Marlon opened his eyes, touching his face as he frowned with his eyes narrowed. "What time is it?"
The room looked rural. The walls and floor were made of a somewhat worn wood with a light gray finish. The place was small, with only a small straw bed and a small closet made, it seemed, of the same wood as the walls. On one of the walls, to Marlon's right, there was a window, in which you could see the end of the sunset, which began a new morning. "It's dawn, it's time to feed the pigs," Marlon said as he stretched his arms, trying to put an end to his drowsiness.
Marlon went down the ladders until he reached the lower part of the building, which was more of a kind of barn with a second floor adapted for housing. At the bottom you could see how there were piles of hay.
Marlon went outside as the sun beat down on his face, making it difficult for him to see. He looked to the right of him and saw a well, walked towards it and got some water. "First it would be good for them to drink plenty of water, so they will eat less of the swill that I collect in the village. Maybe I should get some sugar and put it in the water, that way I'll save more. My pockets are already hurting from those pigs eating so much, especially that damn Mr. Pickless, he won't stop eating like a pig... wait, he's actually a pig..."
He walked towards the pigsty. The place was roofed with thatch, which was supported by columns on the sides. The walls were actually half-meter bars made of wood. "Pigs, it's time to eat!" Marlon said as he carried the bucket of water in one hand, and a bucket of swill in the other.
As Marlon approached, he noticed that there was a large hole in the middle of the pigsty, with a fleshy protuberance protruding from it. "What the fuck is that, where are my pigs?" he said in panic. Those pigs, along with the small barn where he lived were the only thing left of his late grandfather, and his only means of support.
A kind of green gas came out of the fleshy protuberance. The thing seemed alive, yes, but it didn't move other than to shake as if it were constantly inflating and deflating, but this in a subtle way, so it seemed to be its way of saying that it was breathing.
When Marlon saw that the thing did nothing but stay in the hole in the ground while he seemed to fart, he moved a little closer to the fence of the pigsty. "You better not have eaten my pigs, you ugly thing. Although if you can look for truffles I will spare your life, lately those pigs couldn't find a damn, just wallowing in mud all day while they ate and slept. They didn't even play. Do you know how long I waited for a little piglet? Those sell quite well, although I would prefer to try such tender meat." The fleshy thing squeaked a little, but it didn't move.
Apparently this thing is not dangerous, for now. If I weren't in that hole and behind the wooden fences I wouldn't even dare get close. Should I go in and take a closer look? But what the fuck am I saying?! Am I going crazy?! First I should verify that that thing won't move, and then see if my pigs survived.
...
Poof... it's been 5 hours and that thing isn't moving. I'm starting to get hungry, but I don't want to leave this meaty ball unattended... well, what would be the worst that could happen? I'll quickly go check the traps I left in the forest and come right back.
...
"Tell me, sir, what is this liquor made of?" Said the man, who raised the glass as he looked at the liquid inside. He seemed a little careless. He had red hair with an orange hue, which fell to his shoulders and stopped at his chest, and his beard was a little unkempt. He wore a fine purple robe, a sign of his mage status.
"It is wine made many years ago by a small farm in the west. My father bought this wine when I was not born. I brought it out especially for you, Your Excellency." The innkeeper said.
"As far as I know, the farm stopped producing a long time ago. "There is only one teenager left who occasionally comes to town to sell truffles a couple of times a year."
"This star fruit wine is quite good," said the magician, as he enjoyed a last sip of the yellow liquid in his glass.
"Don, what do you say we pay a visit to that farm?"
"As you wish my lord, but remember that this territory is protected by the magician Felicia, it would not be wise to make too much fuss." Don had black eyes, a top hat and was wearing a gentleman's suit.
"Relax, we'll just go find that recipe for this wine. I've drunk star fruit wines over 100 years old before and none like this. I have to add it to my collection. Especially with this fruit. The Sofistica Association sold it to the public just ago 500 years, after they have found it on one of their conquered planes. Do you know of any other fruit from another plane, that has grown on this plane, that is at least 500 years old, and that its wine is as good?
"I want to believe that your question is rhetorical, my lord, because it is too specific." Don said, perplexed.
"Enough chatter, let's take a walk around the farm."