Chapter 2 - The Tavern (1/2)

10 Years Later

Solskin

Shiria

It wasn't that good of an ale, but it was was ale all the same. Gaining a reputation as a monster slayer came with its benefits. Free food, ale, and the gratitude of all the townspeople. But I was still restless. I needed to repay the men who gave their lives trying to defend me. I needed to continue their work and follow their duties however I could. To Erik and his men. To the brave soldiers fighting in the forest. I would join the army and personally serve the king to repay them. But, until then, this is nice.

”Another!”

”Sure, Solskin. Keep killin 'em nasty gribblies out there n' there be ale for ya here,” said the tavern keeper, a scrawny man compared to all of the customers, except one.

He looked shorter than everyone and less built, but Solskin sensed danger irradiating from him. He didn't just sit in the corner focusing on his drink like all the other drunkards, but his calculating black eyes darted across the room, scanning. He looked relaxed, but I noticed his left arm, wrapped in dirty yellow bandages, always stayed close to his sword. He intrigued me. His clothes were ragged and torn, but I could see the tattered form of a black and gold dragon head. The insignia of the Galian Royal Army. Gathering my pints of ale, I plopped down on a seat next to him. He studied me with a disinterested stare but said nothing.

”You, my friend, need something to drink. The strongest you have for my friend here, keeps!”

”Dwarven port, comin' right up.”

Two large wooden mug were slammed onto the table by one of the waitress. The port inside was a noxious, cloudy yellow that made me regret ever laying sight on it.

”Might as well drink. It's all on me, my friend.” I raised my mug to him in a gesture of friendship, a bit

of the drink sloshing out of the cup and onto the table.

He quickly glanced that the port and then pushed it away. It fell off the table and splattered across the wooden boards.

I was bothered by it. I didn't really care, I was too eager to ask him everything I wanted to know. I stood up facing him. ”To friendship.”

Xavier

I watched the idiot down the port despite my warning.

”Imbecile,” I muttered under my breath. After a while, I sighed and attempted to excuse myself from the table, but found myself trapped in place by a drunken arm slung over my shoulders.

”So-o. I-I 'ave some-somethin I need to a- ask you.”

I stared at him blankly, mildly annoyed at the situation. With a grunt of disdain, I shrugged off his arm and walked upstairs to my room. Before reaching the stairs, two big bruisers stood in the way. They were laborers with large arms meant for lifting haystacks. Judging by their breath, they were very drunk. Great.

”Missster Heerrr-ooooo dude has 'old you th-that you 've som-ing he ne-eds.”