Fantastic Tales from the realm

Chapter VIII

Preppers, paupers and the morning after

Faehana and Kalwala stumbled into the tavern and collapsed in their bedrolls awakening only hours later as the morning's sunlight slashed across their faces. It cut into the mind's eye and the mist of exhaustion lifted, its sweet drunken embrace replaced with the seething sobriety of reality. Faehana groaned in agony as he rose from his bedroll, his robes creased and crooked, his body aching in positions he hadn't dreamed could hurt.

'Gods below,' he cursed in a haggard tone as he rose from his bedroll and made his way downstairs, faetel in hand. In one swift motion, he dropped his faetel, withdrew 2 silver pieces and snatched a schooner of mead from the bar. In one fell shot, the sage downed the contents of the wooden mug and waved for the taverns meagre breakfast as he sat with the rest of the party in the tavern's main hall. The other two members silently sat around the table, their meals arriving shortly after. Faehana scanned the silent members conducting a rapid-fire headcount. 'Where's Kalwala?'

To this, the party just shrugged.

'I was so distraught and tired I had tunnel vision,' Farren said candidly.

'The matters of a rogue aren't mine to concern with,' Ugaburk said plainly as the tavern door bolted open and the devilish grin of Kalwala shone in, her stance wide, her tail whipping with anticipation. She strode in, her steps ignorant of sound as they brushed the wooden floor before she settled down at the party's table.

'Where have you been?' Faehana asked resentfully.

'out,' she said in simple reply 'so what do we-' she began as Faehana snapped.

'Before anything. You owe me a drink,' he said with vicious frustration boiling from his eyes. Kalwala just sighed.

'Barkeep!' she bellowed 'Get this sage the stiffest drink you've got! On me!'

'Aye, Mistress!' called back the barkeep as he brought forward a tankard of mead 'this be our 'ome brew it is Mistress, stiffest stuff in the realm' he said preening 'Master scholar, 'ere you go,' the barkeep said, turning to face Faehana as he settled the tankard on the table before turning to Kalwala 'that'll be one dragon Mistress Tiefling,' he finished with a stern look. With a pained grimace, the rogue loosed a single golden coin and slapped it onto the table, palm down. Removing her hand to clearly show the coin to all. With a soft smile, the barkeep snatched the coin from the table 'thankin' you kindly Mistress Tiefling. Good day Master Faehana, Sir Ugaburk, Mistress Farren,' he said with three individual nods before ducking off. The party turned towards Kalwala, frowning as they did at the barkeep's turn of address. It was quite taboo to refer to one by their race rather than their name. The rogue simply shrugged.

'They don't care for your name as long as you pay on time,' she countered the unspoken question.

After a moment's thought Faehana shrugged 'cheers,' he said plainly as he downed the tankard in a horrifying three heartbeats.

'Vipers around!' Farren hissed in shock as the sage slammed the tankard onto the table, grinning from ear to ear 'Our colleges prepare us for more than merely magic!' he declared in a loud voice before deteriorating into a violent fit of coughing, tears and spittle before finally slamming his head against the table. Farren looked on in shocked horror while Ugaburk and Kalwala held their stern inspection of the crippled sage. The rogue held her staunch expression for only a moment though and burst into fits of gleeful laughter.

'Clearly, they missed something!' she finally said between fits, her chair rocking dangerously backward as she did. Ugaburk's rigid expression finally collapsed into a sigh.

'So, what will we need for this expedition?' he continued for Kalwala as she dragged herself off the floor. 'He'll need to consult with his Academy... and probably my chapters herbology,' as the cleric finished his comment the sage rose bolt straight, eyes wide, his breaths deliberate