Rahni’s hands were cracked and peeling, her face badly
sunburnt, her feet callused and covered in dirt. The warm curls of her unblemished,
white-gold hair were the only thing that lent her any beauty. With a tub of
laundry on one hip and a bucket of water in the opposite hand, she made her way
to Plom Picket’s. She shoved through the swinging door and dropped the bucket
of water to the ground at Plom’s feet. He shoved some coins into her hand
without breaking eye contact as he continued trying to sell some beat up hides
to a man that just came in for directions.
She smiled to herself, admiring the way Plom tried to turn
every situation into a sale, then she noticed he shorted her 2 coins and was
less amused. He tried this with her every week and every week she noticed. She
knew he would have the remaining coins ready for her when she came back,
handing them over without even the slightest look of guilt.
She continued down
the dusty street toward the Heplog Inn, adjusting the basket of folded sheets
on her hip. The largest carriage she had ever seen pulled up to the Inn as she
approached. The massive doors opened and a handsome man in seemingly untouched
clothing emerged. His dark hair framed his face in soft waves, paired perfectly
with the crown of thin silver and gold woven together. His boots were scuff-free
and Rahni looked down at her own blackened feet in embarrassment. She hurried inside the inn with her head down.
