~Thorben~

As they approached the gate, they noticed most of the traffic was leaving the town; it looked like the farmers and various other vendors from the market that had sold out were making their way home. People passing by, or just living their normal everyday life, gave them side looks, but overall, people ignored them. A tall wall surrounded the city. Lumber from the nearby forest constructed it, but it was substantial. Thorben was confident that it was scalable, but with the guard towers, it was unlikely many would succeed without being seen.

When they got closer, the guards questioned everyone entering before being allowed to enter. They had denied no one entrance yet, so Thorben was optimistic. “Hail travelers, state your business in Andovale.”

“Greetings, sir?” Thorben responded.

“Wilson. Wilson Hall. No ‘sir’ needed. I’m just a guard, not a knight. Though few of those left around anymore, either.” The last sentence was a whisper he did not mean for the boys to hear.

“Greetings Mr. Wall. We are just arriving after traveling from Ingwood in Ossirus and are seeking lodging.” Thorben said.

Tanrin tried to hide a snicker, but failed miserably.

“No need to hide it, young one. I am a guard with the last name wall,” Wilson said with a smile. “I’ve heard them all. You develop a sense of humor about it or you turn into an ill-tempered jerk. I chose the former.”

“Sorry Mr. Wall, I must be more tired than I realized. Usually, I conduct myself with more manners.” Said Tanrin.

“No apologies needed, and please call me Wilson.” Wilson said. “As far as lodging goes, we have a couple of inns, but I heard they were booked up. You passing through?”

“A friend of ours said we should look up Harold Scully and was adamant he would provide us a room.” Thorben said.

“Ahh old Harold. You’ll be seeking The Bouncing Melons Inn.” Wilson deadpanned.

This time, neither of them could contain their laughter. A smile slowly spread across Wilson’s face as he said, “A real classy place but fair priced and the food is delicious. At least, that’s what I tell the wife. Head through the gate, continue straight through the market square, and you’ll reach the inns. Harold’s is the one on the left, with a… well-endowed sign.”

“Wilson, it was a pleasure to meet you. If you find yourself at The Bouncing Melons, the first round is on me.” Thorben said with a smile. “See you around.”

Wilson’s directions were spot on, and in no time they entered a two-story, well-maintained structure with a very generous sign hanging above the door. The ambiance was a cozy. I spread out people at various tables and along the bar. Games of cards and dice could be seen, and the laughter was infectious. They made their way through to the bar and found two seats.

“We didn’t get an ale in Ingwood, brother. Let me make it up to you. First, round is on me.” Thorben said with a smirk. Tanrin couldn’t hide the eager look in his eyes, which only made Thorben laugh and clap him on the shoulder. “Barkeep, two ales, kindly.”

The barkeep was an older man with a scar running down his right eye, and a mid-length gray beard. He looked as fit as any farm hand. “Dark or light, youngsters?”

“Whichever you recommend. A smart man trusts the barkeep.” Tanrin said.

“Smart, I recommend the dark. If you’d wanted water you’d have said so.” the barkeep said, a slight smile playing on his lips. He poured two large tankards and placed them on the bar. “That’ll be a silver coin.”

Thorben reached out his hand and shook the barkeep’s hand. He mentally transferred a silver and two coppers. “Thank you, sir. I hear the food is delicious. What do you have?”

The barkeep burst into laughter, doubled over, and began clutching his stomach. “Boys, the food here is better than driftwood, but falls far short of a royal feast. Don’t tell my wife, she’s the cook. Today, though, you are lucky. We’ve got a thurti and vegetable stew, and bread made fresh this morning. It’s four copper a piece.”

“We’ll take two servings.” Thorben shook the barkeep’s hand again.

“Will be right back with that.” The barkeep said as he slipped into the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back carrying two bowls of piping hot stew and a loaf of bread, and placed them in front of them. “So now that we have ya settled, what brings you to Andovale?”

Thorben contemplated what to say, but decided the truth was best. “We ran into some difficulties in Ingwood, and a friend suggested we move to Andovale. Know where we can find a Harold Scully?”

The barkeep’s demeanor changed immediately. Gone was the good natured barkeep. He looked at Thorben with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Depends on who be asking,” the barkeep stated in a low, menacing voice.

Thorben instantly recognized that he needed to be careful. He raised a spoonful of soup to his mouth, gently blew, and tasted it. “This is delicious! Please give our compliments to your wife. Our friend Ted Foster told us we should seek this inn out. We wanted to pay our respects to his friend, Mr. Scully.”

The barkeep eyed Thorben and Tanrin carefully, then his demeanor relaxed as the good natured barkeep returned. “How do you know Ted?”

“You could say that we spent some time together and now Ted feels he owes a debt. He said to tell Mr. Scully that he owes him and that this would make them even.” Thorben said. Tanrin was not oblivious to the exchange and had his left hand resting on his belt knife.

Hearing this, the barkeep relaxed. “Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Harold Scully. No one but Ted knew about our debt, and no one will, but any friend of Ted’s is a friend of mine. Please call me Harold.” Harold extended his hand.

Tanrin eased his hand off the hilt of his dagger. Thorben and Tanrin both shook hands with Harold. With this handshake, the tension faded away into a friendly atmosphere.

“What can I do for you?” Harold asked.

“Honestly, we’ve been on the move constantly, and need a night’s rest. Do you have any rooms available?” Thorben asked.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I always keep one for an emergency. As long as you are alright sharing, I got one for as long as you need. No charge. Finish up your meal, and I’ll show you to it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me. No matter what Ted says, this won’t cover it. Knowing I helped a friend of his is a start, though. Wave me over when you’re ready.” With that, Harold made his way to the customers at the other end of the bar.

Thorben turned to Tanrin, who was looking at him incredulously. “Delicious? This stew tastes like the afterbirth of a mountain goat.” He whispered.

“I couldn’t very well insult the only person who would help us, now could I?” Thorben said.

“Delicious? Couldn’t you have gone with ‘somewhat edible’ or ‘able to sustain life’?” Tanrin said, “Even that is stretching the truth.”

“Shut up and be thankful I did the talking. Finish your stew and I’ll order us another ale.”

Tanrin dropped his spoon, drained the bowl of soup, and held out his hand. “Barkeep!” He yelled as his bowl hit the counter. Thorben rolled his eyes.

As the morning sun crept up in the sky, the light gently woke Thorben, who felt surprisingly refreshed despite the previous night’s ale intake. The same couldn’t be said for Tanrin. “Close the curtain!”

“There is no curtain. No one forced you to finish all those ales last night. Let’s go break fast. The meal will do you good.” Thorben advised.

Tanrin rushed for the chamber pot and emptied his stomach of last night’s ale. “Don’t mention food. I think I’ll stay here a bit to recover.” He said as he fell back into the bed and pulled the blanket over his head.

Thorben shook his head but knew better than to argue, so he headed downstairs and sat at a table.

“Good morning, young sir.” Harold greeted him. “Would you be wanting some breakfast?”

“Yes please, what do you have?” Thorben asked.

“Whatever the wife makes,” Harold chuckled. “You’ll find our menu rather simple around here. I run the bar, and my wife runs the food. She makes one thing for each meal. If you like it you eat it, if you don’t you don’t. Though you are in luck this morning, she made honeyed oats with fresh fruit. I’d recommend it.”

“Sounds great. I’ll take one. Have any caife by chance?” Thorben asked hopefully.

“Sure do. It’s one thing I discovered as a sailor that I wasn’t able to give up. I’ll be right back.” Harold went back into the kitchen.

As he sat and waited, he replayed everything they had learned since leavening Steelmond.

I am seeing things, words overlay on my vision. In times of high stress or danger, I have shown abilities of unknown origin. Magic? Is there anything dangerous about this? An organization of assassins was asking about “the boy.” Me? Tanrin? Or just some unlucky coincidence? Tanrin and I both agree our priorities are to figure out what’s happening to me, and learn what we can about the Order of Buanaì. I wonder if there is a healer in town who might have insight into the mystical arts?

Harold placed a bowl of honeyed oats and a steaming mug of caife on the table in front of him, and asked, “will your brother be joining us this morning?”

“Not for a bit,” Thorben laughed.

“Caught a case of the ale flu, did he?” Harold said with a deep, hearty laugh.

“He sure made a go of it last night,” said Thorben, “You want to join me for a mug of caife, on me?” Thorben glanced around. “It doesn’t seem too busy in here yet,” he observed.

“I can always go for another mug of caife. Let me grab one. I’ll be right back. No charge for this morning’s meal. Call it a pity meal for you, having to put up with your brother’s mood later.”

Before leaving Steelmond, his parents had told them that innkeepers were excellent sources of information. They stressed it was always a smart idea to make friends with them if possible, while maintaining a healthy mistrust. If a person played it right, they could both gather information and control the narrative they spread about themselves.

Harold sat down across the table and sipped his caife. “So, young man, what’s on your mind? Most people who want to talk with me are looking for information or telling me their life story. The latter usually happens after a few ales in the evening. The former is my bet.”

“Being new to the area, we need advice on where to seek some information, and we would appreciate discretion.” Thorben said as he sipped from his mug, the steam warming his face.

“An innkeeper’s discretion can usually be bought in either direction, lad. For you, because of Ted, I’ll do all I can for ya and never tell a soul. You have my word on that.” Thorben saw something in his eyes that seemed to verify the man’s trustworthiness, and after a moment, he trusted his instincts.

“We have two areas we are focusing on,” Thorben said, leaning in, he waited until Harold had done the same. He lowered his voice and continued, “mystical arts and a group called the Order of Buanaì.” Harold’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Order, and he set his mug down, a slight tremble noticeable. “Ted told us a story, after we had a bit of a run in with them.” Thorben confided.

“I’ll be honest with you. Ted knows just as much as me, so I won’t be much help with the Order. I know someone who might be helpful, and I’ll tell you where to find him. As far as the mystical arts go, you could try talking to the local apothecary, but your best bet is to ask around in Eleytol.” Harold said.

“We won’t turn away any lead or information you will provide. Thank you.” Thorben said.

“I’ll write everything you need to go, as soon as your brother breaks fast,” Harold said, glancing over at the stairs. Thorben turned his head and saw Tanrin slowly making his way to the table with his head down. Harold stood up. “Be right back with one more order of the same. Maybe I will make it two caife’s, it looks like he might need it,” he added with a chuckle.

Tanrin plopped down into the chair, put his elbows on the table, and held his head. “Whose idea was it to drink so much last night? And why’d you let them convince me?” He complained.

Thorben held sipped from his mug to hide his smile, then in a louder than necessary voice said, “Good morning, brother! A fine day it is, full of good cheer and excellent company!”

Tanrin covered his ears and glared at Thorben. “No need to yell. I’m not deaf. Kindly stop the needless torture.”

Thorben continued loudly, “What? Another ale? Let me get that for you. Barkeep!”

Tanrin cringed. “Don’t be an ass. I promise, I’ll never drink again, as long as I live. Just stop yelling.”

Thorben debated continuing torturing Tanrin, but decided he had given his brother enough grief for the moment. Unfortunately for Tanrin, Harold returned putting his meal and caife in front of him. In a booming voice he said, “Good show last night lad! Few people dare go tankard for tankard with Harrison. Being the town drunk dissuades others from trying.” He laughed as he clapped Tanrin on the shoulder. “He’ll be up for a rematch tonight. Get yourself ready,” he said, winking at Thorben.

Tanrin just groaned.

“Apparently, my brother has just sworn off drinking for good,” Thorben told Harold with a mischievous grin.

“Well, that’s too bad. I have one of my seasonal brews that should be ready to sample here in the next few days,” Harold commented. “It’s extremely popular here in town and is sure to sell out fast, but I’ll respect your vow and not mention it again.” Thorben hid his grin at the Innkeeper’s mock solemnity behind his caife mug.

Tanrin’s ears somehow visibly perked up at the phrase ‘seasonal brew.’ “Well, maybe not for good,” clarified Tanrin, “but at least for today.”

Harold chuckled as he walked back to the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he said, “Maybe you should give challenging Harrison a try, Thorben?”

* Quest Available! Intoxication Investigation: Challenge Harrison to a drinking contest and win. Rewards: Experience and Renown. Will you accept this quest?

Thorben froze mid chuckle as the beginnings of a headache crept behind his eyes. These words hovered in front of his face. He moved his head up and down, turned his eyes left and right, but the words stayed right in front of wherever his vision went. Thorben almost asked his brother if he saw it, but held back. He had no desire to wake up in a condition like Tanrin was right now. Without giving it much thought, he said, “no.” The words disappeared, but the slight headache lingered.

“I’ll get that information written down in a moment and bring it out to you,” Harold finished, as if the last few seconds hadn’t happened.

“No, what? What information? And why do I have two mugs of caife?” Tanrin asked.

“I’ll tell you later. We’ve got a lead, and just drink them.” Thorben said in a softer voice. “I’ll catch you up as you eat.”