Throughout the story, Jere had finished half of his ale and taken both of his shots. He leaned over the table, swaying from side to side. “Like I said, healer. Good with the stories.”

“You don’t believe that she was lying, do you?”

Jere was beginning to slur his words as he worked on the remainder of his ale. “Listhen, I want to make somethin’ very clear to ya.” He held up two fingers. “There are two types of people in this world. There are people who can’t fight, and there ar’ people who are natural storyte’ers. Everyone in this world wants to be a kil’er. It’s good fo’ business.”

Appo couldn’t imagine why someone would make up a story the way Eevi just did. Maybe he was a little more trusting while he was intoxicated, but Appo couldn’t detect lying when she spoke.

Although Jere was getting drunker as the night went on, it appeared he could still read Appo’s mind. “Yo’ think I’m fulla shit, aren’t ya? Well, I want ya to takea lookie over at the big fella.” Jere pointed at the loud hairy man. The man had three empty mugs on his table and was asking Eevi for a fourth. He shared the table with two others who looked at him in awe. “Tink he’s tough? I’ll show ya just ‘ow tough ee really is.”

Before Appo could stop him, Jere rushed out of his chair and plodded across the room to the hairy man’s table. Jere thrust his hands on the table, looking directly at the hairy man. He glared into his eyes. “Ay, what’s your name, fella?”

The hairy man was also intoxicated, if not more so than Jere. His eyes were drooping, and he was holding onto the table. Still, he was massive. He looked much more like a stereotypical world traveler than Jere; his arms were large enough to wrestle a bull, and his beard was braided into intricate knots. He oozed confidence, and the fact he sat next to a giant hammer indicated he probably knew how to use it. Appo was terrified at what may happen.

“Kostya,” the hairy man growled.

“Ahhhh, Kostya,” Jere raised his hands as though he were about to punch. “That’sa name I can beat in a fair fight. What say ya?”

Kostya chugged the last of his ale and rose from his chair, pushing away from the table in the process. He stood at least a head taller than Jere and was twice as wide. He wasn’t quite as muscular as Appo thought, for his belly looked like ale was his preferred choice of drink. Still, with the weight difference alone, Appo knew Jere didn’t stand a fighting chance.

Eevi approached the two holding her usual amounts of mugs and glasses. “Alright boys,” she said “if you have a problem, I only ask you take it outside. Let the guards deal with your drunk asses.”

Jere held up his hand to Eevi. “Iz okay madam, this’ll be ‘ver soon.”

“I’m going to see another man die today,” Appo thought.

Jere looked up at Kostya and approached him. He gazed down at his feet before moving up to his head, judging his size. He stepped forward, looking as though he was about to throw a punch, getting right under Kostya’s nose.

He never threw a punch. Instead, Jere tilted his head. “Where are ya from, Kostya?”

Kostya raised an eyebrow. “West. Beyond mountain.” He spoke with a thick accent. He hadn’t quite learned the local language just yet.

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Jere stepped back. “Beyon da moundains? You’ a traveler as well, then?

“Da.”

“‘Ow far beyon da moundains?”

“Far. Very far.”

Appo was perplexed. Both men were drunker than anyone else in the room. They were just about to throw punches. The two could barely speak. Yet here they were, having a conversation.

“Do tell,” Jere slurred. “Ow does un get pass da moundains? No one comes from da west.”

Kostya grinned. He stuck out his chest and looked past Jere. “I strong. Very strong. Secret weapon.”

Jere leaned in. “Do tell.”

“Passage not safe for man. Passage safe for bear. I become bear.”

Now it was Jere’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Come again?” Appo and Eevi watched from the side, utterly confused.

Kostya continued. “I am bear. One hundred moons, I am bear. Sleep, hunt, fish, I do all. Make to desert. Come here. Become man again.”

Jere searched Kostya’s face with intent. The two men swayed in unison. There was a moment of silence. Jere slowly raised his arm and placed it on Kostya’s shoulder. He began laughing. It was a bellowing laugh that caused Jere to wheeze. Kostya was puzzled at first, but then he started to giggle. Suddenly, both men were wheezing from laughter. The crowd that had gathered to watch a fight break out had only just begun to catch on, and then they too started laughing. Laughter echoed off the walls of the tavern.

“I like you, crazy man,” Kostya said, “come drink.” He invited Jere to the empty seat at the table, which Jere took readily. Appo followed, flabbergasted by what just took place.

At that point, the night became a blur. Drinks were drunk, stories were told, and camaraderie was shared all around. Everyone slurred drunkenly; although the language wasn’t clear the intention often was. The tavern became loud with frequent uproarious laughter. Soon Jere and Kostya were falling out of their seats. Appo, standing from afar most of the night, eventually had to drag a drunken Jere off the ground. The night was over, and most of the patrons had left by this point.

Appo slung Jere’s ragdoll body across his shoulder. As he did so, he looked up to notice a man sitting in the far corner of the tavern. Appo recognized his silver beard and his silver eyepatch: it was the blind man he had seen earlier that morning. He was leaning back in his chair, cane at the side, with his blue eye shut. He was snoring loudly.

By this point, Eevi was herding her patrons out of the tavern. Kostya had long ago been carried away by his two companions, while Jere was doing his best to not retch. Before Appo left however, he inquired to Eevi about the blind man.

“His name is Isbibarra. He comes here often. Drinks water and smokes some foreign herb. I let him sleep here because he keeps the beggars away. Nice fella, doesn’t say much.”

Appo couldn’t help himself. “I have to know… Is the man blind?”

Eevi laughed. “If you’ve seen his eye you would know.” Jere, leaning on Appo’s back, began to burp. “You better get him home before he makes a mess of the place. Also…” Eevi held out her hand. Appo forgot he was supposed to pay.

The thoughts of the blind man evaporated as Appo struggled to collect the appropriate amount of coin. He was dismayed – it was a good chunk of what he had on him. Appo nodded to Eevi and dragged the limp Jere out of the tavern.

The night was still humid, but the air was far cooler than when the two entered earlier. Jere mostly spoke in jumbled grunts, but he was able to direct Appo to a nearby domicile. The two were drunk, though Appo much less so. They somehow opened the door, lurched into the darkness, and fumbled their way through the home. Appo dropped Jere on his bed, and fumbled around for another cushion. He couldn’t find any, feeling only clothes on the ground. He figured that was good enough. He was used to sleeping on hard mud floors, and with the extra alcohol in him he wouldn’t have much difficulty falling asleep.

Just as Appo was getting comfortable, Jere let out an elongated chuckle. “Told ya… Got em.”

Appo was falling fast asleep and wasn’t in the mood for a discussion. “What do you mean? You never fought him? You just drank with him.”

“Exacty,” mumbled Jere, “That’s why I alwas win.”

The two passed out simultaneously.