Ch 7: Come Together
"I thought you said Janan was a town?" Gabe asked in disbelief.
"It is a town," Misty's disembodied voice replied.
"No…" he stated incredulously, "that's twelve buildings on a muddy crossroads."
"Yes…a town." She leaned down to stare at him from atop his hood, "What's the problem?"
Gabe growled low in his throat. "Nothing." Pulling the hood up a bit further, he made sure his ears were effectively covered. "Just hope they have a place we can dry out and get some chow." The sunset was veiled by low clouds casting a premature night on the sleepy village. I thought my hometown was small. Least we had a stoplight.
Every building he could see sported steep thickly thatched roofs. Anything over two stories had jettied floors. Dim firelight glowed from a handful of windows. The smell of turned soil mixed with green growth filled the air. So much for gathering intel. Gabe doubted this place had a dedicated library. Most of the residence energy would be better used tending the fields surrounding the town. Maybe I'll get lucky. I'm certainly due some.
A solitary guard clutching a lantern and a billhook stood as the only visible security for the 'town.' Lacking walls, a moat, or even a presentable fence, one couldn't keep a cow out of such a place. At least the man was awake enough to do his job.
"Watcher business?" he asked. His voice had a thick country burl that made Gabe think of English cottages and high hedgerows. Not Scottish but very northern. "Oy! Watcher doin 'ere?" The man's sharp tone shook Gabe out of his thoughts.
Apologizing, Gabe hastily explained he was passing through and just needed a place to stay for the night. The guard grumbled pointing towards one of the larger buildings at the town's center. Thanking him Gabe moved on. Other than blinking curiously at the riderless horse that followed the elf, the Guard merely returned to his vigil. "Foreigners," he grunted.
Once they were far enough out of earshot Gabe couldn't help but chuckle. "Man, that accent was thick," he felt Misty shift invisibly atop his head, "Could barely understand him." Misty had suggested she stay out of sight for the duration of their stay. Having no desire to draw any unnecessary attention Gabe agreed.
"Glad one of us could," she mumbled sounding a bit annoyed. Even if certain mystical creatures were commonplace in Faerun it paid to be cautious. A pixie would still be a strange sight especially in a backwater hamlet like Janan.
"How's that?" he asked curiously.
He could feel her upside-down gaze drill into him. "I don't understand common," she stated.
What were you listening to? "But he wasn't," Gabe retorted touching a thumb to his chest. "I understood him just fine."
Her condescension was so palpable he could practically feel her eyes rolling. "Because you both were speaking common."
Gabe stumbled a step. Fortunately, the street was empty enough no one could overhear their conversation. "How the hell can I be speaking…" It was like waking up in the forest all over again. Both overwhelming and annoying. The migraine was also beginning to return with his renewed frustration. Rubbing his eyes, Gabe waved off the issue. "You know what? Forget about it!" This world just wouldn't stop and behave the way it should. I am too damn tired and hungry to figure this shit out, right now!
As he approached the tavern, he noticed several locals were eyeballing him. They were pointing and murmuring behind hoods and shawls. Subtle as a neon sign. News traveled fast in small towns. He'd hoped to arrive unnoticed, but a hooded elf being followed by a horse tended to draw attention.
"What'd Ive do exactly?" Gabe whispered keeping a wary eye out.
"Oh, just…broke a few pots." Misty whispered back, "I'm sure it'll be fine." He felt one of her hands brush his ear again. "All elves look alike to humans anyways" Gabe suppressed a cringe. That doesn't make me feel any better.
At the door, he turned to find Sunny standing next to the porch. Glancing at the entrance he said, "doubt you'll fit." The mare continued to stare obstinately at him. "So…just stay." He held his hands out palms down. "Okay? Stay." Sunny looked at the door and back before shaking her head with a snort. Gabe didn't have to speak equine to know a 'no shit sherlock' when he heard one.
Keep it up! At this point, I'll trade you for a sack of onions!
The light of the tavern was just bright enough he could make out the faces of a dozen patrons, a couple serving girls, and a barkeep. Unlike every western he'd ever seen, none of the gambling, drinking or carousing so much as faltered when he stepped in. A few gazes followed him to the bar but most of the people could care less.
That's one cliché I'm happy to avoid.
With a grunt, Gabe sank onto one of the few open barstools, grateful to finally be off his feet. If he was being honest with himself, despite the anxiety Gabe hadn't felt so good in years. Sure, he was hungry and fatigued, but the 30-year-old was noticing several absent sensations. Last time he'd conducted a long hike he'd suffered shin splints and his lower back had been sore for days. There had also been reoccurring knee and shoulder pain. Despite his fitness, nearly seven years in combat arms hadn't done his body any favors. But now…
It's like I'm eighteen again minus the testosterone poisoning. Looking down at his palm he had to wonder just how fit Ivellios was. Had he inherited all the elven warrior's physical prowess? The sheer lack of lethargy after so much exertion seemed to support the theory. I feel like I could do a full Physical Fitness Test, max it, and hike the same distance all over again, easy.
The approaching bartender forced the thoughts to the back of his mind. The man didn't ask what he wanted. He just stared down at him expectantly. Clearing his throat Gabe asked, "Err…could I get some-."
"Ye got coin?" he interrupted with a similar accent to the guards.
Gabe blanched at the mention of currency. Shit! Stupid! He'd walked in without thinking ahead. How could he possibly pay if he was flat broke? Thinking fast, he didn't like the idea of trading any of his supplies or magical items for a night at the inn. Not that he was personally attached to any of it, he simply didn't want to get screwed out of their actual value.
"What will this get me?" from around his neck Gabriel yanks a braided leather necklace. Attached to it was a gold plate a bit larger than one of his dog-tags. One side was engraved with Ive's name and 'Level 4' in what he assumed was the common script. The opposite side held the same info but in elvish.
Misty had explained it was his Guild Tag. He'd discovered it while traveling because the damn thing kept chaffing his chest. It identified him as a Level 4 Gold Ranked Guildmember. It would be useful in so far as getting guild work, but other than that it was only worth its weight in…well…gold.
The barkeep hefted the tag. He murmured something about 'tough times for ye' before saying, "It'll get ye a meal and a bed for the night." He gestured to a boy who hurried out the door. "Lad'll tend to ye horse as well."
Gabe offered up a warning about Sunny's attitude, but when he heard no ruckus, he figured the Mare had behaved. So, you'll obey a kid but not me? You're not even worth the sack of onions! Outwardly he nodded his thanks to the barkeep.
Absentmindedly Gabe noticed he could understand the man as well as the other patrons as easily as the guard. Thinking back Gabe wondered how they'd managed to communicate so smoothly. Conversing with the pixie for so long he'd forgotten they were speaking Sylvan. In his fatigue, Gabe had spoken on reflex to the guard. Focusing he recalled that besides his accent his voice carried a unique undertone. As if on the surface he was hearing English, but beneath that was…something else. Maybe I'm subconsciously translating it when I hear or speak it. That made about as much sense as anything else. Later though.
"Watcher drinken?" the bartender asked pocketing the gold.
Gabe doubted they had Dr. Pepper or Lipton on tap, so he decided on the next best thing. "Just gimme some water."
"Water!?" the man scoffed making a couple nearby patron's guffaw. "Lad ye want water go dip ye head in the horse trough." As he spoke, he pulled out a wooden mug. "What we got is ale, mead, and beer."
Gabe had walked God knew how many miles eating the occasional low carb trail ration. He was tired and hungry. The last thing he needed was alcohol. Fuck my luck… Beggars can't be choosers. "Fine, beer and a platter of…whatever." The words had barely left his mouth before the bartender had filled the mug near to the brim. Brown froth kissed the rim before settling. The fermented hops stung his nose. It was perhaps the darkest beer Gabe had ever seen. Jesus, maybe I should've stuck with the trough.
"They're watching you," Misty whispered. Gabe growled in annoyance. Sure, enough the men to his left and right as well as the bartender were observing. His instincts told him other nearby patrons were as well. Probably hoping I'll choke for a cheap laugh. They might get there wish. Not since his divorce settlement had he so much as tasted alcohol.
Oh well…over the lips, and through the gums…tilting the cup back he took a single large gulp. He managed to turn his gag into a sigh of contentment, though he doubted it fooled anybody. It didn't roll in his stomach but that didn't stop it burning all the way down. He may have kept Ive's tolerance, but Gabe still despised the taste. It was all he could do not to cough and spit the rotgut out.
"Say there, elfkin," the man to his right said touching his shoulder. "Ye long way from home." Gabe's eye watered at the stench of alcohol emanating from him. He could barely make out yellow teeth through a full grimy beard. "Who ye be?"
More eyes seemed to fall on him, as a sense of curiosity filled the room. Well…shit… That was a good question. Who was he? A reputation could mean everything in a world like this, and Gabe doubted they had a positive opinion on Ivellios. If they knew his name. On the flip side, no one would recognize his earth name, rank, and affiliation like back home. This was a new world where he had a fresh start. Ive had the history, but Gabriel Mathis had fuck all.
Who am I then…?
"What's the matter, elfkin," the drunk slurred, leaning in a bit closer than Gabe liked. "Ye missing ye mums utters?" The man's insinuation was clear, even if his words weren't. By not speaking Gabe was being judged weak. The weak had no respect in this world. They were prayed upon. He couldn't afford to be weak.
Improvise… overcome… adapt…
"As a matter-of-fact," he said slowly setting the drink down, "I am." He suddenly rounded on the man jabbing a finger into his chest. "But not as much as your mama's cooking." His voice was low, but the hard edge carried throughout the room drawing surprised gasps from onlookers. Any remaining activity came to a stunning halt. It was a cheesy line one might hear out of those old spaghetti westerns, but… fuck it!
The man, probably a local farmer, seemed to sober up when he realized the elf, he'd been annoying was both armed and armored. "W-where ye say ye from, elfkin?"
Gabe resisted the urge to swallow the nervous lump in his throat and focused instead on keeping his eyes sharp and unblinking. He had their attention, now he'd better not waste it. "I'm…from the west," he pointed beyond the walls of the Inn. "The far west… In a land…of spacious skies…over amber waves of grain," he gestured grandly as he spoke. "Where majestic purple mountains shelter fruited plains." The crowd actually 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at his words. Hot damn and those assholes bullied me for taking drama.
"Sounds beautiful," a serving maid commented.
"Yes," Gabe agreed, "It is." He felt a little dirty ripping off a famous song, but… it's technically true. The familiar lyrics caused a pang of nostalgia that had him reaching unconsciously for the dark beer. America…the beautiful, despite its flaws, … it was his home. And I may never see it again…fuck…
"So why'd ye leave," the drunk demanded. He seemed to find a bit more liquid courage, "If'n it's so grand?" Gabe froze, barely managing to keep his face composed. Why'd I leave? His pulse pounded in his ears at the words. Like I had a goddamn choice!? Gabe wheeled around to confront the patron. The man shrank beneath the elf's hard gaze. He wasn't sure where this rage was bubbling up from. It might've been fatigue, combined with the stress, but Gabe's temper was getting the better of him.
"Keep it together!" He wasn't sure if that was Misty or his inner voice cautioned, but it barely leashed his anger.
"You want to know?" he asked in a low strained voice. Cause I sure as hell would! Despite his fear the drunk nodded. "I went to fight the heathens that murdered soldiers and innocents alike!" He stood and faced the crowd, "My name is Gabriel Mathis!" "He slammed a fist to his chest. "I fought in the deserts of the east and swamps of the south." His hand curled around the handle of his sword. "I've led men into battle and rained hellfire from the heavens!" Turning he eyed the man whose drunken expression had morphed into one of awe. "That's who I am."
The tavern was in complete silence as Gabe turned to the inn keep. "I'll take that food in my room if you don't mind." The man blinked and slowly nodded pointing to the stairs. Gabe turned and followed a barmaid to the second floor. He was offered the Inn's one single occupant room. The woman mentioned something about breakfast time, before leaving but Gabe barely heard her.
The moment the door closed behind her Gabe expelled the massive breath he'd been holding. Knees trembling, he barely managed to find the edge of the bed. Clutching his head, he stared at the floor in utter bewilderment.
Holy shit! Where'd that come from?