Lou stared dazedly in front of his cart as he drove himself through Oxby on his way back from the Kelly family farm.

He was relatively certain he had a bug in his ear, if not a worm or two in his pocket, and he didn’t even want to think much of his person was covered in dirt…

The remainder of his time at the Kelly farm had involved a significant amount of throwing Brody, and later on, Franny around.

Luckily for him, Maureen Kelly had been too preoccupied with making dinner to notice that when Brother Lou was launching her children off his person, they were sent flying farther in the air than should have been humanly possible…

Lou let out a long sigh.

The two children however were none the wiser and had only squealed and laughed in delight.

Smiling to himself, Lou found his thoughts turning back to Oliver.

No wonder he wanted a few moments of quiet at my place… Though I also see why he loves them. The monk laughed quietly to himself, that is until the tidbit of information that Maureen Kelly had shared with him reappeared in his mind, making his stomach jolt unpleasantly as though he had just missed a step.

Oliver’s finding a wife… And it sounds like his family wants me to be the one to cite the ceremony…

Lou wished he could have a drink. But he didn’t have any ale back at home…

Looking to his left, as if the gods had decided to grant him one small mercy as a reward for handling the devilish Kelly brood, a tavern appeared.

Its windows were aglow and warm; a tolerable level of noise emitted from the closed arched wooden door and two glass windows that were opened a crack to let in the cool summer breeze…

Lou swallowed.

He had pointedly avoided the pub for numerous reasons. One of which being that he didn’t usually enjoy loud or crowded places. For another, there was a chance some drunken brawl could break out and Lou might accidentally unlock abilities he didn’t wish for.

Turning his pony and cart over to the posts, he stared at the building in open trepidation.

It was also a terrible impression to give the townspeople if he were seen partaking too often… Then again, if he kept himself segregated he wouldn’t be able to properly build his congregation.

“Brother Lou?”

Jolting in surprise, Lou turned around to find none other than Benny standing beside his cart, his hands in his pockets, and despite the twilight hour, his wavy blond hair still gleaming.

“Ah, Mr. Mistlebay.”

“Benny,” the Oxby local reminded with a smile.

“How are you this evening?” Lou asked with a strained tone. He was still trying to overcome being shocked out of his thoughts.

“I’m well, Brother Lou. I should be at choir rehearsal day after tomorrow.”

“Good, good…” Lou nodded distractedly.

“Are you coming in for a drink this evening?” There was a faint note of laughter in Benny’s voice.

“Er… Well I… I was considering it, but maybe I should just… Just go home for the night, I’m sure-”

“Come in, Brother Lou. I’ll buy you a drink,” Benny goaded gently, his smile sincere, and his deep blue eyes twinkling.

“I-I don’t mean to impose my company on-”

“It isn’t an imposition, Brother. Many people have been curious about you, you’ll be in fine company.”

Lou swallowed.

Well… he had wanted a drink, and as soon as he tried to leave again Benny had come. It were as if… As if…

Lou looked to the sky suspiciously, his eyes narrowed.

It was all too… fortuitous.

Was Tivera plotting something?

“Brother Lou?”

Benny called out to the monk who was behaving exceptionally strange that evening.

Closing his eyes, Lou let out a long sigh.

Well, if his previous trial with Tivera meant anything, he knew he’d have to face whatever tomfoolery was afoot sooner or later.

“Thank you for your kind invitation, Benny. Yes. Yes, I would like to join you for a drink in the pub.”

Stepping down from his carriage, his reticent attitude not lost on the Oxby man, the monk then set to tying off his horse on the nearby post.

“I promise we don’t bite, Brother Lou,” Benny teased, his smile broadening as though he were on the cusp of laughing.

“Yes, I know.” The monk clasped his hands in front of himself as he faced the young man before him. “Shall we?”

Benny cleared his throat, still battling off a chuckle at Lou’s obvious anxiety, then moved forward to open the door for him.

Upon crossing the threshold and moving to the side to allow Benny in after him, Lou took stock of the tavern that, according to the wooden sign that swung above the door, was called The Pumpernickel Prince

To his left a long bar took up nearly the entire wall, its wood looked black in the low light save for its top which was made out of pine. Behind the bar sat the ale barrels, but above them was a long shelf that ran the length of the wall filled with bottles of amber colored and clear liquors.

The walls were white washed, but great beams lined the ceiling that matched the floorboards. Long tables with benches filled the space in front of the bar with its stools, with ringed chandeliers hanging above with its candles already lit. A great stone fireplace took up a sizeable amount of the wall to the right, and it, too, was also already lit.

All in all, it was a standard tavern, with a lone oil painting of a black stallion hanging beside the fireplace.

The only other detail of the place that separated it from other taverns that Lou had visited in his life, was the fellow manning the bar.

He was missing his right arm and his left eye, but aside from that he didn’t look like the stereotypical battle-hardened soldier. He was short, with his black hair partially tied back, slanted eyes, and a softened middle. He wore a white tunic, dark blue pants, and a purple sash around his hips, which was not a common style in the Birming Empire…

Indeed, he drew the eye for multiple reasons.

“An ale, Brother Lou, or would you like something stronger?” Benny called out.

“Ale would be fine,” Lou nodded his thanks, as he continued surveying the room, though he found himself regretting doing so a second later when he belatedly realized that every set of eyes in the establishment had fixed themselves… on him.

Feeling his cheeks grow warm from their scrutiny, Lou sidled over to the bar where Benny had secured two tall, vacant stools, and was speaking to the bartender who nodded along to the order.

Sliding into his seat, Lou pretended to be studying the labels of the bottles along the wall to better avoid the unwanted attention he was receiving.

“Where were you living before coming to Oxby, Brother?” Benny queried sociably.

“At Belahe Abbey.”

“Oh, isn’t that one of the larger abbey’s in the empire?”

Lou managed to force himself to meet Benny’s earnest gaze. “They are, yes.”

“Coming from such a grand place, how do you find Oxby?” the bartender interjected, his expression polite but his eyes glinting with interest.

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“I’d hardly call Belhae grand. While the grounds are extensive, the monastery itself is quite humble– which is how those that praise the gods try to live.”

His answer made the bartender’s eyes turn dull. “Ah.”

“How did your family feel about you becoming a monk?” Benny pressed, naturally helping the conversation along as the bartender plucked two steel mugs with rounded handles from beneath the bar, and turned to a nearby ale barrel. He leaned the stump where his right arm used to be on the lever to pour the drinks.

“Not the best, but not the worst either… My mother always wanted me to settle down somewhere nearby. My siblings moved farther away with their spouses, and so they wanted to have one of their children nearby with grandchildren. My father understood my choice but… was worried. I joined the temple when I was a lot older than most monks.”

“Why did you join so late?” the bartender asked next as he slid two mugs with frothy caps across the bar.

“Well… I did try to find someone to settle down with, but no matter where I went or who I met, it just never seemed like I fit in quite right. So on my way back from visiting a cousin of mine, I stopped in at the monastery– it was near Polate’s Feast Day, so I went to pray and offer a small tribute, and I struck up a conversation with the abbot there. Next thing I know, I’m begging temple representatives to let me join Belhae Abbey as a monk.” The memory brought a smile to Lou’s face.

The bartender and Benny shared a look of enjoyment over the story and the warm expression it brought to the monk’s face.

“Have you ever regretted it?” Benny took a sip from his ale, the foam sticking to his upper lip that he instantly sucked off.

The question gave Lou pause. His mind and heart falling quiet as the soft noise of the tavern filled the space his silence created.

“I can honestly say… that everything I have done and chosen, was done because my instincts told me it was the right thing to do, and to this day, they’re telling me that it was still the right decision. No matter how many gripes it’s given me thus far.”

He turned with a frown and thoughtful smile to face his ale more head on before lifting it and taking a drink.

The taste made his tongue prickle with the bubbles, but it was cool, and refreshing… There was even a hint of a vanilla note that was rather enjoyable.

“Well, Brother Lou. I have to say, I wasn’t all that inclined to go to your sermon’s, but you’re proving to be an interesting fellow. My name’s Jack Macaphery, I own this pub with my wife, Elorin.”

Lou shook the man’s hand. “Good to meet you.”

A chorus of shouts near the fireplace drew Jack’s attention then, making him eye the group of soldiers that had started to sing a familiar pub song at the top of their lungs with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.

“Pardon me, I think a few cups may be empty over there.”

Once the tavern keeper had taken his leave to go tend to the rest of his customers, Lou found himself taking the time to settle into his realization that he didn’t regret joining the temple, even though that decision was giving him all sorts of headaches.

“So, Benny, do you live on the farm with your parents? Any siblings?” The monk shook himself free from his thoughts.

“Just my mum and I currently. My father passed away last summer.”

Lou’s head snapped around to stare at the young man who was drinking his ale casually.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Benny set down his pint and smiled sadly. “Thank you. He was healthy as can be so I never saw it coming. My mother hasn’t been taking it well, unfortunately.”

The monk’s heart twisted in his chest. “That is a hard burden to take on alone.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Benny was interrupted when an angry holler broke out over the tavern.

“Oyy! I said I’m not workin’ tomorrow! Doesn’ matter if I have another bottle!” came the heavily slurred words of one of the soldiers whose glassy eyes were trying to fix themselves on Jack, who, despite being at least half a foot shorter than the man, stood straight.

Lou tensed. That damnable burning instinct in him began to awaken.

It was exactly what he had feared happening in the tavern.

“Henry, you’ve lost all your coin during the last round of cards. Go home to Rita,” one of the other soldiers stood up and clapped a hand on his comrade’s shoulder.

Henry threw it off. “I got the coin at home! Is fine!”

“Sorry, Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Jack tilted his chin down politely, his gaze calm despite the threatening atmosphere.

The drunken soldier wasn’t having it, so he seized his friend’s drink, and downed it.

“Hey, now. I was drinking tha-”

Letting out an impressive belch, Henry threw his arms out interrupting his friend’s objection. “See? Perfectly fine!”

Jack’s lips pursed. “Henry, it’s time to go home. I’d hate to have to get Crimmins involved.”

The room had fallen quiet as everyone watched and waited to see what would happen next.

“Pardon me.”

The crowd had been so transfixed on the scene that none of them had even noticed the monk’s approach.

Henry and Jack both turned to stare at Lou.

Those of the more sober variety noticed a restlessness about the holy man as his hands remained clasped tightly together in front of his robes, and his facial features appeared frozen. “I have my cart outside if you would like a ride home, Mr…?”

“Name’s Gordon, Private Gordon.” Henry stumbled as he scowled blearily at Lou. “An’ I don’t need a ride. I can walk, perf*hic*ectly fine. But! I’m stayin’ for one more bottle, an’ then I’m headin’ home! Now all of yous!” He pointed his finger and did a half turn about the room before facing Jack and Lou again. “Mind your business.”

“It’s alright, Brother Lou. You enjoy your ale. It isn’t the first time,” Jack murmured with a polite half smile.

The humming in Lou was getting worse.

He had the awful premonition that a new power was about to unleash, but… He wanted to help.

At the very least, as a priest of Reckish, he should be able to be of assistance to people in small situations such as these…

“How about you and I take a walk together, Private Gordon?” he tried again.

Henry stumbled over and thrust a finger in Lou’s face. “Jus’ cause you work for the temple, don’ mean you can tell me what to do.”

The scent of ale and whiskey wafted into Lou’s face on the back of Henry’s breath, making his hands curl into fists; he felt something big brewing within his belly.

The soldier turned his back on the monk and started to half shove his comrade farther down the bench to make room for him

“Private Gordon,” Lou began again, his anger pronounced in the rasp of his voice.

“Whaat?” Henry turned with a smirk.

Lou opened his mouth, but before he could get another word out, the longest, loudest, gut wrenching fart that he had ever felt in his life broke free of his arse.

It went on so long, that Henry’s expression transitioned from smugness, to shock, to genuine concern for the monk.

Lou felt all words and thoughts die within his being, as the air practically rang at the end of his impromptu wind break.

Then, the entire pub burst out in uproarious laughter, leaving Lou to close his eyes, and his face scarlet red as he raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Alright. I might have some regrets about joining the temple…

Damn you, Tivera. Damn you.