Chapter 19: Carousers
As Alcar and Master Maluhk were almost at the doors of the Black Mackerel, three familiar figures burst out, each with a ale-filled tankard in their hands – Olynka, Etienne and Warlik. All of them looked at each other, and then the three carousers began to laugh uncontrollably.
“I told you there was somewhere we were supposed to be,” slurred Etienne, pointing at Alcar, and he then laughed so hard that he was gasping for breath, doubling over and dripping most of what remained of his drink onto the road.
“It’s... Alcar...” said Olynka. Her eyes were wide, the pupils greatly dilated, and she seemed to be looking through Alcar rather than at him.
“You,” said Warlik, pointing out with one scaly finger and prodding it several times into Maluhk’s chest. “Old friend. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Maluhk turned towards Alcar, and gestured towards the trio. “Another lesson for you, young man. The effects of liquor. Here you see three of the most common kinds of drunks: angry, hysterical, and spaced.”
“But guys,” said Alcar, looking at the trio in dismay, too upset and confused to learn any lessons. “We had a plan. Where the hell were you? I went all the way to the dwarves’ safe house by myself, and found Maluhk.”
At this, Etienne and Warlik looked at each other, and both roared with laughter all over again. Olynka, meanwhile, took a step closer to Alcar, put one hand on each of his shoulders, and brought her face very close to his. “Woah, man,” she said. “That’s intense.”
“For fuck’s sake,” muttered Alcar, pulling himself free from his friend and scowling around at the three. “You just went to the tavern? You’ve really let me down here.”
“They are clearly plastered,” said Maluhk with a shrug. “Some rescue team you put together, young man.”
Just then the barmaid from earlier strode outside. “What the heck do you think you are doing with those tankards?” she asked, grabbing the one that Warlik was holding.
“Hey!” cried the lizardman, putting one hand to the hilt of his sword.
“Easy, old friend,” said Maluhk.
“If it isn’t the beautiful Christia,” said Etienne, stepping forward and pressing his own tankard into the barmaid’s hand, again slurring as he spoke. “Never has a fairer face graced the taverns and bars of the merchant’s quarter.” He leaned back against the edge of the tavern, and his eyes began to drift shut.
“Oh, you’re back,” said Christia the barmaid, now looking at Alcar. “I can’t believe these three idiots. They wandered in looking like they were all about to collapse. I thought they must be injured. Etienne asked for water, of all things, as if that’s ever safe to drink in the city. And then, moments later, all three had passed out on one of our tables. Sound asleep. Couldn’t get them to wake up no matter how much I shook them. I had to pour fire brandy down their throats to get a reaction.”
“That, my dear, was rather unwise,” said Maluhk, now stepping forward and cupping Warlik’s chin in his large hand, and then turning to peer closely at Olynka.
Just then, Alcar remembered the loris root. “Would this help?”
Maluhk nodded. “Yes, do that, kid. One or two strands each. My own sorcery power is just about depleted for the day. Consider that lesson two, by the way.”
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Alcar pulled out several more strands from the jar in his pocket. Olynka accepted one without question and began to chew it with a grin, while Etienne was still laughing so hard it was difficult to put it into his mouth. Eventually, with a mumbled apology, Alcar flipped the little rogue onto his back, and dropped the strands into his mouth while he was still laughing. Soon, the laughs turned to choking gurgles.
Warlik proved hardest of all; the lizard swordsman was flipping between fits of laughter to aggrieved anger. Maluhk managed to pin him back against the outer wall of the tavern, but even then, the lizardman just snarled at Alcar, refusing to open his mouth... Not seeing any other option, Alcar cupped one hand over Warlik’s nostrils until he gave in and opened his mouth to take a breath. Alcar popped in the strand at that exact moment, and both men then put hands across the warrior’s face to stop him from spitting the herb out again.
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Thirty minutes later, the group had all arrived back at Maluhk’s tower. After taking the loris root, the three drunkards had sobered up quickly, and displayed little to no memory of how they had ended up in the tavern, or what had happened after that point. After a brief squabble about paying their bar tab, the group had hurried away.
“You’re all hella obnoxious drunks, anyway,” said Alcar, as they walked up the exterior steps. He was rubbing his left forarm, which Warlik had bitten in the process of getting the strand of root into the warrior’s mouth.
“I’m sorry buddy,” said Olynka. “As I said, I really don’t know how it happened.”
Golgrasanna,” said Maluhk. “She started working for Clan Ironrock, by the sounds of things. But let’s get inside.”
Olynka’s eyes widened at this, but they moved on up the steps and knocked.
Lox’aar, opened the door a crack.
“Lox’aar!” cried Maluhk. “Alcar told me you were here. I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
Lox’aar smiled and released the door, which swung wide open and banged loudly against the exterior wall. “Oops – sorry about that,” she said, glancing at the open door. “I’m still limping here.” She stepped back, allowing Brutus to leap forward and rear up, licking Alcar’s face.
“Not at all, dear Lox’aar,” said Master Maluhk, as the others filed in. “It’s a flaw of the door, in truth. Needs repaired. Not to mention my roof... it’s a great pity that I didn’t get some work out of those damn dwarves before they decided to kidnap me. I had hoped to get at least a week of free labor while I observed them.”
“Ach, well... You’ve still got Alcar to do your dirty work for you,” said Etienne, and then snickered.
“Is this one needing more of the loris root?” asked Warlik of the halfling.
“No – that’s just his personality, unfortunately,” responded Alcar.
“Come on, everyone,” said Maluhk, “and, uh... dog. We should all get safely inside before the effects of that ill-conceived rescue mission bear fruit.” He pulled the door shut.
Olynka caught Alcar’s eye as they moved into the lounge. “He’s... all right?”
“Not massively grateful, is he?” murmured Alcar.
The lounge was now lit by several lanterns, two on the central table and others on the shelves at the back. After Alcar and Maluhk had related a brief version of the events at the dwarves’ safe house, Lox’aar pointed to the door of the cellar. ”As far as I know, she’s still in there, and still out cold,” the archer explained. “At first I went in and secured her wrists and ankles with rope, just in case. Since then I haven’t heard a thing from her, and I didn’t want to try to wake her until some of you returned.”
“Well, what do you want to do with her now?” asked Alcar, a shudder of fear passing through him as he remembered how close Golgrasanna had been to putting her dagger through his neck.
“We ought to hand her over to the city guards,” said Etienne thoughtfully.
“Or feed her some of the stew?” suggested Alcar. “I thinking long-term unconsciousness would be an improvement.”
Warlik shrugged. “If you’re sure the door is totally secure, then let her stay there,” said the lizardman. “And hand her over to the authorities in the morning. She’s a witness, and it will help to pin these crimes on the dwarves.”
“Ah... about that,” said Master Maluhk, sitting heavily on the sole comfortable chair in the room. “The thing is, it’s complicated. I don’t think I can raise anything with the authorities.”
“Why not?” asked Lox’aar. She was holding Olynka’s bow, and Alcar noticed that the lizardwoman had restrung it with the catgut from her own bow – a major upgrade on the twine that Olynka had been using before.
“I should tell you what it was that the dwarves hired me for in the first place,” said Malukh. “Then everything will become clear.”