Locmire's Quest: Book One A Tales from Calencia Novel

by Brian Hutchinson

  Chapter 27

  The Broken Lamien

  Red hurriedly approached the Broken Lamien pub, nearly falling several times; anticipation was getting the better of him. As he scurried toward the wooden revolving doors, a tiny Dainty came flying out of the establishment, landing face first on the hard pizenore street.

  “And stay out, you little cheat!” bellowed a burly Dainty.

  Dis be's me kind of place, Red thought. He stepped over the ejected patron and swung open the doors. Upon entering the pub, all activity ceased. Everyone turned toward the strange surface walker who had just entered their place of drink. Red was one of the only outsiders that had entered the Daintish city since the Great War. Red stood still as hundreds of beady eyes sat fixed upon him. He decided he would break the uncomfortable silence.

  “Me hears ye got da best drink in all of Pizenchaffe. Whur can me gets a tankard of yer finest?”

  Immediately the place came back to life. Red made his way over to the bar, noticing the hundreds of small tables and chairs scattered about the pub in no particular pattern. At several of the tables, a type of card game was being played that reminded Red of poker. Gold coins were piled high upon the tables, and tempers were flaring, a high stakes game indeed. Everywhere Red looked, a Dainty lay passed out at a table or in a corner. Deez lil men sure like da drink, Red thought.

  “What will it be?” asked the bald headed, black bearded bar keep.

  “A tankard of yur best drink, me good man,” said Red merrily.

  “Two bronze coins,” said the bar keep blandly.

  Red pulled a coin purse from his side and slid the bar keep two copper pieces.

  I hopes dey take dis kind of coin, Red thought.

  The bar keep looked at the copper very strangely. It was evident that he had never seen coins like these before. He took the copper pieces and bit down on them very hard.

  “I don’t know what type of material these are made from. I have never laid eyes upon coins such as these. I will take them,” he said as he filled the tankard to the brim, not spilling one drop of the precious golden fluid.

  “Dey be much more valuable dan gold,” Red said with a smile on his face.

  Red snatched the drink up in his hand, noticing the head of the drink, not too much, not too little. He turned the tankard up and gulped it down ravenously.

  “Keep em comin, me good man,” Red said as he slid twenty more copper coins the bar keeps way.

  After he guzzled down several tankards of the best drink he had ever tasted, Red decided it was time to check out the rest of the pub. He bobbed and swayed his way through the obstacle course of tables and the stumbling, waist high patrons. He was like a new born calf; he could hardly keep his legs under him. The Daintish drink had really taken hold of him. It had been a long time since he had felt this lack of control over his own body. Red did not like to get to this state. He always liked to stay in control over himself. Bad things can happen to a person when they no longer have control over their own body. Red had seen this happen often in his travels. He decided it would be a good idea to take a seat and begin the rather dull process of becoming sober.

  The drunken Pirate found an empty table and lowered himself down onto a child-like stool and rested his head upon his arms. His imminent slumber was soon disturbed as a stout Dainty plopped down beside him. Red picked his head up off of the table and glared at the uninvited guest.

  “You sure do know how to put em down, surface walker,” said the stranger.

  “Aye, it be’s a very good drink. Hard to stop once ye start,” said Red.

  “That is my problem, friend. The name is Oggy,” the Dainty said as he extended his large hand.

  Red took his hand and said, “Cap'n Red Maher of the Sagging Hag.”

  As the two shook hands, Red could not help but to take notice of the fact that Oggy’s hand engulfed his own.

  Oggy had short, matted brown hair and a matching beard that extended a foot below his chin. He was wearing a decorative pizenore suit of armor; a matching war hammer was slung across his back. Oggy's tired brown eyes complimented his weary, wrinkled face.

  “What brings you down here to this dump, friend?” Oggy asked.

  Red chuckled, “Me and me crew be on an important mission. Tooks me a lil detour eer to clear me thoughts.”

  “Good of a place as any I suppose,” Oggy replied.

  “That it is,” said the Pirate as he sat upright.

  “I have always wanted to venture to the surface. You know, just to see what the sun looks like. I have heard stories of it. It sounds wonderful,” said Oggy.

  “Dat it be me wee friend,” Red said as he comically tried to cure a bad case of double vision.

  Oggy looked as he had just been smacked in the face. “Easy throwing that small talk around down here, friend. Most of my kind do not think well of it, but I know you mean no harm.”

  “Apologies me good man,” Red said as he motioned a bar maid over to their table. “Anudder round for me and me new friend.” He reconsidered his statement. “Make dat two rounds.”

  The new acquaintances quickly dispatched of the tankards of drink. Oggy ordered up another couple of rounds. The two sat and drank like horses at a desert oasis, laughing and sharing tales of battle and women, matters in which they both seemed to be well versed. Red was happy. This was the first time since he had come to this land that he did not have to repeat himself. Oggy understood every word that came from his mouth.

  Their palaver was cut short by a sudden disturbance at the pub’s entrance. Red looked up to see three angry Dainties burst through the front doors.

  The one in the front said, “There he is at the back of the bar with the surface walker.”

  The three Dainties marched forward toward Red and Oggy.

  “This could be trouble, my friend. I must ask you to leave for your safety's sake,” Oggy said to Red as he pushed the table away from them.

  “Never,” said Red. “Me never leaves a drinkin friend to da krakens. Consider yur back safe. Sides, deez scallywags do not look all dat tough.”

  Oggy had no time to reply. The three Dainties were now just mere feet away.

  “There you are, coward. We have been looking for you,” said the red headed Dainty named Olaf.

  “You are a disgrace to the Stonefist name. Everything your kin folk stood for, gone!” exclaimed the other blonde haired Dainty named Erimack.

  “We are here to make you remember your lineage, one way or another,” said the black haired one named Zulp.

  “Listen here you three,” Oggy said as he stood up. “We have already discussed this, and there is nothing left to discuss. Be gone with you.”

  “Time for talking is over, Oggy,” Erimack said.

  “We gave you plenty of time to make things right,” said Olaf.

  “This is for your own good,” said Zulp.

  The four Dainties all drew their weapons.

  “Arrr,” said Red as he pulled himself up from the table. “Me tinks ye lil men are bitin off more dan ye can chew.”

  “Little men, eh?” asked Olaf.

  “Watch who you are calling little, fellow,” said Zulp.

  “A surface walker . . . in our home . . . is calling us little,” said Erimack with a hate filled look in his eyes.

  Red calmly drew his pistol, pointed it at the wooden handle of Erimack's axe and squeezed the trigger. The hammer collided with the firing mechanism, igniting the powder, and sent a lead ball propelling out of the barrel. The ball connected flush with its target, shattering the wooden shaft of the axe. The rapport filled the ears of every soul in the pub. The heavy pizenore head of the axe plummeted downward and sank into the wooden table. The pub was once again silent. No one made a move. All eyes were upon Red and his strange device that had just produced thunder and lightning.

  The four Dainties next to Red stood in awe at what had just happened. Red swayed a little, still feeling the effects of the potent drink he had co
nsumed.

  He said, “Me tinks we should all sit down, have anudder drink, and chit chat dis mess out bafore someone gets keel hauled. Pub wench!” Red motioned to the tiny waitress. “Anudder round of drinks for me and me friends.”

  Red plopped down like the falling head of the axe onto the small chair underneath him. A loud pop rang out as the tiny chair gave under the pressure of his dead weight. Laughter erupted throughout the pub. Even the four Dainties, who, moments ago, were ready to wage war with one another, began to laugh uncontrollably. After the laughter subsided, the Dainties looked at each other and took a seat. Tension was thick in the air. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable situation in which Red had ever been, and he had certainly been in some uncomfortable situations before. He decided he had to do something, or they might soon be on the brink of war once more.

  “Me knows exactly what we needs,” Red said with a smile on his face.