I burst into the tavern with a grin on my face. Just yesterday night, I had slain four highwaymen preying on the poor, defenseless men, women and children. Now, with justice served, my coinpurse swelled like my heart. A good deed done was its own reward they say, and I agree. But extras rewards are always nice, nonetheless. I had money to spare, and I greatly wished to spread the joy of the news in the nicest way possible.
"Citizens of Tela-Tisco-Tisva... Whatever the name of your village be! I come with great news!" I paused to let every soul in the tavern gaze upon me, dressed in a dazzling white and blue travel tunic, that I had meticulously managed to keep clean despite my hard journeying. "Four bandits just a day's travel to the south lie dead, and the roadways of this fair country are now four bandits safer! That's quite a bit safer! Hurrah! I, Sir Warouche of the Order of Sacred Knights, also known as the Knights of the Sacred Order, or even the Sacred Order of Knights... Olam's Eyes, I once even heard it called the Sacred Knights of the Order. Anyway, I killed them. And to celebrate this good deed done, I am buying every single patron here a pint of the Blue Pansies' finest ale! Actually, make that half a pint. Half a pint of this fair tavern's finest ale! And not one for me, dearest barkeep. One more hurrah!"
I waited patiently for the the tavern's people to hurrah. A few did indeed, mostly the less than sober ones, but others mostly stared at me. But none would grumble. Why should they? Free ale! What's not to like about that! I stood triumphantly while the faint hurrahs sort of echoed the room, positioning myself in a way that best showed the fine hilt of the sword that rested upon my hip. I then bowed, and made my way to the bar where I sat down upon a stool next to a comely black haired lass who had been having a conversation of some sort with a man showing his sheathed dagger, and a drunk. Perhaps a man who had been showing his sheathed dagger in the same manner that I had? Ah, I loved this country! Mayhaps this man had slain highwaymen himself, and was now proudly showing the tool of the deed as I had?
I took out a fair amount of coin and gave it to the barkeep, who had no doubt heard my announcement.
"For the half-pints," I told him as I sat upon my barstool, one leg over the other, and leaning against the counter. "And a plate of lamb-chops. You people make the most delicious lambchops. Does the recipe run in your fine people's blood, or is it a product of smelling this fresh country air every dewy morning? Ah, good sir, do not answer. I am content with the question!"
|