Trex finished his beer and sat back in his chair clasping his hands behind his head. He sighed. “Marcus, I’m calling it a night. Will you close things down for me?”
“You know I will, boss.” Marcus sat his large Ogre frame down at Trex’s table. “Boss, Trystan ain’t the only one with a bad feeling tonight. Things ain’t setting right in the universe. Something bad is coming or maybe it already has. You know I don’t go in for all that mumbo jumbo, silly prophecy, bad feelings stuff usually and heaven knows I ain’t no magic user but I got a feeling I can’t shake. You look after Mal you hear and be careful of that bard. Seems nice enough but I can’t get a good read on him. My brain feels itchy.”
“I have it all under control, ya big worry baby.” Trex stood and slapped Marcus on the back and then walked toward the stairs where he was met by an overweight, staggering Ogre almost as large as Marcus.
“Stay down here, little Terren. I, I, I am goin’ up to her room.” The big Ogre wobbled a little and passed gas.
“I don’t think so, Stinky boy,” Trex said. “I think you’re actually leaving.”
“Ain’t leaving. Gonna go up there and teach that whore a lesson.” Stinky Boy said.
“What’s your beef?” Trex asked.
“Don’t have no beef with you, Mr. Owner. That thing you call your girl froze my friend and ruined him for life. He only wanted a closer look and meant no harm. She needs to learn her place and I’m gonna teach it to her.” Stinky Boy stepped forward and poked Trex in the forehead.
“If you got beef with Mal you got beef with me.” Trex smiled. “I haven’t had a good fight in a while, so you are now the lucky contestant in the who-gets-the-piss-beat-out-of-them game. Oh, and now have beef with him.” Trex pointed behind him at Marcus. “And them.” Trex pointed behind Stinky Boy where three Orcs and a massive Wolfen sat on the stairs. “Meet Clug, Streg, Megtug, and the grinning massive wolf-like creature goes by the name of Vegyar Darkness Eater.”
“You want us to just observe for now, boss?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah, he’s mine. I’m pissed. No one threatens Mal.” Trex said. He stared up at the seven foot Ogre. “Let’s dance ya burnt dingle.” He then took two steps forward and spun completely around performing a spinning heel kick to the Ogre’s knee. “Yeah, you drunken, stinking, slut. Here we go.” Trex yelled as the knee broke with a crack and the Ogre toppled to the side.
“That ain’t nice you little rat.” Stinky Boy growled. “Gonna eat you one limb at a time.” He reached for Trex but alcohol slowed his movements. “Come here you little pisser.”
The patrons of Low Places quieted as they all turned to watch the fight. O’Gannon started playing a heavy but lively tune as background music for the fight. Then he started chanting “Trex, Trex, Trex.” The crowd picked up the chant.
Trex punched the Ogre’s right arm three times and it fell to his side. Stinky Boy’s eyes glazed a little and he grunted as some of the pain of his situation finally worked its way into his alcohol soaked brain. He fell slowly over on his side as his body started shutting down.
Trex screamed as the crowd chanted and then jumped and landed with one foot coming down on the Ogre’s neck. He felt a crunch and his foot met the spine. “Yeah, bring it, you toilet floater. Yeah!” Trex flexed at the Ogre and screamed. “That’s right, bring that noise!”
The Ogre remained unmoving on the floor. Marcus stepped up to Trex and laid a massive hand on head and Trex turned with fists raised ready to continue. His pupils were fully dilated and his whole body tensed. “Whoa, it’s me boss, it’s me.”
Trex slowly lowered his hands to his side, O’Gannon stopped playing, and the crowd stopped chanting Trex’s name. “We. Do. Not. Misbehave. At Low Places.” Trex said as he turned to face a majority of the patrons. “Marcus, you and the crew get rid of this piece of trash. I’m going to bed. Everyone else go back to partying.” He started walking up the stairs.
“Boss?” Trystan walked up behind him.
Trex paused with his hand on the deeply polished and ornate banister, and then said. “It’s all over Trystan. I’m O.K. I’m sorry for being loud.”
“Okay boss. Are you happy?
“No, Trystan, I’m tired. I’ll be happy
tomorrow.”
“I love you boss.” Trystan wrapped him in a
hug.
Trex tensed but then relaxed. “I love you, too
kiddo. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Okay boss. Have a good sleep. Give Mal a
hug.”
“Good night, Trystan.”
Trex walked upstair, went to his room,
removed his clothes, and slid into bed next to Mal,
who tended to sleep like a dead person. He tossed and turned much of the night. His dreams of explosions waking him up several times. “I need to quit drinking so close to bed. Not fighting would be a good idea too,” He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side yet again. “I hate aging.”
As the light of dawn rolled through the bedroom window, Trex sat up and gingerly slid out of bed. His ankles popped, his knees popped, and as he stretched his arms above his head his shoulders and neck popped. He grunted derisively at himself and staggered into the cleansing room, relieved his bowels, turned on the magicked shower and let the heated water sooth and wake him. “Much better,” he thought as he stepped out of the shower and dried off. “Now for food and kaffe’.
As he stepped onto the floor of the main entertainment hall, Trystan yelled from the kitchen. “Morning boss dude. Breakfast cooking. Drink on bar.”
Trex shook his head. No matter how early he awoke, Trystan was always awake. “Do you ever sleep?” He muttered to himself with a smile. “Thanks buddy,” he yelled in return. He sipped a bit of the steaming kaffe’ Trystan had poured for him and sighed. “Hey Trystan, can you make me some of your wake-up water?”
“Coming right up boss.” Ten minutes later Trystan placed a large mug of water on the bar. The liquid swirled with ever changing colors depending on the angle of the light. “I put a little extra spice in it. Thought need it after big noise last night.”
Trex drank from the mug and smiled. “This is excellent. What’s in it? You need to tell me?”
Trystan smiled. “Grandma told me never to tell anyone. She took care of me lots. Always made me wake up water. Said people would think we’re magickers if they found out what’s in it. Can’t tell, no sorrow. Can’t tell you. Don’t worry tho, all good stuff.”
“Well, I need to respect Grandma wishes, that’s for sure. Thanks buddy.” Trex set the mug next to his kaffe’ and double fisted some morning energy while he waited for food and patrons to arrive.
A voice close behind Trex said, “Seems like a nice kid. Trymyso if I’m not mistaken.”
Trex turned around on his bar stool. An Elf stood facing him, standing just barely in his personal space. “Yeah, he is. Now back your trash up outta my space if you want to chat.”
“Right.” The Elf said as he sat down on the bar stool next to Trex.
Trex shook his head a little and pursed his lips for a brief moment. He turned back to the bar and poured more kaffe’ into his mouth. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
“No, I very much doubt it.” said the Elf.. He smiled briefly and rapped his knuckles on the bar. “Boy, bring me a whiskey and make sure it’s Elvish brewed.”
“His name is Trystan. Learn to use it . . . all the time.” Trex growled. “You’re rubbing me the wrong way, stranger. Did you want to talk or what?” Trex took another pull from his wake up water. “Yep, that’s excellent.”
“What drink is that which makes you smile so?” The Elf asked.
“None of your business.” Trex said.
“Have I given some offense, Sir?” The Elf asked.
“No, you’re just rubbing the rhubarb all wrong.” Trex spoke into his mug.
Trystan arrived and placed a rather large and rather full whiskey snifter in front of the Elf. “There ya go Mister Elf. Straight from the Lothl brewery.”
“Many thanks young Trymyso.”
“I told you his name is Trystan. The next time I hear you not use it correctly, there will be a problem.” Trex growled.
“Be nice boss, ain’t meaning no trouble by it, nope he ain’t. I can tell. But Mister Elf you do got trouble around you, I can tell too.” Trystan looked Trex in the eye. “Yep, I have a little tummy upset. I’m going to go make some herbal tea. It’ll be good.”
Trex nodded his head and watched Trystan walk back to the kitchen. “Well, I guess that means I’m on bar and food duty.” He walked around to the other side of the bar. “So what’s on your mind Mister Elf?”
“My name is Scal-Hun Wayhunter, hailing from Northern Lorlenia, a prince of the MacTer clan.”
“Thought that gods’ forsaken war of the four wiped out the MacTer clan?”
“Ah, little do you know my most esteemable Terren. Mostly wiped out, mostly wiped out. Yes, it took a great toll on us but we are a hard clan, unbreakable if you will.” Scal-Hun said.
“The skinny among the fighters was that there was a traitor among the MacTer and that’s why they took such massive losses.” Trex commented.
“You are older than you appear, my fine Terren. I too have heard those rumors but rest assured, they only hold falsity and deceit in them. I heard last night a bard played here and that his music created quite the atmosphere. Sadly, I was engaged in business and could not attend. Will he be playing this evening?”
“You heard correctly, Elf. It was quite the party. Yes. He’ll be here. Music starts when he arrives and he’ll be playing throughout the day and late into the evening if I know him as I think I do.” Trex smiled in spite of himself.
“Well then, I shall return later to assess this prodigy myself.” Scal-Hun stood abruptly and spun from his seat. His deep, red leather cloak flourished around him with the hood bunched at his neck. “I hope tonight’s party is all that I’ve come to enjoy while in Bifabad.” He walked toward the door, resting his hands on the two swords hanging at his hips. The soft baggy breeches and soft leather boots whispered as he glided across the floor.
“No one misbehaves at Low Places.” Trex said, raising his voice so he could be heard across the
room.
“As it should be, Sir Terren, as it should be.” Scal-Hun laughed and slammed the door as he left.
“What a tool.” Trex muttered. He went into the kitchen and grabbed the food that Trystan prepared for him. He checked on Trystan who slept fitfully on his cot, then walked back to the bar to enjoy the eggs, jerky, and fruit.
After eating, Trex busied himself with rubbing down the ornate, dark red colored bar, arranging the alcohol bottles on the shelves and filing any that were low. He checked all the kegs to make sure they were full, and then walked around the room wiping down the round and long tables, chairs, and booths. He made a mental note to send Trystan to Milgram’s to have someone come in and reupholster several of the cushioned booth seats that were fraying around the edges.
“Do you never sit and relax?” Mal said. She stood at the top of the stairs looking like a muzzy headed queen surveying her kingdom. She walked down the stairs as if she were entering an unknown cavern; each cautiously taken but finally planted with commitment.
“Are your knees and ankles bothering you again?” Trex asked as she reached the landing. He took her in his arms and gave her a massive hug, at least as massive as his shorter stature allowed. Releasing her he said, “I love when you put your hair back in that messy ponytail, it’s very sexy.” He arched his eyebrows at her and she giggled.
“Later.” She said and then bent down and kissed him rather firmly. “Yes, my joints feel like I’ve been ridden hard and put away wet. Do we have any willow powder?”
“I’ll get it.” He walked into the back area and returned with a mug of kaffe’ and a small bowl filled with greenish powder.
“Perfect. Thank you,” she said. She dumped a helping of the powder into her drink and sipped the kaffe’. “Ah, that’s beautiful.” She took another sip.
“You do know that water would be better for your joints and pain?”
“Shut up.” She looked at him with arched eyebrows and pouty lips. “Get me food, man slave. Is it still cool outside?”
“Your wish is my command and it’s still mildly cool out but the regulators insist it is supposed to get warmer starting today. We’ll see. Their weather wizards seem to be less than competent.”
Mal frowned and took another sip of kaffe’. “Great, training is going to suck today. I think I’ll stay in and drink heavily.’
“No, you’re going to train today, like you train everyday and you’re going to love it.” Trex stuck his head out the kitchen door. “You want extra grain meal with your eggs and cakes?”
“Uggghh, no. No thank you. Your grain meal always tastes like Louis’s dripping mucus.” Mal yelled back.
“I did not realize you had started hanging out with the dark god, let alone licking his nose.” Trex said walking out to the bar. “You food will be done cooking in just a moment, my queen. Do you desire more kaffe’?”
“Yes, my cute little Terren slave and be quick about it.” She giggled and they kissed across the bar. He grabbed her mug and went back to the kitchen. “Where’s Trystan?” She yelled to the kitchen.
Trex walked out of the kitchen with a tray holding a plate of eggs, a bowl of grain meal, some flat cakes, a bottle of sweet syrup, and a pile of jerky. He put them on the bar in front of Mal. “A meal fit for a lusty queen. Trystan is sleeping off a stomach buzz. An Elf walked in earlier and triggered it. By the way, you should probably put on some pants and an overshirt before our regulars showed up.”
Mal smiled like a cat with no shame. “What? You don’t think Miles and Mykroft wouldn’t enjoy seeing me in me delicates? She laughed like a drunk barbarian, then got up from her bar stool. “Be right back.” She walked up the stairs to her room and shortly returned wearing the tightest leather clothing she owned, her black boots clomping on the stairs.
“Not sure if that’s an improvement.” Trex smiled like a school boy peeking in the window of an attractive neighbor’s bedroom. “Yikes.”
“Then it’s a perfect outfit. Now shut up, clean something, and let me eat.”
Trex just smiled and went back to cleaning and organizing tables and chairs.
After about an hour, Trystan wandered out of the kitchen. “Good Morning Mal. Happy birthday.”
Mal turned and smiled. “Good morning Trystan. Happy birthday. You know it’s not my birthday right?”
“Happy birthday Mal.” Trystan repeated, smiling as he started prepping mugs for the soon to be arriving patrons.
“Remember, that’s one of the greetings he uses when he’s very happy to see someone or he’s having mild brain glitches and knows he needs to say, ‘hello’.” Trex said, standing next to her.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”
“Sometimes he’s hard to follow.” Trex watched the 18 year old and smiled. “You feeling ok buddy?”
“Feeling great, yep. Didn’t like that Elf. O’Gannon wears funny hats, you think?” Trystan said, wrinkling his eyes and sticking out his tongue.
“Yeah, I agree,” said Mal. “But I think he’s an okay guy. What do you think, Trystan?”
“Don’t know. He made my stomach hurt but he’s nice, I guess.” Trystan adjusted his rainbow colored tunic and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I need a haircut.”
“You just had one last week,” said Trex.
“I don’t like it.” said Trystan.
“I think it looks wonderful,” said Mal.
“Whatever,” Trystan said. He blew out a breath of air and put a hand up in her face as he walked back into the kitchen. “I need to prep.”
Mal looked at Trex. “What?”
Trex just shrugged his shoulders. “Guess today he’s playing the part of the drama king. I don’t know.”
Mal and Trex sat on bar stools and watched as the regulars started wandering in. Miles and Mykroft did, in fact, stare at Mal for several extra moments when they said hi. Trex poured drinks, Trystan cooked, and Mal sat and enjoyed the slow burn, trying to decide if she was actually going to workout or not, knowing that she would.
Around the time of the midday meal, O’Gannon bounced down the stairs, his beret sporting a new feather, his baggy breeches and ornate tunic blinding with their multiple colors. “What is good today, Trex? I have a party level hunger raging in my belly and it is time to prepare for the love.” He said, sitting down at the bar.
“I’ll grab you a special.” Trex said. “You want beer, flavored water, or wine?”
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“Kaffe’ with a bit of Dwarven whiskey if you wouldn’t mind.” He turned to Mal who continued lounging on her bar stool. “And how are you today, my most fiery of redheads?” He looked her over and smiled. “I see we are sporting the huntress and bondage ensemble today. Quite glorious. Those knee-highs are to die for.”
“Keep talking and you just might.” She took a drink from her mug and smiled at the bard.
“Spooky, I can’t tell if you are serious or not.” O’Gannon stared at her for a moment.
Mal walked over to him and stared intensely into his eyes for just a moment and then smiled and gave him a massive and very tight hug. “Don’t worry about it flippy flop man, it’s all love.” She let him go and punched him in the shoulder before returning to her stool, chuckling. “I thought you’d like to see how the outfit felt.”
“Curvy.” O’Gannon smiled and then laughed like a sailor finding a willing mate for the night.
“Be nice miss huntress of the wild alcohol.” Trex said, standing behind the bar. He refilled Mal’s mug and put food in front of O'Gannon. “Eat up and enjoy that Dwarven kaffe’; not a lot of people order that anymore. Was a pretty trendy drink there for a while.”
“Trex, my dear, anything I do is trendy.” He took a sip of the kaffe’. “And this is perfection.” After finishing the food he said, “Who cooked this? It’s astonishing.”
“Trystan does most of the cooking, Flippy-flop. I think he’s got some innate magic when it comes to food prep.” Mal said. “I think it’s part of being a Trymyso. You know how they all have gifts and talents that are difficult to explain. Plus, apparently his grandmother basically raised him in her kitchen. His parents killed each other when he was younger.”
“Oh, the sadness. What an amazing young man. I love him.” O’Gannon said with a very serious look on his face.
“We all do; me, Trex, all the regulars at Low Places. No one messes with Trystan without significant consequences.” Mal said.
“Well add me to the list.” he said and then walked to the stage and started playing warm up exercises on his instruments.
“I have a strange feeling about him,” Mal said, turning back to the bar.
“I like him,” Marcus said just off of Mal’s right shoulder. “Me and the crew decided he’s cool in spite of that song he played yesterday.” He nodded at Trex. “Good afternoon boss. Afternoon Mal. Everything smooth?
“It’s about time you showed up, you lazy slug,” Trex said, smiling. “All is well except for an Elf that came in way too early. Me and Trystan both got bad vibes from him. Long black hair, red leather cloak, twin blades. Keep an eye out for him should he come back, but generally let him be.”
“I’ll pass it on to the crew.” Marcus stared at Darkness Eater for a moment who then barked two short barks. Marcus nodded his head and smiled.
“Well,” Mal said, pushing herself off of her stool. “Time to go out back and do some drunk training. Always good to train how you fight. Eh, Marcus?” She chuckled.
“I never fight drunk.” Marcus said. “I’m too busy protecting you.”
She sidled over to him and leaned into his chest. Looking up at him she said, “And I am so in love with you for that fact. What would we do without you Marcus?”
Marcus wrapped his homespun tunic covered arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’d find someone else with which to friend-flirt. He looked over her head at Trex and shook his head slightly, and Trex shrugged his shoulders.
She pushed away from him. “Ok, Ok, enough with that sappy spit. I’m outta here.” She walked back to the kitchen and then a door slammed.
Trystan walked out of the kitchen and over to where Trex and Marcus stood against the bar. “Mal went out to the training area.” Trex tousled his already messy thinning hair and smoothed out his rumpled, brown undershirt. “I’ll make sure to check that she’s alright. Ok, boss?”
Trex smiled, and chuckled.. “Thanks Trystan, I appreciate it.”
Trystan sipped from a tea cup and walked back into the kitchen. At which point a loud banging, thumping sound assaulted everyone in the main room. “What in Louis’s black nuts is that? Said Trex.
“Somebody up on the stage with O’Gannon, take a look.”
Trex looked over at the stage. “I did not approve this.” He walked to the stage, meandering through the obstacle course of tables and patrons lounging in their chairs chatting, drinking, eating, and sitting quietly waiting and watching the stage. “So, O’Gannon, who in the nine planes is this and why is he on my stage?” He pointed at the pointy eared man with mildly pointed ears and blond shoulder length hair.
“Oh Boss, this is Juxt. We met last night as the party was blossoming. He’s a beat keeper. Do you not simply love it? Juxt come here. This is the boss Terren, Trex. He’s fabulous and wonderful and wait until you meet his better half, Mal. To die for.”
Juxt stretched out his arm offering his hand to Trex who shook it briefly. “I don’t mean to cause you any problems. O’Gannon said that I could play a set with him today and you would probably be okay with that. I can pack up the beaters if you would like me to.” He gestured to three skin covered wooden cylinders on the floor, one rather large, and two smaller ones. There were also two metal discs attached to the larger beater and a smaller stool that looked like it had threadings and rotated.
“O’Gannon, don’t ever assume anything about me. I’m in a pretty great mood today so I’ll give it a couple of sets and decide. Gimme some good stuff and you might have yourself a contract, Juxt. We like a good solid party here as you probably know. Help, flippy flop man here facilitate that and we’ll be solid. Clear?”
“That sounds pretty cool, boss.” Juxt smiled and went back to assembling his beater kit.
“Thanks boss,” O’Gannon said. “I love this guy already. How can you not love a guy who paints his beaters in so many colors it makes your eyes hurt. Those baggy white pants tucked into his boots like some military madman. Love. it.”
“Not really my style, the cut of that black overshirt looks like a mentally broken troll sewed it. But hey, you guys do you.”
“We’ll be up and playing in about 15 minutes boss.” O’Gannon walked over to Juxt and spoke quietly for a moment and then slapped him on the backside. Then he went back to tuning his violin while a few people in the crowd laughed.
Trex walked back to the bar and sat down near Marcus who stood at the end of the bar. The sunlight coming through the all glass roof glinting off the gray in his hair. “Your gray is sparkling,” Trex said straight-faced. “Guess we have ourselves another musician.” He said, pouring himself another drink.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a beat keeper on the stage. It’ll be good. I like a good thumping, vibrating beat that makes my insides shake.” Marcus waved at one of the servers, a curvy Dwarf woman with her brown hair piled high on her head, named Maggie Swinethrower. She doubled as a cook when Trystan or Trex were unavailable. She also filled in on Marcus’s crew when one of the others was unavailable. She waved back and smiled and then she dropped tray of food and drinks on a table surrounded by a couple of Orcs, an Ogre, and a Dwarf. “That’s odd you usually don’t see Dwarves and Orcs sitting together. I’ll have to keep an eye on that table.”
“Probably a business meeting.” said Trex. “That Ogre is probably security for somebody.”
“Looks more like a representative for someone else. That’s a pretty fancy cloak and boots he’s wearing.”
“True but check out the fraying on his tunic sleeves. If he’s representing someone then it’s from a disadvantage, I’d guess.”
“Agreed.” Marcus said. “I don’t really care as long as they behave themselves.”
“Very true. As long as your coin is good and you party honestly, I don’t really care who you are or who you represent.” Trex laughed loudly. “My friend, this is a far better way to make money than killing.”
“Yes,” Marcus said, quietly.
“Greetings and welcome to Low Places all you lovely folk. My name is O’Gannon and this is Juxt. We shall be making your afternoon and evening fabulous so tip well and party with lust.” O’Gannon announced and then started playing his violin. Juxt played a rhythm on the beaters that made the violin line jump and dance with vigor and the afternoon patrons pounded their cups and mugs with a few jumping up and dancing.
“Well that’s a pretty solid sound,” Trex said. “I’m going down to get a few more bottles of whiskey, wine, and gnomka.” He walked back to the kitchen. Trystan flipped meat patties, fried tubers, and boiled veggies all the while singing off key trying to keep up with O’Gannon’s music. “Smells excellent as always kiddo. How are you feeling?”
“Feeling positive but my stomach always seems to be a little lucky.” Trystan said.
“Don’t you mean yucky?”
“That’s what I said, boss. Lucky.”
“Got it.” Trex opened a door at the end of the kitchen near the cold larder and walked down a longer flight of stairs into the alcohol cellar. He puttered around the room grabbing several bottles off shelves and put them in a basket on a counter in the middle of the room. When he finished gathering the bottles together he pushed against one of the corners of the counter top and part of the back wall opened to reveal another shorter flight of stairs going down below the cellar.
He walked down into a smaller room making sure to close the wall panel behind him. Placed around the room were shelves covering the entirety of each wall. Each shelf contained a small vial of colored liquid or gas. Some contained solid crystals. As he walked to one of the walls, he laid an hand gently on a forge built in the center of the room. He had built it with specially processed Orinyl. Standing in front of the wall he grabbed a black vial, a clear vial, a green vial, and an orange vial. He sighed and then unstoppered each.
One after another he placed a drop of each colored liquid in his left eye. When he finished, he stood very still and his body spasmed, muscles tightening and clenching. His eyes grew wide and dilated. After several minutes the spasms ended and he collapsed to the floor. He crawled to a chair and sat with his eyes closed and after about fifteen minutes he felt amazing, like he had grown younger. He felt vigorous with energy and lustiness flowing through his body. He growled and laughed loudly.
After another couple of minutes that effect also passed and ended. “Now back to work.” He said, smiling. He stood up and looked around with rejuvenated sight. “Going to have to replenish my ore supply.” He walked past the forge and the pile of metal ore, back up the stairs and out into the alcohol cellar. He grabbed the basket of bottles and walked back up to the kitchen, the clinking bottles keeping time with his steps. He made sure to close the door behind him, patted Trystan on the shoulder and wandered back out into the main hall.
The music hit him like a wave of heat. The beats pounded through the floor as O’Gannon danced, played, and sang. Many of the patrons were now on their feet stomping and clapping. He looked over at Marcus who drummed his hand lightly on the bar and bobbed his head. “This party is off to a pounding start.” He laughed and walked behind the bar, stepping up onto a platform that automatically came out of the wall whenever anyone under five feet, five inches tall stood before it, he placed the bottles of alcohol on the shelves in front of the large acid etched mirror. Trex watched the crowd through the mirror. “This is the life.”
He stepped down off that platform and stepped up onto the one that came out of the bar. This way he could stand as tall as the patrons who sat at the bar. He’d built the contraption himself when he bought the building and renovated it. Marcus and Mal were the only others who knew how the inset platforms worked.
“He’s quite mesmerizing, is he not.” Marcus said, sitting on a stool opposite Trex. His eyes held a mildly vacant look as he drummed his hand on the bar and his pupils were slightly dilated.
“Hmmmmm?” Trex said, and turned to watch the two bards. The song finally came to an end and the crowd yelled and hooted as they all sat down to continue eating and drinking. Marcus laughed like a soldier in the midst of battle, drunk on adrenaline and alcohol. “You alright there buddy?
“What? Oh, hey Trex. That was a quick trip to the cellar. The new beat keeper is great.” Marcus grinned.
“Yeah, you already mentioned that.”
Trex waved at another of the servers. A young, lithe looking gnome woman waved back and he gestured for her to come over to the bar. “Hey how are you Allinthe?”
“I’m doing well, boss. Do you need something?” She took a moment to tie her long red tresses back into a tail.
“Yeah, can you take over tending duty? I’m going to go sit near the stage and enjoy the music for a minute.” He punched Marcus in the arm. “Pay attention you oaf. Allinthe has the bar.”
“Knock it off you little dingle, I can hear. Go and enjoy your music. We'll be back here actually working.” He winked at the Gnome. “Can you grab me some water?”
“I think I would love to grab for you some water, more than anything else at the moment.” She smiled and walked back behind the bar and poured Marcus a mug of water while Trex wandered through the tables and sat near the corner of the stage, closer to the front door. He joined a Dwarf with three mugs and a plate piled with bacon in front of himself and a shortish, bald human wearing a threadbare monk’s robe and visionelles.
“Ya don’t see too many people wearing visionelles,” he said to the human. “It’s a rare crafting indeed.”
The balding man extended his hand toward Trex who shook it firmly. “I holdeth the name, Nathan, Father Nathan to be exact. I wander the world and provideth healing, care, and counsel for those who suffereth in the realms. Who wouldst thou be?”
Trex blinked several times and shook his head. “My name is Trex and I own this wonderful place of entertainment. What’s a monk like you doing in a place like this? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“He’s here to preach and make us all feel guilty for our pleasures," the Dwarf growled, taking a large drink from one of the mugs.
“Good Dwarf, I careth not for thy indulgences. Thou art free to debauch thyself deeply and with lustily. I found myself traveling here at the behest of my God. His guidance doth bring me here, though I know not why?” Father Nathan sipped lightly from a small mug. “You maketh excellent tea.”
“Don’t blame me for the tea, that’s the work of my man, Trystan. If he makes it, you’ll find no better.” Trex put his feet up on the table. “The boy is a bit of a wonder, honestly.”
“Yes, the visionelles tendeth to be unique. Given to me by a Dwarven friend, only a hundred years after the second creation. Syn had already taught the Terreni the way of crafting.” Father Nathan said. He removed the wire frames and cleaned the clear crystals they held. “Twas a good friend he was.”
“I know the history,” Trex said. “You speak as if you were there. I doubt that very much.”
“I was.” Father Nathan said. He looked into Trex’s eyes for a moment, then smiled, “Or I’ve lost my mind and have no idea why I’m sitting here.” He laughed like a child watching a parent make contorted faces.
“I vote for crazy.” The Dwarf grunted and stuffed a handful of bacon into his mouth. The pile actually appeared to have grown while Father Nathan and Trex spoke. “C’mon you whoreson of a bard, give us more music or I’ll pop your head off like a chicken to be butchered.”
Juxt walked over to address the Dwarf. “I’ve noticed you’ve eaten several plates of bacon. Aren’t you sick of it?” He looked at Trex and winked.
O’Gannon walked over to join Juxt. “What is so interesting over here and why am I not being involved?”
“I needed to ask this fine Dwarf about his food?” Juxt said.
“He does seem to have a fabulous appetite for beer and bacon.” O’Gannon said, throwing his hands wide.
“It’s all I need when I’m having a good time, now get ta playing ya light-footed bards.”
“Well, I hope the bacon sits well in your stomach and sickness finds you not.” Juxt said, slapping O’Gannon on the back. “Let’s thump this place.” He turned and walked back to his beater kit.
“Indeed,” O’Gannon said with a wide grin on his face. He returned to his violin. “Are you all ready for more? Come on now and let’s dance.” The patrons cheered and beat their tables.
Juxt started the next song with a strong beat, the large beater keeping a thumping and vibrating steady four. After several measures O’Gannon entered the song with a wicked long note and a riff that vibrated the teeth and demanded you bounce your head in response. At that moment, Mr bacon eater uttered a loud groan.
“Art thou unwell? Perhaps I may ply my healing trade with thee?” Father Nathan stood and walked around to the Dwarf, who sat bent in his seat, holding his stomach.
“I wouldn’t get too close good Father, he looks like he’s about to blow.” Trex snickered.
“Sir, I fully agree.” Father Nathan walked back to his seat. “I shall attend thee once thy body completes its necessities.
Trex stood on his chair and waved Maggie over as Bacon Eater continued to groan, now rocking in his seat. She walked to the table quickly. “We’re gonna need a clean up crew in about three minutes.” He pointed at the Dwarf.
“On it.” She left and quickly walked to the kitchen area, grabbing several servers as she went.
Then Mr. Bacon Eater vomited up every piece of bacon he’d eaten and every drop of beer he’d quaffed. Fortunately none of the mess stained the stage but Father Nathan and Trex both had to scramble from the table to avoid the spew. The servers arrived and started cleaning. Marcus arrived and grabbed the Dwarf by the collar and belt. “It’s time to end your festivities, my good Dwarf,” Marcus said. He carried him to the door, which he kicked open, and with a grunt tossed Mr. Bacon Eater into the middle of the street. “Enjoy the evening rain and remember, we don’t misbehave at Low Places.” Marcus laughed and slammed the door. He looked at the Orc standing in the corner. “He doesn’t come back for a week.”
“Got it, boss,” replied the Orc.
After the vomiting incident O’Gannon and Juxt slowed the pace a little and everyone relaxed into the afternoon. The music flowed more instead of being deeply pounding. Trex sat with Father Nathan just chatting for about an hour.
“You know the Dogs of Nevyr have been seen roaming the realm.” Father Nathan said.
“Yes,” Trex said, drawing out the vowel slightly. “I have no idea who or what the Dogs of Nevyr are.”
“Darkness and shadow are rising.” Father Nather said, waving his arms around slowly.
“Darkness and shadow are always on the rise, good father. It is the way of reality. There is darkness and light, they ebb and flow but generally remain in balance as far as I can tell.”
“I’m not crazy, you know.”
“What news have you of the world outside of Bifabad?” Trex said, trying to change the subject.
“I’ve seen undead walking the ruins of Clintoninia.” Father Nathan whispered loudly.
“Interesting. I swear every traveler that walks through the front door thinks they’ve seen undead wandering about. Everyone knows Clintoninia lies abandoned.” Nathan took a deep drink from his mug.
“Yes, yes. Thou art most likely correct, but did you know the cult of the warrior has expanded it’s territory beyond Comonalitya?”
“No, I did not and that is actually interesting.” Trex scratched his chin and put his feet back up on the table. “Are they establishing new temples or simply recruiting more and more?”
“Both, I dost think.”
They continued to chat for a time and then Trex kicked back his chair. “Good father, it has been an most interesting pleasure sharing a table and drink with you but now I need to get back to work. The sun indicates we are upon the hour of the evening meal and I must go help my staff prepare for the rather large influx of patron we’ll be seeing in about thirty minutes. Please, stay and enjoy the party. The boys on the stage will be drinking and playing all night.”
“Ah, ‘tis glorious to be young and able to push the limits of one’s body and mind. I shall stay for a time and enjoy your well behaved community.” Father Nathan sat forward and drank deeply from his mug and stood up. “I believe that I doth require access to thy cleansing room.”
Trex pointed. “Just past that table where the Gnome and Ogre are playing Ornott, take a left into the short hallway. It’ll be on your right.”
Father Nathan left and made his way to the cleansing room while Trex wandered back to the bar. “How we doing, everybody?”
Marcus smiled and nodded and Allinthe stuck her thumb in the air as she slid a mug across the bar to a patron. “You still drinking, boss?” She asked.
“Kaffe’ please. Anyone seen Mal?” He looked around and couldn’t locate her fiery red hair anywhere. “Marcus could you go look in the Dancers’ Ballroom?”
“Got it boss.” Marcus walked into the dance hall and returned after a few minutes. “Not there and none of the girls or crew have seen her.”
Allinthe poured coffee into a mug and slid it across to Trex. “I’ve been pretty busy but I don’t think I’ve seen her around for a bit.”
“Thanks.” Trex walked into the kitchen. Trystan stood at the grill, frying more meat patties and stirring a massive pot of soup.
“Hey Trystan.” Trex said, tapping the boy on the shoulder. “Have you seen Mal?”
“We’re going to need lots of tubers tonight. I’m cooking up some extras.” Trystan said, not looking at Trex.
“Trystan.” Trex said a little louder.
He turned his head slowly. His eyes had widened and he put his hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really think that people love tubers. That sounded loud, boss.”
“Have you seen Mal?” Trex closed his eyes and spoke slower and calmer.
“I checked on her about a while ago and she just kept sitting in the back. In the training area where you teach me. Light crackly-crackled from her hair and danced among the raindrops. Then I came back in and decided to put in more tubers.”
“Trystan the extra tubers is a great idea. Here, give me a hug.” Trex wrapped his arms around the boy and squeezed as the boy bent down to hug him. “Okay, you okay?”
“I’m okay, boss.”
“C’mon let’s go watch Mal train for a few minutes.” Trex walked to the back door and opened it. The sun was setting and dusk, for several minutes, placed the world in graying shadows. The blood-crafted lamps set around the training area started turning on providing shadowy illumination. “I don’t see her out here, kiddo. C’mon let’s go see if she’s hiding.”
“Okay,” Trystan said as he followed Trex out into the quarter acre of training area.
The rain drizzled covering them like a thin, wet blanket as they looked around equipment, inside enclosed areas, and inside the hedgerow. “I’m getting cold, boss. Can I go back in? I think maybe she went upstairs to sleep or maybe something like that. She’s not out here. Weird, huh?”
“Yeah, weird. Let’s both go inside.” They walked back into the kitchen and grabbed towels to dry off a little. “You better get back to cooking, kiddo. I’ll go see if she’s upstairs sleeping.”
“Okay, boss.”
Trex walked out of the kitchen and upstairs. He paused for a moment at the door to the rooms he shared with Mal, and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply. “Calm body, calm breath, calm mind.” He thought. He pushed the door open and saw an empty, undisturbed room.