Tales of Telurra: Jesse Woodram

Chapter 2- Big Trouble in Littlespring

 It was a few hours taking a cab to the farms outside Irondale proper. Halfway there the road turned to dirt, making the later half hell on Jesse's back. He'd have to splurge a bit on a soft bed to make up for that ride.
Littlespring was quaint, small and warm, painted in the reds and oranges of later afternoon. From a layman's point of view, the farm town was a peaceful place, one where the old ways, from before industry changed things, were still alive and well. But, when Jesse looked at it, he saw a place brimming with tension. A disproportionately large number of guards patrolled the streets, people were finishing up early so they could head home before dark.
The two-storey brick inn and tavern on the main road had lights on, so at least Jesse could pick up a pint before bed. He strode in, past a patrol of guardsmen. Hands gripped halberds too tight, or rested on pommels. Eyes shifted back and forth, keeping a diligent watch over the road in front of them. The guards almost jumped when they saw Jesse pass them.
Not a good sign, Jesse thought. This place is wound tighter than a clock spring, any tighter and it'll break.

The sign for the Hound and Hare hung above the tavern's porch, swaying placidly in the breeze. Ahead, the swinging doors let the warm, yellow light spill out. It invited anyone and everyone in for a pint and a good round of laughter. Music was playing, a harmonica, banjo, and mandolin played a jaunty tune as the patrons laughed and sang along.
Jesse stepped inside and saw a packed common room, men and women enjoying a brief spot of light in what seemed to be a troubling time. Jesse couldn't help but smile at the warm atmosphere.
He trod over to the bar, taking a seat in an unoccupied stool, dropping his duffel bag next to him. The barkeep came up to him.
"Aye, welcome stranger," a gruff female voice said to him. "What'll it be this fine day?"
The barkeep was a squat and broad woman, auburn brown hair tied back into a braid with a kerchief tied over head. The arm she rested on the bar was thick with muscle and topped with strong-looking hands. She looked to be a half-dwarf.
"Ale," Jesse said, slapping a few crisp marks down on the table. "Your best, if you'd please."

The barkeeper's eyes narrowed at Jesse. She obviously didn't think he could possibly be carrying around such clean looking bills. Hell, they looked freshly printed. She took a few bills and examined them, bringing them up to the light. Her eyes widened, showing off her green eyes once she figured out they were authentic.

"At once, sir," the barkeep said, swiftly taking the bills and grabbing a mug.

Jesse smiled, resting his arms on the bar and taking a brief look around. The other patrons at the bar were the kind of people he could respect. Strong, broad shouldered men with sweat stains on their clothes and calluses on their hands. He noticed one of them, an orc, was wearing a leather apron that held a hammer and a wrench, it jingled as he moved, meaning he had metal bits inside his pockets.
"A mechanic," Jesse asked the man next to him. "This far out from the town?"
The man turned to him. He had a strong face, with a thick, brown beard and mustache that had the consistency of a wire brush.
"Don't be so surprised, lad," the mechanic said. "Machines are used, even out here. We got tractors and combines. Even have a laborhulk."

The barkeep slid Jesse his mug. He caught it deftly, not even a drop of foam managed to fall. Jesse didn't break eye contact with the mechanic.

"Very nice," Jesse said, taking a sip from his mug. "You must be making decent money."

"Aye. And from the looks of ya, ya must be an adventuring type."

Jesse grinned. "Am I that easily readable?" He took another sip. The ale was good, sweet with a decent head. It sat thickly on the tongue, just as Jesse liked it.

"You here to deal with the kobolds?" The mechanic's voice was hopeful and hushed, he leaned in so no one could hear him. It would spoil the atmosphere if he reminded people of the danger outside their door.