The Waiting Baker was filled with its usual complement of elves, dwarves, half-elves, half-dwarves, and even the odd orc or three. Brian Bruun, the innkeeper, kept a very tight ship, however; any fights were to be taken outside, and all parties, regardless of who started the brawl, had the cost added to their ale, beer, cider, or food. If anyone grumbled about having to pay for breakage, spillage, or other disruptions, Brian made them pay double.
I hummed to myself as I sat in my usual corner, watching the common room bustle. Tonight, there seemed to be a bit of an extra buzz in the air, and ten minutes after settling myself with a tankard of ale, I soon ascertained the reason.
We were hosting celebrities tonight.
Ashton Roberts and his party of adventurers had stopped in the village tonight owing to the extra heavy rain. He and his companions had taken up one of the central tables, and they were regaling their circle of avid listeners with the tales of their latest adventure. They'd been on a mission to vanquish Malbasdynth, Lord of the Red, a dragon with a vicious temper, who'd been terrorising the farmlands for years. Ailsa Woods, his half-orc, half-human second-in-command, had slain the beast, and she told a harrowing story of how that encounter had very nearly cost her life.
"I feared he might crush me, 'ere the end," she said. "Luckily, I had Bonesnapper and Life's Limit in hand, so I was able to wallop him good and proper."
I whistled to myself. Bonesnapper and Life's Limit were the hereditary flails of House Woods. Traditionally, only the Archduke or Archduchess - the heir to the throne - could wield them, but Ailsa was unique in that she was the scion of two houses - her own House Woods on her mother's side, and House Mahzun on her father's side. War between orcs and humans had resulted in there being only a handful of heirs left by the time the dust settled, and only Ailsa had survived the struggle between her cousins. Sheer might had seen her victory, and her bastard-born status didn't matter squat. High Queen Mor had been in desperate need of an heir, and Ailsa had been a blessing in disguise.
"And did you take his scales?" an eager boy demanded.
Ailsa winked. "No, but I did take his horns," she said. "I'm going to carve them into the grandest hunting horn you've ever seen. No horn will surpass it when it's made, and I'm going to need all the power I can wring from it."
Lanlanor Chaeralei, the half-elf scout who served with Ashton, nodded his agreement. "Aye," he said. "Our next mission is going to be rather more challenging."
"What are you going to do?" the boy asked, eyes shining.
Ashton smiled. "First, I'm going to finish my ale," he said. "Then you're going to bed, rascal. Your mother will have my hide if she finds out I let you stay up so late."
The boy pouted, and the general buzz resumed as the heroes got down to the Very Serious Business of eating and drinking. I sat back, tapping my lips thoughtfully. I'd never been much of a hero type, but there was a pull about Ashton and his party that you really couldn't help be drawn by. And though the party was small, they were the most powerful band of adventurers you could ever have on your side in a tight corner. Apart from Ailsa and Lanlanor, who carried the traits of orcs and elves along with their human heritage, there was Peyton, a talking horse who'd been given this ability after drinking from Stockburn Lake, a body of water famous for granting your most heartfelt desire. There was also Temara the pixie, rejected by her family for having no magic, but more than making up for it by her extrodinary lock-picking skills, and Paradox, a retired bounty hunter who now used his skills to assist Ashton.
Then there was Ashton himself, whose real name was Ythi Chaingad. Exiled for not fitting the mould of what a dark elf was, he'd wandered around aimlessly for years, until meeting up with Temara and Paradox, both of whom were at loose ends themselves. They'd formed a band, eventually recruiting Peyton, before drawing Ailsa and Lanlanor. They'd steadfastly refused to recruit others, stating they weren't heroes, just a bunch of misfits trying to make the world a better place.
And they'd certainly done so in spades. Quite apart from their recent adventure, they'd also mended the feud between Nuzasha and the Zuwyth Empire, two kingdoms who'd been forever at war for as long as anyone could remember. They'd saved the Free Forest from a wildfire which had threatened to wipe it out; they'd founded the Institute Of The Arcane, a school where anyone could learn magic, even if the seeker had no magical aptitude at all. They'd even mended Lanlanor's relationship with his mother, the elven empress Yralissa, after a seventeen-year-long estrangment, thus gaining a powerful ally in High House Chaeralei.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
In short, they performed miracles where all hope had been extinguished, and they were so darned humble, brushing off their amazing accomplishments with a shrug of the shoulders, as if their deeds were of no more worth than swatting a fly, or helping a wizened grandmother across the street.
I decided I wanted to be a part of the legend. My village had all the comforts one could wish for, but I was growing a bit bored of the quiet country life. I needed to be out on the road, sleeping rough, and learning the ways of tracking and forest craft I'd longed to learn all my life, but never really could.
I drained the last of my beer and stood. "May I have your ear?" I called to Ashton.
Ashton turned, eyebrows raised. "Hello, good sir," he greeted me. "Forgive me, but I don't know your name. You do look rather familiar to me, though."
I walked across to his table and shook his proferred hand. "Call me Fionn O'Kenny," I said.
Ailsa blinked. "The Fionn O'Kenny?" she said.
I chuckled as I sat down and made introductions with the rest of the party. "Gods, no," I said. "I do have a famous ancestor with that name, but I can't carry a tune in a bucket, so says my loving grandmother, may the gods be merciful to her soul when she finally passes the Wheel."
Temara chuckled, her tiny golden wings fluttering as she perched on my wrist. "We don't have much room for singers," she said. "The epics they compose are rather overblown, if you ask me."
"Aren't they ever," Paradox agreed. "Here, another beer for the newcomer!" he called, and one of the serving girls nodded acknowledgement. "I'm paying," he added, and I put my purse away with a smile. "What brings you over, Fionn?"
"I'm bored with the life I lead," I said plainly. "I seek something different. No, not glory, or riches, or the pick of the grateful king's daughters and sons. I seek life. I can't really get it here, and I suspect I might find it on the road."
Ashton frowned thoughtfully as a fresh tankard of beer was placed in front of me. "We don't really recruit," he said. "But you strike me as the type who's in it for the travelling and the learning. Very well, what can you do?"
"I can hunt, and I know my way around cities," I said. "Give me a map, and I'll be able to traverse that city like the back of my hand, even if I've never been there before. I can speak to the seedier side of humanity and learn secrets about even the highest of the high. Oh, and I can do this."
Ailsa blinked, then went wide-eyed when she saw her purse in my hand. "How the devil did you do that?"
I smiled and handed her purse back to her. "Temara isn't the only being with the ability to break into places," I said modestly.
Ashton rubbed his chin. "Very well," he said. "You're hired." He held out his hand once more, and I gave it a firm shake. "I think you're going to fit in just fine," he added.
"I'll drink to that," Paradox said, and I joined in their toast wholeheartedly.
Finally, my life felt like it was going somewhere, and it was a very good feeling indeed.
At least now I could put my skills to work.
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