“Almost there, little rascal. Keep pushing,” Korhal told, and I hastened a little bit.

“This time for real,” I thought. It was the third time I heard such words for the last three hours. No, thousandth time for three turns would be more correct. Three turns of running, meals six times a day and sleep, that’s all I’ve been doing the whole season. I slept and ate as much as I could, but lost some weight and felt always tired anyway. According to Korhal, today we’re going to reach our destination. To give him some credit, he kept supplementing me with stories each day before nighttime. Being honest, I would have gone nuts without them.

“What would Denver the Blunt do? He would run to the end, of course. And what about Al Qard the Bloody? He could make it too, no doubt about that. And Paron the Smart? No…that one would laugh at anyone who tries. Bad example.” Such were my thoughts during the day.

Some of stories he told were a longer and more detailed variant of those I read in my books, but most were either new or authentic. Surprisingly, Korhal happened to be the best storyteller ever. “Being old is not all cons,” he says.

“Almost there. Keep going,” his voice could come right after another stone was flung at me from behind the bush, from above or behind me. And so I did. For another hour. For another day. One could say jungles are everywhere the same, but I learned that’s not truth. Sceneries kept changing with time and now jungles were about to come to an end. I already could feel salt in the air. Smell of the ocean encouraged me, hardened my will, gave me power to run for another hour.

“ Almost there. Keep going,” another stone, another replica. I cassualy made a sidestep and continued running. It’s funny how you stop doubting the voice that leads you, when you’re exhausted and ready to drop dead. You know that such encouragement should be truth once.

“This time for real,” you think. Just like that, I pressed until the forest came to an end, and practically fell into Korhal’s arms, who waited for me right behind the last tree.

“Good job, kid. You can rest now,” he told. Seems like he wanted to say more, but decided against that. Instead he passed me water and sat me on his shoulder to let me see the scenery.

“Quiet the view, huh?” He asked.

“…hah….hah...” I still couldn’t enjoy it, busy catching up with my breath and removing sweat from my forehead. It got to my eyes and they hurt a bit.

“What day is it today, Akillah?” I finally separated my face from the sleeve and couldn’t help but gasp in amazement, so beautiful the ocean was. By living in the jungles you get used to tightness. You’re always surrounded by something from all sides, be it grass, leaves, or trees. Seeing the blue vastness, having so much space to breath all of a sudden, made me feel good and refreshed.

“You can put me down now, I’m fine. As for the day, I don’t know, neither do I care. Is it important?” I got to the ground and poured the rest of the water on my head. “I need a shower. A real one.”

“It’s your birthday, stupid. Ain’t that important? You’ll get your shower soon enough.”

“Oh! So it’s that time of the year? I’m five now?”

“Why are you asking me? Come now, we have much to do,” he started to move in the direction of the small town little bit further down the coast.

“What’s up with the town? The architecture is strange.” You needn’t to be a genius to figure that houses stood not on the trees, but on the ground.

“This port was actually built by humans, to keep an embassy. You won’t find a lot of humans here, though. Elves and dwarves, who also built an embassy of their own, use this port for trade nowadays. Ships are coming to restock and trade furs and leather armor for weapons. We, beastmen, are self dependant in most ways, but elven bows and dwarven swords are still much needed. My own sword is dwarven,” he put his hand on the hilt and rubbed it lovingly. “Twenty years of nonstop use and it’s still as sharp as new. I broke tenths of swords before buying this one. It costed quite a sum but not a coin was wasted.”

“I’ll get to see dwarves and elves?”

“Yeah. Also, keep your eyes open for something you might like. We should buy you a present.”

“Ok.” We didn't talk much the rest of the way. I dragged my feet while enjoying fresh salty air and noise of waves.

As we came closer, the town reminded me of western movies I saw a long time ago. Two streets. One crossroad. Wooden two story buildings on the both sides of the road. Serious looking men entering the tavern. Everything was so familiar, except that men wore no poncho. The folks here were so different from what I used to, that I ended up staring at them like a kid. Well, I am a kid, right? What made me surprised is that no one stared back the same way any beastmen would. I could get used to that. A dwarf catched my eye and winked at me. I automatically looked at where ears were supposed to be, to get a glimpse on his emotions, but understood the stupidity of such action right away. I looked at his eyes instead, as the rest of the face was covered with thick beard. His eyes were smiling.

Near the entrance to the inn lanky longhaired men with pointy ears chatted with a small but tendinous grandpa. “Look at you, Brasco, such an old fart you have become! At this point we won’t ever go to the dungeon again. A long way just to fetch you went for nothing. Where would I find another man?!”

“Shut up, idiot! You went missing for twenty years! Is that what you call a short vacat…” Was all I could hear while passing them. A short red haired lady with braids, freckles and a childish face met us at the counter.

“Two rooms for one day. Two baths right away. No food.” Korhal told firmly. “This young lady has a birthday today, so a discount is preferable.”

“Is that so? Two silver coins should be enough, then. Free baths for you and young lady.” she told after looking at me with a raised eyebrow. With me, drenched in sweat head to toe, and Korhal, who’s an antipode to representativeness, I bet we both looked miserable. The lady gave us keys anyway. Had to stand on her toes to pass them from behind the counter.

“Was she a dwarf?” I always wanted to see, how dwarven female look like.

“Uhuh. I know what you think. She doesn’t have beard, right?”

“Yeah, I kind of…..ah nevermind.”

Two hours later we met at the counter and went out, fresh and clean, but hungry as hell. I never though I could lack words to describe a simple barrel, filled with hot water. Neither did I think it could become a source of such pure joy.

“How’s the mood? You look happy.”

“Yeah. I think it’s the first time I don’t feel fatigue for months. Where are we going?”

“To the tavern. We need to eat and catch up with news. Something ain't right here. ”

“Ain't right? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The town is too calm. We’ll see.”

“To the tavern then!” My mood was really good. I still couldn’t drink alcohol, which was a shame, but a glass of milk was just as appealing. I’m done drinking water and kamela juice.

As we neared the tavern I sped up and opened the door with a bang. Feeling up to the prank, I went in and sat down, putting my legs on the table, right in the centre of the room. Only then did I realize, that it was unusually quiet. You could suspect any tavern in the world to be rowdy, but the atmosphere here was rather gloomy.

“Hey, folks,” I said loud and clear. “ What’s up with the mood?” My voice was high pitched, but soft growling gave it a confident notes. No one answered me, even when Korhal sat across the table. For some reason anyone chatted in whispers, or just stared at his or her mug. An idea came to my mind and I turned to Korhal.“You still want to pay for my present?”

“Yes. Anything you want, Akillah. It’s your day.”

“Good, if the day is mine, then let’s correct the atmosphere.” I climbed the table and stood there until whispers disappeared. “Hello, ladys and gentlemen, name’s Akillah,” I gave a short bow to all four sides and heard few polite applauds. “Today is my birthday, you see? By my will and with financial support of my honorable teacher, master Korhal,” I pointed at him with my open palm, “free drinks should be served to all of you.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Oh no…,” was all I could hear from Korhal before the room exploded with roars and laugher. His rounded eyes made me unsure if what I did was right, but all doubts alleviated in a second as few dwarves dragged their whole table closer to ours.

“AHAHA, you’re al’right, kid. AHAHA, did you see her, Serth?” he roared to the dwarf next to him, “So small, but throws a party in the tavern already. Quiet a student you have here, sir. I’m Gregor. Let me fetch a drink for you!” Few more dwarves appeared around us, then few elves. People kept coming one after another. Strangely, any dwarf that introduced himself, returned soon with a glass filled with both sweet and bitter liquid. Soon our whole table was filled with tiny mugs. Two dozens of them.

“But I want milk! Why are they bringing this stuff? It ain’t bad, but I have plenty already.”

“It’s an old dwarven tradition, Akillah,” Korhal told. “If you invite a dwarf to the party, he shall bring you a drink. Refusing to drink it considered to be rude. You better be thankful they have enough sense to bring small cups.”

“I need to drink all of this??! It’s not alcohol, right?”

“No, it’s not. Well, not for an adult. The amount of alcohol in this liquid is somewhere between 0.1 and 0.01 depending on its age.”

“But…that’s still…with this much….,” I didn’t even know what to say. Is it a good or a bad turn?

“AHAHA, don’t worry ‘killah,” Gregor, Serth and an elf, whose name was something like Arzwald…or Sharzwald, reappeared with two more cups. “Yeh should be fine. Ours were the last, so we should take responsibility and make sure yeh drink ’em all.” I looked at Korhal waiting for explanation, and his short “another tradition” scared shit out of me.

“So, ” with a sigh I emptied the first cup and took another, “what’s up with the mood. People seemed …hm…stressed?”

“Ah, bad news came one after another. It has been like this for two whole days before you came.”

“What kind of news?”

“Well, The Emperor Gustav Falcon is dead. A ship arrived two days ago and brought news. Judging by the model of the hull, it should have taken three months to reach our shores.”

“And why is his death bad for us? There should be a successor, right?”

“No. And that’s the main problem. The Empire is a mess right now and no one knows who’s going to take an upper hand. The Empire supposed to be a powerhouse with no ambition. Anyone was happy as long as it shown no aggression. But what happens if the throne falls in wrong hands? Empire is like a legendary sword, lying on the side of the road.

“Sounds bad enough.”

“Yeh. We don’t share any borders, but that might not be for long,” he stopped and emptied his mug in one go.

“What else?” I drank my own and took the third.

“Let Schwarzwald talk, he’s from those parts of the woods, so…” Gregor stood up and went to the bar to get another mug.

“You seem awfully mature for your age, little missy,” the elf has spoken timidly. He held a mug with the same strange liquid, but was yet to make a sip. “I’m not sure if it’s ok to say such awful things to her, sir” he looked questionably at Korhal.

“Go ahead. She might look like a girl but there’s quite a beast inside that child. She took her first trophy already.”

“I noticed her legs to be sturdy. Figured she trains like a madman, but a trophy,” he threw a glance at my scar. “You don’t mean-”

“Yeah. A slaver. Three months ago.” Korhal interrupted. “I’ll go fetch some meat. Want me to bring you a snack, Akillah?”

“No way.” The elf stared at me with round eyes, then emptied half of his mug.

“No, master, I don’t think I have any space to spare.” The amount of cups didn’t decrease one bit. It’ll take me hours to empty them as it is. “So, what bad news did you bring, Schwazward?”

“The orcs are attacking northern forests. Large forces managed to cross the mountains.”

“But mountains supposed to be too cold to travel. How large?”

“Hundreds.”

“Can’t you deal with a couple of hundreds?”

“Yes we can, but that’s not the main problem. Orcs supposed to come in tenths at a time, and even then casualties were frequent. Orcs think the best way to kill is to cut a man in half. Vertically, I mean. I came here to find some brave trackers to find out where are they coming from. Reports say there are fireplaces at their campsites. Finding them being capable to produce fire is bad news by itself, but if they learned to keep it burning in the mountains…. then let the spirits guide us. With fire, or without it, they won’t be able to cross a Void Line, so our forests are the most probable targets,” his tone changed from timid to confident, or even loud. After taking another gulp, he continued. “Orcs are cold resistant as they are. Hell, even arrows don’t pierce them too deep. I fought one of them once, emptied the whole quiver before the thing fell. It took twenty two shots like nothing, so I had to shoot last two through his eyes from close range. Took quiet the risk.” He drank again. ”Ahah, I like this funny liquid, ain’t you happy lil fella?” he blubbered, then added few phrases in elvish language I didn’t understand. “Gregor. GREGOR! Find me one more mug!” He tried to stand up but fell on his butt and spilled the last few gulps on the floor. In an instant, Serth was there for him.

“Is he allright, Serth?”

“Poor elves are weak with alcohol, but our friend here is especially so. Me and Gregor vowed to teach him how to drink and been friends since then,” he catched my surprised look and added, “You should have seen him ten years ago. He got drunk once by eating an akebian fruit. Tried to enter a fencing contest stark naked and with arrows in his hands.”

“Seems like a funny story. Are there more?”

“Yeah, but….another time, little miss. We’re leaving tomorrow. Me, Gregor, Schwazwald and two beastmen. I better bring him to the inn, so that we all could take a good rest.”

“Where are you going? To the northern woods?”

“Yes. Can’t wait to try my axe on those orcish necks. Or legs. Those things are quiet high. GREGOR! We are leaving! Until next time, Akillah. Let us cross our mugs when you’re an adult.” He picked up an elf effortlessly and dragged him out in a princess care style.

“That’s why you don’t ever use words “free drinks” in a tavern filled with dwarves.” Korhal returned with a tasty smelling meatballs. “Half of present men will end up like that elf today. Another half will drag the first to the inn. And for forefathers sake, don’t agree to move to another tavern when they’ll suggest. Unless you want another twenty four cups on your table.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I put down my fifth glass. “ But next time let me know sooner”

"Long life to ma friend, 'killah. Bottoms up!" Gregor shouted somewhere wholeheartedly.

I made a lot of friends that day, some of which were bound to play a huge role in my life. Three hours, nineteen cups, and three broken tables later, I and Korhal finally managed to leave the tavern.

"The history of stories" by Emerald Goodvin. Published in 9689.

Chapter 63 "Crosscultural tales"

Page 436

As I told before, beastmen folklore is one of the richest and by far the most contradictory of all. Let's take as example a legend of a small girl, that travels the lands on foot, throws parties here and there, and is capable of outdrinking a grown man. “ Killah the Elf Killer” they call her. Strangely, the same tale could be found in elven and dwarven folklore on both, northern and southern sides of the continent, which makes the existence of such person even less believable. Elves say the girl is a slaver huntress, dwarves think she might be actually a dwarf with fake ears, but no evidence of her existence are clear, since anyone who claims having seen her, was dead drunk by the end of the evening and couldn't remember neither her face, nor her actual name.