A Treasure Trove of Obscure Thoughts

The End of the Adventure

Here is another original of mine. This is actually the preface to a book I am working on. I have just started it, so I can’t tell you how it’s going, but I have high hopes.


 

“Well, that was a good day’s work,” stated a young man in splendid armor.

“Yeah, you would say that,” replied a gruff looking dwarf busy scrubbing at a greave. “You didn’t have to crawl from under the carcass of a dead Giant. I’ll never get the smell out of my Armor.”

“Oh, you’re just upset because I got in the killing blow. If you weren’t so busy hacking at his hamstrings you’d have noticed he was falling right on top of you.”

“Well, if you’d look around to what the rest of us are doing, before you start swinging that big toothpick, then perhaps…..”

“Are you two still at it,” interrupted the third member of their party, as he seated himself at the table. “I’d have thought the two of you would have settled your differences over the long ride back into town. Here, Saienci, I found you a nice elven wine,” he said sliding a glass in front of the young man. “And for our dear, Brak, I’m afraid they don’t carry any dwarven ale, but they do have a very strong dark stout. The proprietor tells me it may not be quite as strong as what your used to, but he has enough of it to fill even your bottomless thirst.” As he said this he indicated to a young serving girl behind him who placed a small cask and an earthenware mug in front of the dwarf.

The dwarf, in his turn, smiled and waved the mug away. He proceeded to pop the bung hole with his dagger and up turned the cask directly into his waiting mouth. A few minutes later he came up for air, a huge grin on his craggy face, “Well, Hrom, I’ll say one thing for you monks, for being human, you do know your drink.”

“Why thank you,” replied Father Hrom, “It comes from being cloistered. You spend all day going over musty tomes, then go back to a eight by eight room for the night. After a few years of this you’d be completely nuts if you didn’t have something else to fill the spaces. Thus we drink, inebriation is the only thing that keeps us sane. ”

“My sentiments exactly,” muttered Brak, as he upturned the cask a second time. “Girl, another,” he roared across the busy barroom a moment later as he brought the now empty cask down hard on the table.

They continued their conversation long into the night. The girl keeping a steady supply of drink going to their table, and every now and then a slice of mutton or beef. The proprietor was somewhat taken aback at the quantity, but then the Mayor had said not to worry about the bill, just send it over to the clerk’s office in the morning. After all, they had saved the town. The giant had been roaming the countryside for months, attacking farms and homesteads. It was only a matter of time before he’d decide to come into the town proper. If it hadn’t been for these three, there might not have been a town in the near future. So, he was more than happy to supply them all the food and drink they’d require.

Somewhere in the early morning hours the three made their way to their rooms upstairs for a much needed respite. It wouldn’t be until nearly noon before the first one would roll out of bed, much refreshed and ready for the next adventure.

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