Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1)

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Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) Page 22

by Grayson Sinclair


  Forgoing anything else, I made a beeline to the tavern, which also doubled as an inn, but I was more concerned with the variety of ale they served than the beds. Long days in the saddle had worked up a thirst, and the whiskey I’d brought hadn’t lasted half as long as I thought it would.

  As we rode closer to the tavern, I made out the name on the hanging sign jutting out next to the door.

  The Inn of Ill Repute. A strange name, but I don’t get any bad omens.

  It was a charming two-story building made of sturdy, freshly sawn wooden logs, with darkened windows that refused to let in light and a thick, slate stone roof. A glance behind the bar told me where the wood had come from. Dozens of tree stumps lay dotted next to the forest. The inn had a cozy, homey atmosphere, and the scents of the smoke rising from the cobblestone chimney hinted at delicious food.

  I was salivating at the thought of a proper meal. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed the meal last night, but fish had never been my favorite. I was hoping they had fresh boar. I would kill for a boar steak with freshly steamed potatoes.

  We dismounted Lacuna and I stabled her in the small, clean building next to the inn. As I opened the large oak door, darkness assaulted me along with the smell of meat that combined with the sweet, slightly stale scent of alcohol in the air. I kept Eris close to me as we walked in. She had her hood up, and her face pressed into my ribs.

  The inside of the inn was dark, though torches lined the walls, and a roaring fireplace provided heat to combat the chill from the stone flooring and ample lighting. Several patrons were seated at the various wooden tables, eating and drinking their fill. They seemed to be a mixture of farmhands and laborers. The East Kingdom was renowned for its farming and grain harvesting, so it made sense why the patrons were mostly farmers.

  What didn’t make sense were the splattering of adventurers around. Several hardy men and women clad in armor of various types and weapons strapped to their belts sat around drinking their fill and talking in hushed whispers.

  Ignoring the curious glances that came our way, we walked over to the bar, a huge slab of oak freshly stained that had yet to be worn down and soaked through by thousands of spilled drinks. There was a man stationed behind the bar who was, of course, cleaning a mug with a washrag when we approached.

  He was a tall man with broad shoulders, heavyset with muscle, but with a nice layer of fat over them. The hem of his dark tunic and leather apron stopped mid-bicep and showcased his arms, which were corded with muscle and bore numerous scars that descended to his hands and fingers.

  His hair was a rich chocolate, longer than mine. It fell well past his shoulders. A magnificent beard covered the lower half of his face, and he wore an eyepatch over his left eye. His right was one of startling green; it shone like a gem when the light from the fire reflected in his iris. He bore numerous laugh lines around his eyes and wore a constant smirk across his lips.

  I liked the man immediately, and I’d have bet my entire purse of gold that he was a former adventurer or soldier.

  He smiled widely as we approached, showing off white teeth, giving me the standard once over that all adventurers give one another, glancing over my gear and weapons, trying to discern my intentions. I passed his test, it seemed, as he offered me his hand.

  His hand engulfed mine, and he pumped his arm vigorously. His smile was as infectious as Eris’s, and I couldn’t help but grin back at the giant bear.

  “Howdy, there. Good to meetcha!” he said, “Name’s Rufio, but everyone calls me Ruff.”

  “Hi, there. I’m Duran.”

  Ruff glanced down at Eris, who was still sticking close to me. He smiled at the sight of Eris peeking out of her hood, though her eyes were still covered. “And who is this little lady?”

  “I’m Eris. It’s nice to meet you,” she said. Her voice, while soft, was strong and clear.

  She’s not afraid of humans. She’s hiding because I asked her to. Can’t help it, though. Don’t want to attract attention. Ruff chuckled deeply, amused by her antics and melodious voice.

  “What can I do for you two lovebirds?” he asked.

  I withdrew one of the smaller pouches of gold and slid two gold coins across the bar. “A room for the night, preferably one with a bath if you have it, and a meal.”

  He glanced at the two gold coins. It was far more money than a room, and a meal should ever cost. At most, it should be a fistful of copper, but being a former adventurer himself, Ruff knew what the extra money was for, and he swept the two coins into his pocket with a nod. He pulled out a small key cast in bronze and handed it to me.

  “Upstairs, first door on the left. Our cook is just about to start on dinner if you don’t mind waiting, or we have some bread and cheese to tide you over,” Ruff said.

  I shook my head. “Waiting is perfectly fine with us.”

  I looked down at Eris. I tapped her on the head to get her attention. Her compound eyes gazed up at me. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get a bath? The food should be ready once you’re finished.”

  “You don’t want to join me?”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “As appealing as that sounds, I'll stick down here and keep an eye on things.”

  Eris nodded her head and took the key from me, making sure to keep her head covered, and walked up the creaking wooden steps to the second floor. I watched her open the door and go inside, then turned to find a good table. The best one was in the center of the room next to the fire. I’d have preferred my back to a wall, but beggars can't be choosy. Rather keep an eye on her. I can take care of myself.

  I caught Ruff's attention and mimed taking a drink. Ruff nodded his head and held his arms to the side, raising and lowering them, respectively, like balancing a scale, asking how strong I wanted my drink. I raised my arm, telling him to make it strong. He nodded and grinned wide. Most adventurers liked our drinks strong.

  He went over to a large cask and poured a frothy mug of ale with a strong head to it. Ice formed on the mug as he poured. Ice magic? Using frost stones to keep the casks cold, but they don’t come cheap. He brought over the cup and set it down with a heavy hand. Some of the ale sloshed over the side and ran down the glass like the world's tastiest volcano.

  “Keep em’ coming, Ruff.”

  He barked a laugh in acknowledgment and went back to the bar and tending to his other patrons. I raised the mug to my lips and took a generous swig. The ale was sweet and delicious, with a strong underbite of the booze. It was wonderful.

  I drained the rest of the glass in an instant. Ruff had expected this and was already on his way with another mug. An ideal bartender.

  “Go easier on the next few. They have a stronger bite than you’d think,” Ruff said.

  I nodded to him, though I didn’t plan on heeding his advice; I had a pretty strong tolerance. I’d frequented enough of these establishments over the years that my Drinking Skill was nearly maxed. Couple more levels, and I'll unlock the final ability—no more hangovers for me.

  I was thankful that whatever force sent me back to level one had spared my skills. They hadn’t changed. The hundreds of little skills like Woodworking or Cooking I’d picked up over the years were irreplaceable, and it would have been a pain to level them up again.

  When I drained the second glass, Ruff gave me a warning look as he brought the next round. I slowed my consumption by a little, or I’d be shirtless dancing on the table in no time.

  The minutes went by quickly, the drone of the other patrons mixed with the subtle music that a lone lute player was producing, which made me very sleepy. I hadn’t had the best night’s sleep of my life last night, and the table looked very inviting.

  About the time that my tiredness was about to out-weigh my hunger, the door of our room opened and out walked Eris. She’d discarded most of her traveling clothes and had opted for one of my long-sleeved tunics again—my favorite burgundy one. Like with most of my shirts, it came well past her thighs and looked really good on her. She’d als
o kept her thin cloak and had it wrapped around her shoulders and head.

  She made her way down the stairs, garnering many more looks than when she had gone up them the first time.

  The creaking stairs drew everyone’s attention first; Eris’s legs are what kept them. The men—and a few women—eyed her hungrily as she bounced down the stairs. Oblivious to the looks the other patrons were giving her, Eris smiled at me and came over to the table. She pulled out one of the wooden chairs next to me, sitting in the chair and laying her head on my shoulder. The scent of an unfamiliar soap drifted from her damp hair. Strawberry and coconut.

  Just as she got settled, our dinner was ready. The cook brought out our meals from a room that I could only assume to be the kitchen. He was a thin man with dark hair and gray eyes. He set our food down with a comment to enjoy and left, back to his domain.

  Our food was a stew. It was venison and had a strong aroma as the steam wafted past me, though what had me salivating were the roasted potatoes and carrots. After a few days of trail rations and game, a proper meal was tantalizing.

  We ate our fill and then some. Eris seemed to have a fondness for venison, as she kept eying the chunks of meat in my bowl and grinned when I spooned some into hers. When our meals were finished, Ruff came by and cleared our table. He set down another mug of ale and walked away, whistling a jaunty tune. I picked up the ale and was about to take a sip when Eris asked what it was.

  “It’s ale.”

  “You seem to like it. Can I try it?” she asked.

  “I dunno, I might have to card you; you don’t look old enough,” I joked, knowing she wouldn’t get it, but snickering anyway.

  “Sam,” she pouted. “I don’t understand anything you just said, but technically I’m over a thousand years old. I think I can handle a drink.”

  “Fair enough. I was just teasing you.” I handed her the mug, and she took a huge gulp of it as I had. I was about to warn her about the strength and bitterness of the booze, but she drained the glass instantly. Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

  I pulled out another gold coin and motioned Ruff over. As the godsend that he was, he had witnessed Eris down the ale and brought two fresh mugs. I slid him the extra gold. He took it, although with some protest as the ale we drank wasn’t worth a whole gold coin.

  “Consider it a tip. Besides, the rate we’re going, we are likely to drink your entire stock.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I am well prepared. I couldn’t show my face around here if I ever ran out of booze. My customers would have my head,” Ruff said as he walked away.

  I laughed a little too loudly. The ale had already affected my mood, making me boisterous and cheerful. I was an overly affectionate drunk, and I was sure Eris would take full advantage of my inebriation. Though, from the looks of Eris, the alcohol was having an even stronger impact on her. Her face was beet red, and she stared at me hazily. Hiccupping slightly, she burst into a fit of giggles.

  Eris leaned heavily into me and tried to pull me into a kiss. I didn’t put up much fight. It was sloppy, and her mouth tasted of ale, which I didn’t mind so much. But when she tried to get handsy, I put a stop to it. Not in public. The devious glint in her eyes spoke to me, promising so many things. Eris leaned over and whispered into my ear.

  “Why don’t we head upstairs and get you cleaned up?”

  My libido perked up at her lascivious whispering, but I still wasn’t sure about taking her up on her offer just yet. However, we did need to get some sleep, and I was about to take both of us to bed for the evening when the door to the inn slammed open.

  Chapter 15 - The Hand That Holds Time In Its Palm

  It was sudden enough that it sent my flight or fight reflexes screaming. My buzz faded away in seconds as four people walked in. They swaggered through the door like they owned the place, cocky and utterly full of themselves.

  I calmed myself and went back to my drink, watching them out of the corner of my eye. They were adventurers—that much was clear, but I couldn’t tell anything beyond that. The one who walked in first seemed to be the leader of the merry band.

  He was handsome, though there was a falseness about it, as if he were wearing a mask. He had short auburn hair, styled precisely, and muted brown eyes. His features were elegant but not feminine. Long, yet symmetrical.

  He probably has women swooning over him all the time. He sported medium plate mail polished to a shine and an ostentatious silver scimitar encrusted with gemstones.

  The three members that followed seemed much tamer in comparison. All tall and with good looks, but not nearly as so over the top as their leaders. All male and each wearing a slightly different style of armor, but each bore the same crest—a guild logo of some sort—a hand gripping a barbed hourglass.

  The hand that holds time in its palm.

  The door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the windows, and I was about to finish my drink and take the now clearly drunk Eris upstairs when the leader opened his big mouth.

  “Hey, old man. How about a round for me and the boys?” he called to Ruff as they strutted over to the only other empty table available, the one coincidentally next to ours.

  I barked out a laugh. It slipped out before I could stop it. Leader and his goons turned to glare at me. Their noses upturned like they thought they were better than me.

  “Something I said funny to you, friend?” Leader asked, stressing the word, making it clear that he didn’t actually consider us friends. That broke my heart.

  I turned to face him, Eris was now hugging me, whispering incoherently. Giving her that much alcohol probably wasn’t my best idea.

  “Calling Ruff old is like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? We’re all old men these days, friend, even if we don’t look it,” I told him as I drained the last of my ale.

  He chuckled at that, and his glare softened, even if it didn’t fade completely. “Yeah. Suppose you’re right about that,” he said. “Maybe that was a little rude of me.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to call out to Ruff.

  “Hey, Ruff, let me buy this man here a drink. In fact, next round for everyone is on me!”

  A cheer rang out across the tavern. Everyone then tuned out the antics of our new arrivals—buying a round usually also bought you a considerable amount of goodwill with the patrons.

  The leader brought out a silver and flicked it to Ruff, who caught it deftly while balancing a tray of ale in one hand. He set the party’s drinks down first, then walked over and handed me mine.

  I thanked him and then turned to the group. “Thanks for the drink, friend.”

  Leader shook his head and laughed. “Enough of that. Name’s Darren.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’ll be easy to remember then. My name’s Duran.”

  Darren laughed along with me. “That will be easy to remember,” he said as he unequipped his armor for equally flashy evening wear that didn’t belong in a bar.

  He motioned to his group. “That’s Mikhail, Wolf, and Slip,” he said, pointing at his group.

  Mikhail was shorter than Darren by a hair. Wearing heavy studded leather armor, he had light brown hair shaved close to his scalp, deep-set eyes, and a broad chin. He wielded a halberd, which was smart outdoors but a poor indoor weapon.

  Wolf was an enigma to me. Long, raven-black hair tied into a ponytail. He had narrow eyes and gaunt features, like a starving animal, along with a calm grace about himself. Rather thin but lithe, and he bore no weapons which put me on edge since it made him either a mage or a monk. His leather armor spoke to the monk class, but he didn’t have a caestus or gauntlets. I don’t like that I can’t classify him. That annoys the hell out of me.

  The final member of the party was the rogue of the bunch. Light blonde hair and even lighter blue eyes. A black cloth mask covered half his face, and he bore an array of knives scattered throughout his black leather armor and had a bow strapped to his back. A split class arch
er/rogue. A dangerous combination, but a tricky one to pull off.

  I was intrigued by his name. “Why do they call you Slip?” I asked.

  “Because I can slip in and out before anyone knows I’m there,” Slip said boisterously.

  The group roared with laughter as if that was the first time they had ever heard the joke. I joined in with a chuckle. It was kind of funny.

  Eris jolted up and took hold of my mug, trying to get another sip of ale. Her flushed faces and jerky movements told me she was teetering on the edge, and I took the glass from her. She frowned at me when I cut her off. “I think you’ve had enough for now,” I told her with a smile.

  She stopped frowning at me, still wearing a pout, but her eyes told me she wasn’t upset. Our little encounter did not go unnoticed by Darren, who perked up when he realized Eris was sitting next to me. Darren’s eyes traveled down Eris’s frame to stare longingly at her pale thighs and legs.

  “And who might this delicious-looking thing be?” Darren asked with lust in his mouth.

  Eris chose that moment to drunkenly shoot up from her seat and loudly proclaim to Darren’s party. “Hi, I’m Eris!”

  When Eris stood up so suddenly, her hood fell from her head, revealing her compounded eyes and long ears.

  Darren sucked in a breath at the sight of her, not from fear. No, his gasp came from a much darker place. The sound of their leader inhaling caught the rest of the group’s attention. They all looked up to see Eris, bold as you can be, without a care in the world.

  “She—she’s a demi-human,” Darren said.

  I quickly grabbed Eris and pulled her to her seat, amid a torrent of slurred protests, pulling her hood back over her, and went back to facing Darren.

  “Yes, she is. Is that a problem?” I asked with steel in my voice.

  Darren quickly shook his head. His eyes held nearly unrestrained excitement in them. “No...no, not at all. Not at all.”

 

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