*#1 in Dungeons and dragons for 3 months in 2020*
Deeply traumatised by his past, Clarence must find the courage to rescue his friend from a place he swore he would never return.
Clarence O'Leary, A Leprechaun, is determined to live his life as a f...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Arthur Innisman had settled himself in the Kitchen. He was eating a bowl of pottage with his elbows resting on the table. When Clarence slid onto a stall opposite him he glanced up then carried on chewing. He ate with his mouth open. It turned Clarence's stomach. Only once he had swallowed did he put the bowl down and reach into his pocket. He drew out a letter.
"You will read it in my company," he said, his mouth still full of food. His tongue worked around his teeth as he sucked at them to dislodge the bits stuck in between.
"Will you go away if I do?" Clarence had to fight hard not to be sick.
"Once an answer has been given I will Jump to England to deliver it."
"The answer is the same as it has always been. No." He didn't understand why Arthur felt the need to bother him. To come here in person to ask the same question he had been asked over and over in the letters.
"There will come a day, Clarence, when this will not be tolerated any longer, you're a disgrace to your family but they are still your family."
"That's not going to change any time soon."
Arthur looked out of the kitchen door where Beatrix was slowly cleaning the countertop.
"How's the girl settling in?" He asked, the unspoken question of 'does she understand what we are saying?' written across his face.
"She can say the most basic things. It's tedious having to teach her." Clarence lied, hoping that from the lie, Beatrix would get the silent request to go away.
Arthur pouted and looked around at the kitchen, "This place will be a thing of the past soon. I hear it's going under." His smile was a twisted mess.
"Not If I can help it."
"Can you?" he asked. "Can you help with your pitiful allowance? If you need more money all you have to do is ask." The smile twisted wider.
"I'd give my last copper to Fred if it helped the tavern stay open, but it would be my last copper. There will be no begging from me."
Arthur chuckled and motioned to the letter but Clarence took it to the fire and chucked it into the flames without opening it. Arthur watched it burn with heavy-lidded nonchalance but his smile disappeared. "Let's see how long you last without an allowance. In a matter of weeks, you will be begging us to help you; when you can't pay for your whore, or your spa or your exercise. When your violin strings fray and you don't have enough money for tobacco, wine or beer." He stood up, his toothless grin widening, "When your friends abandon you because you are no longer profitable to them, then you will do as we ask and willingly too."
Clarence got up and opened the back door, "You're not wanted here," he said. "You're not welcome to turn up and eat our food and drink our alcohol without paying for it, so get out."
"You think these people actually like you? You think they see you as their friend? You're their parasite. However much money you chuck their way, how ever many fights you win or how often you play that fiddle for them- you'll never be one of them Clarence. They know it- you should learn it."
