A Bowl of Cherries



Two travelling companions were on their quest, seeking new adventures. They were both old campaigners, and one of them a sorceress, and the other a mercenary swordsman. The two walked, chatting amiably, though keeping a weathered eye for danger ahead. Or maybe for bandits. If there was one thing those two like to do, and did for a living, was destroying bandits and taking their money. Also getting rewards for capturing them.





No danger could be found. The two strolled casually into the small town of Impress, and set out looking for an inn, and a restaurant. Those two were not too picky about the quality of the food, though they both loved to go around town to collect the land's most famous foods. Both were fond of food. Besides food of course was just some simple shelter. Being travellers, they didn't have much expectations, and most of the time, your expectations can't be all fulfilled.



In the inn, both found a nice table, and sat down. The waitress asked both of them their for orders, and the prompt answer was twenty servings of everything on the menu. The two travelling companions gorged themselves until they could not get another bite down their throats. Finally the sorceress commented calmly as she paid the bill with the last of her money, "Life would be a bowl of cherry if there was an easier way to make money then attacking bandits."



The swordsman scratched his head, and took a better look at his surroundings. Taking a closer look at the wooden chair he sat on, and the wooden table, which was now cleared of all the plates that was piled in a minute ago. He also prodded the floor, and poked the ceiling with the hilt of his sword, before also commenting, "Yes, I know what you mean. The chair and table are made of wood, and so is the ceiling. Look and so is the floor. To bad it isn't cherry."



Then, taking a splinter out of the roughly made chair, he chewed on it and said, "Definitely not cherry, but wood doesn't taste that bad!"