Part #1. A Quiet Evening
As stars began to blanket the world outside, the glow of the Blue Orc Tavern's hearth kept its patrons warm against the chill night's air. In the distant fields nearby, crickets began to sing their songs. But in the tavern? Well, there might as well have been crickets in there as well, because the night was so quiet that the local's voices were drowned out by the crackling of burning wood. In the inns and taverns of great cities, a peaceful night was hard to come by. But in the village of Kjartenholm, quiet was the usual.
As the local villagers finished their evening meals and reached the half-way marker on their tankards, the doors of the tavern suddenly burst open with a loud thud. In their wake, standing in the open doorway, was a seven foot tall Goliath with a wide grin plastered on his bearded face.
Needless to say, the folk were stunned at the sight, as Kjartenholm was settled in a largely human area, where Goliaths were little more than hearsay and legend. All of their gazes turned to the visitor, who - uncertain if they were looking at him or not - turned around to double check. Of course, they were most certainly staring at him. The Goliath, standing there with broad shoulders and pale skin, was quite the sight. The silence was, of course, rather awkward and there was nothing this fellow hated more than silence.
"Hullo," he began in a brash (yet overwhelmingly eager) voice. "My name is Kazok Farseeker of Clan Elikanarai. Do you mind if I share your fire? Maybe some ale too?"
They stared for a moment or two longer. There was a lot to take in. On the one hand, Goliaths were real, apparently. So that was quite the adjustment for the majority. On the second, Kazok spoke with a thick accent that was incredibly unusual for them. All in all, it was an eventful night for the people of Kjartenholm.
"One ale coming up," a voice finally replied. It was the bartender; an old man with a gruff voice but kind eyes.
"Why thank ye, friend. May I ask yer name?" Kazok spoke as he walked to the bar and was handed a generous tankard of ale.
"Me? My name is Ben."
"Ah, Ben. A noble name. I'm not sure if ya heard me back there, but my name is Kazok Farseeker of Clan Elikanarai. At yer service, Mister Ben." The Goliath immediately reached out a hand and shook the bartender's with vigor.
"Yes, I did happen to catch your name earlier." Everyone in the province did, of course. "But it is a pleasure to meet you, Kazok Farseeker of….?"
"Clan Elikanarai."
The bartender nodded his head in agreement, though he likely did not even remember an eighth of the laborious name. The stranger was nothing if not unique.
Kazok took a large swig of the drink, downing half of it in a few moments. He seemed fairly pleased with the taste (or, more likely, the effect) and swiftly finished the rest. Then, he slammed the cup down with an exaggerated exhale before he asked for another round and turned to the crowd around the center hearth.
A group of Kjartenholm denizens sat on four benches which rested around the perimeter of the firepit. Kazok made a point to smile at each of them after sitting down. There was a young couple, whose two children were currently playing in the corner, and an elderly couple, who sat beside a grown son who had yet to fly the coop. There were also various farmer-looking folk and a stern guard captain.
Suddenly, much to the shock of the villagers (this was becoming a theme), a wild boar charged up to Kazok's feet and plopped right down like a pup. The beast seemed to hum as Kazok scratched him behind the ears. "Ah, there ya are, Boary. I was wonderin' where ya got to, lad."
The boar merely snorted and grunted in reply before it nuzzled his snout against Kazok and laid its head on the ground. It was not long until they heard snoring so loud that it could only be described as "like a pig."
The roaring hearth was beginning to turn to embers and Kazok was not happy with the silence. He shifted in his seat and ordered another drink; this time, a mug of honied mead. However, no matter how much he fought the urge to speak, he (for once) kept his mouth shut. At least, he kept his mouth shut until he could no longer stand the silence, which was about five and a half minutes.
"Alright," he said. "There's more cheer from a fly in a spider web than around this fire! Does anyone know a song or something?"
"Hmmf," the stern guardsman replied. "We're simple folk here. But I'd reckon that you know a story or two."
As a matter of fact, Kazok did know a story or two. In fact, he knew a great many more than that. When he last counted, he could effectively tell one-hundred-and-two stories properly, and even more improperly. He lit up at the question and said: "I thought you'd never ask."
Dear Reader,
Well, here is a bit of a distraction from Boundless Roads! I really should get back to that series. I recently discovered DnD with some friends and figured that I might share this character with you all. His name, as you'll likely hear many times throughout this story, is Kazok Farseeker of Clan Elikanarai and he is really fun to portray. I play him with a Scottish accent. He says whatever is on his mind and does whatever his heart thinks is best (or most interesting). I hope you enjoy this! It's my attempt to write a bit more humor, so it might be a rocky start. Here's hoping its alright! If you like it, I'd love it if you reviewed!
~Kovecs
P.S. I added a lot of parenthesis. It helps get the general ADHD feel of this story down.