Rune of Oldfyre

Chapter Three

Several weeks of walking and training passed. We ended up in a mountain town called Night Wind, unfortunately in the winter. Fortunately, during the biggest holiday this mountain town has. Anya, Al, and I stood with a town guide as he explained the holiday to us in the cold.

“Moon Fest,”  the town guide, who looked a bit like Bill Nighy, began, “Is the celebration of the harvest.”

“It’s the middle of the fucking winter though.” A shivering Allister pointed out, correctly I might add.

“Exactly,” the guide acknowledged, “it celebrates the fact that your harvest supported you through at least half the winter.”

“That seems like a poor reason to celebrate.” I said.

“Yeah,” Anya agreed, “Thats like celebrating because only half the town was beheaded.”

“It’s a reason to get drunk!” Yelled the guide. He then promptly marched off, to annoy another group of partiers probably.

The inside of The Mountain Giant was pretty much the same as The Moon Lady, except with people, loads of people. The guide wasn’t lying about the drinking. There were hundreds of people packed into this place. Tables overflowing with villagers, soldiers and adventurers alike.  I felt a slight gust of wind as Al and Anya ran out to meet with other soldiers, leaving me all alone in the threshold.

The feeling was back. I couldn’t rid myself of it. I decided I needed a drink.

Though the bar was packed with people I was able to find a place next to a female dwarf; the Thorin Oakenshield kind, not the Tyrion Lannister kind. I had gotten drunk enough to tell her about my odd feeling.

“You need to become an adventurer.” She said, in a far-too-deep-to-be-a-woman voice.

“Aventuur?” I slurred. I wasn’t a heavy drinker.

“Adventure.” She said.

“What would that do for me?” I attempted.

“It’ll clear your mind, give you purpose.”

“How do I start adventuring?”

“Here,” she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small object. Some sort of carved bone with an inscription on it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s the Rune of Oldfyre.” She said.

‘What am I supposed to do with it?” I inquired

“Deliver it to king Watsisname of Incursia.” She said.

“You mean the one with the massive army in this village right now?”

“I guess,” She shrugged, “I have to leave.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“It’s Boris.” She said.  She then got up from her seat at the bar and left. It was at this precise moment that my mind had sobered up enough to realize that that “she” was infact a “he” dressed as “she”. The thick beard could have been a clue.

I placed the rune in my pocket and completely forgot about it.