Azir let the fifth door close with a quiet little groan from the sleeping human within, biting back the frustrated curse on his tongue. Not one of the rooms he had clandestinely searched so far had anything even resembling the other half of the map. He had found nothing beyond the normal dregs of travelers and merchants, stuffed and bundled away in fits of hurry and wanderlust. No trunk was left unsearched, no pack unemptied as he moved like a errant gust of wind, leaving no pocket unturned and replacing everything without so much as a single mote of dust out of place. He even snuck the satchel of a slumbering Asura out from it’s place snuggled in his arms like some sort of bizarre human stuffed animal, replacing it with one of his blanket-like handkerchiefs as he rummaged around what had turned out to be the creature's chewing tobacco bag. But with every failed room, his annoyance grew, and the normally stoic set of his lips curled ever so slightly downwards – as if the nagging weights of doubt were swinging harder and harder upon invisible chains pinioned there.<br/><br/>Useless...Another dead end in a long line of dead ends, each one more aggravating than the last.<br/><br/>His mind drifted in the silent strides he took towards the very last door on the hall, back down the winding, rickety stairs, back hours ago when he had first arrived. The sun had just sunk below the distant line of trees, but still the fiery warmth of it's glow clung to the skies as he ducked his massive frame into the foyer, immediately crashing into the dusty chandelier that had obviously seen better days.<br/><br/>“Watchit now!” a voice had admonished him from further in, “That's expensive that is!”<br/><br/>“Apologies,” he had grunted, carefully stepping around the still swaying glass baubles and into the inn proper. If he had been bothered by the shameless stares of the patrons, he didn't show it.  A Norn traveling in human lands was bound to garner a few odd looks. And Azir did his fair share of traveling. The mousey-looking innkeeper had smoothed his stained apron, stepping up to offer a low bow. It was hardly necessary, as even standing the man barely came up to Azir's navel.<br/><br/>“Welcome sir, will you be wanting a room for the night?”<br/><br/>“Aye, an' a good drink tah boot.”<br/><br/>“I've got a keg of fine Hoelbrak mead waiting to be tapped sir...?”<br/><br/>“Hollanson. Aðilvaldron Hollanson. Yeh can call meh Azir.”<br/><br/>The man looked positively relieved that he didn't need to attempt to repronounce Azir's full name, motioning towards the stairs, “Shall I show you to your room now sir Azir?”<br/><br/>“Nah...I'll 'ave that ale first. But tell me...”<br/><br/>He had kneeled, bringing his own golden eyes almost level with the humans. Not three hours before whispers of a commotion at some seedy backwoods excuse for a bar (And even that was doing it justice) had led Azir to a recently toothless Charr, who's bloodied excuse for what had once been a mouth had muttered something about a crazy patron asking questions about an old map. Somewhere between cursing the intruder's heart to several...Unsavory deaths, and hurling spitting insults at the barely-clothed human girls tending to his wounds, Azir had managed to determine just where this mystery person had gone.  This tiny lodge was the only safe haven for miles...<br/><br/>“Did a traveler come in 'ere recently from th'west?”<br/><br/>“Several, sir. Most of them have already retired. Why?” The innkeeper's face was distant, curiosity tempered with the wisdom that no good usually came from strangers asking after other strangers. A huge palm decended upon his shoulder in a friendly gesture, and Azir smiled disarmingly. Standing back up and weaving his considerable bulk to an empty chair that looked sturdy enough to support him, he called back over his shoulder, “I'm lookin' for an old friend is all. Heard they might beh headin' this way.” The wooden chair creaked in protest as he lowered his weight into it, but it reached into some hidden reserve of strength and didn't break under the onslaught. Cocking his hand behind his head, Azir's golden eyes had quickly scanned the patrons for any sign that his query had struck a nerve. He saw none. His mystery person definitely wasn't downstairs.“M'sure I'll catch them in th'morning before they leave. Now come, let's 'ave tha' ale.”<br/><br/>The pints and minutes had flown by in a blur, the inn goers quickly warming to the strange Norn after he had spilled a handful of silver onto a nearby table and declared the next round was on him. No matter where you went, in all of Tyria, there was nothing like offer to buy the booze to endear yourself to the locals. Ten o'clock was looming high, and Azir lifted his fifteenth mug of bitter to his lips, drawing deep and long. Over the past fourteen of the brimming mugs, he had memorized the Inn's layout to a T, determined just how many of the eight tiny rooms upstairs were occupied, the names of everyone still downstairs, and just how many teeth the old human swaying with inebriation in the corner had left in his head (Four). He saw everything, and remembered far more. It never hurt to be over prepared and ready for anything.<br/><br/>He felt a tiny hand alight on his shoulder, and a slightly slurred string of words follow close behind.<br/><br/>“We don't get many Nornsh out this way, handshome...”<br/><br/>The human woman pivoted upon her palm, the touch lingering as she slid before him. Her name was Kathern. And judging by the bedroom eyes she had been all but molesting him with since first he walked in, Azir hazarded a guess that whatever potent wine she swished around in that glass cradled close in her other hand had finally done it's job. She had plucked up enough nerve to try and act upon the burning thoughts behind that potent gaze. She pursed the plump lips in an all-too-obvious pout, flaxen hair falling into her eyes.<br/><br/>“It'sh shuch a shame...You Nornsh are sho...Facinating.”<br/><br/>“Weh ah simple people, lass. No differen' than anyone else.”<br/><br/>She inched closer, hips sashaying clumsily in some mockery of seduction. She puffed a breath of disbelief, causing the ample bosom barely held in check by the thin cotton blouse to jiggle in several intriguing ways.<br/><br/>“Not different? Nonshense...Everything about you is so big. Your hand, your laugh, your...appetites”<br/><br/>She lingered on this last word, slipping between his knees. She was close enough for Azir to smell the fruity boquet of the wine that stained her lips and teeth dark ruby. Even seated, as he was, she still had to crane her head upwards to meet his gaze. She held it like a promise as her slim fingers found their way between them, biting on her lower lip as they fell upon the true object of her thoughts. Her eyes went wide – half in surprise, and half in fear.<br/><br/>“Everything...” she mumbled throatily.<br/><br/>“Bes' tah naht mess wit' beasts yeh can't handle, lass.” Azir grunted. He had zero intention of bedding anyone this night, least of all some drunk human girl who's eyes were too big for her stomach, so to speak. No, the only person he cared about in this particularly inn was his mystery person currently upstairs, and the map they hopefully carried. Despite this, though, he was only Male...And the nimble little fingers tracing the monstrous length of her desire through his pants were sending a familiar rush of blood through his veins.<br/><br/>“You'd beh shurprished at what I can handle, Mr. Norn...Godsh, I'd feel this in my shtomach...”<br/><br/>“Tell you wha', lass...How's 'bout yeh sleep onnit? Iffin yer sti—“<br/><br/>“How 'bout I letsh you use my ass assh ah cockwarmer?” she slurred, darting her parted lips forward, aiming for his own.<br/><br/>Azir stood, and was up the rickety stairs faster lighting running from the storm's edge – leaving Kathern sloppily kissing thin air.<br/><br/><br/>Hours later, as Azir laid his palm against the last door handle and carefully pressed his ear to the jamb, he felt a slight pang of regret in not taking her up on the lewd offer.  Especially since his true purpose here was seemingly turning into a bust faster than he had excused himself from the situation. If he wasn't going to find the map, the least he could have done was had a bit of fun...Even if most human girls were nothing but talk when it came to bedding Norn men. There were some limits of biology that no amount of wanton desire and lust could overcome.<br/><br/>He heard a slight shuffle from the room beyond, tightening the grip he had on his dagger. He held his breath and counted to thirty in his head, waiting to see if any more sounds came whispering out. Again, the slight creak of a floorboard snuck out like the fringes of some cape disappearing around a corner, followed closely by the the unmistakable sound of someone taking a swig of something. While the chances that his mystery person were behind the door had grown slim, he or she had still managed to waltz into a notoriously dangerous Charr establishment and rough up the owner without getting gutted. Whoever it was, they weren't afraid of violence. Not that Azir was, not by any chance. One didn't go around hunting for old treasure and relics without knowing their way around a blade or two (Or four, as was Azir's case. The one in his hand, it's brother across his chest, and two smaller dirks strapped to the biceps.). Still...He did always -try- to avoid confrontation when possible. The easiest way of making sure you didn't get hurt in a fight was to not get into fights in the first place.<br/><br/>The person beyond the door moved again, away from the door.  Azir snapped his attention back to the present, there was nothing for it. Anyone up this late was probably in no mind to go to sleep anytime soon, and any chance of obtaining the rest of the map (if they indeed had it) would grow far less likely if he waited till morning for a new plan to appear to him. Carefully easing the doorknob around until the latch unhooked itself, and all that separated him from the room beyond was a quick shove. He would simply have to count on surprise and intimidation and hope that whoever was beyond the door was not the kind of person who screamed.<br/><br/>Taking a long, slow breath, Azir counted down from ten in his head, and upon reaching “one” threw his considerable weight against the door and spilled inside like a wildcat, dagger brandished and a growling snarl on his lips.  An expression that turned almost immediately into one of disbelief as he saw just who was waiting in the room.<br/><br/>“Well...Yer nothin' lioke I expected.”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>