Play it by ear; Take the chance if it comes, but don't take a risk.

"Ah. . ." I reached up and scratched behind my ears, fixing a sheepish smile on my face. "This is a bit awkward."

"What?"

"I'm a traveler, and I don't have any money. Is there, by chance, some work I could be doing around here?" I brought my voice higher, playing on my relative youth. I don't think it was working though, she was looking at me with suspicious eyes. I couldn't see why she would be so suspicious, though.

I mean, it could be the bags under my eyes, or my messy black hair, my unwashed skin and clothes, or the wicked dagger at my waist. . .

Well, actually, I could easily see why. It was still annoying.

"I don't reckon that there is work for you."

"How about for someone cleaner than me? I could hop in the river, if you like." I changed tack, slowly returning my voice to it's normal tone. If youthful earnestness wouldn't work, than maybe self-deprecation would carry the day. To my credit, the innkeeper's lips twitched in a smile.

"I'll apologize for the assumption, stranger." She said, leaning onto the countertop. The neckline of her shirt dipped and gave me a flash of her minor cleavage. She seemed oblivious to both my wandering eye and its source and, deep down, I felt a surge of shame in my human blood. Odd, that; the clear separation drawn in my mind between that which I was and that which I was becoming. It seemed a natural thing, to me, given the stark difference and the sudden occurrence of my circumstances. "But I still don't have any work for you. There's been some trouble around here, starting a few weeks back. They say some witch set up camp in the forest, and they been raising dead things. Two men have already been attacked, and it's put the whole town on edge. Business is bad because of it; even if I trusted you, stranger, I don't reckon I could find the spare coin to pay you."

"I see." I didn't really know what to think about that, especially with the tantalizing view, but it didn't seem likely that I'd get a chance to work my 'magic'. Or get a chance to practice my actual magic.

"You didn't hear about it?" The Innkeeper asked idly, pulling a bottle from the back of her counter. It was a weak mead, I recognised the band. "Thought the news stretched from here to Weismeira."

"I came from the other direction." I said after a moment. "From a little village some six weeks off."

"Quite the distance. What brings you here?"

"Just. . ." I shugged, thumping the wire-hilt of my dagger. "Nothing, I guess."

"Ahh, that type. Left your village searching adventure, never thinking about what you need." She said it confidently, as if she'd seen a thousand examples. Something about that annoyed me. I saw her jump, suddenly straightening, as a pain shot through my eyes. The pain faded as soon as it had arrived, but the Innkeeper still held herself with evident surprise.

"Problem?"

"No. Thought I saw something, stranger."

"Ikarus Vhalnich." I said, a lesser irritation running through me.

"Alright. I'm Nadia Aidana." She was speaking apprehensively now. I figured she'd seen something of the demon in my eyes, and if I didn't act soon, then she'd probably chase me from the inn or call in the militia. People had been accused for less. The question was. . .