It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was starting to sink behind the tall buildings, but the streets and marketplaces were as busy as ever. The people who populated the city varied immensely, from nobles in rich silks to guards in full armor to beggars in patched rags. Deryn took the time to drop a coin into the cupped hands of one such beggar as she passed by the thin woman's pile of meager possessions. She knew what it was like, having no home to go back to. It wasn't easy. Now, however, she could spare the coin. The clasp of her coat, the symbol she wore so proudly, was that of a dragon, cast in a reddish metal. Its snarling head was the symbol of the Red Dragon Mercenary Company, where she worked. The jobs ranged from potentially fatal to mind-numbingly boring, but it was a steady source of coin, and the other mercenaries were friendly enough.
It was a job that had brought her here, to Alabaster city. Some rich noble wanted his Sleipnir herd transported. He'd got himself convinced that someone planned to steal them. Where he got the idea from, Deryn wasn't quite sure. The job went well, and the herd was now corralled safely in a pen not far from the city, with Deryn's rune drake to guard them. The mercenaries who had been assigned the job were now free to wander the city for as long as they pleased before they were due back at the base in a week's time. There were four in all, but as time went on they gradually drifted off to explore the city on their own.
Stopping in a rare clear spot where no people walked, Deryn reached up and pulled the furred hood of her cloak down, looking around at the tall buildings. The city was all dusty brown and gold in the daytime, but as the sun slowly began to slip beneath the horizon, long shadows stretched across the ground. The temperature was just beginning to drop, and though the sun-baked buildings still retained plenty of heat, outside it would soon be dark and cold- and possibly dangerous. Deryn was armed with her bow, as well as numerous daggers, but she was still in no hurry to get jumped in some dark alleyway. It would be better to be inside, but where? She had just been wandering all afternoon, and she still wasn't sure what it was she was looking for or what she wanted to do. Maybe find somewhere to eat, get a drink, play cards. A tavern was as good a place as any.
The buildings around her were all shops. Deryn picked a random direction and started off, reaching up behind her head as she did to undo the tie that kept her hair pulled back, letting her dark brown hair fall in wild, tight curls that reached to a point between her shoulder blades. She wore a pair of goggles around her neck, from flying, as well as a soft leather cuirass and a fur-trimmed, hooded cape. She adjusted the strap of her quiver, the arrows clattering together against each other. They were mismatched, looted and scavenged from battlefields and corpses. None of her features marked her as important, a look she was careful to maintain. Deryn preferred to pass unnoticed through the cities she visited. Her dark skin, wild hair, and red dragon clasp were the only features she could be remembered by- though she was not unattractive, her features captured nothing more than a moment's thought. The hair and skin could belong to anyone. The dragon made her stand out. And, of course, there was the other dragon.
Dulinth, the drake she had bonded with, waited outside the city, guarding the sleipnir the mercenaries had transported. He was a beautiful creature, all dark brown scales and gold wing-sails, and a fearsome fighter too. Deryn never brought him into the city. He was too large for most of the streets, and drew more attention than she cared to have.
The streets were clearing now, as people vanished into their homes or inns, to eat and sleep. They would be out at the crack of dawn the next morning, hawking their wares to the rich visitors who were visiting for the drake trials. Up ahead, an inn came into view, the sign stating its name hanging above the door. A menagerie of creatures was outside, those bonded to the people within. As Deryn approached, the door swung open and someone stepped out, carrying with him the loud sounds of talking and a sliver of bright firelight. Deryn reached the door just before it swung shut, grabbing its handle and pulling it open. It was much warmer inside than out, and crowded. People sat at every table, and a sea serval hissed at her as she nearly stepped on its tail. Laughter, followed by shouting, erupted from a group of drunken men playing cards. Despite the large fire, the room was not smoky, and the smell of cooking meat was on the air. Weaving her way between the crowded tables, Deryn looked for somewhere to sit.