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Destroyer of (his own) worlds
Ki'ehr slipped into his room, the door creaking open, and frowned at the smell. He quickly shut the door behind him and slipped the metal bolt into his lock, connecting the door solidly to the jamb of the doorway. Ki'ehr nudged his shoulder against the door to make sure it wouldn't budge, and after hearing the bolt rattle, nodded. It meant his room wasn't going to be locked while he was out of it, but while he was in it, he could have some privacy. He began by dispelling the illusion that turned his scales crimson, his tail and face returning to their deep pink, and then undid the clasp that kept his trident attached to his chest, eager to get out of his armour. He rested his trident against the wall and then unbuckled his curiass, fumbling with the bits of armour due to the worn leather of his gloves. He then slipped it off him and looked around, sighing softly. The room didn't even a wardrobe.

He ran a hand over his head, as if he were raking his fingers through his hair, and then slipped his chest plate underneath the bed, the metal scraping against the floor. His gloves came off next, and he threw them onto the bed carelessly, wiping his sweaty hands on his arming doublet and glancing out the window. His fingers then came to the cord that criss-crossed down the middle of his chest to his stomach, and undid it, revealing a little more of his chest, his scales soft above hard muscle. It wasn't quite the breath of fresh air that Ki'ehr was used to -- after all, it was still humid and he was still sweaty, but at least he didn't have to carry all that metal on him anymore.

Finally, he detached his tassets from his belt, and slid each of them under the bed to join his cuirass. The spaulders were going to have to stay on, as he didn't want to have to detach and attach them again. He rolled up his padded sleeves as best as he could, and then walked toward the window, an idea striking him. He quickly recast the spell to make his scales change colour, his forearms and hands a deep red now in addition to his head, neck and tail, and then unlatched the window and opened it. He curled his fingers around the windowsill, and looked down, smirking at what he saw.

"Vines. Wonderfully convenient. But now the window's going to be unlocked..." Ki'ehr tapped his finger on the windowsill in though, wondering which he'd rather leave unlocked. If he climbed out of the window, the door would be locked, but the window wouldn't be, and if he left via the door, that would be unlocked, but the window would. Nobody but the innkeeper knew about his valuables, and the three or so drunkards in the inn hadn't been paying much attention either. Then again, it wouldn't take a village elder to realise that there would be something else to go along with the spaulders on his shoulders. Ki'ehr quickly closed and locked the window again, and then grabbed his trident and slipped that under the bed as well, it clanking and clattering against his armour as he did. He then walked over to the door, tugged the bolt free from the lock, and slipped this into his money pouch, which was empty. He tightened his purse's cord around the metal bar, and then headed downstairs again.

"I'd like my meal first, my good man." The innkeeper, who still looked reasonably lost, turned his attention to Ki'ehr as the draconian made his way down the stairs.

"But y'already got yer room," the innkeeper bumbled, utterly confused.

"Yes, yes, I'll get to the firewood later. Now, I need a rag or two, and a fairly decent amount of water." The innkeeper, as if in a dream, simply put three torn and dusty rags on the bar, and then filled up a bucket of water from a cask behind the bar that probably wasn't going to last the poor draconian five tables. The draconian nodded in thanks, and then hefted up the bucket easily, grabbing the bundle of rags in his hands and cleaning the bar first. After a bit of scrubbing, it was looking decidedly better, and then he moved onto the tables, taking his time and making sure he did a good job, while at the same time relishing the break. His legs were truly worn out for the day, and that run after the man being chased by officers in the market square had been the final nail in the coffin. It was about time his arms got something to do.

After a few hours, the daylight had begun to fade from the city of Phenvast. In that time, Ki'ehr had gone through a few buckets of water, and one or two more mugs of the stuff, and was at the last few tables. It was here he asked for a meal to be prepared, and although a few people had come in while he was cleaning, none had eaten anything, and this was going to be the first meal the innkeeper was going to be having prepared all day. His lovely chef, who was, undoubtedly, his wife, worked in the kitchen as Ki'ehr cleaned, and eventually his meal was served: soup and bread. Ki'ehr gave the innkeeper his rags and bucket back, and dug into it. It was simply water mixed with potato chunks and rice, and then topped with parsley, but it was warm, and it tasted decent enough. As any good customer did, he thanked his patrons for the meal, and then headed upstairs again.

Unbeknownst to Ki'ehr, the time of the Chief's meeting at the inn was fast approaching, although Ki'ehr was only concerned with meeting his end of the deal he had struck with the innkeeper. He slipped into his room again and fully undid the cord of his arming doublet, sliding it off of him and exposing his muscular, scaly chest, still tinged with pink. His threw his doublet onto the bed with his gloves, and then rolled his shoulders, gazing down and making sure to cover every inch of his bare skin with crimson. It was certainly taking it out of him to have this much of his scales covered, but he knew he could survive another hour or so. They wouldn't need much wood for tonight anyway.

The draconian headed downstairs again and tapped at the bar to grab the innkeeper's attention again. As the bearded and balding man turned around, he simply blinked again, his mouth hanging open slightly at the sight that stood before him. It dawned on Ki'ehr that this man wasn't all too familiar with draconians. "Got an axe?" The innkeeper nodded, slightly dazed, and then reached under the bar, the metal head of the hatchet scraping against the wood of the bar. He held it out to Ki'ehr, and the draconian wrapped his fingers around the axe's handle, before gently setting the head on the floor and leaning on the edge of its handle. Every movement made his muscles shift beneath his scales. "Where's the wood?" The innkeeper licked his lips, still not entirely sure if everything that had happened today had actually happened.

"Roun' th' side," he said, glancing at the door. Ki'ehr nodded, and the hefted the axe over his shoulder.

"Levo smiles upon the kind. Thank you for your goodwill." With that, he was out, and the innkeeper could only glance at his wife, a look of disbelief on his face. It wasn't every day a paladin came and stayed at your inn, not in the least one who talked about a god nobody had heard about before. As night fell upon the city, Ki'ehr was busy chopping wood, bringing the axe up over his head and splitting each log into more manageable sizes for the fireplace. As he worked, he was in plain view of those on the street, and he drew many a pair of eyes. One hopeful hiskr lass even walked into the inn and asked if they had any openings for a maid, but the innkeeper said he couldn't quite afford it. She understood, though.

"Handsome young lizards like that must cost a fortune."
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Blood in the Jungle · Phenvast City

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