“Doooonnt’ be bringin’ no sack o’ bloody heads in me tavern. ‘Ow many times I gotta tell ye, man-hunter? This is no trading post! Now what’ll it be? The usual? I suggest ye drink up, for ‘cordin’ to ole’ Ferry 'ere, it’ll be yer last.”
With a Pfft! A second arrow dives through the window, and for the first time, you hear cries from outside. The town watch. “It came from over there!” you hear them say.
The concerned look on Brigdan’s face grows more serious and he makes eye contact with Mary, one of his serving wenches, motioning her to the bar with his head as he heads outside, saying “At’s about enough. If ye won’t be going to check this out, then I will.” Brigdan shoulders his bastard sword and ehads for the exit, leaving the capable Mary to take his place at the bar.
“Oh they’ll be here in a while,” Ferry cries out from beneath his mug. “Which reminds me,” the man says with sudden epiphany. “Man-hunter, what say you re-fill your sack tonight? And you three, as well,” he says, addressing the archer, the priestess and the fortune teller. “For each sack, I’m willing to pay.” He reaches into his pocket fishes out a small golden figurine shaped like a bull and places it upon the bartop. It is fine quality gold. Old gold, the sort traded only by adventurers after a good plunder.
“One for each full sack o’ heads.” He seems to remember something. “Aaah, this one this one to m’lady.” He slides the heavy golden object towards Mary with a smile. The barmaid snaps up the figurine, examining its weight as she does so.
The bounty is a fortune. The sack previously transacted would be worth more than most families acquire within a year. Let alone a single adventurer.
“Of course, ye’ll 'ave to live to spend it, now won’t you?”
A new patron interrupts, entering the bar behind you, proclaiming loudly “someone’s set the grain house a’fire!”
“Well gentlemen, lady” with a nod to the priestess, “that’s my cue. You’re the only thing in this tavern that looks to know the correct side of a weapon to hold, let alone be of any use, so my offer stands. As many as you can kill, I’ll pay.”
And Ole’ Ferry’s off. Those words were by far the most you’ve ever heard out of the very secretive man.
@RockBogart What’s your usual? There’s ale, GOOD ale, whiskey and GOOD whiskey. Hmmm? Goes for the rest of you if you care as well.
