Mr. Fast didn't return alone. He brought a friend from the city—a female dwarf.
Dwarves might sound interesting to those with certain preferences, but their barrel-like physique, inherent to their race, would likely discourage such notions.
To better understand, imagine someone with roughly the same weight as a human but only reaching an adult's stomach in height.
Most crucially, even female dwarves possessed thick, coarse beards and body hair.
While An Nan could still view Tasia as female after learning her gender, he found it difficult to determine how to regard female dwarves.
The female dwarf was named Soluman Copperbeard, a very stereotypical dwarf name.
Nevertheless, An Nan was curious and wanted to chat with Soluman Copperbeard, but she didn't take to him. By dwarven standards of beauty, An Nan, with his lack of body hair and non-wheat-colored skin, looked like a plucked quail.
"What about me?" Martin, proud of his abundant body hair, approached trying to help An Nan gain favor, only to be kicked away by Mr. Fast.
"Go wipe the tables, and don't let me find any dust."
Mr. Fast and the female dwarf descended into the tavern's cellar. Evelyn wiped the counter while An Nan opened the tavern's doors and windows to disperse the musty wood smell.
Beyond the rooftops, the sky displayed a brilliant sunset. Sparse pedestrians headed home, and this moment of tranquility and beauty helped An Nan understand why an elite professional would choose to run a tavern here.
However, for a boy, nothing was more appealing than adventure and stories.
"It's going to rain," An Nan muttered while wiping the windowsill, gazing at the sunset.
"I hope so," said the bard, appearing outside the window with his lute, the feather in his hat swaying in the evening breeze.
"You like rain too?"
"The atmosphere's just better for storytelling." The bard stepped into the tavern, hanging his hat on the rack. "Your Common has improved."
An Nan accepted the compliment: "Haven't seen you in town these days?"
While attention-seekers weren't necessarily bards, all bards were attention-seekers, and An Nan hadn't heard of the bard's whereabouts lately.
The bard explained he'd gone to the neighboring town, but was driven out by fellow bards before he could start performing. He'd fortunately met Mr. Fast and hitched a ride to Breezetown.
So when Mr. Fast and Soluman Copperbeard came up from the cellar, he greeted them without surprise.
The tavern reopened, with Mr. Fast and Soluman Copperbeard discussing business in a corner. Evelyn watched the counter, Martin looked everywhere at once, and An Nan urged the bard to begin today's stories.
Having been closed for seven days, the tavern had few customers tonight, all regulars An Nan knew. Noticing An Nan's interest in dwarves, the bard shared many dwarf-related tales.
Beyond the well-known facts about dwarves' love for drinking and forging, he spoke of the mutual dislike between dwarves and elves, and the tavern-appropriate ribald question: whether human-dwarf unions produced half-dwarves or dwarves.
Soluman Copperbeard officially certified that dwarves and humans couldn't produce offspring.
An Nan knew this as reproductive isolation, but Soluman Copperbeard claimed it was dwarf deities preventing the contamination of dwarven bloodlines—
This topic led to an interesting chain of prejudices: humans typically represented orthodoxy, orcs represented barbarism, elves represented pride, dwarves represented stubbornness, and ratfolk represented reproduction.
Soluman Copperbeard scoffed at this, declaring humans had the lowest potential among major races. Orc youths possessed level 1 warrior strength. Elves were born excellent rangers. Ratfolk could multiply dozens of times in one summer. While dwarven forging wasn't innate, an adult dwarf's arm was twice as thick as a human's—
This assessment showed no bias toward any race, and even the bard could only euphemistically agree that "humans were the most balanced race."
Dragons became legendary just by reaching adulthood, while godspawn possessed terrifying innate powers.
Potential corresponded with reproductive ability. Thus, in this world and others, human potential wasn't particularly high.
The "orthodoxy" likely stemmed from humans' presence in every world and divine favor.
"Bard, talk about something else," Mr. Fast rapped the table. Soluman Copperbeard had become distracted from their business discussion.
The bard strummed his lute, drawing the customers' and An Nan's attention back to his stories, sharing tales of Breezetown.
It was a city nestled in forests, connecting the snowy mountains of the north with the verdant plains of the south, with winding roads reaching in all directions. There, one could admire both the snow scenes of Northern Beorute and the endless plains.
A single street there could contain all of Pinelin Town, and throwing a bucket of water could splash dozens of professionals. The north gate teemed with adventurers and mercenary groups returning from mountain hunts.
An Nan listened entranced as time slipped away.
Around nine in the evening, muffled thunder sounded outside, accompanied by moaning winds.
Prophecy magic?
The bard looked at An Nan with surprise.
Customers gradually left, not wanting to be trapped in the tavern during the rain.
"We probably won't have more customers tonight."
Only drunkards would come to a tavern in the rain. Mr. Fast told An Nan and the others to hurry home before the rain started, saying they could clean up tomorrow.
After watching the three youngsters run out and closing the door against the cold wind, Fast looked at the bard who had set down his lute and sat before him.
"Aren't you leaving?"
"You won't believe what I discovered..." the bard pulled the oil lamp closer, speaking mysteriously: "An Nan might know prophecy magic..."
"He said it would rain when I arrived, and it was clear then."
"I could say that every day and eventually be right," Fast straddled the chair opposite.
"Prophecy magic? From a boy who doesn't know Common and has no magic?" Soluman Copperbeard chimed in.
"You're a warrior, you wouldn't know if he has magic, and he might be hiding it."
Fast realized the bard wouldn't speak without reason: "What did you discover?"
"I heard some news in Breezetown," the bard leaned closer to the lamp, his features becoming vivid and clear. "The next lord of Breezetown, the only male heir of the Reeves family, was attacked."
"What does this have to do with prophecy magic?" the impatient dwarf asked.
"Everything!"
The bard spoke in hushed tones, narrating his subsequent discoveries like a story: "I went around the city, hearing what the wind brought..."
"Everyone in the Reeves family has distinctive black hair."