“We are all out of mushroom mead,” General Pol of the Skull Squadron stable said into the ear of My-re as he tipped the remaining drops into three glasses on a serving tray from behind the bar of the Broken Sword tavern.
“What in the nine hells? Are you kidding me? You had a barrel of the stuff two weeks ago. Not even the Shews can drink that much. Where is it?” My-re asked.
“I sold it to your pet cat Ssskah of the Castaways stable. It’s likely sitting on the Nightie ship now.”
“Buy it back from her.”
“I tried! She wanted double the cost.”
My-re smirked at Ssskah’s cleaveress. “Make more then.”
“The next batch won’t be ready for another two weeks,” Pol said.
“You’ve got a real problem on your hands. It’s early and the Shewish Giants are just getting into the spirt of the evening. They won’t thank you for that when you tell them,” My-re scoffed and picked up the tray.
“No, you are going to tell them,” Pol gestured to her.
“No I’m…”My-re’s voice trail off as he placed five gold coins on the bar and pushed them towards her. She continued, “…not…”
Pol then added five more coins to the pile.
“…going to tell them until a little later this evening,” My-re finished and scoped up the ten coins. She gave a parting scowl at Pol and took the drinks to the giants table.
Over the next half-hour, My-re kept an eye on the Shews table in worry as they finished the last of their mushroom mead. Hungry Peasant of the Skull Squadron stable, who was also working, passed her carrying a tray of three mugs of beer.
“Give me that,” My-re said as she grabbed the platter from HP.
“Hey, that’s for my customers!”
“Were out of mushroom mead,” My-re whispered as she darted her eyes to the Shewish Giant’s table.
HP followed them and then back to My-re. He must have seen the concern on her face as he let it go. He whispered, “May the R.U.G.s grant you luck.”
As My-re approached the giants table, Gromp, the largest and leader of the three Shews, smiled an unsettling grin showing his massive teeth. She unconsciously thought he could easily squish her head like a grape.
“Ah, Gromp’s favorite little human female. Gromp would like three more mush-”
My-re cut him off as she placed the three mugs of beer on the table. Gromp’s brow crinkled in confusion.
“On the house,” My-re said and push them towards Gromp and his two companions.
The three Shews looked at the three beers and then to each other. The two smaller, but equally impressive Shews, issued a low growl in their throats as their smiles turned upside down. Gromp picked up one of the beers and looked into it, almost like he was studying it. He put it down and said, “Why human female bring us this human horse urine? Gromp good customer, Gromp tip well, why Gromp treated this way?” The enormous Shew rose from his seat, as did his two companions, each towering over My-re. From the scowls on their faces, they were not pleased.
My-re glanced at General Pol, who scooted a bucket from behind the bar filled with sawdust; useful to absorb blood spills. Hungry Peasant hesitantly walked toward her, like a man heading to the gallows, and stood to her side. She heard him swallow hard. At least she’d have company in the infirmary.
Gromp then issued a jolly belly laugh, which was a little more unsettling than his tooth filled maw. “Little human female make joke.” When Gromp looked to his companions they also joined in the amusement, but it followed a few heartbeats later and seemed forced. Gromp leaned over the table, his face within inches of My-re, and he said, “Gromp no like jokes. Gromp like mushroom mead. Gromp think little female should go get mushroom meads. Gromp then forget about little joke.”
Hungry Peasant stepped in front of her and to her surprise said, voice cracking in nervousness, “Sir, we are all out of mushroom mead. However…”
HP’s voice trailed off as the giants’ eyes snapped his direction. Their fists balled and their knuckles turned white. The three were like forces of nature about to be unleashed within the tavern. Things were going to get real ugly, real fast.
SLAM!
All heads in the tavern turned towards the entrance. Standing in the entryway was Captain Darien, Lady Greywands military attaché. He wore well-oiled leather armor. His golden-brown arms and legs boasted perfectly carved muscles. His round helm covered his entire head, including a nose guard with thick rivets around the opening, so only his scowling mouth was visible. His helm hid his eyes in shadow. Strapped to his back was a massive great sword. Flanking both sides of the captain were two warriors in plate armor wearing the white mantle cloaks of lord protectors each bearing a gigantic halberd large enough to even take down a Shewish Giant in a single blow. The five new arrivals scanned the bar and stopped when they saw My-re. They advanced towards her as if nothing else in the tavern even existed.
“Gromp only joking with little human female. Gromp will try human horse urine.” The three Shewish Giants sat down and began sipping on the beers.
Captain Darien approached. “By order of the Lady of the Ice Garden, Witch of the Northern Waste, High Sorceress of Glacks Island, Lady of the Fire, the Enchantress of--” Darien announced then stopped the litany. “My-re you are here by summoned to the chambers of Lady Shelia Greywand.”
My-re said, “Hold on. I have several things-“
“Now.”