The viliage was small, quiet, and compared to the places Linde had been, it was rather ramshackle. The gate was old, and Linde had the thought that if there was a siege, it would burn and fall with little more than a few well placed arrows. She could probably do it herself, if she was wont to such a deed. A pig farmer crossed ahead of her, tipping his hat behind the squeal of several fat pink pigs. The guards paid him no mind, but the elder guard eyed the tiny framed girl suspiciously.
"We don't take no riff-raff boy. What's your business here?"
Linde turned, her bright green eyes catching the last glimpses of the sun, setting the guard aback. She lifted her helm, and tresses of pale green hair fell from her shoulders. "I'm no boy, sir. I am Orelinde. My business is my own."
"It's a Forrest Elf, sir!" The younger guard, whose face was barely showing the shadow of manhood, exclaimed.
The elder guard gave him a prompt smack upon the back of his head.
"I will be on my way then." Linde stared the elder down. "Unless thee has other requests?"
The elder guard shook his grey hair, and to Linde's amazement, bowed low, knuckling his right fist to his forehead. The younger stared at him a moment, but prompted by a swift smack on the rump, did the same.
As Linde walked off, she heard the elder guard. "That be no plain Forrest Elf, boy. That be one of a house of Royalty, or I am not Jobias Thriddle."
Linde smiled to herself. Even in the farthest reaches of the world, her prestige was noticed amongst men. This gave her a satisfaction she could not deny, but also another fear. How can she hide herself, if she was so easily recognized?
She pondered this, stopping at the first inn she saw. The serving wench was pretty, if a bit plump. Linde saw first a human man, and sat herself as far from him as she could. She smelled power on him, power that should not be in the hands of mortals, but that was not her concern.
"What can I get you?" The wench asked, her blouse opened just enough to reveal the crease of her bosom.
"Water. Cold, if you have it. And some bread."
"Hhmph. There is an alms house down the road, if that be your need."
Linde handed her a silver piece, and the wench'es mouth fell agape. "I have no need of anything aside from water, a slice of bread, and silence. Do you understand me?"
The wench nodded, walking away with an oddly made curtsy. Linde thought the girl would fall over. It had been a rash move, she only had three silver pieces and thrice that in copper. But, as she had learned, the show of money to the right people, usually a talkative barmaid, could get many a thing done.
She was correct. Soon enough, the wench had spread the tale of Linde's charity to the barkeep, and he in turn to the innkeep. Linde would spend the night in the finest of rooms, alhtought the villiages finest would barely pass for a decent room back home, the accomadations were clean and the sheets were soft.
Whether or not she would pay for it at the end of the week, well, that was another story.