Still Not Eating? (2)
Pelle nodded toward the table with her chin. Seated there were some truly impressive guests. Lizardmen whose massive builds were easily twice that of an average adult man. Their bluish scales were bundled up tightly in thick fur garments, making them look even more enormous. With four such hulking figures crammed around one table, it looked downright precarious.
"They could sit two to a table, you know."
"They say they're cold and want to huddle together."
"Can't blame them. Looks like snow's coming soon anyway."
"That's probably why they came to the inn. They said they'd leave once the snow stops."
"Yeah. But what's with that water tank? And why's Aterugar acting up like that?"
Pelle lifted the tank slightly.
"It's for the lizardmen's rooms. No matter how warm we make it, they complain it's cold, so I'm turning it into a full-on steam bath."
"And why's Aterugar pissed off?"
"She kept whining it's still cold even after cranking up the heat. Be glad I didn't roast her."
"Hey! Get over here already!"
Aterugar yelled from the upstairs railing, and Pelle flashed me the faintest smile before heading up the stairs.
The lizardmen were wedged around the table, waiting for their food. Lizardmen visiting an inn in this weather? That was a rarity. Their kind slowed down in the cold and usually headed south before winter hit. What brought them here?
Maybe they'd hit the bathhouse after eating. They'd figure it out themselves.
Heading to the employee dorm under construction, I saw Ukun and the dwarf elders scurrying up and down ladders like ants. Spotting me, Ukun wiped his brow mid-hammer swing and acknowledged me.
"You're here."
"Coming along well?"
"As you can see."
The dorm was already past the second floor, pushing into the third. Four stories total, so completion seemed just around the corner.
"The shell goes up fast; interiors take longer. But we won't drag into winter."
"Good. Hey, while you're at it, one request."
"What?"
"Make the walls on the top floor—my room and the existing staff rooms—soundproof."
"Soundproof?"
Ukun twisted his beard, tilting his head curiously.
"Why bother with that?"
"Don't worry about it. Can you do it?"
"Not hard."
"Perfect. Make it happen."
Leaving the site, I circled the inn grounds, checking for anything amiss. Nothing needed attention, but the northern gorge was shrouded in heavy gray clouds—snow was definitely coming soon.
First winter in Rosens; no feel for the weather yet. But smack in a mountain valley, it'd probably pile up deep if it snowed. I'd have Aterugar clear it. She'd bitch, but she was perfect for the job.
Circling back via the riverbank to the front yard, Kali's kennel under the inn door stood empty. Too cold out, so I'd brought him inside. The massive cushion by the hearth was his winter nest. Luckily, he had the sense to lounge quietly toasting by the fire when guests were around. Otherwise, it'd be back outside.
He'd never hunted properly, but he was a smart hunting dog all the same. Timid usually, but brave when it counted. Like when those monster hunters chasing Kosa tried torching the inn—Kali growled from the shadows, ready to take them down.
A fitting name for the God of the Hunt. Kali, god of the hunt, patron of hunters. A lesser deity under the main goddess, handling specifics. Meaning, one of Her subordinates.
A goddess commanding such divinities. Ruler of this world, but not its creator? Inherited one of her father the Creator's worlds to manage? Ha... what a joke...
After inspecting the monster zoo, I returned alone to find the lizardmen still at their table. Their orders had arrived—plates and bowls covered it. But for some reason, Francois had emerged from the kitchen, staring their way.
"What're you doing?"
"Bertrand? You're back?"
"Just now. What's up?"
"Watching those folks."
Francois nodded toward the lizardmen.
"First lizardmen you've seen?"
"Yeah, but that's not the issue..."
She trailed off, eyes fixed on them.
"They took a few bites and just... set down their spoons."
"Huh? No way. The food can't be bad."
"That's why I'm worried. Maybe it doesn't suit them. Do lizardmen only eat live food...? Or some special diet?"
"Nah, nothing like that."
Lizardmen ate normal fare like humans or dwarves, despite their looks. They loved raw meat or fresh fish, but weren't limited to it. If that's what they wanted, they wouldn't have come to an inn—or they'd have ordered it specially.
"Really? Then why aren't they eating...? Weird..."
Francois fidgeted, gnawing her fingers. No one had ever been lukewarm about her cooking since the inn opened. What'd they order to act like this? Just standard cod steaks—thick slabs grilled perfectly, drizzled in her special lemon sauce. Delicious.
Yet the lizardmen barely touched it, just staring.
"Maybe... something wrong with the dish...? Or they hate cod...? Should I offer alternatives...?"
She stamped her feet in place, anxious.
"Wanna go ask? See what's up."
"Y-yeah... let's..."
We wove through tables to approach them. Up close, their size was intimidating. Thick limbs, necks. Long snouts, protruding sharp teeth. Blue scales looked dry from low humidity; crests from nape to brow were flattened. Winter wasn't their season.
"Hello, esteemed lizardmen."
"Greetings."
Their voices were low and gravelly.
"Honored guests in this chilly weather."
"Ha. Ended up here by chance."
They chuckled politely.
"Shouldn't you be heading south?"
"Aye, but circumstances kept us in the central plains. Planning to go now, but snow's brewing. You might not know, but snow cripples us—hard to even walk."
"Saw the clouds rolling from the north earlier. Finish eating and hit the bathhouse?"
"Bathhouse?"
They exchanged glances, as if hearing it for the first time.
"What's that?"
"Huge tubs steaming with hot water. Humid and toasty—perfect for recovering your strength."
"Oh? Artificial hot spring, like?"
"Exactly. Indoors, so the steam stays trapped."
They grinned, tails flicking, long tongues darting between fangs.
"Um... sorry, but... lizardmen guests..."
Francois hesitantly interjected, poise shattered. Her food rejected—huge blow.
"The... food isn't to your liking...?"
"Food? Ah, the head chef."
"Yes... I'm the chef. You barely ate, so I thought maybe it didn't suit your tastes... came out myself..."
"Heh. Understood."
They smiled awkwardly.
"It's not..."
One hesitated, then spoke.
"Don't take it wrong. The cod's delicious. But..."
Francois clutched her apron, waiting.
"Tasty, but... not like what we used to eat."
"What was that like...?"
"Moonlight cod from the southern seas. Rare—you wouldn't know. Lives near islands only we lizardmen access."
Moonlight Cod...
Francois looked clueless about it.
"Don't fret, chef. Not that this is bad—just reminiscing."
They hurriedly scooped up bites with spoons and forks.
But Francois didn't react, head bowed low.
"Francois?"
Leaning down, I saw her lips moving faintly.
"Moonlight cod... Moonlight cod... Moonlight cod..."