“Take out the trash!”
“You take out the trash. I’m a Lord Protector.”
“So am I.”
My-re of the Health Alteration Squad brow furrowed glaring at General Pol of the Skull Squadron stable and the two sacks of trash as he emerged from around the curved bar at the back of the Broken Sword Tavern, which had three tapped kegs behind it. Shelves behind the kegs held row after row of mugs and glasses. Next to the bar and up three short steps was a small, separate area with a solid, ancient oak table and three high back chairs, with a fourth resembling a wooden throne, which could easily sit two people, facing the entrance. Pol reserved this area for the Tower Guardian where his or her special guess’ could sit and watch the patrons from an elevated position.
Rectangular tables with lit candles faced different directions with a miss-match of different chairs styled from the Andorian, Delarquan, Lirith Kai, and Free Blade nations. Pelts of large animals sporadically covered the stone floor. The tavern’s walls where covered with numerous small, medium, and large shields, with empty hooks designed to hold broken weapons. Two large, round chandeliers suspended from thick chains held six large candles each. A hearth in the middle of the room held three large chickens roasting over the center and the simmering soup of the day filled a large, black caldron. The aroma of the cooking meat permeated the tavern and wafted out the door.
The past few months have been busy at the Broken Sword Tavern, so much so that she hadn’t even been able to train in the arena. She also admitted working so close and long with the Rirorni general had frayed both of their nerves, especially as she was the only person he knew that spoke the Rirorni native language of Rathiri fluently. They needed additional help at the tavern and a break from the constant 12-hour workdays.
“Next week you’re taking out the trash.”
“Next week is my week, now take out the trash before it starts stinking up the place.”
My-re snatched the two tattered cloth sacks and commented, “I’m quitting.” It was something she threatened frequently.
“If you quit, you’re not getting paid.”
“When do I get paid?”
“In two weeks.”
Grumbling, walking down the center of the tavern My-re passed a table with several richly dressed merchants. Serving their table for the past two hours they talked about, actually bragging, about securing a lucrative trade deal.
“Another round wench!” called out one of the merchants. His face was chubby with an under bite with three days’ worth of stubble around is face. His nose was small, which its tip pointed slightly downward. He scratched at the side of his head, which had about four days’ worth of stubble.
My-re closed her eyes at the comment and suppressed her ire. The tab for the table had grown quite large. She also wanted to ‘play nice’, as General Pol had told her after educating several patrons on their lack of manners. She turned and forced a smile.
“My good sir, I will be right with you.” My-re proceeded to take out the trash.
RAP! RAP!
The tavern grew silent. The merchant had hit a large gold coin on the table; hard.
“I don’t think you understood. Another round wench,” the merchant said looking at his friends for their approval, then added slowly. “Now.”
My-re looked up and saw General Pol shaking his head slightly at her. He had heard the commotion too and scooted a bucked filled with fresh sawdust, useful to absorb blood, out from behind the bar. She also saw the other patrons staring at her too. Some grinned widely and seemed eager to see what she would do.
No one had ever fired her before, but tonight seemed like a good time as any to experience this life moment. She put down the two sacks of trash and turned.
From the back of the room, three Shewish giants rose from their table and walked over towards My-re. Their footsteps were heavy in the silence of the room. The leader, an older Shew rose fully eight feet in height. A thick, black brow loomed over undersized eyes. He folded his thick arms over a barrel chest. Two slightly smaller, but equally impressive Shews flank either side of him. Their presence made the room shrink and their massive size made My-re feel like a small kid in an adult world. The three brushed past My-re, approaching the merchant table and stood over them. Their bodies were easily twice their size and their massive hands could crush a head like a grape.
The Shewish Giant leader sniffed a couple times.
“Gromp no like the smell of garbage. Garbage irritates Gromp. Gromp thinks little girl should take out the garbage, now.” Gromp turned to the rapping merchant. His downward gaze looked like as if a father was home from a hard day’s work, who would issue forth punishment, quickly and with impunity, if there was any talkback.
The merchant closed his hand around the large coin and waived rapidly for My-re to continue her task.
As My-re left, Gromp said to the group of merchants, “That garbage gone, but Gromp still smells garbage. Garbage irritates Gromp. Gromp thinks garbage should leave…now.”
The merchant group hastily dropped several small sacks of coins on the table and scuttled out of the Broken Sword Tavern.