Chapter 2 Page 5 - Weasle Tossing Time

Evil Emperor Nick on June 9, 2008

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The Inn Crowd
Written by: E.E. Nick
Edited by: Amelius

“You know turnover in the adventure trade is very, very high. This is a fact. It is the nature of the beast. We go through vicious cycle after vicious cycle. The land gets terrorized by bandits or someone sets themselves up as a dark lord and kids grow up training for revenge and justice quests. Sooner or later they end up 35 with no non-violent work skills and end up becoming bandits or setting themselves up as dark lords when they can't get work until someone younger and faster shows up to take them down and then the whole things starts over again. You know I was the hero of Kroop, once.” Skrag complained.

“Didn't Kroop get wiped out a few weeks ago?” Prix asked.

“Shyad up!” Skrag yelled at her. “My point is that the whole system is flawed.”

“What system?” Prix asked again.

“EXACTLY.” Skrag said as he pounded on the table. “Exactly! Assassins have a guild, minions have a guild, mages have a guild, even the theives have a guild! Think about that! People who steal from each other for a living still manage to get together and organize! But adventurers, adventurers don't have a guild!”

Prix swivels a bit on her bar stool. “Why would we want a guild? You know how the minion guild works, don't you? They are always hiring new minions, equipping stooges off the street and then sending them in as cheap labor for guard duty and such. As soon as they are up for a raise, they send ‘em on something suicidal to keep their costs down.”

“Yea but the ones that survive! The ones that survive are set for life.” Skrag said in a low sly voice. “I mean we’re dropping like flies and what do we get when we turn 40? A sword in the arse from the latest blowhard trying to show how he's better then you. At least for the guildies, when they turn grey they get some respect. They get some authority rather than every would-be hero showing up to take a hack at you.”

“What about Frey? He's 70.” Prix said and indicated a young elfy looking teen with an excessive assortment of soft looking layers of fancy looking clothing topped off by a red wide brimmed hat with a feather in it. Frey was leaning back in a chair, his staff slung over his shoulder and gazing at his glass of water like he hadn't a thought in his head.

“Von Skyler?” Skrag said practically spitting the words out like it was some kind of curse. “If not for ”Uncle Skyriel“ that fey little peter-piper-pan-putz would have been out of here a long time ago. He just likes waving that staff of his around to impress people.”

“The staff is just for walking.” Frey said. “I actually carry a sword around to impress people.”

“Grar, damn your elven ears!” Skrag yelled at him then he said much lower. “Stinking spell slinger thinks he's…..”

“I can still hear you.” Frey said.

Frey stood up and came over to Skrag & Prix's little section of the bar.

“Come on Skrag.” Frey said in a slightly whiny tone voice. “Why don't you like me? I've offered to let you come on jobs with me before. I'm not trying to pick your pocket or whatever.”

“Boy, you've gotta get laid before you can offer someone your sloppy seconds.” Skrag replied and turned away from Frey a little.

Frey turned a bit red until his face matched his hat. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I mean carrying a staff & a sword? Isn't that a little over, over compensating?” Skrag said smiling to himself.

“WHAT?” Frey said now a deeper shade of red than his hat. “Everyone carries a sword and my staff is a…a…” Frey stumbled for words trying to find something Skrag couldn't twist around to sound awful.

Prix calmly interjected. “Nah. Elves have two.”

“What?” Skrag said almost falling out of his chair.

“They got two of ‘em.” Prix said camly taking a sip of her drink. “That’s why elves are always carrying two swords.”

Frey tried to say something but when he opened his mouth his jaw merely started to fall towards the floor and the best he could do was to keep it from falling off his face.

Skrag looked as if he were about to say ‘What’ again but then suddenly stopped and squinted at Prix. After a long moment he turned around grabbed his stuff and stomped out of the bar.

“Prix!” Frey said. “Um I don't know how to tell you this but that….um…you know that….”

“Yea I know.” Prix said. “But it is going to drive Skrag nuts till he finds out the truth.”

“But now he is going to like me even less!” Frey complained.

“Lords of Darkness. If you just cracked Skrag upside the head once and complained when you where in here, he would like you fine. Swear a little while your at it, don't always be so clean, and drink something.” Prix said.

“I just happen to know a good dry cleaning spell and I don't think that bar keeper likes me either.” Frey said.

“That is ‘cause you don’t buy anything.” Prix observed.

“But I tip well.” Frey protested.

“Nevermind, just be yourself. Its worked for you so far.” Prix said.

“Well I did handle that incident at Veldimar rather well.” Frey said.

“Didn't Veldimar get wiped out a few weeks ago?” Prix asked.

“Well yes the village was but…the thing is…” Frey paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and then said simply. “Well it could have been a lot worse.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Prix said a with a most unlady like snort.

For a moment Frey and Prix were both quiet then Prix said. “So tell me, ‘cause Skrag and me were having a discussion. Is it true that a wizard can learn a spell, that when he just looks at woman…”

Prix never got to finish her question though because just then Skrag barged into the bar with a brand new spear in his hand.

“Com’on.” Skrag said making his way over to Prix and grabbing her by the arm and started pulling her towards the door. “We're out of here.”

Prix shook Skrag off and finished her drink in one swift gulp and then broke the glass on the counter, a long standing tradition with Prix which caused Frey to wince for fear of flying glass. Skrag meanwhile threw down some money on the bar and held open the door with his spear.

“Looks like we're off again.” Prix said cheerily ( though if this was meant to the bartender, the bar in general, or Frey it wasn't quite clear.)

“New job?” Frey asked as Prix grabbed her stuff to go.

“None of your business.” Skrag said.

“We're off to Velsing.” Prix said over her shoulder as she walked out the door. “They need a coupla extra hands for a party they're putting together up there to go after some big hairy people eating thing.”

“Don't tell him that!” Skrag yelled at Prix.

“Can I come? I could help.” Asked Frey.

“No.” Skrag and Prix said together and Skrag slammed the door for effect.

Frey watched them go through the window and then made his way back to the bar. He picked up the broken handle to Prix's cup and closed his eyes. The fragment of shattered glass floated into the air and pulled together reforming into the original glass. Frey opened his eyes and admired his own handy work with a small smile and tilted the glass slightly so it caught the light.

“The heck with it. I'm going and they can't stop me. I'm an adventurer too! I've been doing this longer than they have! It's about time I got a little respect around here.” Frey said to the and brought the glass violently down the on the counter.

The glass came down on the counter and bounced out of Frey's grip, smacked him in the forehead and spun through the air before it finally tinked off the floor and came to a rest. With a small sigh, Frey rubbed his forehead with one hand while he reached down with the other to pick up the glass and set in on the counter gently this time. Glumly, Frey made his way back over to his original table and settled back down into his seat. He picked his glass back up and gazed deeply into it as if seeing the deeper mysteries of the universe in it.

“My staff was a gift from a lady. That's what I should have said.” Frey said to himself.