Stories from the Troubled Land: Unexpected Customer

I

'Brock! Three more ales over here if you have a second to spare,' said one of the three regulars sitting in the corner of the inn.

'Three more coming right up,' replied Brock, the owner of the tavern. His pub was sitting at the far west end of Beriith and stood there for hundreds if not thousands – the latter was much disputed as not many believed it possible – of years. No matter its age, it's serving dozens of people daily, from regulars to travelers that venture beyond the west borders just behind the city.

As Brock approached the long bar at the other side of the pub a small head popped from behind it. A young boy, aged fourteen, was just finishing drafting the beers. 'There you go, father,' said Brock Junior.

'Well done, son, thank you,' responded his father with a smile that hid under his bulky mustache. With the beers in his hand, he took off back towards the far table.

'As promised, lads,' started Brock, 'three ales to quench your thirst.'

'Fast as a hare, thank you,' said the patron sitting at the left side of the table, named Peter.

'So Brock,' exclaimed Kvil that sat in the middle, 'how's it going today?'

'Well busy as ever, as you can see,' replied Brock and swung his hand behind him, showing the room that was filled to the brim. 'Old faces just got their monthly payments and need to make their pockets lighter, and the winter is knocking at our doors and carrying all sorts of people back from the West.'

'Explorers,' scolded the last man they called Alden. 'Never liked that bunch, they bring trouble with them.'

'They're not as bad as you think. They bring money to our city and I haven't had a problem in the pub in years.'

'No wonder, I wouldn't want to raise trouble when a bartender with the body of yours is nearby,' said Peter gesturing at Brock. The owner chuckled at the compliment but it was not uncalled for. As he stood there, talking to the patrons, with his arms crossed, he took up space for three men from shoulder to shoulder. His height was in line with his width, as he stood well above most people with his six feet and three inches. Brock truly made the perfect barkeep, he was joyous and happy to talk to the regulars, but strong and mean to drive away the troublemakers. And the regulars expected nothing less from him as the might of his family was talked down for generations. Some even said that Brock's family had ties to giants, but this claim was questioned just as much as the age of the tavern since no one has seen giants on the continent in millennia.

'Barkeep!' exclaimed a person at another table.

Brock first looked at the bar in hopes of more chatting, but he noticed his son was already busy carrying out food through the room. 'Well lads,' bemoaned Brock, 'I'll try to come back later, but as I said before, busy as ever!'

At a small salon hidden close to the bar sat two cloaked figures of a feminine build. To that salon went Brock Junior with two stews and two ales that he carried clumsily but with no spills. 'As ordered, ladies,' said the young bartender.

'Thank you,' said the first figure with a deep voice.

'You don't happen to know the time, boy?' asked the second figure with a similarly scorched voice.

'Well not exactly, but it was half past nine not long ago.'

'Alright, that will be all,' scolded the first figure.

As Brock Junior went back towards the kitchen he noticed his father drafting beer. 'The duo in the back is weird,' said he.

'How come?' asked his father.

'Well I haven't seen their faces since they came in, they asked about time as if waiting for an important meeting and one of them didn't even thank me when I brought them their food!'

Brock's father chuckled at the last note. Taking up five beers he quickly replied before taking off: 'The foreigners are hard to read, probably headhunters those two. Nothing to worry about but do tell me if you see anything weirder than bad manners.'

Junior was unhappy with that answer and sensed some funny business coming to that salon. With his eyes peered he continued to serve the inn.