To the Rusty Dragon Inn (Shaka)

Shaka settled onto the chair, hearing it groan underneath his weight as most chairs usually did anywhere other than back in his home village. Really, most chairs, beds and everything else in towns and villages like Sandpoint were built for the average sized human or smaller - dwarves, halflings and the like could all fit in or on a chair or bed made for a human or elf.

There weren’t many folk the size of Shaka and his people.

The four of them, Shaka, Anjella, Grail and Colt, all sat at the round table in the back of the Rusty Dragon common room. The Inn was busy, both travelers and locals gathering in equal parts in either somber desire for drink, or a celebration of life. Both were valid reactions in Shaka’s opinion - many of these people had never experienced something like the goblin raid before. Even some of those at the table.

“Colt Caudex, you need a drink,” Shaka said.

The human man had been staring at the table top, his hands flat on the smooth, worn surface. He blinked and looked up at Shaka. “I think I really do,” he said.

In short order Anjella had poured out the coin purse that the nobleman from Magnimar had thrust upon her. Just under fifty gold, easily a season's income for any common farming family. It was an astounding amount to drop into someone's lap, and even split four ways it could cover a month living in a fine Inn like the Rusty Dragon for each of them.

“First round’s on me,” Grail said, scooping up her share and turning to head towards the bar, but was stopped by the approaching owner of the Inn.

“No, first round is on me,” Ameiko said loudly, calling attention from the other patrons of the Inn. “Any friend of Shaka Shale is a friend of mine, and after what you all did tonight I think the entire town will be lining up to purchase your drinks for a while. Isn’t that right everyone?”

Many in the bar stood up, loosing a cheer.

“Ale for the Heroes of Sandpoint!” Ameiko said, sliding a platter onto their table, seven large tankards on top.

The drinking began, and Shaka drained his first in one go, his hand wrapping around the tankard as a regular man might a simple cup. He took up a second and sipped at it, smiling at the cold wash down his throat.

“Shaka Shale, if I didn’t know any better I would think you might actually be enjoying yourself,” Ameiko said, taking a seat at the table.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Shaka said, but smiled. He had first met Ameiko out in the wilds when she and several other young folk had been out ‘adventuring.’ They had been tracking rumours of a tribe of cannibals up near the Fogscar Mountains - at the time Ameiko had been bright and sunny, quick with a song on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. She’d also been smitten with a priest of Shelyn who had been about her age.

“Of course not,” Ameiko said. She patted his big knee, which didn’t fit under the table. “You know, that first time I saw you, I wasn’t sure whether you were even real or not”

“That’s because you were half drunk on the poison of a whipper thorn,” Shaka laughed, remembering how she’d been getting half-dragged along by her friends through the forests.

“Very fair,” Ameiko said. She looked around the table at the other, and saw they were all busy with their own conversations. “Now, tell me about your friend there, Shaka,” she said, nodding towards Anjella. “Are you two together?”

Shaka sat back and shook his head. “No, no. We met on the road, not even a full day ago. Happenstance brought us back together during the fighting. She is… prickly.”

“So you’re not planning to bed her, then?” Ameiko asked.

Shaka had been taking a sip from his tankard, and sputtered in surprise at the bluntness of the young woman. “I’m sorry? Ah, no,” he said. “Not that she isn’t- But she and I… It’s been..”

Ameiko grinned. She had matured since he’d last seen her. It hadn’t been so long ago, but gone was the softness in her cheeks and around her eyes. And now she stood a little taller, a little more self assured - or rather she sat as such, lounging back. She was more than a rebellious youth - she was a woman, she owned her own Inn.

“Sorry, big man,” she said, looking anything but. “I just figured, with your blood up and all, and knowing how your magic tends to affect people, you might have had some thought as to how you’d spend your evening.”

“It’s been a long time since I planned anything more than a spot by a fire,” Shaka said.

Ameiko stood, only just as tall as Shaka sitting down, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, since you’re out of practice - it’s been a while for me too, though not so long I would bet. Shaka Shale, would you like to share my place by the fire tonight?”

Shaka blinked, and then drained the rest of his drink and looked her up and down. Anjella’s words from earlier in the night rang in his ears, ‘You don’t know anything, do you?’

She was a woman now. Her hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, rubbing at it as she raised a delicate eyebrow and waited for his reply.

“Ameiko,” Shaka said.

She leaned down and put her lips to his ear to whisper. “I want you, Shaka. I ask for nothing more than a night, at the moment. Our blood is up, and the Stag Lord isn’t against mating season, is he?”

“It will not be easy,” Shaka said quietly, trying not to be heard by anyone else. “It will not be gentle.”

Ameiko pressed her body to his back, leaning her head over his shoulder and looking him in the eye. “When did I ask you to make love to me? I want to fuck.”

Shaka set his tankard down and stood to follow.

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