Opening Doors

A year ago Anna stood right here with her back against the bar, listening with half an ear as Uncle Joseph and Aunt Milly traded turns filling her head with all sorts of reminders and tidbits. The same information they had been filling her ears with for a month prior to that as they put their own affairs in order for their much deserved retirement.

She remembered laughing warmly and shooing them away to their waiting coach. Anna smiles at the memory. They told her that one day down the road she would know when the inn stopped looking at her as it's caretaker and would see her as it's owner. Her Aunt and Uncle always spoke of the Inn as if it were a living and breathing creature. She supposes it was in a way; the ebb and flow of the patrons dictating it's subtle moods.

If she had to say what the timber bones of this establishment was feeling today, Anna would settle on contentment. Floors had been swept, fixtures had been polished, rugs had been beaten, and everything aired out. Spring is a blessedly wonderful time. The painter was just touching up the last of the shutters (an earthy brown keeping with the old cottage feel) and with that the long winter of renovations will be complete.

She wondered how those two got on for as long as they did without converting the whole building to electricity. The fear of fires alone from a forgotten candle would have her pulling her hair out. It was an expensive project... but well worth it. Though the young woman does admit that there is nothing more comfortable as sitting in front of a lively fire while reading a book and drinking hot tea on a crisp evening. Throw a touch of whiskey into the mix and it's heaven.

Covering her mouth as she yawns, Hetty slowly descends the staircase in a pre-coffee zombie-like state. Settling herself at the round table next to an old stone fireplace she places the book she had been carrying on the table, flipping it open to a bookmarked page and attempting to focus her eyes on the terribly small, and at this particular second, incoherent writing. It doesn't take long for the serving girl to bring Hetty a fresh mug of coffee while she waits for her breakfast.

In the short week since arriving, the staff had quickly learned that speaking with Ms. Sauveterre any time prior to caffeination is best avoided unless one understands the language of grunts and glares. It is not that Hetty is especially short tempered in the morning; her brain simply takes much longer to comprehend things for a little while. Taking a sip of the steaming beverage she leans back in the wooden chair, humming her approval.

Her senses start to sharpen as the coffee is absorbed into her system. Hazel eyes travel along the worn wood walls of the tap room, marveling at the silver threads of magic woven within. To the naked or untrained eye, the walls just look like plain old wood and nails. To her they were filled with a dull light denoting the presence of faded spells.

She was sent here by Silverthron Manor at Ms. Barton's request to document and renew any magical wards placed on the grounds of the White Wolf Inn. Well, not Hatty specifically, but she was granted with this task as a way to test her training and provide the young woman with more practical experience.

Over the past week she had barely even scratched the surface. Not only were the spells fading, but the vast majority were so old that they were no longer documented. It would take her a very long time indeed to unravel the plethora of information held within these walls.

The past few hundred years, as technology grew, magic was tossed into a sort of dark ages. So much of what was once known had been lost. These days there were two very different schools of thoughts on magic. The more widely renowned belief is that it doesn't even exist. Magic was merely a clever trick that could be done with hidden pockets and mirrors. Only a small portion society truly believes in magic; and even smaller bit knowing how real it really is.

Hetty is snapped out of her thoughts when the serving girl places a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her, being mindful of the open book. The smell of food does the trick of chasing the rest of the cobwebs from Hetty's brain as she turns her attention to her book and breakfast.

Throwing open the doors to the Inn, Shard smiles and takes a deep breath as he scans the inn. It has been awhile since he last ventured through the inn and he was pleased to see the place was not only still standing but thriving.

"Bar Keep! a bottle of your finest!" He gives a small wave, before making his way to a corner table where a discreet looking gentleman is already sitting.

"You're late, and already creating a scene," He says at Shard's approach, "This is not our organizations way."

"Bollox," Shard retorts pulling up a seat across from the man, "You've had me traipsing all over the damn jungle in search for a half demon that can shoot lighting from his hands...He refused your offer by the way."

"Well that's unfortunate..." The discreet man responds.

"I think we could have sweetened the offer, all we have to do is tell him the truth about his woman and help reunite him with her and his children."

"Out of the question, he is too powerful, as well as the twins and we can't risk him reverting to his old ways where he believed all humans deserved to die...that is before he came here....and somehow became changed by all this." He says looking around the inn. The man was in fact grateful for the Inn's affect on those who had stayed long enough. Otherwise the half demon would have proved to be a very costly threat to everything the organization stood for, and represented.

Eyeing the gentleman demanding a bottle of wine with such exuberance she sizes him up for a moment. Figuring he probably does in fact have a purse full enough to cover the cost Anna Maria steps behind the bar pulling out a bottle from the far reaches of the wine rack.

Examining the label as she runs a cloth over the glass removing any dust she remembers there is one other bottle that would be considered finer... but to open it now for this would be such a waste. That vintage she wanted very much to enjoy.

Anna unscrews the cork, letting the rich wine breath as she steps into the kitchen for a decanter (something that, depending on the night, would not last long in the bar area). Passing by the bar again she grabs the wine, two glasses and makes her way to the table with the two men.

At the table she pours a sample of the wine, placing the glass in front of the man who requested such a fine vintage. "Would you care for anything else gentleman? Food, water, a room?"

Shard smiles warmly at the Anna, giving her a small bow. "Thanks you very kindly lass, you may leave the bottle, my friend here can buy his own drink." He says eyeing the man daring him to object, which he doesn't, he then pays reaches into his coat, pulling out a wallet and recognizing the vintage, hands her three times the bottle's worth.

"Thanks you are a life saver, you wouldn't believe the year I've had-"

"Mr. Gallows..." The man warns,

"I'm sorry m'lady," Shard apologizes, my friend here doesn't quite grasp the simple joys of exchanging pleasantries, or the value of a fine drink after one has....traveled the world so to speak. But to answer to your second question I do believe I would in fact need a room, and if you have a moment later, i would love to discuss the inn and a previous owner....An Elizabeth Barton I believe her name was. "

Anna can't help but to smile at Shard, more than a little entertained by the shade of red his companion's face is turning.

"True appreciation is hard to come by these days for a fine French vintage. If you ever have the chance to visit the vineyard this particular bottle comes from you won't be disappointed. It' view of the mountains is breathtaking." For a brief second, her eyes are distant remembering that particular visit to the French countryside. Mentally shaking off the memory she focuses again on the two men in front of her.

"I will leave you to your business gentlemen. Do let me know if you need anything"

Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Anna chooses to ignore the smear of blood on a few of the lower marked bills that she folds into her apron. Anna nods to the men and wanders through the room checking on the other patrons making a mental note to swing back with a pitcher of water after they have had some time to settle.

Shard turns in his chair watching her leave. "I like her...I like her almost as much I like watching her leave..." Then turning back to the man. "You think that was an invitation. you think she'll be willing to take me to see these vineyards?"

"Shard.." The man presses, interlocking his fingers as he leans across the table, "You need to obtain a room, you have your mission."

"I told you, I can only try, I can seal rifts and I'm pretty sure this whole veil thing is something bigger and more of a figure of speech. I can't see anything, nor can I sense any dimensional rifts."

"We understand." The man answers, "but the Inn has often been a crossroads, this place is important and whatever is happening to our world has begun here. You need to investigate, which would have been easier if you managed to recruit any of those we requested you find."

"And I told you," Shard snaps, picking up the bottle and tilting it back against his lips, moaning in ecstasy as the fine vintage washes over his tongue and down his throat "Shadow declined, he's with his brother hunting some warlord, Blaze nearly fried me, but let me go, threatening to kill your entire organization if we ever bother him again. And no one has heard from Red since he disappeared....500 years ago....I'm a great tracker, but 500 years time tends to erase any and all evidence of one's tracks." He finishes taking another long draw from the bottle.

"That's....unfortunate....still you have your assignment you are to stay here, investigate the veil find out what or how it's being brought down and for God Sake's at least try to blend in."

With that Shard laughs, "Are you daft? Humans don't care about my hair, or ears, they barely even notice my scars, as long as they don't see my bow, or swords, they mostly see what they want to see."

The man stands, "You have your orders, and being you need our help as more than we need yours, I suggest you follow them for once."

Standing the man straightens his clothes before walking out of the inn, leaving Shard sitting alone.

"And so I'm the man who drinks alone," Shard says to himself, as he scans the inn.

Rubbing her tired eyes, Hetty notices for the first time that it is a good deal later in the day than when she initially settled in. Noticing Anna Maria passing her table, she puts her hand out to catch the innkeeper's attention.

"By any chance is there any possibility of any documents regarding the nature of some of the older wards? I'm afraid your establishment is a mish-mash of several different generations of works and it may aid in my efficiency... and help prevent me from blowing anything up."

Seeing Anna's face pale at the mention of the potential destruction of this fine piece of architecture Hetty smiles in what she hopes is a cheering manner. "It's just that so much was lost over the years. I want to make sure that I have the best information possible before bringing my own skills into the mix.

Anna stares at the woman... the very young woman, who she has been assured is very capable of renewing the protection wards on the Inn. It takes a few moments before she composes herself enough to nod.

Clearing her throat in hopes of preventing her voice from squeaking out "I will see what I can find."

Seeing Miss. Sauveterre has already refocused on the tattered old book sitting on the table Anna redirects her path to the kitchen. A water break suddenly seems like an excellent idea... at least until her heart returns to a somewhat normal pattern. Silently Anna Maria preys that taking a recommendation from a former resident was a good idea.

Bored, he stands up from the table and turns around several times in search for the Inn Keeper, recalling barely that he saw her talking to another woman reading a book he approaches Hetty's table.

"Excuse me Ma'm, I don't mean to interrupt.." He pauses to glance down at her book. "Hmmm. Interesting choice...." Then shaking his head. "My apologies, I was curious rather or not you know where the keeper of this establishment has wondered off to, I'm apparently going to be staying here awhile." He says, eyeing her more carefully now, and grinning slightly at the sight of her ears.

Hetty looses her place, mid-sentence as a voice interrupts her study. Narrowing her eyes at the page she waves a delicate hand adorned with simple, but well made and expensive looking rings sparkling in the soft light of the tap-room in the general direction of the kitchen without glancing up.

"I believe she is somewhere that way. Though if you can't find Anna Maria in the Kitchen try her room on the 2nd floor... up the stairway down the hall all the way to the left. If you reach the back stairs you went to far."

Figuring that is enough for the man to go on she finds her place again and continues her study, pausing every so often to write a note in the margin or make an annotation.

Shard nods, and placing the a quarter of the remaining bottle beside her book.
"For your troubles," and digging into one of his inside jacket bottles pulls out a small book. "And I find the this elvish book of enchantments and ward building to be quite helpful, although I found did the wards to be quite tedious, that is if you believe and can read it." He says placing it beside her current book, before stepping off into the direction of the inn, wondering what customs dictate he should do if he has to meet the inn keep with the booty in her room, and continues wades his way through the bustling Inn towards the Kitchen, pausing for a moment to read the employees only sign, and shrugs.

"Well, the customer is always right." Then proceeds to step into the kitchen.

Blinking in surprise Hetty looks up in time to watch the back of Mr. Gallows head into the kitchen. Turning her attention to the bottle of wine she is pleasantly surprised and motions the serving girl for a glass. Chivalry, it would appear, is not so dead.

Picking up the slim volume he had placed on the table she turns it in her hands, admiring the binding and craftsmanship. The dark green cover appears to have seen many years of use- but seems to have been very well cared for. Without even knowing the contents she would imagine even her family would think twice prior to purchasing such a luxury. Who just tosses out such a treasure?

Noting an empty wineglass now on her table, she carefully pours a small portion of the wine allowing her tongue to savor the flavor for a moment before sliding her index finger under the cover and gently opening the book.

The neat handwriting is a boon to her eyes as they scan the elvish writing. The dialect is an older version than she has learned but she is able to decipher enough of the content to realize how valuable this small book really is.

Scanning the room to see if her presence is needed be anyone her eyes fall on Hetty. The girl hasn't budged all day and at this rate, will burn out before she's gotten anything done. Pouring a glass from the pitcher which she leaves on the bar, Anna goes to the small round table Hetty is seated at. Gently pulling the book from benieth the woman's fingers, She puts the glass in its place.

"Drink. And for God's sake go outside and get some fresh air. You're going to start glowing in the dark if you keep this up. No more work until tomorrow and as your employer you have no choice but to humor me."

Hetty leans back in the chair and rubs her eyes. "Perhaps you're right. I'm pretty sure that last bit I translated shouldn't say that the spell over the door is renewed by sacrificing three blue pigs with wings to the goddess of snails..."

Her train of thought is interrupted by a small and very ladylike hiccup. "Or I shouldn't have finished that bottle of wine."

Overhearing Hetty's drunken comment on his way of the Kitchen explodes into laughter. "But turning the pigs blue and giving them wings is an entirely different and far more difficult matter, I mean have you ever tried painting a pig? Then again I believe the goddess of snails would prefer an offering of leaves and alga. Living sacrifices usually appeals more to demons, or on occasion the Christians, but I believe their God prefers sacrifices of Lamb, sheep and wine...Come to think of it, I may have to convert."

Then spotting the bottle of wine, and shifting his gaze to Anna, "I apologize, this may be somewhat my fault, I meant to make her amends with the wine."

Wondering who would have the audacity to listen in on other peoples conversations (even if they were a touch louder than they usually be, Hetty looks with great curiosity in Shards direction. Finally getting a good look at the far too generous man from earlier she is surprised by what she sees.

"You're an elf?!" Her empasis is on the word elf... Rather loudly. Those that know her would confirm that, at this particular moment, it is Hetty speaking and not the wine. Hetty looks down at the book still under Anna Maria's fingers and then looks back at Mr. Gallows while muttering to herself, "Well I guess that would explain a thing or two."

Normally, she would be on her feet at this point to do the polite thing and shake the man's hand or something. However, after sitting so long with no alcoholic assist she would be a touch wobbly. With the alcohol (even though her excitement is steadily burning off the effects), she would rather not attempt a straight line at the moment.

Shard smiles modesty and gives her a gracious nod, "How very astute of you, though I must confess I'm not really an elf, same stock I believe but different in subtle ways. I'm an Atlantean, one of the last surviving two I believe."

Then pulling a small seed from his pocket, he holds it out to her in the palm of his hand, letting her see the seen begin to grow and blossom in his hand, become a long stem rose, with petals every color of the rainbow.

"For you my lady." He says handing her the delicate flower.

Shaking her Head Anna walks away from the pair, somewhat unsuccessfully stifling a snort of laughter. She takes her time navigating the large room, pausing to chat with the people occupying the space. Occasionally she huskes behind the bar or ducks in and out of the kitchen fetching this or that for a customer.

On evenings like this she is glad to have the blacksmith's wife, Helen, keeping things running in the kitchen so she can spend more time with her customers.

"Thank you" Taking the flower gently from his fingers Hetty marvels at it. While the flower is beautiful of course, she is far more interested in the magic involved.

"Atlantean as in hailing from the mythical city of Atlantis?" Turning the rose in her hand she examines it with the fascination of a scholar. While she has seen similar displays of magic, the vast majority were surely well done sleight-of-hand. The handful done with real magic to which she was a witness were either very poorly done, or done by someone of such arrigance that she passed on further examination having no desire to stroke their egos.

Shard nods "Indeed, Atlantis was my home before it fell to destruction." He then wills the flower to gently wrap around her wrist and form to a bracelet, with with the petals opening along the of of her wrist, eyeing the flower's face. "I was in the minority as far as magic goes, I knew a few enchantments and spells it is true. But this power comes from my connection to the green as it were. although perhaps it's an inherent magical trait. But I could give you a demonstration my magical talents if you so desire, but in more private terms." He says looking about the inn, "I would prefer to not be the unwilling participate in a witch hunt."

Looking at the new adornment on her wrist she does have to admit to herself that she's impressed; even if it was a wanton display of magic.

"Are you propositioning me sir?" She states in mock offense. "And here you haven't even told me who you are. What kind of woman do you take me for?"

Her hazel eyes meet his for the first time and Hetty raises an inquiring eyebrow. Having been immersed in the plethora of spells surrounding the inn, fading or not, she has enough faith in them to know those of malicious intent don't easily get through the doors.

Those that do are unsettled by the space and choose to leave of their own accord fairly quickly. If everything is working as it should be anyway- and at this point she's found nothing to counter that.

"Ah," Shard says inquisitively, "I take you as a learned and rather curious woman." He meets her gaze with his purple eyes staring back into hers."And I could very well be propositioning you, but to one ends you'll have to see if you're daring enough to find out as to what. But my name is Shard Gallows, Ranger, lover, rogue, inquisitor, the maker's chosen, hero, explorer and adventurer, who possess the power to open and close rifts to other worlds and realms," He says, taking her gently by the hand and kissing her knuckles. "Charmed, I'm sure." He smiles.

"You should add storyteller to that list of grand titles Mr. Gallows." Gently removing her hand from his, the young woman pushes back her chair and stands. Figuring her current companion is mostly talk there seems to be little enough harm... Especially when one takes her own capabilities into account.

"I am Hetty Sauveterre. Miss. Barton is of the impression that I could use some fresh air, and I must admit she is right. The garden out back would seem to be an excellent space to exhibit your magical skills. The wall is high enough to block curious observers as well. Though I would request that you refrain from creating any rifts... one never knows what creatures would come through. Pissing off Anna Maria seems...unwise."

Smiling Shard nods, "The garden sounds perfect, and I see no better to spend the evening, then exhibiting each other's magical talent, it's been awhile since I've came across someone who didn't merely practice the art of illusions and calling themselves magically gifted." With that he motions Hetty to lead the way.