POV: Bash
Location: Southern Empire
It has been three days since I came to Castle of Dragons, the village hosting the last legacy of the Dark Ages.
Only three gold coins remained in my pocket, sitting at a table in the sword garden, I was not able to get any high-paying job, all the jobs so far pay below five gold coins, not enough to buy me a Vave card.
The beer mug in my hand was made of crushed silver bones, the same color as the chair and table in front of me, it is even the same color as the emblem of the noble family ruling the domain around here.
The Emblem was hung above the mission board at the corner of the room where I was sitting. It has a painting of a man riding a silver dragon holding a dark sword, the dark king they call him, he vanished with all the dragons hundreds of years ago.
"Care to order something," a waiter wearing a silver and white uniform asked.
I drank the last drop of my beer then lifted the mug towards her, "another cup of beer would be fine."
"Got that," she replied, collecting my mug and walking away from me.
With my beer gone, the bustling noises of other diners returned, grown-ass men, ripping apart meat from a whole leg, their teeth sinking in roasted lamp and pork delicacies.
"Roar...Rorr...Rorr," a burst of laughter wafted from the corner of the eatery, "there is no pleasant feeling than landing a perfect strike, cutting a human head without the person even realizing they have been cut." A man wearing an iron helmet said, twisting and twirling his beer-sucked hair.
"Donald, we are in the sword garden," the person sitting next to him said.
"Don't give me that," Donald yelled, slamming the mug he was holding on the table. "I am a retired lieutenant from the white army, I can do what I want, after all, sword garden is full of scumbags that just want to make money killing people, unlike the army I served in."
He had a long gulp of his beer, brushing his mouth with bare hands, he continued, "Guys like me defended whatever of the peace was left after the war, I deserve to do what I want."
A wave of laughter roared across the whole section where Donald was sitting, "You sound so holy Donald," a person said then everybody burst out laughing.
"Words coming out of the man who recently joined a contest to see who can do the cleanest beheading, I feel moved." Another wave of laughter resonated this time throughout the entire hall. All eyes stared at Donald, a man with a long bear and an axe resting beside him.
"Scumbags," he mustered a silent chuckle.
A hand tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to a waiter holding a silver mug.
"Its your beer," she said.
"Thanks," I collected the beer, handing over three silver coins to her.
My seat was close to the other waiters standing behind a stone bar, I was facing the direction of the door when the sound of a bell rang, coming from the door being pushed open by someone.
Three ladies walked in each dress in battle dresses, their swords rested in the scabbard along their waist, on the sight of the white dress paired with dark lines across it. people began to hiss, "the white army folks."