Chereads / Blood, Wolves, and Death / Chapter 8 - Wine and Whiskey

Chapter 8 - Wine and Whiskey

The sun emerged from behind the mountainscape, it's warm glow illuminating the land around it. The wind however, was still as cold as ever. With snow crunching beneath our feet, we spotted the large fields devoid of crops due to the winter.

"Come on, you can walk faster than that", Isolla spoke in a cheery tone.

I on the other hand was suffering. I hadn't slept well and we walked for the entire night. I almost cried when I saw the town. I could finally rest in a nice inn.

We were currently heading down along a dirt road. Thereby providing us with a nice view of the town.

Farmers could be seen still tending to the soil, keeping it healthy for the new crops of the next seasons. Every strike of their hoe, providing a gateway to new life.

Wagons passed by as others drew near on horseback.

2 guards stood on either end of a large wooden gate.

One of the guards walked towards us, "State your business".

He clearly sounded utterly fed up by our arrival as if we were a nuisance.

"Work and residence for 3 days and 3 nights", Scott replied, a glare in his eye.

"4 coppers", the guard smirked as he looked Scott in the eye.

"That's twice the regular", Issola interjected.

Snapping his fingers, 5 guards who stood atop the walls on their watchtowers, drew their bows.

Scott, looked the guard in the eye for a few more seconds, before resigning to handing him the money.

I watched as Scott, a very powerful man, was pushed around. It was unfair, yes. However, it's not like he could fight the entire town. Really goes to show how strength isn't everything.

We walked passed the guards through the gate and into town.

"Fucking Greyheart", the guard mumbled as he looked at the dark grey insignia on Scott's coat. "Next!"

The houses displayed on either side weren't much to look at. They seemed compact. Most houses were joined together, only parting when leading into alleys and streets.

The streets weren't bricked or paved, though they still felt firmer than the dirt roads on the outside.

Men, women and children roamed the streets, heading to and from their homes.

Small stalls serving food, and other knick-knacks and household goods, stood few and far between, on the edges of the streets.

Some of the unfortunate looked worn and helpless as they gazed up towards the sky, their hands holding large metal cups, hoping for spare change.

Issola made sure to spare a copper or two when finding people like them.

Soon, we came upon a sign with the words, "Groundhog's Tavern".

"Tav-ern, finally... sleeeeeeep", I could barely hold in my tears.

"Issola, take Ford, I have work to do", Scott said, before heading down the street and turning into an alleyway.

"He really doesn't know when to quit", she sighed, gesturing me inside.

The Tavern wasn't very lively, understandably so, as it was still noon. I wonder how it is at night. Round wooden tables were set up in an irregular fashion around the room. Multiple wooden chairs surrounded these tables, as men and women, mostly men, drank like there was no tomorrow. The lady at the bar, served massive wooden cups, that could probably empty one of the liquor barrels, with just a few refills.

The lady was large and muscular, with her watching, I doubt anyone would even dare to pick a fight, or complain about the food. She had a deep and hearty voice, laughing along with the drunkards as they told stories of their glory days, or their "demonic" wives acting stubborn and cruel again.

Issola rung the bell, catching the lady's attention.

"Name's Girtha, how can I help ya", she asked charismatically in her deep, hearty voice. With her here, I could understand why people choose to come, even during the day.

"2 rooms for the next three nights", Issola replied trying to match Gortha's energy.

"Hahahaha, I like you, 1 silver a night per room", she pulled out 2 keys from a drawer.

Issola pulled out 6 silver coins, taking the keys and tossing one towards me.

"Get some rest, you need it".

Running up the stairs, I found room 26. Unlocking the door, I jumped to the bed and *snore*.

- - - - -

[It's all your fault]

[IT'S ALL your fault]

[IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT]

Ugh, I woke up with an aching forehead and sheets drenched in sweat. I need to buy new clothes. Walking downstairs, I heard the cheering of men and women. I was still very out of it, but with every step, came louder cheering and me snapping closer into reality.

"Issola! Issola! Issola!", they chanted.

"What's going ON?!", I looked at the maniacal group who seeming lost their minds.

Issola was stood at a table, large muscular men, lay motionless beside her feet. One's chest moved, so at least they're still breathing.

Her elbow placed on the table, she stretched her hand out to another macho man. They were arm wrestling. I didn't know if Issola could win. Those scrawny looking arms surely couldn't win against those bulging muscles, I wiped some drool away. Anyways, I assumed the man she was challenging had already defeated all those guys on the floor. But I couldn't really approach her with the entire crowd at her side.

Surely that guy wouldn't go too hard on her, right?

"Come on big guy, are those muscles just for show?", she slurred her words as she hiccuped multiple times.

"You've really done it now, little lady", he flexed his bicep as he held onto Issola's hand.

A guy in a white and black t-shirt which clearly did not match this era, whistled signalling the start of the match.

The man's face contorted as he tried to push Issola's hand to the table.

He was clearly having a hard time, looks like she was putting up a good fight. I glanced back to their grip and noticed how... Issola's hand hadn't moved an inch.

Issola yawned for a couple seconds, though macho man looked like he wouldn't be able to keep up this sorry effort much longer.

And yet in a way, Issola's taunts looked to give him newfound strength, as he tried to push even harder.

In the next instant, macho man was flung to the ground as Issola pushed his hand to the table, though the sudden force was so dreadfully strong, the man found his chin collide with its corner.

His mouth lay agape as his eyes moved up, like he were knocked out. Or rather he really was.

I can see why there are so many men on the floor now.

"YO, Ford, come have a go against me!", she called out in her drunk stupor.

"Nononono, I am ok just standing here", I waved my hands trying to show how 'ok' I was.

"Chicken".

...

...

"Chicken!"

"Chicken!"

"Chicken!"

The crowd began to chant in unison, if they think I would fall for such petty taunts then-

A man crashed into me, some of his liquor falling into my mouth.

THEY'RE DAMN RIGHT!

"Come at me!".

"I can feel your warriors spirit boy, you've grown well and so I will match that spirit of yours with equal power!", a tear rolled down her eye as she clenched her fist.

"GRAAAAAAH", I yelled powering up.

And was then tossed aside to join the pile of 'dead' bodies.

At least the sudden crash turned me sober.

"Issola, huh?", a man came into view, his figure looking down on me.

"Issola...".

He tossed a book at me.

"Your father's", he said. "It should satisfy that curiosity of yours for now".

He walked away.

A dark brown book, with a skull, a wolf, and fangs on its cover. Yellowed pages that showed how old it was. Torn and scuffed edges that looked like battle scars.

This it is, my answers.