Bread, Beer, and Bad News

    “What brings you to Greenbough, strangers?” The gate guard asked as the two of them walked up to the village palisade.

    “Just food and a place to stay for the night,” Sean replied. “If you have an inn we could find a room at, that is, otherwise we’ll keep on our way.”

    The guard smiled, “That we do! It’s not large, but the ‘Tipsy Thistle’ on the village square should do for you. The food is decent,” the guard waggled his hand from side-to-side, “but the ale’s quite good. The innkeep makes it himself from the local rye, it’s got a bit of spice to it but it goes down smooth.”

    “It sounds perfect, we’ll go and grab a table.” Sean replied.

    “Ah, sorry for the trouble, but I’ll need your names and hometowns before you enter. I’ll need to collect the gate bond as well.” The guard’s smile turned apologetic. “You seem like trustworthy enough folk, but the village elders like me to keep a record of who’s visiting in case there’s trouble. The fee’s five copper pennies a head – it helps keep out vagrants and the like. It will be returned to you when you leave minus a penny each for the gate fee so long as you behave yourselves.”

    “Of course! Just a moment.” Sean fumbled at his waist for his coin purse. Sifting through the coinage inside, he saw large and small coins of copper, silver, and gold. As he selected ten of the small copper coins, he used the time to think back on the map he’d been shown by Mog.

    He didn’t want to say they were from close by in case the guard was familiar with the villagers. On the other hand, he didn’t want to say they’d traveled from the other side of the island either. He tried to remember something somewhere in the middle that could seem plausible.

    Sean handed the coins to the guard. “I’m Sean and this is Flick, we’re travelling from Kent’s Hollow looking for a new place to settle.”

    Flick favored the guard with a grin, “Sean here had all the lasses back home fighting over him, so I told him we needed to move on before he caused a riot.”

    The guard laughed, counting the coins and putting them away. “I’ve never heard of the place, but hopefully you’ll find it quieter here in Greenbough. Maybe even enough to stay, eh? If not though, the name’s Ryan. Make sure you either leave from this gate or ask for me before you depart so I can give you your bond back.”

    Sean nodded to Ryan in thanks, walking through the gate and into Greenbough. He noticed that the majority of the buildings were of modest size, almost uniformly raw timber and white clay. As far as he could tell they looked to be in good repair. Like Corvane had reported, the people they passed seemed lively and in good spirits. The raven himself circled the village, his white body blending with the wispy clouds dotting the sky.

    The ‘Tipsy Thistle’ was immediately apparent as they approached the village center. The inn stood out as one of the few multi-story buildings in the town, a solid, all-timber construction. Its small courtyard was complete with its own short palisade, and Sean saw that the windows were small and defensible. In contrast with its somewhat militant facade, the inn’s sign showed a bright purple thistle flower sporting a floridly drunken face. Raucous laughter and merriment signaled the day’s labor was on pause for a late lunch.

    Walking into the building and up to the common room’s counter, Sean saw a matronly woman cleaning glasses. She looked up and gave him a welcoming smile.

    “Welcome to the Tipsy Thistle! I haven’t seen the two of you around here before. The name’s Alma, I’m the inkeeper’s wife and co-proprietor of the establishment. What brings you here on this fine day?”

    “A pleasure to meet you, Alma,” Sean replied, inclining his head. “My companion and I are looking for some food and a room for the night, if you have one to spare.”

    “Oh, aye, aye, we have plenty of room. All the folk you see outside are locals coming in for a quick bite. We don’t get too many travelers through here, being at the end of the road as we are.” The older woman leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Past Greenbough the path stops at the old High King’s Hall. They say it’s cursed!”

    Sean stifled a chuckle, thinking back to the old, but decidedly mundane ruin he’d landed in. “Thank you for the warning, we’ll be sure to avoid it.”

    “What about the food? Do you have anything with nuts?” Flick asked, her eyes fixed intently on the proprietress.

    Alma looked Flick up and down, clucking her tongue. “Your lad hasn’t been feeding you properly, lass! Don’t you worry, we have a fine mushroom and chestnut stew on the fire and some fresh loaves of bread to go with it. Straight out of the oven. Go sit yourselves down and I’ll bring some out.”

    Sean and Flick went outside and found a table towards the edge of the courtyard. True to her word, Alma brought them each a big bowl of stew and half a loaf of rough rye bread. She also set down two mugs of beer.

    “Here you go, enough food to start putting meat back on the girl’s bones. It’ll be a copper each for the food.” She turned to Sean, “The beer is on the house, seeing it’s your first time in Greenbough. Just holler if you need a refill, it’ll cost you just a copper more for another mug of the finest ale in the land!”

    Sean and Flick thanked the woman and dug into their meal with gusto. The stew was hearty and rich, the wild mushrooms and chestnuts adding flavor to a thick brown base that paired nicely with the bread. The beer was light but burned pleasantly just at the back of Sean’s throat. It was delicious, especially after a day and a half eating loose nuts, and there wasn’t much conversation to be had between bites.

    As they finished up (and Flick pestered him for seconds), a commotion erupted from the entrance to the inn. Sean turned to see a young woman rushing up to one of the men in the courtyard.

    “Colin! Owen and Caitlin, have you seen them?” She asked the man frantically.

    The man shook his head, “No, not since I left the house this morning. Why, what’s wrong?”

    “I sent them to forage at the forest’s edge, but they should have been back before now. I’d hoped they’d gone to see you, but if you haven’t seen them…”

    “…then they’re missing.” Colin finished grimly. “Our children are gone.”