Mixed Baths vs. Mixed Drinks

They ended up spending the last of their coin on the town’s bathhouse, because no one would let them in covered in slime and dirt.

The bathhouse wasn’t split into separate pools, just one huge stone bath, steaming like a cauldron in the centre of the room. Half a dozen townsfolk were already soaking, mostly older villagers who didn’t bat an eye. The gentle splash of water and soft murmurs of villagers made it feel more like a quiet sanctuary than a public bath.

Paddy: "Looks like everyone knows everyone here."

Balloon shrugged off her slime-slick clothes, tossing them in a basket. A towel draped over her shoulder, she padded barefoot across the slick stone. She wrapped the towel loosely under her arms and waded into the water with a blissful sigh.

Balloon: "Mmm… heaven."

Paddy: "…Where’s the men’s bath?"

Balloon: "This is it. Mixed bath."

Paddy: "Mixed?"

Balloon: "Yeah? Everyone’s got one or the other. What’s the problem?"

Paddy squinted at the people already lounging in the water, then back at Balloon, who was already stretching like a cat, letting the warmth seep into her skin.

Balloon: "You’ll get used to it. Around here, it’s as normal as eating breakfast."

Paddy: "I guess I’ll just leave the lamp here then."

He propped it on a nearby bench, then reluctantly got himself ready. By the time he slid into the bath with a groan, Balloon was already humming a tune.

Paddy: "This is the first open bath I’ve ever been to."

Balloon turned her head lazily.

Balloon: "Really? You didn’t have these in your world?"

Paddy: "Not in the place I lived in, anyways. Back home, I had a bath at my house. Never really thought about going somewhere like this."

Balloon smirked.

Balloon: "Sounds like you missed out."

Paddy: "…Yeah, maybe I did."

...

Balloon: "Best money we ever spent."

Paddy: "We’re flat broke, and I’ve probably experienced things I shouldn’t have… and yeah. Worth it."

The next day, Paddy woke with a groan, the warmth of the bathhouse still lingering in his bones. He blinked against the early morning light filtering through the window of the familiar tavern bench, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Balloon sat at the rough wooden table, absently sorting through a small pile of wilted leaves she’d found nearby.

Balloon: "You up?"

Paddy: "Barely."

Balloon glanced up, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips.

Balloon: "So, actually… I sort of lost the paper I was supposed to turn in."

Paddy blinked.

Paddy: "You mean the quest sheet thing? The one you signed with my name on it?"

Balloon shrugged, not looking particularly bothered.

Balloon: "Yeah, that one. Oh, and the slime? Yeah… they were destroyed when the barrels hit that rock."

Paddy nodded seriously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Paddy: "Oh yeah… they were totally destroyed."

He glanced away quickly, hiding the small smirk creeping onto his face, because only he had seen the little puddles merge and slither away, stronger than before. 

Balloon sighed, tossing the last leaf onto the pile.

Balloon: "So… we basically did all that work for free."

They shared a tired laugh, the weight of their misadventure settling in. Just then, the heavy wooden doors creaked open with a commanding thud. A tall man strode in, clad from head to toe in gleaming golden armour that caught the light with every movement, making him look like a walking sunbeam. Behind him marched a large entourage, made up of dozens of well-armed soldiers and attendants, their presence filling the room with an undeniable energy.

The man’s voice boomed across the tavern.

Golden-armoured Man: "The kingdom’s true hero has arrived! For I, am the Summoned!"

The room fell into a brief stunned silence before patrons began murmuring and exchanging glances.

Balloon blinked, looking at the man with genuine confusion.

Balloon: "Wait… who is he?"

Paddy gave a dry chuckle.

Paddy: "Apparently, he thinks he’s the one who was summoned."

Balloon frowned, shaking her head.

Balloon: "Never heard of him."

The golden-armoured man laughed loudly and threw an arm around one of his soldiers.

Golden-armoured Man: "No need for introductions! I’m Prince Dermott, son of King Dermott. I’ve just arrived with my men, and to celebrate, drinks are on me tonight!"

...

Balloon frowned, glancing at the golden-armoured man surrounded by his soldiers.

Balloon: "If he’s the son of the king, how is he summoned? Doesn’t anyone around here understand how that’s supposed to work?"

A few patrons murmured in agreement, but just as the confusion settled in, the crowd suddenly erupted into loud cheers and applause.

"Long live Prince Dermott!"
"The true hero has arrived!"
"Drinks for everyone! To Prince Dermott!"

The golden-armoured man grinned broadly, soaking in the adoration as his soldiers handed out mugs of ale.

Paddy nudged Balloon with a smirk.

Paddy: "Looks like he’s got the people on his side, whether it makes sense or not."

Balloon crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.

Balloon: "Yeah… and that’s what worries me."

The golden-armoured man turned, striding confidently over to Paddy’s table, his soldiers parting the crowd. His voice lowered, but still rich with the same booming confidence.

Dermott: "And who might you be, old man? Surely not the summoned one? I am Prince Dermott, the true hero called by the kingdom!"

Paddy looked him up and down, lamp resting beside his bench like a trusted old friend.

Paddy: "The summoned one? That’d be me. You just happen to be the king’s son."

Dermott laughed, a hearty sound filled with pride.

Dermott: "An old man claiming the title? No way. The people want a young, strong leader, not some dusty relic."

Balloon: "If you’re the son of the king, how can you be summoned? Doesn’t anyone here get how this works?"

...

The tavern erupted again, but this time the cheers were louder, more fervent. Ale mugs raised in unison.

Crowd: "Long live Prince Dermott! The true hero!"

Paddy gave Balloon a weary look and muttered.

Paddy: "Maybe it’s for the best he’s got the crowd. Saves me the trouble."

Dermott’s grin widened as he looked down at Paddy.

Dermott: "How about a drink with us? You look like you could use some fun."

Balloon shot Paddy a wary glance, but Paddy just smirked, raising his lamp like a toast.

Paddy: "Ha! You’ll never outdrink an Irishman, lad. Not in this lifetime!"

Villager: "Irish…? What’s that?"

The crowd cheered louder, pushing mugs of frothy ale into their hands.

The tavern buzzed with excitement, the air thick with the scent of ale and sweat. Some patrons nudged each other, whispering bets in low voices, while others cheered louder, their mugs raised high. Paddy rubbed his aching back, his fingers stiff from years of hard work, but the glint in his eye told a different story, a stubborn fire no youth could douse.

As Paddy’s speech grew a bit slurred, he grinned wider.

Paddy: "You think you’ve got the crown in yer pocket, do ye? Let’s see who’s the real lad of the hour tonight!"

The crowd’s cheers turned to hoots and whistles as Paddy downed his mug in one, slapping the table with a grin. Dermott’s jaw clenched, his pride stung, but he laughed and raised his glass for another round.

Balloon’s lips twitched in a smirk, but her eyes narrowed, with worry creeping in.

Balloon: "Old man, you really want to do this?"

Paddy gave a lazy grin, waving a hand, and slammed his mug down with a thud.

Paddy: "Ah, don’t be tellin' me to back down now, lass. He started this!"

One drink became two, then three, and before they knew it the sun had crawled across the sky. By the time the last light faded and torches flickered to life, the tavern was roaring with song and laughter.

As the ale flowed, the tension between the two 'heroes' dissolved into competitive camaraderie… until the inevitable happened.

Dermott stumbled to his feet, swaying dramatically.

Dermott: "Enough talk! Time to settle this like real heroes."

He shoved past the tables, the crowd parting with cheers and jeers.

Paddy groaned, standing as well, lamp still in hand.

Paddy: "Come on then, ya young bastard! Let’s give them a show!"

The air grew thick with anticipation, and even the flickering torches seemed to hold their breath as the two sized each other up. Paddy’s grip tightened on his lamp, Dermott’s fingers twitched around his sword’s hilt.

Outside on the street, under the flickering torchlight, the two circled each other, more drunk swagger than serious menace. The crowd followed, eager for the spectacle.

Dermott: "Prepare to lose your title, old man!"

Paddy: "Sure, I’ll give you a fight so fierce you’ll be running home to your mother before the night’s out!"

Lamp against sword, they stood in front of each other, ready for the other one to strike.

Paddy swung his lamp with a grin.

Paddy: "If I win, you’re buyin’ breakfast!"

Balloon: "He’s not going to remember this in the morning…"