15 – Taverns and Strength

“Afternoon, Stubbs.” Myra answered, her voice sounding exhausted. Her eyes scanned the taproom, pausing on each group of patrons before she walked up to the bar, dropping her voice. “I… I’m hoping to the heavens that you can help me.”

“Oh?” Stubbs matched her volume so that Ren could barely hear it, even a few feet away.

“The Meridia shipment was delayed again–monsters on the road– and I find myself in increasingly dire need of a bottle of fine wine or something similar.” She dipped her head.

“Ah, I see. More trouble with his highness, I take it?”

“Something like that. I…” She flicked her eyes around the common room again. ”I don’t know how much longer I can take it, Stubbs. I already went to Lanni and he didn’t have anything, waiting on the shipment of course, and I really, really would like to avoid Menda’s.”

As she talked, Stubbs’s mouth turned into a tight line nestled inside his thick red beard. “Of course, Myra. You’re in luck, actually.” He grabbed the very-recently deposited dusty bottle from the bar. “This is from one of the best batches of mead I made a few seasons back, one of the last bottles.”

“Oh, Stubbs, are you certain?”

“It’s no trouble, dear.”

Myra began digging in the folds of her sage dress, bringing out a clinking leather purse; she sighed. “How much will it be?”

“Is it guild funds?”

“It’s…” She dropped her eyes. “Umm.”

“Then it’s on me. Don’t say it was made here. Tell our fine administrator that it was the last remnants of a ten-year bottle of mead from the Scolin vineyards, they are known to brew some of the finest mead in the region. He won’t know the difference.”

“I… thank you, friend.”

“I will have to find a way to make it up to these fine people, though.” He motioned towards the three. “It was intended to be a celebratory bottle cheering their recent success.”

Seeing that the initial excitement of the three newcomers had momentarily abated, the taproom was once again filled with the din of a half dozen small conversations as the patrons turned back to their drinks.

Myra turned towards Jax, Kaylin, and Ren, introducing herself. “I’m Myra, assistant to the guild administrative staff.” She offered a brief curtsy.

“No need for all that,” Jax said. “I’m Jax Lar, of the Lar family. This is my cousin Kaylin Sael, and our newest companion Ren…” He trailed off.

“Just Ren is fine.” He answered from the shadows of the cloak.

“Well, my thanks to you. Our esteemed local guild administrator finds himself with refined taste–”

Ren chuckled, “Ha, refined. Get it?”

The others looked at him.

“Anyway… thank you for your understanding.” She pulled out a single silver coin and sat it on the counter. “Stubbs, their drinks and food are my treat tonight.”

“Myra, yo–” Stubbs began, but she was already heading towards the door. He called after her. “Bring Lilly by in the morning, I’ll save a slice of raspberry, just for you two.”

Myra turned, smiled kindly, waved, and strode out the door, wax-topped bottle in hand.

“Poor girl,” Stubbs muttered, deftly sliding the coin off the counter.

“She did seem… distracted, and little on edge,” Kaylin said.

“I don’t envy her, she’s at the whims of the guilds, and I’m sure you know how some of them can be.” He clapped his thick hands together. “Enough of that, though, we’re celebrating and hearing of your wonderful tale. I don’t think I could bear to part with another bottle of the Queen’s Harvest, but we still have excellent ale.” He pulled out three pewter mugs along with several round polished wooden plates. “And some of the finest pies within fifty langs. Here’s a few slices of wild boar, made fresh this morning.”

The afternoon stretched into evening as the three travelers drank, ate, and regaled what became a small crowd with tales of their encounters. Jax proved to be quite the storyteller, his deep voice carrying through the common room, weaving with the crack of fresh logs, and the occasional thunking of mugs on wood.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, Ren proceeded to use insight on any and all food and drink around the tap room. He discovered that the vast majority had no magical properties whatsoever, with Juliette telling him things like “[Cold ale, it’s cold. No additional effects.]” and “[two-day old cheese. No additional effects.]” Ren thought that the pies might have been different, but Juliette informed him that they were a “[Complete dish. Not a valid ingredient].” I guess monster parts are better for this than I thought.

As Jax spoke, he told of his and Kaylin’s wandering journey through what Ren learned was the edges of something called the Mana Wilds, their brief encounter with Ren, and subsequent refinement. Ren let out a sigh of relief when he at least did not mention the specifics of their paths or skills, though not for lack of trying; held at bay exclusively due to the not-so-subtle nudges and shoves from Kaylin. While they sat, drank, and talked, the last remnants of the musttel food boon drained out of Ren.

“And so,” Jax continued, well into his fifth mug. “Our winding, fateful journey carried us across your fine, quarried stone bridge over the Eln through the well-trod paths of your most sensational town, and into one of the finest inns in fifty langs!” He raised his voice and mug towards the large bar man to a smattering of cheers. To the side, Celeste rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion, moving to collect several additional empty tankards.

A brown-haired, dark-skinned man, dressed in a simple leather tunic, streaked with coal, leaned forward, his thick, muscled arm resting on his knee, drink in hand. “Now, I ‘eard them refined ‘ave incredible strength, like five of us regular folk. That true?”

“Ha! We wouldn’t know,” Jax said. “We haven’t had the chance to test it, perhaps not five, at least not yet.”

“Wel’ I say we ‘ave a little contest. Eyes bet anyone of us mining folk, can beat yous in a fair test of strength. What do we say boys?” There was a small chorus of drunken agreement. From a side table a thin-cloaked figure leaned forward.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I’m always one for a game of strength and drinking! What did you have in mind, friend,” Jax asked as he stood up.

From his side, Kaylin put a hand on his arm. “Now hold a moment cousin, we don’t want any trouble or things to get out of hand, remember last time…” She glanced over at Stubbs, who waved his hand and nodded that the men meant well.

“There’s no ‘arm in it.” The man continued. “Just a liddle game of arms, jus’ the one round. Unless you’re frightened o’ course?” He and the group chuckled.

The small group of three men–and one woman who had been sitting on one of their laps, with them, but not WITH them, Ren thought– cleared a spot on one of the thick tables.

Kaylin nodded to Stubbs, “Well, in that case, why don’t I try first?” She rose , handed her staff to Jax, and moved over to sit on the polished bench. “Which one of you fine folks would like to challenge me?”

“Now miss…” the man started.

“Please, call me Kaylin, and refined is refined. How about this, winner buys the next round for the other group? Simple stakes.”

“Well.” The man shot a look around at his companions. “If you’re certain, M’name’s Allister.”

“The pleasure is ours. Now, you mentioned a contest of arms.”

As the man, Allister, moved to sit on the other side of the table, Ren genuinely wondered what the outcome would be. In a fair exchange, Jax would likely have won against the miner, but not confidently. The slight, thin-framed Kaylin would not have stood a chance. He leaned forward, interested.

They both set their arms on the polished wood and clasped hands, Kaylin’s absolutely dwarfed by the thick cords of Allister’s forearm. A small crowd of what Ren assumed were regulars squeezed around the table for a better view.

An older woman stood up as an impromptu judge, tankard in hand. “Whens I set m’drink down.” She took a long sip from the gray pewter mug. A hush rippled over the group as the woman slowly lowered her cup to the table.

Thunk.

Immediately the man’s arm flexed, knuckles turning white and thick tendons bulging out along his arm. Kaylin, on the other hand, tensed, but otherwise appeared unaffected. Interesting, Ren thought.