Tale Four, Olberic
"A knight from the Lost Kingdom of Hornburg. Never would I believe that I would meet such a man of honor on our journey," Cyrus exclaimed, almost fawning over the ethnographic research he could accomplish by speaking with Olberic Eisenberg. "Had I known whilst we were battling those bandits, I would have taken the time to examine you more studiously!"
The knight-turned-wanderer of mention drank greedily from his mug, enjoying the warmth of the alcohol after a long day of fighting. It was one of life's few simple pleasures. With drink in hand, the myriad of questions that had already been asked of him by the scholar were hardly affecting him. He simply smiled.
"Don't worry, Professor, in our journeys there shall be many victories to come. You will see my fighting style then. But you're a studious type, so might I ask why you wish to examine how I battle?"
"Well, as a scholar of knowledge, researching the fighting methods passed down by a kingdom gone will produce immeasurable data!"
Unknowingly, the warrior had opened a box of questions that would be thrown his way well into the morning. Upon noticing where Cyrus was heading with his train of thought, Tressa – after finishing her drink in one fell swig – interrupted the scholar.
"Hold it, hold it! Professor, I think we should save the questions for another time," the merchant spoke, uninhibited in her speech as the strong stout did its work. "After all, we just defeated a gang of baddies, we should be celebrating! And hearing some stories from our new friend."
Taking a sip of his own stout, the scholar thought for a moment before nodding. "My dear, you are right, sometimes I lose myself in my research. Pray tell, can we continue this research later, Sir Eisenberg?"
The warrior chuckled. "It is not 'Sir Eisenberg' anymore, you can call me Olberic, Professor. As for the questions, I will be honored to aid in preserving the knowledge of Hornburg."
"Of course, Olberic! Anytime you wish, I am willing. After all, a scholar's job is from sun up until sun down."
"Then I await that day."
The two men clinked their mugs together, drinking hardly to seal their deal.
Meanwhile, Ophilia watched the conversations taking place from the outside, simply enjoying being able to listen to her companions for the time being. It was a small amount of joy, but one that warmed her body in this land that was almost as cold as the Frostlands. Upon thinking of her homeland, the cleric stared into her drink, wondering how His Excellency and Anna were fairing.
"Ophilia!"
The exclamation from Tressa brought the cleric out of her brief reverie. She flashed her companions a small smile, noticing the red that had spread across the merchant's face. "Yes, Tressa?"
"You… haven't drank hardly anything!" Tressa accused drunkenly. Apparently, it only took the one drink to render the young woman intoxicated. "Come on! I drank my mug in one go, so you should have nooooo trouble!" A small hiccup accompanied her, somehow still, coherent words.
The cleric stared into her drink. After taking even a whiff of the stout, she knew it would be extremely strong for her taste. Forget the taste, the scent of the alcohol caused Ophilia to already feel heady. She glanced at Cyrus and Olberic, both drinking from the mugs as they eyed their companion with little expression, more intrigue. Finishing their drinks, and still appearing in control of themselves, spoke to the men's constitution.
Sighing, Ophilia decided to bite the arrow. Taking a sip, the potent drink seemed to slam into the back of her head, causing her to cough. The remaining group of travelers chuckled at the sight.
"Take it slow, Ophilia," Olberic commented with a smirk. "Drinks in the Highlands are as strong as the mountains. This brew, in particular, is a specialty of Cobbleston."
"Is that so?" Ophilia responded at the end of her coughing fit. Before speaking again, she took another sip to clear her throat, better prepared for the drink. Even after considering the potency and taste, the stout still hit her stomach hard. "Would this be why the town is full of hardy individuals?"
The warrior guffawed. "That, and the food. Breeds tough men and proud women. Drinking this stout reminds me why I stayed here for as long as I have. I will miss this town, but there is a journey I must take."
"Oh, that is such a badass, knightly thing to say! What is it?" Tressa interrupted excitedly, jumping to her feet and leaning on the table. "Could it be to find a missing prince? Or to slay a dragon!? Wait, wait, I know! You need to save a princess from a devilish monster guarding a tall tower in a volcano in the Canyonlands!"
Olberic, though speaking seriously, rubbed the back of his head, entertained by the young merchant. "Those are fantastical ideas, Tressa, far too fantastical for my own tale, mind you. Mine is a more personal matter that, for the time being, I wish to keep to myself."
"Aw… 's no fair…"
At Tressa's pouting, the warrior chuckled warmly. "Don't worry. Someday, you will know my tale. For now, let us celebrate and toast to our budding group of vagabonds."
"Here, here!" Ophilia chimed, her face turning red from her drink. "To Olberic! The Unbending Blade!"
"Here, here!"
Glasses thudded happily as the group clinked their mugs together. Cyrus and Olberic finished theirs off at the same time, waving the waitress over for another almost as soon as their empty mugs hit the table. Ophilia, meanwhile, still had half of her stout left. A burp escaped her lips, causing her cheeks to lighten up even more as she covered her mouth with a distressed noise.
"Excuse me…" she mumbled.
Tressa laughed hysterically at the sight. "It's so adorable when you get embarrassed, Ophilia. Even more so when you burp!"
"Tressa…"
"No, no. She is right, my dear. There is a certain attractiveness in a woman blushing. Perhaps it's a man's want to cause such a reaction?" the scholar inquired as he unintentionally flirted with the cleric. "Even so, it is a delight for most to see a beautiful lady's cheeks light up like the horizon surrounding a rising sun."
"Professor…" Ophilia mumbled, the redness in her face only growing deeper.
"What flowery words, Professor Albright. A bachelor through and through, I suppose," Olberic commented as the two men received their new drinks.
They both took a sip before Cyrus retorted dramatically.
"Bachelor I am, but only in marriage. In profession, I am dutifully wedded to my studies."
"Married to your profession? A good man, but do not forget to enjoy that which you reap."
"And I do just that, Olberic."
"To doing just that."
The two men raised their drinks, with Ophilia sluggishly meeting theirs and Tressa holding her empty mug upside down as all four travelers brought their stouts together in yet another toast.
"It would seem you are able to hold your drink well, Professor Albright," Olberic commented, feeling some of the initial effects of his beverage. "I can't even tell if you are actually drinking, or if you switched your stout out for something softer."
"Well, if you wish to test the genuineness of my constitution, have a sip yourself," Cyrus reassured with a smirk, offering his mug to the warrior.
Instincts dulled by the alcohol, Olberic ignored them and snatched the proffered drink from the scholar's hand. "I'll do just that!"
Cautious, as to not drink too much, the warrior took a sip before returning the container to its owner. Wiping his face, Olberic commented, "Yup, that's a drink all right! Seems to be much stronger than mine, too. What in hells' names do you have in there, professor?"
Cyrus sat his drink on the table. "This drink, Olberic, is a concoction of mine, in that I asked the bartender to add a splash of firewater to the base stout. It is a drink I occasionally ask for back in Atlasdam after a long day's research. Usually puts the spirit right back in me, if I do say so myself."
"Wish I knew that recipe myself, could have used it a few days of my life," Olberic drawled. For a moment, his mind lamented on his fallen liege, thinking back to the treachery from his closest friend. The stout thinking more than his mind, it was, but he still couldn't help to feel the familiar sorrow of losing his kingdom.
"Could use it now, actually," the former knight of Hornburg whispered, hoping his sullen words would not be heard. Not an actor or patron of the performing arts, his demeanor and expression were all too easily read by Cyrus and Ophilia.
"Hornburg was a staunch kingdom," the professor comforted, placing his hand on the warrior's shoulder. "I know not what you seek on your journey, save having it to do with avenging your king. What I do know is that you honor its lineage in battle."
A dull smile peeked on Olberic's face. "There are those flowery words again, Professor."
"You'll have to get used to it, Olberic," Ophilia spoke wholeheartedly, throwing her proper speech out the door as she drank more of her flagon. "We are traveling companions now, after all. Perhaps, someday, when we are friends, we can rely on each other to better continue our journeys."
"Thanks to you, Ophilia. You are right." Olberic brightened up at their words, already beginning to form a trust with his newfound allies. "For now, though, we travel to find our other companions. Four remain, correct?"
"Indubitably. We shall travel to the Sunlands next to better acquaint ourselves with both the territory and undoubtedly find a willing addition to our company," Cyrus affirmed. "Teller's tales are unfolding as he predicted."
"From the few words you have spoken of the bard, it would seem so. Truly wonderous."
"Yes, I ponder when we will meet him again, though I believe that day is fast approaching, in a tavern in lands we have yet traversed," Cyrus contemplated. "Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. For now, these taverns will serve as a place of respite and drink. Speaking of, Olberic, have the remainder of mine. I am afraid my constitution is lessened in this higher elevation, so I could use the respite."
Noticing something behind Cyrus, Olberic smirked, hiding his laughter for the moment. "Gladly, Professor, but I believe Tressa has claimed that task."
"Hm?"
Cyrus and Ophilia turned towards the youngest member of their trio, noticing too late that she had swiped the scholar's drink while he wasn't watching. Just as she had with her first alcoholic beverage, Tressa was now chugging away at the dangerous brew of Highland stout and firewater. Before anyone could stop her, she finished the drink with a satisfying sound, red now highlighting her cheeks and her lithe body swaying in her chair.
"Wowza! That sure is something, Pro… Profes… Professor, um… Aldim…?" Tressa slurred, a dangerous drunken haze overtaking her. "Albright! Wait, no, that's it! That's it… Yeah…"
Taking full effect, the alcohol in the merchant's system hit her like a stampeding goat, knocking her over on her chair. She fell to the floor hard, causing the rest of her companions to jump out of their seats to help her. Expecting to see a messy sight before them, the group instead found Tressa happily snoozing away in a drunkard's dream.
Relieved that she was at least unharmed, Tressa's companions smiled and shook their heads, amused by the young merchant's antics.
"I believe it is time for bed, then," Olberic stated. "We must be prepared for tomorrow, after all. The Sunlands are no place for mistakes. Here, I'll take her."
Coming around to Tressa's side, the warrior carried the merchant with ease, picking her up in his arms bridal style. Not knowing who was holding her, Tressa snuggled into Olberic earning a round of chuckles from the group.
They made to leave the tavern then, trudging to the local inn: Olberic carrying Tressa, Cyrus her pack, and Ophilia sneaking the last of her ale past the bartender.
In the moonlight, their silhouettes resembled that of a happy band, marching to the beat of their own tunes.
In the Highlands, warmth is a scarce necessity that must be regulated well:
too hot, one would catch themselves alight in a fire; too cold, one would find themselves frozen atop one of the region's myriad of mountains.
Yet there was always one sure way to secure such a necessity in such a cold, rugged land.
That is, circle yourself amongst friends, with stories to tell, food to eat, and hearty drink.
Amongst this group of companions, to survive their journeys, they would need to keep this warmth securely blanketed over themselves…