Heart of Lamar

Silvertown had been established early in the 1850’s, a prospering mining town settled in the heart of what was locally known as the Lamar Valley. The town itself wasn’t necessarily modest, sporting two inns, three bars, two separate stables, a post office, a carriage service, a general store, a gunsmith, a smithy, a barbers shop, and many homes to house the families that had established their lives in pursuit of shiny metal and glory. It was there that Kora arrived late into the night, a nearly full moon shining down on her and her horse as they approached the stable for riding stock. The town itself, despite the late hour, was still a bustling hub of activity. Gas lanterns hung in the streets and off of buildings illuminating the way with soft firelight, offering up an ambiance of tranquility and warmth. It had been a long time since Kora had entered a town, and she was eager to take advantage of the food, drink, and bed that such a place would offer. She observed the townsfolk who stopped as she passed, each of them regarding her with a cold unwelcoming glare. But they said nothing, for travelers were a key part of the town's economy. Kora smiled at the thought of their begrudging acceptance. She wondered if they’d realized yet that she wasn’t human, just like they weren’t. The stable was not as illuminated as the rest of the town, the main building and corrals lay on the outskirts to the north, a brief ride down the main street and a sharp turn left would quickly bring one to the ramshackle building where the heady scent of hay and manure filled the air. Kora dismounted her mare and listened for a moment to the soft snuffling and chewing of the other horses who were quietly enjoying the evening. She patted her horse on the neck encouragingly before saying, “Don’t worry Striker, I’m sure you’ll be welcomed warmly. Just remember to be on your best behavior, this is their home not ours.” Striker was an ornery mare with a temper, she wanted things her way and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. This was especially true when she was mingling with her own kind. Kora hoped that their long lonely trek had left the mare feeling more amenable to company, if not she’d end up having to shill out another few coppers to buy a private stall. The mare huffed, twisting her nose towards the cinch of the saddle with an impatient stamp of her foot. Kora chuckled, quickly setting to work pulling the tack and brushing her mare. “Evening miss, one horse?” The stablemaster asked as he shuffled out from the main building. He was a small man in stature, slightly hunched with a leather apron tied over his front. He had thinning silvery hair and a face with enough wrinkles to tell a story of hard work and long years. Under the sun he may have resembled the leather apron he wore, at least in color. Kora straightened and tipped her hat to the gentleman, “Aye sir, and she’s a bit sour tempered so if she gives you any trouble please separate her and charge me the difference when I return to collect her.” The old man nodded once, curtly, licking his lips and muttering under his breath about his growing list of chores. Kora made a mental note to offer the man a little extra in compensation for her late night interruption, perhaps that would soften the blow of his increased workload. Once she was done taking care of Striker the man led her off into a distant corral with only a handful of dark colored horses. The animals spoke to each other in shrill screeches, pawing and striking for a few minutes before they finally settled. It had only taken about two minutes for Striker to establish herself as the alpha mare, her neck arched proudly as she led the others in a gallop around the fenceline. “That’s a mighty powerful animal you got there.” The stablemaster chuckled as he approached her, he wiped his hands with a rag before reaching forward in greeting. Kora shook his hand with a smile, “Indeed. She’s taken me far, and I anticipate we’ve got a lot further to go yet.” That was a bit of an understatement, she was certain she was nearing her quarry but she was still a few weeks off even with hard riding. “Where do your travels take you?” The old man asked as he led her over to the stable’s main building, the section that served as both his office and his home. Kora dug around her purse for the money, pulling free two gold pieces. She bit one in half before offering the man the majority. His eyes grew wide with delight, his hands moved fast to snatch away the payment. She smiled to herself, it was always nice to make someone’s day. “I can’t say where my travels will take me. There is still much mystery on where I’ll finally stop.” She knew her answer was unsatisfying, the scowl on the old man’s face was evidence enough of that. Truth be told she couldn’t leave much of a trail, her hunters would capitalize on any fragment of information they could squeeze from the precious few people she’d interacted with along her travels. The less she revealed, the better off everyone was. “Well, I suppose I aughtta be lettin’ you get on yer way then. The inn’s up the way both have some available rooms for rent. Lucky you.” The man’s voice was ominous at the end, his dark eyes gleaming under the moonlight’s glare. Kora couldn’t help but wonder just what he meant, but before she could gather the courage to ask he had already shuffled into his home and locked the door with an audible ‘thump’. Without wasting any more time Kora turned on her heel and snatched her tack off the ground, storing it safely next to the stable’s walls before grabbing her saddlebags. She slung those over her shoulder as she began her search for a room to sleep in. As the stablemaster had said, there were two inns, both relatively close to each other. One inn was markedly larger than the other, standing a whopping three stories tall with a large river rock chimney jutting out at the top, wisps of white and gray smoke spilled free giving it an enticing atmosphere in the dark of the night. The second inn was smaller at just two stories, the chimney for that one was brick instead of stone and was rather small in stature in comparison. Kora made the assumption that the smaller of the inns was generally reserved for the miners and working men of the town while the larger one served guests and passers-through. So it was to the larger one that she trekked, avoiding the cautious glances and sneers of the townsfolk. By now they would have scented her, and their guards would be keeping a close eye on her. Kora was one of many werewolves that occupied the world, though unlike those within the town she had no pack. At least not one she wished to call her own, despite their rabid search for her. This made her technically a rogue, and the town pack would likely smell that little tidbit on her too. Luckily, so long as she caused no trouble, they would most likely leave her alone. Unfortunately for her, her supply of victuals had run out days ago and hunting in wolf form was too time consuming. Not to mention if she left a trail of dead deer it’d make it that much easier for her pursuers to find her and drag her back. Stepping into the inn Kora found herself assaulted by the shrill tones of a piano being played animatedly, the boisterous tune carrying through the wood halls as if to welcome all comers. The front area of the hotel was where the mail room, guest registry, and luggage storage sat. Down the hall from the staircase was the kitchen, a large room filled to the brim with cookery and ingredients along with three massive cast iron ovens pumping out food almost haphazardly, she could see at least three cooks bustling and prepping for the next meal. “Good evening darling, it’s not often we get a late comer. Looking for a room?” An elderly woman smiled up from behind the registry desk, she had before her a thick leather bound book with eloquent writing filling the yellowed pages. The woman was larger in stature, her round face warm and inviting with rosy cheeks and a kind smile. She had pristine blue eyes like the creek water that flowed through the mountains. She wore a clean white skirt with a brown vest over her buttoned up white shirt. It was a clean professional look, Korra could only assume the woman was the owner of the inn. “Yes ma’am, I’d like a private room.” She knew that these sorts of inns often also hosted some of the wayward miners who couldn’t find space in the other inn, and with the success of Silvertown she was sure there were some extra miners about. The woman pulled a pair of spectacles from the front pocket of her shirt and flipped through her book, her finger tracing down the lines of writing. “I’ve got a few private rooms, not much different between them. Do you need any storage options?” The woman’s honey sweet voice filtered above the music, her blue eyes glancing up to see Kora shake her head in response. “Well, a simple room on the third floor is available. It’s got a bed, handmade quilts, a wash-basin, and a table and chair should you like to take a meal while you’re up there. It’s five coppers a night, of course that’s not including any food you may wish to order.” Kora quickly pulled the copper coins from her satchel and passed them to the woman with a smile, “If the tavern is still open, I shall take my meal and drink there.” She hoped that it was, she could use a few glasses of that elusive amber liquid that burned her stomach as if she’d drank fire itself. The woman returned her smile as she pocketed the money and scribbled into her book, “Indeed it is, we have several taverns to choose from but if it’s food and drink you’re after I’d suggest ol’ Tom’s place, it’s next to the general store. What name may I put down for you darling?” Kora gave the woman her name, which was promptly scribbled into the book, before taking the key to her room and climbing to the third floor with a quick ‘Thank you Ma’am.’ The third floor of the inn was relatively small in comparison to the first two, but only the second and third floors actually boasted rooms to rent, the first floor was reserved for the critical functions of the inn. Within the room Kora found exactly what the woman had described, she drank in the musky scent of wood smoke from the fire below and sat her saddlebags on the bed, the springs screeching in protest. It wasn’t grand, the walls were adorned with a somewhat tacky gold and blue printed wallpaper with a flower heavy pattern. She could still smell the glue that was holding the wallpaper, the acrid stench only just overshadowed by wood smoke. She wondered for a moment just how long the inn had been in operation, and with it the town. But those questions were for another time, her stomach growled loudly reminding her of the true reason for her visit. Finding ‘Tom’s Place’ as the woman had called it, was easy enough. The town was laid in a relatively straight path, excluding the smithy, stables, and post office. Tom’s tavern was almost directly in the center of town, and was apparently quite popular as it had at least seven horses tied up out front. It also had a bit of a crowd forming, with nearly a dozen men standing on the porch with drinks in hand, cigars hanging from their lips, and their free hands tucked comfortably in their pockets. They only greeted her with passing glances, hardly concerned as she pushed through the swinging doors and into the establishment. Inside she found the place to be packed, the wooden floor groaned as each person moved about. The majority of the tables had already been claimed, groups of men and the occasional woman drinking and eating heartily. Another piano was playing a lively tune, and the candles and lanterns inside rendered the place bright and glowing. It wasn’t the sort of ambiance she had expected from a roughshod mining town bar, but she found it to be pleasant nonetheless. Behind the bar there were three men, each boasting an impressive display of facial hair carefully groomed to show off their roguish features. They weren’t old by any means, the one she pegged as the oldest had only the barest salt and pepper to his dark silky black hair. He wore a striped apron over the front of his chest, and as she approached she saw him expertly cleaning a crystal glass. His dark eyes glanced over to her in an instant, and she could see his predatory instincts kick in the moment he scented her. “My, my, if it ain’t a wanderin’ she-wolf. Lookin fer a meal darlin’?” He drawled, his accent heavy and foreign to her. But he didn’t seem like he’d be aggressive, and his acceptance of her seemed to have assuaged the suspicions of the rest of the tavern’s occupants. She took a seat at the bartop and marveled at the massive selection of spirits displayed against the large mirrored backdrop. “Food would surely be nice, and so would a drink.” She slid a few coppers forward, the barkeep grabbed them swiftly and motioned to the youngest looking wolf who quickly departed to the back rooms where she was sure the kitchen sat. While the young man took care of that, the oldest of the three poured her a generous glass of fine amber liquid, whiskey if she knew her bottles well enough. “Thank ya’ kindly sir.” She offered him a smile before downing the entire contents of the glass in a single swallow. She reveled in the fiery burn as it traveled from her lips to her stomach. How she missed the finer things of life in her travels. She hoped that soon she could enjoy a break in a nice town with her brother, as soon as she managed to find the lousy bastard. “Top er’ off?” He held the bottle forward and she dug for a copper. The man shook his head, “This one’s on the house. Call it a token of my respect for a woman who can drink like you.” He poured the liquid with a wink. She smiled broadly at him holding her glass up before downing it once more. She would surely sleep well tonight, perhaps she’d sleep well enough that she wouldn’t rise until well after the sun for once. “A man after my heart.” She chuckled, sliding the glass over to him. He pulled a new bottle from beneath the bar top and she handed him a handful more coppers to pay for her upcoming binge. The barkeep simply smiled, poured her drink, and departed to tend to another customer, leaving the bottle behind for her to drink at her leisure. After a few minutes the younger man appeared with a heaping plate of peas, mashed potatoes and gravy, and two thick slabs of roasted meat. Her stomach rumbled loudly and her mouth started to water in anticipation. “My, my, what a heavenly sight.” She eagerly grabbed the plate from the man and offered a quick thank you. After he’d passed her the needed silverware she dug in with gusto. She was so preoccupied with her meal that she didn’t even notice the band of rather large, burly, and intimidating looking men who had just pushed their way into the establishment. Not even when the ring-leader took a seat next to her, and began to watch with an amused fascination.