3: Black Thorne Tavern

As the warmth of the tavern began to soak into her bones, Noir finally relaxed. Not that the journey here had been too arduous. Once she had crossed the mountains, the roads were well traveled and the conflicts in the north had made most bandits move away from the paths of the armies. Still, the stress of not knowing what had happened to her Baba had worn on her. Barely a month ago she had been contentedly studying in her rooms at the academy; only three weeks ago she was looking at the burnt out ruins of her grandmother’s house. 

When she first heard about the trouble in the Marche, she had packed her bag, left her college, and rushed home. All she found was ashes. Her grandmother's once beautiful treehouse was nothing but charred stumps. The town nearby had been razed. All burned, everything of value gone. No one living, no people, no livestock, but also no bodies. Baba was gone, too, but whether she had fled or been captured by the Usurper's men there was no clue. She had found little when she combed through the debris of Baba's house. A small obsidian mirror, a thin copper bracelet, a polished red sphere made of some sort of stone. She'd stowed all that in her pack and moved on. Lost in her memories, she took another sip of the wine. 

"Hello there. Enjoying your drink? What's that you're reading?" The woman who plopped into the seat across from Noir was very pretty with large violet eyes and two tiny horns peeking through her thick dark curls. Her voluptuous curves were barely covered by a diaphanous gown and her fingers sparkled with numerous rings. Noir felt a frisson of sexual energy shiver around the room with the sound of the woman's low and seductive voice. There was just the barest hint of compulsion there. She raised her mental shields. Someone less aware would likely want to tell this woman anything, do anything she asked. Someone with no shields would be at a risk of falling hopelessly in love. 

Noir smiled and sipped her wine slowly before answering. "Hello yourself. So, are you truly curious or is this an opening line in a seduction attempt?" She closed the book, laid it on the table, one hand on it protectively, and looked the woman in the eye. 

A tinkling laugh spilled out of the woman, drawing the attention of several male customers around the bar. "Awww, Sugar, you can't blame a girl for trying!" she said with a wink. "I'm Doxryllia ap Illyianiish, but you can call me Doxy. I run the brothel upstairs. So if you are lonely, I can find you anyone, either to seduce or be seduced by! But really I am just curious. We don't get a lot of people who come here to read." 

Noir laughed. "Well, I'll warn you, I am always reading something. This time it's an herbal by a fellow named Culpepper. Lots of good recipes." 

"Like cooking recipes? I am not much for cooking." 

"Healing tisanes and poultices, beauty treatments, love philters. You name it. Mind you, Culpepper doesn't have a patch on Grieve for love potions. She is better by far." Noir grinned and felt herself relaxing. This is what she loved best, talking about her craft. 

"Recipes for beauty treatments is just what I need. You have anything for making the skin smooth and removing pimples? I have this one girl . . ." At that point a large dark-skinned fellow wearing a loincloth and not much else pushed open the door and made a beeline for Doxy. He grabbed her by the arm and lifted her out of the chair. Noir was on her feet in a flash, sparks beginning to drip from her fingertips as she raised a hand, making her momentarily wonder at how easily the power came to her fingers. But Doxy just smacked the man hard and shook him loose. "Knock it off, Dozzer! You only touch when I say you can touch!" She gave Noir a sideways glance with a wink, "You got anything in that book that will shrivel up a penis and make it never stiffen again?" She glared at the big man. 

The color drained from his face. He took three steps back and whined, "But Doxy, Sweetie, Baby! I got a powerful need! I got my pay, see?" He held out a gold coin. Noir dropped the energy she had instinctively pulled from somewhere nearby. She wondered again at how easily the power had come to her fingers. 

Doxy patted the big man on the cheek and took the coin. "C'mon with then me, Hon." She wrapped herself around his arm, but as she moved with him toward the stairs she flashed a smile over one shoulder at Noir. "I'll be back, Sugar. You find me that pimple cream recipe!" 

Noir stood there for a bemused second, then sat down again. She looked at her own fingertips, rubbed thumb and forefinger together and felt the warming spark of energy. She should investigate this new power, she thought. Maybe somewhere nearby she could find a way to repair her broken spells. But that was for later. For now she picked up her goblet, drained it then lifted it, signaling Alphonse to pour her another spiced wine. 

* * *

The shadowy figure in the corner leaned forward to watch the girl. She had been instinctively about to fry the big half-orc. He had felt the tug on his ley lines, felt her draw in the power. Did she know where the current she had raised came from? Now this was a fine twist. How did a little human witch come to be able to manipulate dragon magic. She would bear watching. Perhaps he needed an even closer look.