“And the goblins, they scread,
Their glimring eyes,
With scarlet hate filled,
as they raged through the night!
And the great silver sword,
Its aim true and just –
split the vermin apart,
ground their skulls into dust!
And the maidens so fair,
From the edge of despair,
Saw the glimr of hope,
Braving the earthen slope,
For their saviour has co,
Their torntors no more,
Ca forth the Silver Claymore!”
“To Bern!”
“Cheers!”
“To the Silver Claymore!”
When I entered the inn, a small boy stood at the reception desk.
Throwing a quick look at , he pointed towards the dining room, its door open wide.
To call the atmosphere inside festive would not be an overstatent.
The sounds of n laughing, mugs clashing in the air, and even a bard’s song - accompanied by an aggressive, powerful lute tune - could even be heard from the street.
As I entered, right at the end of a performance, I saw the room packed, with so of the n being the ones who t the party at the town's entrance last night.
Of course, the inn keeper, Arthur, was also here, serving drinks at the bar, and the n of the evening - Bern and his two companions - sat at the largest table, surrounded by so of the cheering patrons.
“Oi, Seb!”
As the dwarf noticed my arrival, he waved his hand, motioning at the empty seat beside him.
Bern, sitting near him, turned his head and nodded, while the (half) elf was too imrsed in conversation to notice.
“Saved you a seat, lad! Co! No, wait! Grab so ale from the bar first.”
The dwarf changed his mind mid sentence, pointing at the busy bar.
‘This isn't exactly what I ca for… oh well, I finished everything I've planned and more, anyway. If I left now and only returned to Bern later to ask for money, that would be beyond awkward – rude, no, insulting even.’
I exhaled. I couldn't shake the feeling I was wasting ti here, but rationally, I understood that feeling this way right now was absurd.
‘In for a copper, in for a gold.’
Doing my best to bury my unwarranted sense of urgency, I made my way to the bar.
Arthur, having just finished pouring a drink, spotted right away.
“Sebastian! What can I get you for?”
“One ale.”
“One ale, coming right up!”
The inn keeper (or should I call him bartender for now?) took out one of the larger mugs, filling it to the brim.
“Food will be out shortly! My sweet wife is cooking up sothing special tonight. Don't even think about skipping early!”
As he smiled, I nodded, even managing to flash a smile back, and went towards my seat.
“That the kid you told about? The one you t in the mines?”
“Aye. Gave us the bloody scare, that one. Standing in that damn hole, sword poised to strike, like so damn specter, clawing its way from beyond the grave to guard that bloody passage. Good thing the young priestess had her evil detection miracle – if she didn't, he likely wouldn't be around to give us a hand with those wolves later. Oh, the tree lover helped with that too, I think.”
As I was waiting for my ale, I couldn't help but overhear the dwarf talking to another visitor – a muscular man with a big, magnificent black beard, one that could rival the dwarf, and curly black hair. He was pretty short for a human, and his fra was relatively broad, but not as much as the dwarf’s. A half dwarf, perhaps?
I approached the table just near the end of his short tale, noticing the half elf's ears twitch at the peculiarly loud “tree lover” ntion, but not deigning to give it any reaction.
“There you are! Sit down. This is my mate, Goromir! Best smith in Pine Harbor! And the only one beside in this town who can actually hold his drink!”
“Happy to et you, Sebastian.”
The blacksmith, sitting to my left, extended his hand, and I shook it – the skin was tough, as if tempered by the flas of the forge itself, and the grip was powerful, almost enough to rival that freakish branch leader.
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“And this one over here has half the story right. Only one beside you who can hold his ale? By my anvil, I will drink you under the table before the night is out!”
“Ha! It’s on, you brazen bastard!”
Both n raised their mugs at the sa ti, emptying their remaining contents within seconds.
Exchanging glances, they stood up, and the dwarf padded on the shoulder.
“We’ll be at the bar for a while.”
“You’ll be under it by night's end.”
“Not before you I won't!”
Before I knew it, both seats to my sides were empty.
While I was still looking in the direction of the dwarf’s forr seat, I caught Bern's gaze, who motioned to sit closer.
“Those two won't be returning to this table. Before the night is up, neither of them will even be able to walk. The smith's wife will co pick him up before midnight, while Bern and I will carry the lifeless boulder back to the hut.”
Xin, who was sitting to Bern’s right, had clearly witnessed the sa situation unfolding before - probably more than once.
“How was your first day in Pine Harbor?”
“It was… quite busy, I guess.”
I thought for a mont, but found no better answer to Bern's question.
“Figures. I'd probably be running around too, if I were you. Finally got that new sheath, I see?”
I silently nodded.
“Old Ben's shop?”
“How did you know?”
“It was either him or the smith, and the smith only first t you just now. Oh, could be that rchant caravan, too, but highly unlikely given their usual goods.”
His reasoning was sound.
“This looks custom made, but it doesn't have the sll… unlikely he’d have ti to make it, too. Probably had it lying around. How much did he sell it for?”
“A tad less than 3 gold.”
“Hmm… a fair price. A custom one would cost twice as much, but your sword’s shape was irregular, so if this sheath was as well, he should count his blessings for getting rid of it.”
Yeah, Intelligence was definitely not his dump Attribute. And clearly, he knew his stuff when it ca to swords.
“Anything interesting apart from that?”
“I also went to the Adventurer’s Guild. Had to demonstrate my techniques to Harold. He told a lot about Paths. Felt like he could talk all night if I didn't rush here, to be honest.”
“Hmm… Say, in your application where did you write you were from?”
“... Gloom Swamps. I an, I really did grow up on the outskirts. He even asked so questions to verify.”
“I see…”
Bern's face was deep in contemplation, but before he could say a thing, I heard a familiar voice from sowhere behind the bar (likely the kitchen).
“Dinner’s ready! Tonight's on the house!”
Martha, the inn keeper's wife, ca out with a bunch of bowls and tableware, quickly arranging it on the tables before going back to the kitchen.
“You don't wanna miss this one. Those specials usually cost 1 gold per bowl. With everyone here, that's almost a third of yesterday's reward. They are really going all out with this one.”
Xin seed to know what was in store for us.
A mont later, Martha ca out of the kitchen again, this ti driving a sturdy wooden trolley – one much like you'd expect to see in so hotels or restaurants on Earth.
On the lower shelves rested many plates, each carrying a large piece of what looked and slled like smoked at of so kind, and two thick slices of bread.
On top of the trolley was a big cauldron, sealed tightly enough to prevent even the faintest sll from escaping.
She first made her way to our table, looking at Bern with a big smile.
Without saying a word, she quickly served the at plates to our table, and finally unsealed the cauldron.
The sll that hit my nostrils imdiately made my mouth fill with saliva.
It was a rich mushroomy aroma, mixed with so indescribable fragrance that was sohow sweet and bitter at the sa ti, yet that complinted the mushrooms perfectly.
The soup itself was thick, filled with mushrooms and herbs, and the color of its broth was a vibrant shade of teal. Looking closely, I could swear the teal liquid was faintly shimring in the dining room’s dim light.
“Enjoy the al!”
Flashing the three of us one final, proud smile, Martha went to serve the rest of our table, then the rest of the room.
Almost instinctively, I dipped the bread into the soup, and took a bite, followed closely by a small piece of the greasy, soft at.
The taste could only be described as heavenly - the at fibers, with small layers of fat in between, were lting in my mouth, perfectly mixing with the bread. But the hidden star was the aftertaste left by the soup dip.
I picked up the large wooden spoon, and put a spoonful of the blue mushroom soup into my mouth.
The experience could hardly be described with words - the mix of juicy, almost sweet mushrooms, creating a stark but matching contrast with the slightly bitter herbs, all tied together by the incredible blue broth.
Before I knew it, the bowl was suddenly empty, with a lone dark-green herb stranded at its very bottom, and the plate contained nothing but a few breadcrumbs and grease stains.
I couldn't help but exhale with satisfaction.
“Worth its price, isn't it?”
Bern had just finished his bowl as well.
“I heard… gulp… this shining teal color cos from arcane moss.”
Xin had just swallowed his last spoonful of soup, too.
“Arcane moss?”
“It’s a type of moss that has latent arcane properties. I think I saw a bit in that tunnel you ca from. It’s mostly used for low-tier arcane recovery potions. However, every living being has at least a bit of latent arcane power in it, so it has general refreshing properties. I heard it can be used as a secondary supplent in certain vitality recovery potions, too. Anyway, this soup probably doesn’t refine it to that extent, but whatever they did, it was definitely not cheap.”
The half elf felt more energetic than before. Actually, I felt the faint traces of my accumulating fatigue being washed away as well.
“You sure know a lot about herbs."
I couldn't help but comnt. Even with my limited understanding of this world, this level of knowledge felt far above the average person.
“Well… truth be told, I wanted to be an alchemist once. Could probably make one, eventually. Maybe I will one day.”
The half elf's tone shifted to one of reminiscence, his eyes looking sowhere far beyond this room – be it the unchangeable past, or the uncertain future, I did not know. And I knew better than to ask.
“Let's go get so fresh air.”
Suddenly, Bern spoke, motioning to follow him.
An uneasy feeling, one which had just been washed away by the soup, crept into my stomach again.
Getting up, I threw one last glance at the warm room, filled with satisfied faces, drunken laugh, and friendly chatter, and made my way outside, following the tall swordsman.
“Sebastian… you should report to the sheriff tomorrow.”
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