It was a good thing Drake had enough mettle, or naivete to agree in coming along. To his compliment he replied, "Practice, I've had plenty of it. You don't start out being able to notice everything at a first glance. If all goes well, we might not need to resort to physical blows." Out of everything he had said so far, this was the first fragment of complete honesty. They followed the carriage down the streets, and it made several turns before stopping before an inn. The sign outside said the establishment's name: 'The White Stag'. Not the largest of places, which seemed unusual already. It seemed he was right about something being off. Private carriages were only affordable by the wealthy. Why would someone who had money stay at anything less than the most popular and comfortable of inns? He waited behind the corner of a building several houses away and watched as the carriage door opened. The driver helped a woman down dressed in a flowing gown with her shoulders wrapped in a fur stole. A wide-brimmed hat decorated with sheer fabric and faux roses obscured her face from the nose upward. She entered the inn, leaving the man to drive away. Auron noted he staggered a bit before he started driving the carriage again. 

"How about we stay there for the night? I'll be paying. I'd like to see just who this mysterious lady is." He gave a smile, with a mischievous spark in his eye. No, he wasn't interested in her in a womanizing way. She had make herself quite unusual with her actions, and he couldn't resist. When you learn to watch common honest folk for a while, things that aren't so ordinary become all the clearer. Just like that strange perfume she was wearing. It was…strong, to say the least. But there was something about it that he couldn't place his finger on it. It was almost nostalgic in a way. If Drake had no objections, he'd make his way to The White Stag to catch a glimpse of that odd woman.

Stealth had never been a strong suit of Drake, but he could at least keep up with Coranthir well enough.  Had it not been something loud and easy to follow, Drake would have probably lost the trail early on.  Still, the experience was enough to let him know he was barely any good at it.  As soon as the carriage stopped, Corinthir held them back and watched as the occupants left.  A tavern?  Or an inn?  And what's up with that lady.  She seems really high class.  

Coupled with Corinthir's early observation, it made even less sense.  No guards, but high class.  He's right.  There's no way they would have made it into town if the roads are as bad as he says they are.  

"I think I can manage the coin," Drake said confidently.  "The White Stag, huh?  All right…"  He waited for Caranthir to move, and followed suit.  Obviously something of interest was happening, and Drake had a feeling that he'd be, at the bare minimum, of some use.  

Ugh…that perfume is just too much, though….

"If you insist, I won't impose." They were inside, and the lady was just heading up the stairs. Her lips were reddened with rouge, and her skin looked like fine china from what he could see. That perfume had an almost warming, intoxicating feel to it. He was starting to feel lightheaded. Thankfully that feeling faded as she was out of sight. "Hello sirs, how may I be of service?" The elven clerk addressed them. "A room for the night please." He then realized that the fact they were arriving together would probably cause some misunderstanding. But, he tried to play it off as casually as possible. Auron was hoping they would spend enough time that it wouldn't appear that they were following someone. Finding the lady's room shouldn't be difficult. The perfume was a dead giveaway. 

Money changed hands, and he was given a key. It would prove useful in determining how secure the doors in this place were. He loathed the idea of lowering himself to the actions of a common burglar, but he couldn't very well waltz into a woman's chambers. She might be armed. A blade was easy to conceal, and there were many other weapons that a lady could hide on her person and use with ease. When they were out of the clerk's hearing range, he whispered to Drake about what his plan was. "I don't intend to get any sleep tonight…even if it means I'm dead tired in the morning. I'm eager to see what the fair madame has to hide, if she has any secrets."

Drake watched the transaction between Caranthir and the elven clerk go down.  Everything that he did was fluid and graceful, even for an elf.  I wonder what he looks like while in a fight. Of course, Drake would never directly challenge him.  If there wasn't a need to battle, then Drake would rather avoid it.  As the two started to leave, the elven clerk cleared his throat.  "Ah, sirs.  There is a complimentary room service, if you wish.  Just note that payment will be expected when your meal arrives."

Drake perked up to the notion.  "Actually…could you go ahead and send up a few drinks and whatever the chef has to offer for the evening?"  He looked to Caranthir, "My treat."  

"Ah yes, tonight we have stewed venison with local vegetables.  I recommend Honey Mead to go with it; while it may not be the best possible match, it does pair fairly well, in my opinion."  

Drake nodded, "That sounds good.  Just send it up when you get a chance.  Thank you."  

As Caranthir lead the way to their rented room, Drake glanced back down the stairs.  Great.  Now I'm getting paranoid.  "So…what's the game plan, then?" he whispered under his breath.  This was all, in an odd way, exhilarating, even if he wasn't cut out for the type of role.  But at least it's an experience I can talk about.  

It was nice of Drake to treat him. Perhaps in better circumstances he'd keep him on his list of friendly contacts. When they were in private, he explained in more detail. "It's rather simple. A stakeout, as people call it. I prefer calling it a waiting game. The safe choice is to wait for the lady to either leave her room, or for the lights to go out. Yes, I know it sounds worse than it truly is. But we're here to see if something is afoot, not invade someone's personal belongings." His typical pleasant smile gave way to a more calculating demeanor. Sitting in the privacy of their lodgings, he sat with his fingers interlocked and elbows resting on the table. "These locks are simple. Getting in is the easy part. However, making sure we are not seen or heard–that is the challenge. That is why I suggest waiting when the lady is out. These rooms are fairly simple, so she would naturally have to freshen up in the washrooms sometime, yes?"

This was who he really was underneath those layers of illusion and guile. He never tried pulling off something so risky without all the details, and if this was a first for Drake it was also one for him. He liked playing it safe, going with marks he was sure of succeeding with. Risk was best an idea than a reality. Even his wild lifestyle of his sordid past wasn't this dangerous. "I actually don't like the way this is going. It feels too easy. That's when you know something isn't how it looks. Hopefully it's just my conscience knocking at the door, hm?" He gave that familiar smile again. Remember, do not break character unless needed…he told himself. He was genuinely worried though and let out a sigh. "We have to make sure we go after room service for the night is over with. Can't have someone run into us on accident…"

Drake listened intently at the plan.  It wasn't overly complicated, and it made sense to follow, which was the easy part.  In theory, this plan should have completely gone against Drake's better judgement, but something was definitely afoot, and the curiosity and concern that Drake held was more than enough to overrule any moral boundaries that would normally hold one back.

It was, intriguing to say the least, for Drake to see Caranthir in a more logical state.  He was smart, calculating.  Brilliant.  "You said this feels too easy.  Well, from what the world has taught me so far, that means it's definitely too good to be true.  But, the real question then would be why?  Are they intentionally making themselves an easy target?  And for who?  There's no way they could have anticipated you and I to take the trail.  I've never seen anyone like her before, and from what I gather, neither have you.  So i it's not for us, then who?"  Drake crossed his arms.  

It was there again.  That feeling in his gut that this was more than just a coincidence.  The feeling of something or someone pulling him along an invisible string…the ever guiding hand of fate leading him to some unknown destination.  There was no resisting the feeling.  He had no choice but to follow along, and hope for the best.  I just hope that it doesn't swallow me whole…this feeling of near helplessness.  Is it really there, though…or is this just all in my head?

There was a knock at the door, and Drake jumped in surprise.  Oh, right….the room service.  "Just a second…"  

He held his breath when the knock turned out to be their room service. Thank goodness he had stopped talking a moment earlier. Putting on a face for the server, he was all smiles and politeness until they were gone. When he felt it was safe to resume, he answered Drake's questions. "On the contrary, I don't think it matters 'who' she is trying to convince to give chase. She might not even consider staying here long. Instead of thinking 'why would she make herself a target', try asking yourself this question: 'Who is she trying to target?'." He gave Drake some time to think before presenting a more specific question to think over. "Now ask yourself, why would someone come to a place they were not familiar with–alone–with these intentions in mind?" He was trying hard not to make himself look more suspicious than the lady across the hall. This was why he didn't like getting too close to strangers. The more you talked the more you'd spill.

"Either way, let's take a quick look and forget about it all after. Maybe it's best we don't press our luck." He was wondering if he should mention the odd behavior of the carriage driver. Perhaps, it was prudent to do so. "You know…before we went in I noticed another thing. The driver seemed a bit unsteady once the lady left. He couldn't be drunk, he drove in a straight line and made clear turns. I can't say what this all means though." He hadn't touched any of the food yet, too absorbed in his thoughts. For a moment he almost wondered if the food was something to worry about, but brushed the thought aside. That'd be ridiculous. The inn couldn't afford to have a scandal with the kingdom in this state. The stress was getting to him. Not a good sign. Maybe Drake's uneasiness was spreading onto him. "Once the night drags on, I'll keep an ear to the wall for anything out there." The door's keyhole would provide him a sliver of sight to check if anyone was about. Unless he was outside he couldn't tell when the lights were out. The best hour would be in the dead of night–past midnight.

Again, Caranthir seemed to be a wealth of knowledge when it came to reading into people and situations.  If gave Drake a lot to think about in terms of his own inability to see past simple scams and the like, but furthermore iterated that the elf was indeed skilled at what he did.  Who?  He's right.  It's not about why.  Making herself an easy target like that…and if it's not us, maybe…  

Caranthir continued on with his response, leaving Drake yet another question.  "There isn't enough information to come to a conclusion as to why she would have come here, or who she would be trying to target.  Which leads to the reason we're here," the young man concluded.  "At least, I can't think of anything."  Lastly, the elf mentioned the driver.  Drake perked up to that.  "No.  I missed that.  But…"  His excitement died down.  "Well…I mean, it could be anything.  Poison, maybe?"  But that doesn't make a lick of sense.  Why would the woman poison her own driver?  Unless…  "Unless the woman's target was following her from the get go, and we just missed it."  Drake crossed his arms.  "This is way more work than what I'm used to….Bah, I'm no good at this."  He stood up and walked over to the two mugs of honey mead, and took one for himself.  If Drake were even half as aware as Caranthir, he might have had the same doubts about the meal that the elf did.

He took a few sips of the mead.  "It's good.  You want yours?" Drake asked casually.  

Whatever substance the driver had been afflicted with was anybody's guess. He shrugged, and soon both of them were on the same page. When Drake said this was more than he was used to, he had to agree. Ah yes, he'd almost forgotten the food. Turning to Drake he gave a small smile. "I'll pass on the mead for now. Maybe later." If his suspicions proved false, he'd have to drink to celebrate. While he ate he was still paying attention to any sounds of movement in the hall and from the first floor. With the meal finished, he was by the door, listening. Time passed, and the hours dragged on. Gradually the noise from the halls died down as midnight steadily approached. It was difficult eavesdropping this way, but he had to make do with what he had. In his evening vigil, he noted that at least one other person in the hall of rooms had ordered room service tonight.

A hush fell over the entire inn when the late hours of the night arrived. The lights in his own room were growing dim, and he didn't hear any footsteps. Apprehension and anxiety led to hesitation, but Auron forcibly pushed those thoughts aside. He had come so far already, it would be weak of him to give up now. Just a quick peek and they'd be out–he told himself. Yes, that was all. They weren't stealing anything, so why was he so nervous? Cautiously, he turned the knob of their room's door as quietly as he could. Only when the door was open did he gradually release it to minimize the sound the mechanism would make. A furtive glance down the hall showed it was empty. He then motioned to Drake and put a hand to his lips. His face was completely serious, and not a hint of that affable demeanor was present. The smell of the perfume led him to where he believed the lady was currently residing.

Before he did anything else, he checked the keyhole and the crack under the door. Both showed the interior was dark. Either she had retired for a night's rest, or she wasn't here. He hoped it was the latter. With his knowledge of the locks for the guest rooms, he knew that once he was in he could simply unlock it from the other side. Looking again through the keyhole, he saw a sliver of moonlight cast light on the floor, and made that his point of teleportation. In a blink of an eye, he vanished from Drake's sight and was in the room. Inside, he held still as he made a quick check. He was panicking that he'd wake the woman when he noticed the window was wide open. The bed was empty, she was nowhere to be seen. Thank the gods. He unlocked the door and let Drake in, then closed it after him. "Alright, let's go through this as fast as we can. I don't know when she'll be back, or where she is right now so we need to hurry."

The stench of the perfume was overpowering in here, and it made him gag. Breathing through his mouth was all he could do as he began checking the cabinets and drawers provided by the inn. He took care not to touch the woman's belongings–as he didn't want to leave any traces of them being in here. The drawers on his side didn't have anything, and he was moving along quickly when he opened the wardrobe. What he saw in there made him back up suddenly to bang his leg against a chair. Muffling himself, he clapped a hand over his mouth as he scrambled to his feet. Inside the wardrobe was…an elf woman wrapped up in binding. The clothes she wore meant she was one of the people who was working in The White Stag.

In the time that they were forced to wait, Drake was forced to keep himself occupied with his thoughts.  A lot had happened during the past several weeks, more so than just his usual wandering from place to place.  It was a lot to take in, and for once, he had the downtime to actually collect his thoughts and recover.  Caranthir seemed to be hyper focused on the comings and goings of the inn folk, which didn't surprise Drake in the least.  This seemed to be his specialty.  Honestly that should have raised into question the elf's character, but Drake was far past the point of ever doubting him on wrongdoing.  

Finally, though, it was time to move.  Caranthir silently moved to open the door, his motions to slick that Drake nearly missed his opportunity to follow.  Not accustomed to stealth, Drake had already decided to leave his swords in the room, opting to keep his dagger in case things went wrong.  The tight halls and smaller rooms wouldn't be ideal for swordplay.  Drake did feel as though Caranthir was trying to avoid combat if at all possible…but it never hurt to be prepared.  

Caranthir signaled to follow, but be silent.  Drake nodded, and without a word slipped out of the room, close on the elf's heels.  Caranthir found the room with ease due to the overpowering smell of the perfume, and motioned for Drake to stop.  He seemed to look through the keyhole, as if to scout if it were safe.  Without a sound, though, the elf vanished, and Drake's eyes widened in an almost panic.  Wait…where did he-  Drake moved closer, and peaked through the keyhole himself.  Right.  Magic.  The door was unlocked, and Drake came in, the door closing behind him.

"Got it," Drake replied, and started to search.  He noted that Caranthir was being careful not to touch any of the woman's belongings.  It was a good idea, and the young man tried his best to follow suit.  The perfume, though, was making it an utter pain to breath, and for a moment, he wondered if it was possible to die of toxic exposure to whatever the perfume was made of.  Drake was checking over the bed when he heard Caranthir stumble, and he swung around, his hand reaching for the dagger.
/
Is that-  Drake moved forward, beside Caranthir, making sure the elf was okay first.  "Is she…?"  The young man wasn't sure what to do.  Dead bodies from combat were one thing, but, to potentially find one hidden in a mysterious woman's room, well…

"Please tell me she's not dead…" he whispered finally.