Night had fully descended upon E-Rantel, and the tavern's warm, amber glow spilled through the grimy windows, carving a golden shaft of light across the otherwise pitch-black street.
Clementine stood just outside, drawing in a slow breath laced with the heavy scent of spilled ale, woodsmoke, and the faint metallic tang of old blood that always seemed to cling to places like this.
The memory of last night's drink still haunted her tongue—sharp, malty, with that lingering bite of oak barrel and alcohol burn—so vivid that her feet had carried her here almost of their own accord.
She licked her lips slowly, a predatory little smile forming. "Helant San… I wonder if he saved me a mug…"
The image of the white-haired adventurer rose unbidden in her mind: those striking features, that easy confidence. It made her mouth water anew, as though the beer from yesterday were still sliding down her throat. She pushed the heavy door open with a casual shove.
Jingle~~
Inside, the tavern's lamplight bathed everything in rich, honeyed hues. Helant sat at the very same corner table as the night before, posture relaxed, a full mug of untouched beer resting before him like an offering.
The instant his eyes met hers, they brightened. A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Perfect~ Clementine's steps lightened instantly. Beneath her dark cloak, her long, pale legs flashed with each stride, smooth skin catching the flickering light like polished marble.
She reached the table and flicked the cloak aside with deliberate flair, letting it pool around the chair as she sat. Helant San's gaze followed the graceful curve of her waist, then lingered on the full swell of her hips pressing against the worn wood.
Without preamble, she snatched the mug and took a deep, appreciative sip, savoring the cool foam against her lips.
"Oh my, Helant San," she purred, voice low and teasing. "Were you actually waiting for me?"
A wicked grin curved her mouth, scarlet eyes glimmering with dark expectation.
"Heh~ I was about to give up hope," Helant San replied gently, though amusement danced in his tone. "Miss Clementine, if you'd delayed any longer, I'd have had no choice but to head home alone."
"Hmph." Her eyes sparkled, outer corners lifting in delight. "Waiting this late into the night? Are you plotting something naughty?"
She slid her chair closer with a soft scrape, leaning in until her beer-scented breath ghosted warmly against his ear. "Thinking of doing something bad with me.. or to me?"
Helant let out a soft, exaggerated sigh at the provocation. "I've accepted an escort job. I'm leaving town tomorrow—for a few days, at least. I thought someone might… miss me, so I came to say goodbye properly."
Clementine took another long swallow, lashes lowering to veil her gaze. For a brief moment, she fell silent, the playful mask slipping just enough to reveal something almost thoughtful beneath.
"What's with that expression?" Helant San teased lightly. "Are you actually going to miss me?"
She raised the mug again, gulping deeply before turning her face away with feigned indifference. "Who would miss you? I'm just… a little worried, that's all."
Her slender finger tapped the modest copper adventurer tag pinned to his chest, the metal cool against her skin.
"A tiny Copper-rank like you could die in a heartbeat out there. It would be such a shame to waste a pretty face like yours."
"Tiny Copper-rank?" Helant San arched a brow, voice laced with mock offense. "You sound awfully confident in your own strength, Miss Clementine."
"Of course I'm strong!"
Clementine straightened proudly in her seat. The layered plates of conquered adventurer tags—gleaming medals sewn into the bodice of her revealing armor—caught the lamplight and flashed like scales on some exotic beast. She tapped them with one jade-pale finger, making the metal chime softly.
"Every single tag here came from someone I broke. So tell me—am I strong, or am I strong?"
"Oh?" Helant reached out and touched one at random, eyebrows rising. "Adamantite class? Impressive."
"It took everything I had to bring that one down," she boasted, pride blazing openly in her eyes as she watched for his reaction. "But I did it. And I kept the proof."
"Incredible, Miss Clementine. A true rival for the Kingdom's own Warrior Chief," Helant said in exaggerated awe, blue eyes widening theatrically. "Here I was, only noticing your beauty. How shallow of me."
"Hmph." Her soft laugh made her creamy chest rise and fall enticingly. "When you return, you can tag along under my protection. I'll keep the monsters off you."
Clementine narrowed her eyes, a secret smile playing on her lips. By the time Helant came back, Khajiit would have drowned E-Rantel in undead. The city would be a playground of corpses—nothing left to threaten someone like him. She could take him 'adventuring' properly then. The thought sent a delicious thrill through her.
Helant hid a faint smile of his own. Clementine was unexpectedly… cute, in her twisted way. He'd half-expected her to come after his own tag. Instead, she seemed almost fond.
"Then I'll thank you in advance, Miss Clementine."
His sunny grin and handsome features made something flutter in her chest. She swallowed, cheeks warming despite herself.
"Ehm.." She shifted even closer, the heat of his body brushing hers. "Nice brew. Strong finish," she murmured, deliberately swaying so her pale skin gleamed under the light.
When she feigned unsteadiness, Helant steadied her with a hand at her waist.
Cool, silken skin met his palm.
Clementine took the invitation and slid smoothly into his lap. "I'm fine. Not drunk at all."
Helant sighed. "I didn't ask."
Feeling suddenly too eager, she pushed lightly against his chest and changed tack. "So… where exactly is this job taking you?"
"Carne Village." Helant studied her clear scarlet eyes and grinned. "Look at you, tipsy already. Shall I walk you home?"
Clementine flushed, voice turning airy with mock indignation. "Pervert. I'll see myself home just fine."
She rose gracefully, flashing one long, pale leg as she turned.
"Stay there a good long while, all right?"
Jingle~~
The door shut behind her. Clementine vanished into the night.
"Helant San, aren't Albedo and Mino enough for you? You're still out here flirting." Momonga—fully armored as the dark warrior Momon—dropped heavily onto the bench opposite.
"Clementine is a former member of the Slane Theocracy's Black Scripture," Helant replied, all traces of levity vanishing. "After deserting, she slipped into the Kingdom. Now she's plotting with a necromancer named Khajiit."
Momonga tilted his head slightly. "Gathering intel, then?"
"No, he's just a hopeless skirt-chaser!" Mino popped up from nowhere, big eyes brimming with accusation.
Helant lifted her effortlessly onto his lap and ruffled her hair. "She came to me. Blame my overwhelming charm."
Mino nestled against him with a pout. "I don't care. I want to be the main wife!"
Helant ignored the declaration. Claiming that title would require getting past Albedo first—an impossible feat.
"So.. Black Scripture," Momonga mused. "Helant-san.. What's your plan with her?"
"She and the necromancer intend to drown E-Rantel in undead," Helant explained calmly. "We'll let them proceed—then swoop in to 'save' the city. Excellent publicity for both of us."