First time I saw him, I wasn't sure what I thought. He just walked in, hood down so far it covered his eyes, and just sat at the barstool closest to the door. I was chatting with Bill from the shop, so he had to wait a bit till I took his order.
"So what'd you like to drink?" I ask. He shrugs.
"Want me to recommend you something?" He nods slowly. I don't mean to be judgy, but a guy who refuses to talk is just shifty-looking as all hell, I'm sorry.
"Well, personally I prefer a fruity honey wine from down near Nastrovil when I just want something sweet - though it's top-shelf stuff. As for days where I just want a good ol' burn, I'd go with blackgut, since it's a well-drink that burns. Shite burns tough though, so I've used it to sterilize a wound or two. So which do you want now?" I smiled, waiting for him to properly answer.
He holds up a single finger.
"Honey wine it is," I sigh. Whatever, if he doesn't pay I'll make him regret it. I prepare his drink and move over to the next guy.
While he drank his honey wine, I started tending to some other customers. Bill waves me over.
"Hey-Burp-Bartender Bob! Can I gettanotha ro-***Hic-***rotten grimsby?" He giggles, slumping over, alternating between giggles and saying 'bartender bob' until falling back into giggles.
"Sorry Bill. Your drunk buddy. You gotta get home fer tonight."
"Nooo... I'm fiiinn-hic" He moves to stand up, only to fall back, into some newcomer wearing an expensive jacket.
"Hey! Watch it, you shithead drunk!" The man says as he backs into Syr, knocking her pitcher out of her hands, spilling ale all over his jacket. Syr immediately starts apologizing,
"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry sir I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up you bitch!" The man snarls. "This jacket cost me 7 platinum! You better give me a damn good reason not to teach your sorry ass a lesson!" The man looms over Syr threateningly. This asshole is a noble of some sort, for sure, otherwise, he wouldn't be so cocky. I start working my way around the bar. People are starting to get angry. Cocky as this guy is, he can't survive a bar full of angry drunks, and I don't want to have another bar fight.
Before I can get to the man, that stranger gets up and walks over, tapping the man's soaked shoulder.
"The hell do you want?" He snarls. The stranger reaches into his cloak and withdraws 7 platinum coins, handing them to the man. As the man's looking at the coins in confusion, he hands him a small piece of paper.
"Wait... you, really...but I... look... I... really!?" The noble responds, confused, shocked, and angry. The stranger just nods. Visibly upset, the noble turns, and hands Syr the coins, apologizes, and promptly leaves. The stranger watches him leave, and then returns to the bar, his drink finished, the surreptitious stares of the bars patrons on him, alongside Syr's confused stream of thank-yous that he ignores.
"5 silvers. Though our till's a bit low on gold pieces, so if you prefer paying in that, it would be convenien-" I stop as he reaches into his cloak into a coin purse and slides a platinum peice across the table to me. How rich is this guy? Nobody just has a coin purse full of platinums - unless their counterfeits. Hes shifty as all hell too. I pick up the coin, putting it in the register scanner.
A low humming noise let's me know it might be time to get another enchanted crystal, with the light on the display getting weaker by the day. I'll have to let Syr know we need a restock. After a moment, the register turns green.
"Alright, you can go, just give me a sec to get your change," I say as I take my eyes off the register. He's already walking out, and before I can call out, he's gone.
A week later, and he comes back again. Exact same cloak, boots, all the works. Striding over, he takes the exact same spot, right next to the exit.
"So what do you want this time?" He taps the table, looking at the assortment of bottles on the shelf.
"Oh, and before you decide, we gotta a lil' drinking contest in the works. Drink a cup of blackgut, and keep goin'till you pass out. Careful though, you might start talking, Robin Hood," I chuckled. He moved a bit when he heard that name. Closest thing to a reaction I've gotten so far.
"So, you wanna join in the fun? Not like you have to or anything..." He nods.
"Oh? I didn't expect you to join in. Well, guess you're in. Alright, rules are simple. Entry fees 5 silvers, but I'll just put it on yer tab, considerin you left here with 9 gold and 5 silvers worth of change to yer bill. That good?" He nods.
"Okay! Here we go." Walking ahead of him, I guide him to the large table in the corner, where Jackson is supervising the contest, as one of the more trustworthy bouncers of mine.
"Hey Jackson! We got a new contender. Tell him the rules and such. How'd the last game go by the way?"
"Pretty good runs. Bill tanked out at 2, but nearly got to three this time. Lindsey got to a hefty 3 before goin out to puke, and Syr nearly finished a couple of sips. Geoffry's record still stands, obviously." The stranger perks up at the mention of Geoffrey. Jackson laughs.
"Alright, I'll be back at the bar, but you make him comfy Jackson. Oh and..." I lean towards Jackson. "... the guys a bit shifty. Remember the guy who basically gave Syr 7 plats last week? That's him." Jackson nods, and I move back to the bar.
Todays a slow day, all things considered, so I get a pretty decent view of what's going on between Jackson and the stranger in between orders. Jackson says something, and then the stranger turns towards him and lifts his hood a bit. Jackson laughs and smacks the stranger on the back hard.
Ouch..? I heard the clap from here. Christ, what is going on? Someone calls me over, so I miss some of it. By the time I'm done mixing the drink, the competitions started. Most of the pub is still drinking, but some people have moved over to watch the first round. The stranger gets by, sipping the drink slowly, as they hand out the cups.
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By the end of the first round, quite a few newcomers have already dropped out. Before the round starts, more people gather, and everyone starts chanting; "Syr-Shot, Syr-Shot, Syr-Shot!"
Syr nervously makes her way up to the front, and Jackson fills up a tiny cup. The chanting stops, and Syr slowly drinks her cup. It's about a swigs worth, but Syr can't chug for the life of her. Slowly though, with everyone's eyes on her, Syr manages to get it down halfway. Then another quarter. Her knees are already shaking, and she can barely hold the cup steady.
The tavern stares with bated breath as Syr brings it down to the very edge. Just a tiny bit more, and she'll be done, but she can't even hold the cup steady at this point. She seems ready to give up and put the cup down but spots the stranger sitting in a chair, watching. I can't see his face at this angle, but from the way his hood moved, he must've mouthed something, since Syr instead brings the cup to her mouth and finishes it.
By splashing herself in the face. The pub erupts into cheers and laughter. Luckily, her eyes were closed, but otherwise, she would have been yelling obscenities, which never sounded right coming from her. Jackson brings her offstage to me, and I bring over to the back, so she can take a breather and drink some coffee. While I dampen a cloth and help her sit up, I hear Jackson's voice through the wall.
"Alright, everyone! Congratulations to Syr, and let's start this month's drink-off!" Jackson announces. An even louder set of deafening cheers erupt.
"So for the second round, we want you to chug. First rounds to ween out the babies, and second rounds to see who can chug the fastest. Slowest - Two! Have to leave, since we have a few too many slow drinkers.
I hurry back to the stage, intent on seeing the contest. This is a golden opportunity to finally get a look at the stranger. After all, who can be cautious after a pint of blackgut, much less two.
Opening the back pub doors, I see that there's still 5 people seated at the table.
"Alright! Now we're moving onto the third round! The gauntlet! Who can drink a full bottle first while standing!?" Cheers erupt from the crowd, and I can hear the sounds of the betting growing more intense. Somehow, the strangers still seated as well.
Of the five people left, the stranger was one receiving the least amount of bets. Most people were picking between Randell and Lindsey, the strong-armed farmstead owners about a day on horseback on the roads. Usually, they rode through the countryside, evident from the scars and cuts from branches on their arms.And so, the third round started. Everyone grabbed their bottle and started chugging the moment Jackson flipped the hourglass, with the stranger lagging behind. by the end, only 3 remained. Randell, Lindsey, and the stranger, all remained on stage, all looking pretty wasted. Randell was standing wide, Lindsey was leaning on the wall with a stupid grin, and the stranger was shifting from foot to foot.
"Look at that! We have 3 people going into the final rou-" Lindsey slips, landing on the floor, passed out. I sigh, and bring her over to the back with Syr, whose woken up by now, and is drinking a bit of coffee.
"How'd you feel, Syr?" I ask as I splash Lindsey with cold water.
"Like a horse kicked my head open... Why do people drink this so much? It's so weird...hic..." She glumly says, her face red. Lindsey sputters to life, yelling something about Valhalla and cramming a rock up a giants ass before regaining her senses, and leaving.
"Well, congratulations on finally finishing a kiddie cup of blackgut, at least." I laugh. She perks up at that.
"Is the hooded man still here?" She asks, suddenly excited.
"Uhh... yeah?" I answer, unsure as to why she's asking.
"I need to give him his platinum coins back."
"All of them?" I question.
"Most of them. I paid back my debt the day after!" She says with a smile. I smile, but the feeling is bittersweet.
"So you don't need to work at the pub anymore, right? Congrats, Syr!" I say, trying to be happy for her.
"No! I want to work here. This job is enough for me to live off of, and I get to hang out with you guys. I don't need to go off and become some noble's wife. This is enough for me!" She says, earnestly.
"Well, that's great!" I say, off-balance. "So... um... weren't you going to talk to Robin Hood about his coins?" I deflect.
"Robin who... Oh! I almost forgot I gotta go before he leaves!
Back in the pub, I come back to see him struggling against Randell's giant build. The cloak hid his arm for the most part, but looking at him now, he seems to be built like a set of twigs. Eventually, Randall inevitably wins, but the stranger put up a good fight. Randall offers a quarter split on the prize money as good sport, but Charlie waves him off. Randall shrugs and takes his winnings.
As the pub empties out, the stranger leans against the bar, looking at me, and then at Syr. Eventually, he visibly sighs and moves to leave. as he's about to exit, Syr yells for him.
Stopping, he lets her catch up to him at the edge of the pub entrance, while she explains with her head down and the coins above her head. He listens to her hurried explanation silently.
"So, I only have 3 left to give back, but I thought you would at least want the rest back, and I'm sorry about spending them, but I had t-" He picks the coins from her hands, and after a moment, taps her shoulder. Syr looks up to a smiling face, though she can't see the eyes. He drops the coins back into her hand and awkwardly stands still for a moment, looking at her. Syr slowly leans towards him, and slowly brings his head down.
Only for him to awkwardly turn and start to leave.
A moment passes, as Syr watches him leave, a fistful of coins clutched to her chest. Jackson walks out the back room, and noticing Syr standing at the edge of the doorway exclaims.
"Oh not again... Charlie you stupid bastard!" Before taking off after him. Syr watches for a moment before Jackson calls her out.
"Syr! Come one! You've got more reason to chase him down than I do!" Syr stops for a moment, before running after him. I look at the pub and sigh. A few minutes unattended won't be too risky... right?"
Whatever, it's my pub. Sprinting after Syr, I see her running after Jackson, whose got his arms around the stranger, laughing.
"Christ Charlie. Are you really gonna do her dirty like that? For the last time, not every woman you meet is Valina, alright bud?" Jackson finishes gently. The stranger - Charlie tilts his head down, ashamed. Syr finally catches up and stops to catch her breath.
"Look at that Charlie. See? She cares. If it's too much to say anything, then at least give her the letter." Jackson says. Charlie shrugs, feigning confusion. Jackson laughs softly.
"Don't play dumb. You always have one when this happens. I bet you had one the first time you visited. I bet on it." Jackson says.
"What letter?" Syr asks. "For me?"
"Y...Yes" Hands shaking, he hands Syr a simple envelope. She takes it... confused. Jackson let's go of Charlie, and he runs off. I start walking back to the bar, with Jackson and Syr ahead of me.
"Look Syr, I get that this doesn't make a lot of sense... but just know, Charlie, giving you that letter is pretty... crazy, considering how he is." Jackson sighs.
"What do you mean? And how do you know his name?" I ask.
"Well, Charlie and I used to be buds back in the day. We were both in the same field. Mercenaries. We stumbled on to the same assignment. And let me tell you, those first few days, I nearly wanted to kill him. Christ, he barely even acknowledged my existence. He would cook extra rations, and wake me up for guard duty. That was it. Not a word. Feels like forever till he opens up. And that was before Valina and the whole ice court mess... God, I feel horrible about that."
"Ice court?" Syr asks. "You mean in Fjordinheim? What happened?"
"Not my story to tell Syr. Just know, whatever Charlie wrote in that... it's true. He doesn't lie in those letters. He doesn't exaggerate. I... I'm just no good with this emotional stuff. All I'm saying is Charlie's done something pretty far out of his usual stunts."
"Okay." Syr said, conflicted, before turning to leave for home.
I sighed. Today was a wild adventure, and it left me with more questions than answers.