Chapter 1

  Wandering Wizard

  Hitting rock bottom means you fell from somewhere.

  A bit obvious, but to hear it every so often to remind yourself of the bittersweet truth of that phrase. No matter how bad it is, it can always get a lot worse.

  First, he was taken to the wrong place, & not to the wrong street, he was taken to the wrong city! Instead of going south he wound up being taken North to a frozen tundra.

  “That’s it! I'm stuck!” That was some of the last of his coin after buying new equipment, supplies & anything left would take him to somewhere that is not the apparent capital like one of the three small towns nearby then have nothing left.

  “Ffffuuck!” Oskar groaned

  Not very elegant understandably but how would you feel being taken to a place that was on the complete other side of the continent? & so. Cold went through his clothes & anything exposed froze stiff in seconds. He inhaled the freezing air & took in his environment as he refreshed himself to the five C’s drilled into him, he sighed before muttering “Cool, Calm, Collected Confident, Competent” like a mantra “Okay, fine! If this is my fresh start, so be it.”

  Summer has not made it this far yet so that’s something to look forward to, & he could feel it, the winter here is a bit deep, given he wasn’t not in tropical clothes, but he was not dressed for a brutal winter climate up north.

  Before he knew it, the shock finally passed & Oskar was facing a city guard by the front gate. Now the sun tanned elf wasn’t short in elven standards but to a half giant definitely, & that was where he was, the average man or woman was seven feet tall & with the winter attire made imposing figures, however, there were a myriad of other races typically like the half giants to that were many variants in race & heights which lead to a bustle to the city of utility,

  “Okay let's do this, fresh start Oskar.”

  The guard was tall, given Oskar was no short stack, but this guy was big even without the armour, & came across as someone who would hold his position even in a blizzard & or against an army of giants, a pillar of calm fury to those that dare to harm his city.

  The armour he wore was a shade of matte silver & cobalt blue with some kind of padding where the metal would regularly touch the skin, he carried a spear with a sword holstered to his side however, there was a leather band wrapped binding the sword guard to the sheath, that established it to not be drawn, a rare quality in discipline.

  His eyes caught Oskar staring at it, he kept staring until he looked back to his eyes, Oskar’s blood froze & not from the cold anymore he commanded the Elfs complete attention with just his presence. He spoke softly like tempered steel.

  “Papers & reason for arriving.” The guard's voice, it was deep, despite the helmet he was wearing, it was clear, soft & stoic as if the cold didn’t bother him.

  Oskar didn’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is most likely going to be, so doing so, pulling from his backpack, withdrawing his travel papers & grimacing.

  “Here you go sir” Oskars voice held a modicum of calm, the elf gave the folder to the guard.

  He unwrapped the leather binder containing all the necessary travel papers for traveling to other nations. Here comes the hard part. He had the wrong papers

  “I was heading south to Atherus but the driver he hired took me here, & on that note” Oskar braced himself for the answer to nis next question. “Where am I?”

  The guard read through Oskars papers & even in the cold he began to sweat. As he looked over to the stop where carriages & wagons are held for processing, the guard turned his head back to meet my eyes. They carried sympathy.

  If he was really up north this could be bad

  “Recite your full name, your occupation & reason of travel” his tone unfazed & never wavering

  Was he just unbothered by me? He thought

  His sharp eyes read every word of my multi page document. & Oskar did as he asked

  “Oskar Zarrius Lotusfall, Wizard of no affiliation, & um, Pilgrimage in search of adventure” Oskar said more than a little embarrassed

  He gave the wizard the papers back after he gingerly rewrapped the documents in the leather binder. He took a step to the side & picked up his spear that he leaned against the gate wall

  “Off you go” The guard said

  “Wait, that’s it?” Oskar asked confused

  He nodded & gestured ‘Go on in’ with his head.

  "There are braziers throughout the city, use those to stay warm as you traverse” He pointed out the first one with his spear. It was being tended to by another city guard.

  The Elf fixed his wide brimmed pointed hat identifying him as a wizard in tradition. Taking the opportunity he leaned against the wall for support & began pulling out his travel blanket using it as a makeshift coat. The elf’s long-pointed ears burned from the cold, the tips were already turning a painful pink.

  Being from a more tropical place, Oskar had stark contrast to the locals, from my olive tanned skin to my clothes. The guard saw & nodded in approval.

  Confidence died before he got too far.

  The gate guard's voice halted him as he called back “Norroval!” his voice as if the city was invoked by the name & realization struck.

  Oskar stopped & now my panic returned, no longer shivering Oskar turned back. his eyes fixed on the gatekeeper once more

  “I beg your pardon?” Oskar asked softly in shock

  He nodded solemnly “That's where you are, Norroval” He said with conviction

  Forgetting his surroundings & his volume Oskar began to panic again & bellowed “The great Astran Ast-Rahn Kingdom of the North!” he asked far too loudly

  “That is correct Sir Wizard” He said respectfully maintaining his unbothered calm.

  Just as Oskar was a few short metres away, it happened

  Slip,

  White noise was all Oskar could hear, see, & taste as the air left his lungs. He landed on an ice mound the size of a fist, the apex collided with his ribs. The sound made from ice to flesh made even the stoic guard wince.

  The moment Oskar was cognitive again he panicked even more, “Shit” He yelled as the Wizard checked his bag. He closed his tearing eyes once they met the two broken vials full of herbs that took him hours TO PUT TOGETHER!

  That was the second thing. The contents were ready to be mixed ingredients for a set of high-grade mana & healing potions. Months, took, fucking, months. Oskar didn’t want to make them until he had the right brewing equipment or an alchemist to help.

  He need to get up & get warm, the snow melting into his clothes now,

  “Get up” A familiar voice called as a hand pulled me to my feet.

  Oh it’s the guard again, what was his name? Oskar didn’t think he got it.

  “What is your name?” Oskar asked

  The guard looked at me with those piercing amber eyes, huh human. Not just by his eyes but he had taken off his helmet, short brown hair with slightly pale complexion & a short maintained beard, he dusted me off & answered.

  “Blake. My name is Blake” He said, gently letting go once he had his footing.

  Committed to memory & assurance that Oskar would make it through the rest to the city he headed to one of the many braziers. After a long minute of walkingI made it, the warmth drew others, & he looked around after finally getting warm enough to think clearly.

  The buildings were built with care & intended to last the ages. Tall, dark wooden structures made from white clay, red brick, & sloped clay tiled roofs. Others had a flat top for patios or fortresses.

  It was past noon but the sun was already falling behind the enormous black mountain engulfing the city in shadow, & just like that night came soon after. It was a clear night shining with stars, the wind carrying the heat from the braziers across the city as shops, taverns, & other evening establishments began to illuminate in a variety of ways from tinted lanterns to magic glow stones

  “Beautiful” Oskar muttered

  “Isn’t it?” a second voice chimed in, it was a deep & low, a man's voice

  Oskar turned quickly & was instantly facing a burly chest at his eye level, craning his head, his eyes trained on the tusks, was he an Orc? No, a half Orc maybe? Regardless, he was huge,at least seven feet tall. What is with the North, are they all Half Giants? Against the coming night the firelight illuminated his ashen green skin, most of his details were hidden under clothing suited for the weather. They both shared a moment & looked towards the sky, clouds covered most but a few stars & then their eyes tuned, following down the snow packed street. A small squad of guards roaming giving all who made eye contact respectful nods & smiles including the tall man beside Oskar. Norroval appeared to have an active militaristic influence within the city with a monarch & Northern was the capital of Astra. The buildings were either tall single floor houses or two to three story buildings built from wood, stone & a distinct red clay. Those appeared to have business, offices & apartments, the latter being usually on the second to third floors.

  Magic glow stones dotted the streets among the wall torches & braziers, each gem was illuminating a variety of colours from greens, blues yellows & reds, some appeared to mark a specific establishment

  “Amazing” Oskar gasped

  “Mmhmm” the man agreed then continued, “It helps that the crown is also the battle queen, Its is said she gained recognition from the Jotun of storms”

  Oskar peered up “Wait, I heard of that. That was her? the General of ice & stone is the Queen of Norroval?”

  The man nodded “petty crime still happens but anything that would cause a disturbance it gets taken care of quickly. Not just the Guards, the Adventurers guild field many that will step in”

  ‘Incredible’ Oskar thought

  Oskar was in Norroval, & after that the wizard asked as much as he could from this new stranger. His name was Cal, a local butcher & he apparently liked to play info-guide, he was of the western Orc decent, the distinct is wide shoulders, his other half were of sea Jotunn, a coastal oceanic giant clan. The tall gentleman answered questions & explained life in Norroval. The city was a well-known militaristic powerhouse & a decent sized nation if you examined its borders along with loose friendly relations with the Uru-Teaga belt in the south & Lumaria ‘Leu-mare-ria’, countries in the east.

  Oskar felt in his pockets till he found the money pouch & did a light thump with his left boot, the coin slid in & sat flush in the sole.

  “You wouldn’t know a place to stay for a few nights, preferably cheap but still good?’

  After more than one recommendation & too many directions Oskar found himself in one of the places suggested. A townhouse inn called the Bladed Grass. As he entered it was a stark contrast to outside & was caught off guard. Oskars boots hit metal, stopped, & looked down, grates caught the snow & it fell into a defrosting drain.

  The inn was full & finding a table was difficult, but after a group saw the lost Elf the small group had a few open seats & invited him to their table, they said nothing before examining the new stranger for a long minute. Oskar was a full blooded Elf whose darker sun tanned skin & magenta hair that could almost be missed as a black or dark brown contrasted to many whose skins resembled that of shades of fletch & stone. A reflection of the familiar ancestry most in the city had, Jotunn, a creature of powerful influence with many variations of their kin, it was believed Jotunn embodied aspects of life itself.

  A silent nod circled the group & approved of what they say, waving over a server, these folks were oddly considerate if not straightforward, They ordered quietly in tongues & pointed to Oskar & after a short minute the Barmaid came around dropping off food & an ale & more for the table, one of the looming Half-Giants beside him smiled & introduced himself.

  “Ivirn. You must be new?” Ivirn asked

  “Oskar, I just showed up today”

  The barmaid was beside him, “D’you have all you need for now, Oskar?” her voice was inviting. she was a tall & had a frame that told of life as a soldier

  “If it’s not too much trouble I'd like a room for the night. Would it be possible to stay in more than one?” Oskar asked

  The barmaid smiled “No worries, I can get you a room shortly” & like that she looked to the rest of the table.

  The others at the table placed a round of drinks & the barmaid headed off, the table including myself had seven people

  Within the six of them were two dwarves, a half giant & three half orcs. With the lighting you couldn’t fully tell the other half, some were half dwarf & the others had distant elven descent.

  The broth was hot & flavourful while the ale for the first time in a long time wasn’t stale.

  Oskar needed sleep, if not for his mind, for his body, after several weeks of transportation & now with food in his belly Oskar said his goodnights & grabbed the key to my room.

  It was small, just fitting a bed & a trunk for your stuff but it was warm, The Elf sighed, putting his hat down & finished my drink in silence, well somewhat silence. There was music & an enthusiastic crowd downstairs that made the floor under my feet rumble

  “Well, here we are. Fresh start” Oskar removed his clothes, a pair of baggy pants & a light robe wrapped around a less than athletic frame, scars scratches & bruises marred his body, evidence of a long life lived. He had layers under the robe, but the snow had soaked into them. The chimney passing through his room with heat vents became a good place to dry clothes.

  Alright time to take precautions, Oskar reached into his backpack & withdrew a wand of light brown wood & began lining the window, door, & his trunk with a thread that came from the tip of the wand, age caught on the eyes of the weary man & remembered a time he didn’t know this spell & recalled the many missing items lost through time.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  After that Oskar slumped on his bed rubbing his bruised body noting all his gear worth stealing was in the trunk, the spell would only make noise if anyone but him tried to open but that’s all, he dreaded the idea of fighting back even one of the behemoths down stairs & shuddered, elves weren’t weak, but there was a clear disparity in natural size & strength here but at least he knew one person here, Oskar never got the names of the group down stairs, a bad habit over the years but he would remember Blake the Guardsman.

  “Fresh start”

  That was the last words said before Oskar drifted off to sleep clueless he was being watched. Across the street on a building where five green figures wrapped in coats & thick scarfs sat on the handrail of a patio roof bar watching the sleeping elf through a fogging window beginning to plot their next move.

  Oskar woke up to one of the many new bruises making itself known,

  “Ouch, right then”

  eyes still bleary, water in a portable basin was brought to my room after a few minutes. This place had a bell system, strange & for such a small place however from what I’d heard last night this inn caters to folks that don’t speak the common tongue here.

  The basin of cold water had ice chunks in it

  “okay, cold dip it is, one way to acclimate I suppose”

  Oskar dunked his whole head in the bason & he sputtered, not ready for how cold this place was but the water came with a thick warm towel. They must have been sitting by the fire, -this place really was an interesting inn. Is this common practice?

  Oskar was able to get this room for a night & the old lady, uuh, Angie that was her name! She didn’t seem to mind how long he stayed as long as he was either gone by sundown or paid for a second night. It wasn't a terrible sleep & the room was clean though small but far better than some places he had questionably slept. Oskar got dressed & headed out, he let her know he might come by again, she asked if he wanted to leave his gear here while he explored the town, Oskar politely refused, she nodded & gave him a small lunch wrapped in butcher paper & refilled his waterskin with wine. The street was flooded with people coming or going along the street somewhere shovelling snow or refilling the brasiers, they seemed to burn constantly all winter

  “That’s a lot of wood to burn” Oskar said aloud

  “Hardwood” A voice called, it was gruff

  Oskar’s eyes shot to the voice on his left & for the first time since being in this city he needed to look down. His eyes were Carmel gold, sun darkened green skin with long ears

  “I’m sorry what?” Oskar asked.

  A goblin here of all places. Why should he be surprised he was here, they are the most widespread population & unlike himself.

  The goblin looked & dressed like a local. “It’s hard wood” The goblin grinned & continued “it burns slower & hotter, mix it with scrap wood & it keeps the brasiers going”

  Oskar nodded along, not sure if this guy is just friendly or is going to ask for something. he played along “I see that’s one way to do it I suppose”

  The goblin nodded sagely “You must be new to town, word spreads fast when a newcomer arrives especially an elf” The goblin said

  And there it was. Oskar just hoped it’s a stereotypical thing like can you grant me a wish? or help my crop grow?

  Full disclosure: he can't do that, some can sure. But not all elves. Oskar held his breath as the goblin continued,

  “And by the looks of it a wizard” he said excited

  ‘Oh Shit, gods help me no’ the thought turned into a prayer

  “D’ya know about the temple in town?” The goblin asked asked

  Oskar Physically shook my head, wait what.

  The two spoke for some time after that, apparently this city has an entire area devoted to Churches, temples & other focuses of faith. Why is this important? One of the said temples was actually a branch of a northern mage academy labelled as the temple of Koror,

  They were in such deep conversationOskar didn’t even realise they were walking & as doing so showed him the city or at least the 1st ring, The outer & one of five.

  Norroval was designed in five great walls called rings, not specifically in how tall they were but more how they were made.

  The Goblin's name was Targen. A city goblin who moved here from a dock town further north & he talked Oskar through the city

  By the day passed & the sun was slowly falling & the cold hit quickly, Oskar was tired. He felt the heat coming from an alley where a brasier sat with a handful of people standing around. The two turned towards the heat seeing five tall figures with their hands stretched out towards the heat,

  Oskar heard quiet muttering within the group & froze, that was Neither the common tongue nor any language spoken in town. However he knew it, it was the goblin tongue. Oskar felt a sting of apprehension as more than two voices spoke

  “How much longer till he brings this guy”

  “Shut up! I hear someone”

  “I smell Targen, get ready”

  Before Oskar knew it, he felt the sharp edge on the back of my knee & Targen knew he knew, or knew something was afoot, Oskars fingers touched the spell components stitched in my sleeve

  “Easy there elf” Targens voice was lower & cold as stone.

  Oskars spine shivered & he felt the razor sharp edge cut through my cloak & felt warm liquid trickle from the back of his knee. Now, Oskar had been robbed before & seen Goblin combat, they cripple. Go for the tendons & major muscle groups.

  In the goblin tongue Oskar spoke “On your word chief”

  Goblins didn’t waste time with too many words & what Oskar said was enough in the goblin tongue & truth be told Targen suddenly felt guilty just a little, but that didn’t stop him he had his reasons. He was Chief in this situation & In goblin culture & he smiled glad this wizard understood.

  “Bag, & out of my respect for you we won’t rough you up too bad, or take your hat.

  Oskars head sank & he removed his bag, & tipped his hat, The Wizard flung it at Targen & as fast as he could he withdrew my wand to cast a spell “Ah’lahrpha-” the spell & Oskar failed as the tall figure to his right exploded as one figure turned into three goblins “Are you serious! The three goblins in a long coat trick!?” Oskar yelled Targen smile abashed & shrugged

  With the spell cancelled they tackled Oskar to the ground & whaled on him adding to his collection of bruises, the other two figures in long coats dropped & now there were nine Goblins. The worst five minutes the elf had in a while.

  Oskar walked down the main cobblestone footpath through the city of Norroval seeing its gates of iron & stone behind him, with worn & torn robes from a long last two days, hells, day two Isn’t even over. People looked at the sorry sight, the sun tanned elven individual was an interest as he passed them all with a sour mood, bloodied nose though not broken thankfully & Bruised giving a threatening eye, however say what you want Targen did keep to his word & didn’t ruff him up as badly as they could have. Any that tried to approach him got a second thought after seeing the hat.

  Oskar murmured to myself in a gravelly voice “How the fuck did I end up getting mugged. Me, a god’s damned wizard” he hung his head & sighed, the few that heard held a pang of regret seeing the newcomer. The harsh dry evening air against his throat made him cough & others saw me as having a rough Day of an adventurer.

  The kind of people passing Oskar represented many in this city & held true to what Norroval was known for. Despite mugging him Targen did give him accurate knowledge. The citizens were a tough & proud craft people creating a wide variety for trade from architecture, armoury & alchemy, all the buildings, walls, clothing were built for utility & functionality with little & simple decor.

  A tall man Approached Oskar, he was covered from head to toe dressed in thick winter clothes consisting of shades of brown, a pair of thick boots with metal souls that gripped the snow, & a long coat that looked like it was loaded with wool.

  “A newcomer who is clearly unready for the season!” he said with honest ambivalence

  ‘Obviously, No, don’t be like that.’ Oskar thought. He took a deep breath & looked into his eyes “or simply dressed too thin too early I suppose” Oskar said trying humour

  That comment made the large man laugh “After all the winter is yet to finish for another week or so” the man was warm & kind

  Oskar looked at the man, all was covered part from the tall man’s face but he could still see his stone grey skin was covered in tattoos consisting of bold lines with deeper meanings though not enough was visible to understand it,

  ‘Not three goblins in a trench coat’ Oskar confirmed. The man leaned forwards, pulling down his scarf, he held a grin behind a thick short beard

  “Cheers & celebration to you cold one! You’ve survived thus far!” The mans hails brought more than desired attention to the already outstanding under-dressed elf,

  Oskar couldn’t help it my broke into a scowl as he looked to the large man, then his tone dropped a few octaves & softened,

  “There is a tavern inn further up the road” the man pointed to a sign showing a flying pig with its name underneath. It was called the Flying bake-inn.

  His ears drooped at this point, & they were as red as flares & burned in the cold “Oh, ah, thank you, sir, that is exactly what I am looking for” Oskar felt mechanical saying that. Then quickly added “I am Oskar by the way” he held out his hand.

  The crowd slowly continued walking but some kept their eyes on him, the tall half-giant smiled & introduced himself, “Wallberg”, grabbing Oskars hand & shaking it strongly. They were as rough as stone for that was his ancestry, Stone giants or in their tongue, Romaja.

  Oskar knew strength was a sign of honour in this land so he squeezed as hard as he could, Wallberg nodded then picked up his toolbox & proceeded on his way, his tools showing he was a stonemason of sorts as he disappeared into the crowd.

  Oskar somehow felt a little better & suddenly felt something shift, he took solace knowing he kept a few coins in his boot though barely enough to pay for a room & a hot meal in most places, but anything will do if it means getting out of this cold. Oskar took one cautious step after another both avoiding icicles from above & the solid mounds of ice that formed from them melting below, he especially hated them after one too many slips.

  Oskar stood out if not for the lack of layers it was his features, himself being an elf though that’s not too uncommon however having a more sun touched olive completion while the locals under the heavy coats, wools & furs who’s bodies had not seen the sun for the last six months he could imagine were rather pale, boots with protruding iron tread clanked whenever they hit the snow covered cobblestone street all walking with confidence knowing each step won't slip, on top of that they were physically built for hard days of labour or for war.

  Despite the bustle of people its thinned out as the exit of the Oskar followed the smell of hot food & the sounds of cheers from the patrons syphoned from the Flying bake-inn ahead, ‘Almost there’ Oskar thought to himself, ‘just a few more steps’,

  ‘slip’

  The air left his lungs as he took one step & the world spun as his worn smooth boots betrayed him as he ferociously landed directly on the apex of an ice mound onto his tailbone, clenching his teeth to a point of nearly cracking he tried desperately not to howl in pain or to cry, yet he couldn’t help tears falling, he wheezed, not getting up for a long moment, this time curling into a ball on the ground letting the snow fall on him & soaked into his clothes, his heart was racing & was getting dizzy from holding in the pain & blood pulsing through him, this was the fourth time in two days. He breathed heavily & whispered to himself “I can do this, I can do this” Oskar murmured & tried to get up & shuddered, the very vibration was agony.

  before attempting to get up & slipping over for a fifth time he just waited, blood now stained parts of the snow, the inhale of icy air felt like Oskars lungs were going to shatter as he got to one hand then slipped again cutting my fingers along the ice & stone while the rest of his body turned pink & painfully cold, those bastard goblins took his gloved too & threw them into the public brazier, that pissed off Targen & he scolded the ones who did it, that was just cruel & it was then they left, but at least they didn’t stab him.

  A voice broke through the rambling of thoughts, it was inviting “Would you like a hand up?” the man’s polite voice paused, catching Oskar off guard.

  The Elf looked up to see the offering hand through teary eyes & the dark night sky was a kaleidoscope of colourful gem light, stars & now this shadow. he couldn't tell many details, Oskar was gently pulled up by the unfamiliar voice's hand without even looking & was held upright till he could hold himself up.

  Oskars voice was harsh, scratchy & held the taste of iron. “Th-Thank you, I-I-I’ve come to realise I-I am not very well prepared for we-weather such as this” Oskar’s attempt at humour was a far cry from this morning & looking at the man in front of him.

  His eyes cleared & saw the mans moustachioed smile was the first of many things different from the rest of the locals & yet none looked at him with distance, rather an air of respect.

  Dressed as a noble butler for a lord of sorts with odd colour tones, which was normal for noble families & respected houses to have colour schemes. His boots were a fine dark leather with studded spikes bound to the soul, his coat was black wool, for his waistcoat an oak brown with orange pinstripes topped with an orange bowtie, the buttons on his waistcoat were a polished bronze with a crest shadowing a ravens kite bearing a shield.

  The Human facing him was Athletically built, trimmed & well mannered.

  “Absolutely not, the fact you are attempting to take a step out here is mad, brave but mad, it is impressive you made it this far from wherever it is you arrived” His tone was humours up-beat & full of energy, he gently let go & took a bow “My name is Arthur Ravenwood of the Harthshire Estate”

  Oskar didn’t didn’t Squeeze as hard this time & introduced himself “Os-Oskar Lotusfall from south of here, I take it you are a local here, or for business?”

  Brushing off the snow & looking further at the man in front of him now being held up by the upper arm keeping him steady

  “I am, & you appear to be heading towards The Flying Bake-inn up ahead, I so happen to be heading to just the same place” Arthur proclaimed pointing towards the tavern inn Oskar was indeed heading towards. Arthur continued “May I help you get there? All jokes aside & if you don’t mind me being candid, you look like shit, & you took a heavy fall, I wouldn’t feel right seeing you fall again, besides I’d like to ask you a few questions however that can wait until after we get you some food & a drink to warm you up”

  Bringing his arm around Arthurs’s shoulder the two both began to walk towards The Flying bake-inn. Exiting patrons held the door open & the sizable door could allow both of them to enter in abreast.

  Arthur tipped his hat to the workmen still holding the huge door open. Oskar felt the warmth from both the fireplace & the collected heat from the patrons inside as if a warm embrace from spring herself held him. Arthur took his coat off at the door & started stomping the snow off his boots, the snow fell down metal grates into a deep drain beneath, Oskar following suit as arthur was seen finding a table, folks with Dwarven blood, half-Orcs & half-giants like Wallberg filled this tavern, both Arthur & Oskar sparked the interested glances of many of the patrons though none lingered, only to see if any recognised them or to see the bleeding Elf in the pointy hat.

  The metal clanking of boots muffled by the chatter of people & timbre floors gave a pleasant change from the cloudy skies, cold winds & icy paths. The barkeeper looked to the two who entered his tavern & gave Arthur a toothy smile, he was a Half-orc who’s forest grey skin & short thumb sized tusks protruding from his lower jaw gave this towering figure with a kind smile the brought Instant authority. Being the biggest person visible he looked at Arthur like he was seeing an old friend “What can I get for you two we’ve got meads fresh in, food & ale for the cold & frail” the bartender said in a far softer & higher pitched voice than expected.

  With a clear & well-practised ease Arthur Laughed “How long have you been practising that” His cheery tone signalling business is going good,

  Oskar looked up at him & barely made it to the bartender's sternum & began shaking off his boot to retrieve the coins he had hidden.

  “Can I get something to eat & somewhere to rest with this?” Oskar placed on the table one gold piece & two silver pieces,

  The bartender took a look at him long enough for Oskar to know the tavern keeper was putting together his story.

  Without hesitation, Arthur took the attention of the Half-Orc. “Mister Brickstaff it’s been sometime & the winters been kind to you & your establishment, I would like two of your strongest drinks, a hot meal & a room for my friend Oskar here, that would be most gracious”

  Arthur placed three gold piece on the table adding to Oskars coins “We will start a tab” & slid the money to mister Brickstaff quietly,

  His smile grew even further, “Master Ravenwood, it is always good to see you, I can most certainly have that arranged” said mister Brickstaff

  “Thank you, much obliged Franklin” said Arthur with a smile,

  Oskar was puzzled but then quickly went on guard as his mind raced, not only did this man help him up but he also got him inside & now he’s paying for the food, room & drink? Something was wrong & what did he want to ask me about? Who is this man? Oskar readied himself while putting on the boot & sliding it back on. The bartender Franklyn came back with two steins of ale & two smaller mugs of heated beverages with a strong smell of spices were placed on the table.

  “Food will be ready soon, come ask for the key to your room when you are ready to head up Oskar” said Franklyn his cheerfulness unbreakable & by the looks of him, so was he.

  Oskar took note but didn’t show any distrust as he looked up at Franklyn's golden amber eyes, smiled, & then thanked him. The two sat down at a tall table, a nicer seat than the ground outside, Oskar thought to himself.

  “If you don’t mind me prying, was that all the money you had in that boot of yours?” Arthur asked, Taking a sip from the warm mug loaded with spices & looking directly at me with an inquisitive eye unblinking his tone nor demeanour changing from his up-beat nature.

  Oskar was not at all surprised at this point & nodded, straightening himself up, reading himself for a fight, but he relaxed. That’s stupid, This Arthur person is clearly a well known individual & I'm once again outnumbered.

  It wouldn’t be too powerful but Oskar had just enough scraps in his pockets to cast a single low branched spell if needed, the wizard took his first sip of this warm beverage the surprise was instantaneous, it hit him like liquid fire, the alcohol felt almost burning, the spices was just a mask clearing the sinuses, the elf was alert now, his defrosted knife sharp ears & too got straight to the point. “Yes, I was mugged earlier today by a gang of Goblins, they caught me off guard in a side alley fire pit, they took almost everything” Oskar regained his voice after drinking the ale then continued,

  “Almost everything? I’d say like vultures they practically picked you clean, what else could they have taken?” asked Arthur

  “My life” Oskar answered morbidly then continued “I’ve spent some time with Goblins in the past & learned a few tricks”

  Now he knew this was a public place, but Oskars clothes were soaked. He shook his boots off under the table, took out his coins & stripped off everything apart from my pants, & patted the pocket on the inside of my coat back where a metalic book was.

  Arthur's eyebrow raised “I see you’re quite resourceful & well-travelled” Arthur remarked furthering his curiosity.

  A bowl of hot stew with root-based vegetables & what appeared to be at least three kinds of meat in it, the broth could be smelled before it hit the table & his eyes watered. It was the most beautiful meal in Oskars eyes.

  “Here you go, this will fix you right up! The meat for beasts, some say my stew brings back lost strength & then some” said Franklyn & he believed him. Franklyn headed back to the bar to serve other customers old & new leaving us alone to talk.

  Before long the stew was gone, steins of ale as well, while still nursing the warm mug of what he had come to call dragon's breath bourbon.

  Arthur spoke, “Now that you have eaten & have had at least one of the two cups, I have a proposition for you, mister Lotusfall.”