The tavern was called “Eevi’s.” It wasn’t the finest establishment of drink in the city, but it was far from the worst and attracted loyal clientele, along with the usual trader tourists. As there was little to do in Ash other than drink or pray, at night many would flock to taverns and attempt to do both.
Eevi’s stood at the northeast edge of the city, where the mud brick settlements faded away into pebbles. Outside of Eevi’s, many would watch the sunset and pray for a cold night before settling in for a drink or a dozen. The building itself was a modestly sized outpost that distinguished itself with its teak wooden door. As teak only came from the faraway woods of Merkamensa, it was a sign of sophistication and care that few of Eevi’s patrons ever appreciated. Jere and Appo certainly didn’t as they pushed their way through the door.
The first thing Appo noticed was how quiet it was. Many taverns across Ostior appreciated ambiance and hired musicians to fill the gaps between conversations. Strings of the kantele, the sitar, or the harp would sing their beautiful melodies in harmony with the laughter and the brawling. Appo had been to a few taverns along the coast in his youth and remembered how he couldn’t hear himself think over the ceaseless shanties and shrieking woodwinds. Here however, there was nothing in the air other than isolated laughter and the pouring of drinks.
“Apparently culture doesn’t exist this far north,” Appo thought.
The tavern’s patrons wore dusty and indistinct garb, which couldn’t have looked more different than the meretricious robes of the traders and the Holiday crowd. These were the people of the desert, who worked and toiled in unbearable heat to earn just enough coin to spend their nights here. Some stood out, like the massive hairy fellow who roared with laughter and spat in a language Appo couldn’t understand. Most were quietly sipping their ale, though.
Jere led Appo to the tavern, leaning over the counter. Behind the counter stood a tall dark-skinned woman with a mesh of curly black hair tucked away into a long ponytail. She was especially muscular for a woman, and she walked with an upright and proud posture. Under her right eye was a series of three downward triangles tattooed into her cheekbone. Her face was pronounced and toned; she would’ve been beautiful were it not for the massive black scar that took up much of the left side of her face.
The woman locked eyes with Jere for a moment before turning to Appo. “Earlier than usual, Jere,” she said. “I didn’t know you were capable of making friends.”
“You always know just what to say, Eevi.”
Eevi grinned, seemingly well-acquainted with Jere's brusque personality. She produced a mug of ale for Jere and turned to Appo. “What can I get for you, stranger?”
Appo felt how dry his tongue was before answering. “Just water for now. Clean, preferably.”
Jere quickly corrected him. “Get the healer a mug of ale, for Okkan's sake.”
“A healer?” Eevi chuckled. “Definitely a stranger, then. I’ll get you something I know healers like.” She moved away, leaving the two to themselves. Jere took his ale and moved to a nearby table. Appo followed his lead and sat down.
“Bold of you to order clean water in Ash,” Jere said as he took a sip from his mug. “Might as well order from the top shelf, it’ll cost the same. You can’t get rid of thirst here.”
Appo fidgeted in his chair. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted alcohol and was nervous as to what Eevi was bringing out to him. If he was completely honest, he was still shaken from his journey to the cells. He kept seeing extended arms and distended jaws. He had been poring over his brain to find something that would explain the symptoms, any combination that would make sense. Nothing came to mind.
Jere caught him lost in thought. “If you plan on talking work, I’ll leave. It’s an inconvenient situation. Worry about it tomorrow.”
“How can this not be on your mind? I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since the cells. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’m not sure what’s got you riled up, healer?” Jere’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Boah’s figured it out. It’s a curse. Dies with the old woman. Problem solved.”
“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”
Jere took a large gulp of his ale and exhaled. “I don’t know.” His eyes looked away, lost in his own thoughts. “I killed a man this morning. A good man. That’s all I know.”
Appo wasn’t sure how to respond. He was distracted. He knew who he had to talk to, and where to go from there. He didn’t need to discuss it now. And it was true: Jere had acted as both the priest and the executioner. Perhaps there was a reason the two of them were in this tavern tonight. In the end, Appo pursued a different line of questioning. “When you say ‘far south’, you exaggerate, correct? I can imagine you hailing from the steppe or even the savanna, but I can’t imagine how one could travel that sort of distance in one lifetime.”
Jere took another sip. “I grew up cold, healer. I was raised in a world where it never stops snowing, where the pine obscures the stars, and the sun is a distant relative. When I say the far south, I meant it.”
Appo was intrigued. The surest sign of strength was the ability to travel, and from what Jere had suggested he must have traveled the entire expanse of Ostior. Appo had never seen snow before and could never imagine a world where it could be cold enough to produce it. “You must be strong.” He found himself blurting out words again.
Jere slapped his palm on the table. He gave his classic sly grin. “You don’t know half of it, healer.”
At that moment, Eevi arrived at the table. She was carrying several mugs and glasses, showing impressive dexterity. She dropped two things for Appo; a mug full of water, and a small glass full of a clear liquid that smelled of petroleum. Appo was all too familiar with the smell, as he carried a flask of it around his belt just in case of an emergency. Spirits were helpful for the prevention of bloodrot.
“Careful,” Jere said to Eevi, “the water may be too strong for this one.”
Appo had had enough. He had been reaching for the water, but instead grabbed the small glass and swallowed the entirety of the liquid. An intense burn hit his tongue and throat. It tasted horrible, but it was quickly followed by a soothing sensation that hit his entire body with a shiver. He showed Eevi two raised fingers.
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Jere chuckled. “Huh. Not bad.”
Appo stuck out his tongue and collected himself. “I was once a priest, mercenary. I never claimed to be priestly.”
Jere laughed and raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.” He took another swig. Appo could see that there was a chance Jere may be a light drinker.
Eevi returned with two more small glasses of the spirit. Appo waited for Jere to take another swig of his ale before pushing one of the glasses across the table. Both raised them again, and both grimaced as they swallowed the spirit.
“When did you become consecrated, Appo?” Jere sputtered. “With your strange… disease god.”
“I pledged to Lowya during my apprentice years. Before I traveled up the Thorne, I studied seminary in Jyväsk.”
“I knew you looked like cityfolk.”
Appo chuckled. “It’s the greatest city in the world. No monsters, no famine, no sunstroke. Just an incompetent bureaucracy… and occasional pirate raids.”
Jere slurped what was left of his ale. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Appo was starting to feel his drink, and the words began to spill out. “When I was a lad, I worshiped Lord Atta like many others in Jyväsk. I don’t anymore. Once I moved away from priesthood and towards medicine, I figured it was my duty to improve upon my craft as much as I can. My faith in the gods is there, but outside of my profession I rarely call upon it.”
“And what challenged your faith, healer?” Jere leaned in slightly.
Appo realized that may not be drunk enough yet to tell his entire life story. “I suppose I’ll tell you that when you tell me what challenged yours, Jere.”
Jere put down his drink. He was annoyed but attempted to hide it. “Then I won’t know. As long as you do your job.” He waved over Eevi, who made it over in her usual diligent fashion. “I’ll take another ale, he’ll take another ale, and get us two more shots each.” He gestured to Appo. “Make sure he pays. And if he orders another water there’s going to be trouble.”
Appo couldn’t help but laugh. Jere was quite the entertaining drinker. He wondered how much of his personality he hadn’t seen outside of his hardened mercenary exterior. He certainly hadn’t seen the priest in him. Still, he figured he needed to slow down. The last thing he needed to do was embarrass himself publicly. “Just one shot, Eevi, if you don’t mind.”
Jere shook his head. “Okay never mind, I’ll pay for that one shot. The one he doesn’t want.” He slapped down some loose change. “He’s getting it regardless.”
Eevi chuckled at the considerable increase in coin she was soon to receive. She picked up the empty glasses and turned to Appo. “I’m surprised a healer isn’t more intrigued by spirits.”
“If I had any self-respect I wouldn’t even be drinking. I should save them for an accident. It’s hard to drink them without thinking of gangrene. That being said, I’m impressed by your product, I’m curious to know how you distilled it.”
If Appo were being completely honest, this was one of the worst spirits he had tried in his years of traveling. Still, he was impressed that distilled alcohol even existed in the desert. He thought only ale and wine traveled that far. He could also turn on the charm quickly with a little in his system. It seemed to work, as Eevi decided to engage. “I have a distillation kit in the back. This is actually a spirit of my own concoction. It’s much more affordable overall. I’m surprised you like it, most people don’t really care for it out here. In fact, most people don’t even know what ‘distillation’ really means.”
Jere stared blankly past the two. He hadn’t heard the word ‘distillation’ before.
Appo thanked Eevi and let her return behind the bar. Jere leaned over the table. “Don’t let her kindness fool you. Eevi has a more interesting story to tell than either of us.” Jere put his hand on the table, trying to keep himself balanced.
When Eevi returned with the drinks, Appo took up the bait. “So Eevi, have you always tended bar?”
“No. In another life, I was once a raider.”
Appo hadn’t been expecting that. He had been fortunate enough to avoid raider attacks throughout his travels along the Thorne but had heard about them frequently and he often treated their aftermath. Raiders were notorious for their ferociousness and were the reason why mercenaries such as Jere held the jobs they did. From the stories Appo had heard, raiders were almost inhuman, and some people doubted they were really from Ostior. Still, this woman’s appearance almost seemed to collaborate with her story. Her being a raider would certainly explain the scars and her toned appearance.
“Interesting… How does a raider become a bartender in a town like Ash?”
As she leaned over the chair, Eevi folded her arms, showcasing a variety of tattoos and scars along her forearms. “Well, healer, I hail from the steppe. At least, that’s where I was born. Many raiders come from there. When I was young, I knew only the nomadic life. Raise cattle, feed cattle, butcher cattle. That was all I did. I was miserable, my parents were miserable, and my brothers and sisters were miserable. I was destined to marry a miserable suitor and sire a litter of miserable children who would go off to do what my family had done for generations. I decided that wasn’t the life for me, so I packed three moons of supplies and wandered north. Better to be dead there than alive on the steppe. On the third moon, as I ran out of food and was preparing to die, I encountered a tribe of raiders.”
Eevi looked to the ceiling, recollecting her story with clarity. “The raiders had their way with me, as they did with most women. I cried, but I never expired. They had planned to sell me as a slave, but they saw I could hold my own against the other boys. I could shoot a bow, and I could use a knife. Eventually, they decided I would be a welcome addition to their tribe. Once there, I thrived. I rose the ranks and came to control my own band. We pillaged and ravaged settlements on the steppe. Eventually, we reached the home of my family. We pillaged and ravaged them just the same. I killed my brother as he defended his children. We moved on to the next village.”
“Eventually we came to realize that supplies were more plentiful in the desert than they were in the steppe, so I made the decision to join the raiders up here. Supply lines were easy pickings, you see. We could become rich off a single plunder, but soon that wasn’t enough. We wanted more and became greedy. I had fought off insurrections more than a few times, but it was a constant struggle. Men would overthrow me. I was raped many times, but when I stabbed them, they never got back up again. I was tortured. I was burned.” Eevi pointed to her charred cheek. “Yet, I would always get back in control.”
Appo was appalled by the graphic detail Eevi spoke with. He wasn’t sure how much of this story he was supposed to believe, but Eevi spoke so matter-of-factly that it appeared she wasn’t even trying to impress them. She told her story in declarative bursts with little flair. Appo took another shot of the spirit.
“I found myself in charge of several bands of raiders. I wasn’t a queen, but for them I might as well have been. Men laid down their lives for me. I had several children, some of whom will one day become impressive leaders in their own right. I had taken my life into my own hands and became something new. I was rich. I was powerful. I was a killer.”
“At some point I realized that I had committed my whole life to the raider lifestyle. I knew nothing outside of it. I killed those who disagreed with me and knew little outside of my bands. I realized I was still miserable, like my parents before me. They spent their entire lives siring cattle and cattle herders. I spent my entire life siring raiders and killers. I was no different. Eventually, I had enough with it all and left. I packed up supplies for three moons and walked back into the desert. I left most of the coin to my tribe, but I took just enough to manage. The first place I came to was Ash, where I bought out this building and turned it into a tavern.”
Eevi’s story ended with the same unapologetic tone she held throughout. Appo wasn’t sure what he was supposed to glean from the story. Eevi told her life, plain and simple. She got up from the chair and stretched her arms. “I’m sorry boys, I didn’t mean to ramble. Not too many people care to ask about me. I’ll get you some more ale, my treat.” She returned behind the bar.