would have been during what had to be rush hour, “Where is she anyway? She usually mans the kitchen.”

This got a smirk out of the human boy, “Believe it or not, She’s sleeping upstairs. I was able to, well, get some help.” he gestured to his left. Belle’s eyes widening at the floating trays and self washing dishes that levitated to and from the sinks and rack. Glowing sigils shown to have been carved into the wooden frame of the cabinets. Pulsing with an aura that she knew all too well. If she had to choose between “Divine Intervention” and “Arcane Crafts”, she would have to go with the latter. Blessings from Gods, real or not, are fickle, and can fail you if your “faith” is lost. Arcane Crafting is just understanding enchantments, nullifying, and basic “magic rules”. Even so, such a thing is rare to see, and the only who would have access to such knowledge was-

Belle cheeks reddened as she growled, “So, Eileen was here huh?! You to get along alright?! Must have gotten real chummy with each other for her to spread her legs like this!” she roared as she prodded a finger into his chest.

Roland grimaced, his eye darting and twitching before he answered, “Well uh actually, It was more of an apology for an incident that occurred earlier. No uh, “leg spreading” from her. I promise.”

Belle looked him up and down, before softening her gaze, her cheeks still smothering to the touch,“G-Good, shouldn’t be looking to have someone jumping your bones tonight anyhow!”

She took the knapsack that hung from her belt and hooked it around his shoulder, “Well, anyway, here's your things for the trip to the capital, We’ll be leaving with the first sight of sunrise.”

Roland took the satchel, frowning, “So soon? I figured that it'd take a bit longer to prepare, since from what I heard, it’s not close by, and this is just what-” He looked to the bag, spotting sapphire pouches that held a familiar weight to them, a map, His grandfather's textbook-

Roland’s eyes widened before he looked towards the dwarf, “Belle? Where are the keys?”

Belle's expression took on a confused look, “Keys? Wha keys?”

Roland blinked, his words fumbling before he continued, “You know, the keys? The ones that seemed to be a big deal to your dad and my grandfather? I was nearly killed for them?” Panic took hold as his gaze rattled, “Christ! People were killed for them! Where are they Belle?!”

“C-Cool yooehr stahnes, clooehd kesser! i'm sure dat whatever it is, it's naht impahrtant-"

GONG! GONG!

The church bell silenced the both of them. The door of the tavern opened up to let excited tavern goers leave for the start of the Solstice. Following a loud clattering and thunk from above them.

Hard footfalls traveled downstairs as Rose stuck her head in the kitchen. Gone was her waitress outfit replaced with something more festive. Her hair done up in an impressive Victorian beehive, a risque corset hugging her middle. Revealing her freckled bosom, while hiding everything else waist down, “Belle you made it!!!! Come on! I got your clothes to change into!” The hobbit was clearly giddy, bouncing up and down as she grabbed onto Belle’s arm, pulling her up to the changing room, “You're going to loooove it! The front even stretches so you don’t have to worry about-”

Roland didn’t hear the rest, his mind elsewhere as sound went mute. So many pieces moving at once, and he still hasn't a clue if it was a game of roulette or chess. The keys were gone, Belle looked as if she never had heard of the damn things, and Stollen…

Roland…

What is Stollen doing?

Roland…..

Has the tavern always been so dark? He can’t hear the tourists outside…Nor anything upstairs…

“By the silent sea and falling stars! WAKE UP!

Sensation and sound flooded back as Ahva's voice flooded his skull. She sounded panicked, the fog of confusion slowly lifting from his senses.

“Jesus, the hell's your-”

-SKKT!-

The only way he could describe the sensation in his chest was, strangely, A dark rose blooming from his insides. Through the back, straight through the front.

It had to be that. How else could he explain the thick red polluting his vest?

He felt a boot to the back as the assassin pulled the scimitar from her target. A splattering of blood spewing like a fountain of its own. Landing in a heap face first in his own fluids.

The Assassin allowed him to gaze upon her. A soul should see their executioner, if only to judge their killer past ****, and thrusted her blade once more upon him.

She sighed, She had not planned on working today, but fates and fortunes have always been an ill thing to worship. Still to kill an innocent-

No

Innocent or not, A contract was a contract, and he was a high priority.

She let the blade pin his body to redding wood, pulling out a small set of knives and a short blade as she walked up the stairs.