The bucket in the corner went<em>tap, tap, tap</em>.<br/><br/>Lythia felt her eyes wandering away from the page and back to that bucket in the corner.<em>Tap, tap, tap.</em>Where the corner of the inn's roof had been depressed by some now long-forgotten storm or another, water must have pooled over days of intermittent rain. Rot, weight and the wicked hand of time had threatened the already-bowing roof's constitution until a lock of straw had finally given way, or a plank of wood had rotted through, or a stone tile had been dislodged, and...<em>tap, tap, tap</em>.<br/><br/><em>Tap, tap, tap</em>.<br/><br/>The issue was but a symptom of a lingering problem that had gone unheeded when it was at its most fixable; when it was just a battered rooftop. Now rot and ruin would have carried through to the surrounding material as well, necessitating a major work effort to fix the resulting leak, probably replacing that entire section of roof. It would take the better part of an afternoon, but it would be loud and messy and likely expensive, not to mention the business implications for shutting down a town's only inn for what was likely to be a...<br/><br/>Lythia screwed her eyes shut and squeezed the bridge of her nose.<em>Tap, tap, tap</em>went the bucket. She was losing concentration. Doggedly she tore her eyes off the leak and back to the book in front of her, the small candle's pitiful flame thrashing restlessly throwing waving shadows across her notes. Something, something, the properties of a forest floor corrupted by Unseelie magic under normal circumstances generally involve...<br/><br/>...what?<br/><br/><em>Tap, tap, tap,</em>the bucket answered.<br/><br/>Lythia groaned and gently closed over the leatherbound black book still packed tight with notes and leafs from her university days. She wasn't made for the road, for the long haul journey. Outside of the creature comforts of home she was too easily distracted, found it too difficult to just sit and read. By the Gods how she yearned for the comfort of her dorm common room back in Nimeria...<br/><br/>...she grit her teeth and ran frustrated fingers over the rough leather.<em>Tap, tap, tap.</em><br/><br/>She was down to ten silver coins. She'd spent her entire savings getting this far in search of this merchant, and now that she was here she was no surer of where to turn to find him or his custom next. And she wasn't sure how much longer she could get by with so little by way of currency or barter-able goods. Her books and notes were most certainly not for sale. As the thought tripped into her mind, however, another, unbidden, whispered -<em>but for how much longer</em>?<br/><br/>Lythia cursed it, and cast an anxious glance around her, not lingering on any other figure long enough to attract eye contact. One little child by the hearth was staring at her, and she shivered and pulled her hood further over her head, all the better to hide her ears. She slid the black notebook off the table and unlaced the maw of her backpack.<em>Tap, tap, tap.</em>The crossbow lashed to the side hit off the table as she repositioned the bag. Somebody coughed, and looked over at the source of the noise.<em>Tap, tap, tap.</em>Lythia felt her cheeks glow hot at the inquisitor's gaze and dumbly tried to pretend she didn't notice. She nearly dropped her notebook as she tried to stuff it into her bag.<em>Tap, tap, tap.</em>Her elbow inched out awkwardly and struck the plate she'd been picking at earlier; her meal of bread and watered down beer. The plate slipped off the table and clanged to the floor. Lythia let out a slight gasp and froze. She felt the heat of yet more eyes scuttle over her.<br/><br/><em>Tap. Tap. Tap.</em><br/><br/>...Then came the scream.<br/><br/>All chatter in the inn stopped abruptly. The eyes that had been idling over the hooded girl in the corner now flicked to the door, Lythia's among them. A few people were going outside to get a look; then a few more.<br/><br/>Lythia found herself lifting her backpack onto her back and following as someone pushed her along. Her heart was in her throat, hands trembling. Anything to get out of the inn, though. Anything.<br/><br/>She stopped dead in her tracks when she found the source of the shattered quiet. Gangly, wet, glistening, green...webbed extremities like a frog's. Horns. Straight and long and slick. Yellow eyes. Lythia felt the blood drain from her face. She tried to run, but her legs wouldn't respond. Time seemed to stand still. The weight of her backpack and the crossbow that hung from it suddenly felt like too much to bear.<br/><br/>Finally, she was able to pry a foot from the ground and take a faltering, disbelieving step backwards. It was only then, freeing her body and her mind from the abject horror that had seized her, that she noticed the other two - a knight, no doubt by his armour, and...<em>an orc?!</em>They had set their sights on the monster and the injured man that lay at his mercy. Buoyed by their presence, Lythia took just another step backwards before stopping, again rooting to the spot.<br/><br/>Would they help him? Could they help him? What was she to do?