Power Quest: The Rebellion of Terrakia - Andrew Koenig (guided reading books txt) 📗

voice.  All eyes pointed to the stairwell at a plastered Leif Habar, his eyes red and his posture shaky.  He swayed in the stairwell pointing at the guard.  “Who invited ‘im?”

            The guard stood, grabbing the lance he had sat to his side, and strode to the stairwell as Leif stumbled over to meet the guard.  They met in the middle of the room where the guard towered over Leif, leering down at the drunk with a sneer.  “Who are you?”  He annunciated every word, his voice piercing through Leif’s soul.

            “Ah’m Leif.”  The drunk mumbled, looking around the bar for help.  While some watched on, curious to see what would happen, most were looking away at the friends or their drinks.

            “Well, Leif, if you’re quite finished, perhaps you wouldn’t mind accompanying me to the dungeon, hm?”  The green-yellow eyes glinted with something like joy.

            “Erm, nah”

            “Excuse me?”  The guard demanded, tapping his fingers along his lance.  “Would you like to end up on the end of this?”

            “Erm… Nah?”  Leif replied, looking around the room.

            The room was still for a moment, unperturbed by both men.  In a moment, however, the stillness was given momentum by Casimer, who brought the guard a mug of mead, practically shoving it into his hands.  From the distance, Casimer could smell his foul breath and he instantly recalled this guard as the one who had stopped him on his first day at the College of the Arts.

            “O-on the house, sir.”  Casimer stammered, avoiding all eye contact.  He fumbled to grab Leif’s wrist, trying to lead him up the stairs.  “Come on, M-Mr. Habar, you need to lie d-down for the night…”

            The guard took a moment to think, processing what just happened.  With a final gaze around the room, he grunted, took a swig of the mead, and threw the mug onto the floor, spilling mead everywhere.  He then threw a few copper coins into the mess, slamming the oak doors of the Common Cup Inn.  Zak watched him leave, stroking the sable stubble on his chin as the conversations around him slowly resumed.

Imprint

Publication Date: 04-30-2018

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This is basically the culmination of 22 years of being a nerd and basically LARPing with my friends so here's to those good times