The wooden floorboards creaked from the heavy footsteps of regular patrons. It was easy to ignore them as pints of beer were downed time and time again by all within earshot, whilst a poor attempt of music was being played by an untalented, drunk fiddler. Max’s mind was grateful as the beer managed to relieve the insufferable irritation building up from his travelling companion. He tried to grab a second pint, when Cy loudly cancelled his order. “We have to make the money from Bessie last until we get to… where we need to go,” he hissed.

“Would you calm your tits? I already told you we’ve got plenty.” Cy never questioned what was in the sac when he returned from the ‘alien invaded’ village. He clearly never suspected it was stuffed with cash. Perhaps it was because a farmhand should be poor in this world? Max never felt like telling him. Whenever the coin pouch was feeling light, he would slip in a few more coins to make it never-ending. “If you’re so worried about money then let’s stop staying at the inns and just sleep outside.”

Cy pulled a face. “We’re not that desperate yet. It’s going to be expensive to buy two spaces on a ship.” For the last week they have been on the road, and Cy had been warning him repetitively of what it would mean if they didn’t have enough money. A trip on a ship meant another week of travel. Going on foot meant another month.

“The nearest harbour is just a couple of hours away?”

Cy mocked his words as he showed distain for Max’s lack of concern. After a moment, he began scanning the people around them for anyone he could convince to buy a couple more pints for them. For all of his bitching, Cy never seemed too willing to give up his luxurious in life. Max was about to take another sip when Cy began frantically patting his arm until it practically became punches of excitement. His beer spilled everywhere; on Max, on the table, on the enraged people around them. Everywhere. “Over there!” he hissed.

Story Name:

Best Night Ever!

Genre:

Bildungsroman

Description:

After a beating from a local pub’s patrons, the MC decides to have the craziest night of his life!

Goal:

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

Have a night that’ll be talked about for years to come.

Difficulty:

★★☆☆☆

How to Start:

Get punched!

“The fucks wrong with you.” Max began trying to clean up some of the mess Cy made before they were assaulted by the pissed, regular patrons. In an effort to show he was in control of the situation, he tightly grabbed Cy’s wrist before the flailing arm knocked over someone else’s glass.

“You told me to point out if I saw anyone else who had a vibrant fate like the mayor or the amnesiac? Well, there’s one over there.” Cy tried to point towards a woman with her feet up on a sticky table. With dark skin and black hair loosely held together in a singular braid, her appearance was slightly puzzling at first. Her clothing was loose and practical, as if she was a traveller. But her blouse was a cream colour and spotless. Grimy Max was slightly envious. Around her were several equally perplexing looking characters, who were binge drinking with every coin in their possession. The contrast was strange. They were wasted; she had an untouched pint of beer. They were strong, rugged people; she was athletic and slim. They had several tattoos; her rolled up sleeves showed none. Cy wasn’t wrong. She was one of them, and an experienced one.

“Stop. Attracting. Attention.” Max hissed as he struggled to contain Cy’s sudden excitement. What happened to the mysterious stranger with cryptic messages?

After sending Cy away to hunt for wealthier fools in the opposite direction, Max finally glanced in her direction. She was staring at him. Before he could look away, she broke eye contact first and started talking to one of the men next to her. Her casual posture caused him to relax slightly. She didn’t seem perturbed with them interrupting her story.

After a couple of minutes, a round of drinks suddenly appeared on their soaked table. There were more than enough for Max, Cy, and the pissed off people around them. “You’ve outdone yourself.” Max complimented a puzzled Cy as he handed out the drinks to the people around them. There was a strong pat on his back from one of the drunk recipients. Max had to pray it didn’t count as assault and let out a small sigh of relief when he noticed the prompt was still activated.

“Where did you get all of these?”

“What do you mean? This wasn’t you?”

“I got told to fuck off.”

Confused, Max looked around to see the woman was now holding her pint. It seemed like she was waiting for him to notice and gave him a smile as she raised her glass. Max was cautious as he reached for one of the fresh pints on the table and raised it as a reply.

Seemingly content, she began to talk with the other people around her before the pack got up to leave. The people around her struggled to maintain their balance as they knocked over several tables, people, and most importantly, pints of beer. Unlike when Cy made a mess, the other patrons kept their eyes down and their mouths shut. It wasn’t until after they left and the pub’s door had been closed properly behind them, that the drunk patron who had whacked Max on the back leaned into whisper. “I woudnae get involved with them. Dirty pirates.” He spat on the floor causing several others to copy the gesture, making the sickeningly dirty, wooden floor even worse.

“Thanks.” Max watched him down the beer provided by the ‘dirty pirates.’ “Cy, what colour was her fate?”

“A kind of dark green, I guess?”