Chapter Twenty-eight

 

Vulk led the way across Whitewater. “Still sure you want to come with me?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Instead of being back in the room with Cyra and Trish? Really?”

 

“Gives them some time without me, and Trish said something about a girls’ night in. It’s good, as it means they have time to chat with Cammie.”

 

“Yeah,” Vulk said softly. “That’d be good for her.”

 

“Having friends is good. Still kind of novel for me, but I’ve been enjoying it.”

 

Vulk glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then grunted. “I guess that would be true. No friends at all?”

 

“One or two, on and off,” Stern explained. “My family moved a lot, which made it difficult enough for my siblings. For me, though… nearly impossible. Even when I found someone who was okay to start with, it didn’t end well.”

 

“Because of your perk?”

 

“Most got angry over me always knowing what they felt. Even my siblings were leery of me because of it. Well, to be fair, some of my siblings. A couple were better about it.”

 

“Must have been hard.”

 

“It wasn’t a picnic, that’s for sure.”

 

“You don’t seem as upset over it as I would be.”

 

“I mostly gave up on expecting positive things out of people. I was rarely disappointed that way, as opposed to if I expected people to be nicer.”

 

Vulk snorted. “Yeah. I can see that.” He fell silent for a moment before asking, “What’s it like? The emotion thing?”

 

Stern thought about it, trying to find a way to explain. “Hmm... Your emotions are a part of you. They’re always there... sometimes small and, other times, all-consuming. Other’s emotions are a membrane that wraps around me. I can fight them and push them away, but the stronger the emotion, the harder it is. Get a dozen people together and it’s nearly impossible. It’s why I shut down and go cold whenever we reach a new city.”

 

“Because they see you for one of them. Huh. That makes sense.”

 

“It’s been easier with Cyra and Trish nearby. Their emotions have acted as an insulator, helping me resist being inundated as easily. I can focus on them to help.”

 

There was a pause as Vulk considered what Stern said, then pointed at the tavern just ahead of them. “Deep Mug. That’s the place I was told about.”

 

“Told about? We just barely got into the city,” Stern chuckled.

 

“I asked a few of the Walkers at the inn while waiting for you.”

 

“Best place to drink?”

 

“Good, but cheap,” Vulk corrected. “The cost to quality ratio is important.”

 

“I didn’t consider that. I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

“Good quality liquor that can actually make it through my resistance is tough. Finding drink like that that doesn’t cost too much is harder still.”

 

Stern just nodded as he followed Vulk into the tavern. The place was smaller than Stern thought it would be— more of a hole-in-the-wall pub than a full tavern. There were only a handful of tables in the room and six stools at the bar itself.

 

Since it wasn’t evening yet, it wasn’t busy. Vulk went to a table near a corner and took a seat. Sitting next to him, Stern noted that all of the tables were round and the seats were stools instead of chairs.

 

The tavern had a couple of lanterns that gave it soft lighting. It was far from bright, but more than enough for anyone with good night vision. Behind the bar, a dwarf eyed them with a questioning gaze.

 

“What can I…?” the barmaid began. She trailed off, staring at Stern.

 

“Dark ale, and whatever hits the hardest,” Vulk said.

 

“Golden ale?” Stern asked.

 

The barmaid continued to stare at Stern until Vulk coughed loudly. That got her to jerk and look away from him. “Sorry. Uh, dark and golden ales, and one hard drink. Be right back.” She hurried away from the table.

 

“Sorry about that,” Stern sighed.

 

“I’ll deal with it. Must get old for you,” Vulk said.

 

“She was frightened. I don’t fault them for being scared of the blighted. Just wish they didn’t automatically think I was one.”

 

“True. Considering all the stories, fear is understandable. From the shamblers to the wise, old ones, they all have the same pale skin and gauntness that you do.”

 

“And eyes that are nearly colorless,” Stern sighed.

 

“I didn’t know that one.”

 

“Your drinks,” the barmaid stammered as she set the mugs and shot glass on the table. “That’ll be five copper.”

 

Stern put a small silver on the table. “We’d like to run a tab.”

 

The barmaid and Vulk were both taken aback by the amount of money Stern set out. The barmaid recovered first, collecting the coin. “Of course… sir.”

 

“Thank you,” Stern smiled. “Does the place get busy in the evening?”

 

“Yes. Every seat normally fills up,” she replied, her fear abating as Stern acted like most patrons did.

 

“Any food offered?”

 

“Just snacks,” the barmaid replied.

 

“Can we get a little of whatever you recommend? Been on the road all day, and some food would be good with the drinks.”

 

“Of course, sir. I’ll be back with them.” With her fear gone, the barmaid was all curiosity as she swept away from the table.

 

“A silver?” Vulk asked once she was gone.

 

“My personal money,” Stern shrugged. “I’d rather just have everything paid for and enjoy myself.”

 

Vulk grunted, downing the shot before taking a hearty swig of the ale. “I was curious about that. The armor, weapons, and gear, all of it’s expensive. You’ve outfitted my sister, too.”

 

Stern just took a drink and waited, as Vulk hadn’t asked a question.

 

Vulk watched him, then sighed. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

“Ask? You never asked a question. I wasn’t sure what you were asking.”

 

Vulk gave him a flat look, then looked to the side where the barmaid was coming back to the table. He waited, giving the woman a smile as she set a number of finger foods on the table between the two men.

 

“I hope you enjoy them,” the barmaid said. “If you need anything else, I’m Emma.”

 

“Thank you, Emma,” Stern said.

 

“We appreciate it,” Vulk added.

 

She gave them a smile, then left them alone. Vulk watched her go with an appraising eye.

 

“Pretty sure she’s the daughter,” Stern said softly, having caught a pulse of worry and protectiveness from the dwarf behind the bar.

 

“Oh,” Vulk sighed. “Yeah, she’s half-dwarven.”

 

“Old enough to make her own choices,” Stern said as he picked up a piece of grilled chicken. “Maybe she’ll show some interest a bit later.”

 

Vulk snorted. “Yeah, right.” He snagged a piece of salted bread, but paused before eating it. “How do you manage to pay for it all?”

 

“Family,” Stern admitted. “They sent me off with some money and my gear. They wanted to help me, but also wanted to respect my decision to make my own way. I have a much easier road, but I still fight my own way up the dungeon ranks.”

 

“Which is how you can pay us to pull shards?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You’re spending your money to do that?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Vulk fell silent and tried the food.

 

~*~*~

 

The two sat there, drinking and polishing off their food. A couple more people trickled in and, as the hour wore on, the place really began to fill up. Stern got a lot of looks, but the emotions always stabilized after the new patrons spoke quietly with the bartender or Emma.

 

“Friendly place,” Vulk said, stifling a belch. “Good food and drinks, too.”

 

“Emma and her father have been helping ease their minds,” Stern said. He was only on his second mug, while Vulk was on his fifth mug and third shot.

 

“That explains it,” Vulk nodded. “Can’t believe you’re spending your own money to pull strangers out. That’s just not right.”

 

“It makes me feel better,” Stern shrugged, noting Vulk’s buzz.

 

“Me and Cam are just mooching off you, then,” Vulk grumbled.

 

“Not at all,” Stern countered. “You’re being paid as Walkers should be for retrieval jobs. It’s just me paying you instead of the guild.”

 

Vulk frowned at him but, before he could open his mouth, someone stopped by the table.

 

“Do you want more food?” Emma asked.

 

“Not yet, but we might in another hour,” Stern told her. “This is a nice place.”

 

Emma’s professional smile became real. “Thank you. We try hard to make everyone feel welcome.”

 

“I appreciate that,” Stern said. “I noticed some of the others having some concern when they saw me, but they all mellowed out after a word from you or… your father?”

 

“Yeah, that’s my father,” Emma said, glancing back at her dad behind the bar. “Mother made the food.”

 

“Which was delicious,” Stern said. “My friend loved the salted bread. Ate all of it himself.”

 

“They’re called pretzels,” Emma grinned. “She learned it from one of the Darkhand crew.”

 

Stern’s smile went wooden for a moment before he laughed. “Really? They drank here?”

 

“Yes. Father loves talking about it.” Emma looked at Vulk. He was sitting there, watching her, before he jerked his gaze away. “I’ll let Mother know you liked it.”

 

“Thanks...” Vulk mumbled.

 

Stern felt embarrassment rising from Vulk and he nodded slightly. “Emma, a question? Vulk,” he motioned to Vulk, “and I were discussing the differences between our two ales. Vulk loves them dark, while I don’t like needing a knife and fork for my drinks. Where do you stand on them?”

 

Emma looked up for a moment, clearly considering, and Vulk shot Stern a glare.

 

“Well,” Emma said slowly, “my father’s like you, Vulk.” She looked at the dwarf with a smile. “He loves dark ale. You haven’t tried his own brew. If you want, I can bring it for your next round.”

 

“Yes, please,” Vulk said, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away.

 

Emma’s lips twitched when she caught sight of his reddening cheeks under his beard. “I’ll make sure that happens.”

 

“Ah, so he was right, then,” Stern sighed.

 

“Personally, I’m a disgrace to my family,” Emma shrugged. “I don’t care for ale at all. I take after my mother. I’d rather have a good wine.”

 

“Oh?” Vulk asked, looking at his mug like he was reconsidering his drink.

 

Emma lightly touched Vulk’s shoulder. “Just wait until you get the next mug. If you liked that, you’ll love the next one.”

 

Vulk ducked his head, nodding. “I’ll look forward to it.”

 

“Emma, I need another round!” someone called out to her.

 

“Enjoy your drinks,” Emma smiled at the pair before she left them to get drinks for the other table.

 

When she was gone, Vulk glanced up at Stern. “What was that?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“We didn’t talk about drinks.”

 

Stern hesitated, then leaned forward just a little, as if wanting to keep the conversation muted, “You aren’t interested in her?”

 

Vulk’s jaw sagged before he clicked it shut. His gaze darted to Emma, who was going to the bar to get refills. “I didn’t…”

 

“Vulk, you’ve been shooting her glances. Now, take into account that she works in a tavern, a family-run tavern. She’s likely to have been hit on before… a lot. If she took offense, she would have given us a cool response and left quickly. Instead, she gave a real smile and chatted, then touched you and promised her father’s best dark ale for your next round.”

 

Vulk blinked at Stern slowly for a moment, then looked back at Emma. She looked their way at that moment. Vulk quickly averted his gaze and took a big gulp of his ale.

 

Stern saw a soft smile touch Emma’s lips as she went back to work. “Besides… you know my perk.”

 

Vulk jerked, his eyes going wide as he stared at Stern. “What?”

 

“She’s curious and intrigued, and not with me,” Stern said. “But if I were you, I’d slow down some. I doubt she’d be as interested if you fell off that stool.”

 

Vulk lapsed into silence and Stern sipped his ale, looking over the room. It was a cross-section of the city. Every major race was present, and while the men outnumbered the women, it wasn’t, as his mother would call it, “a sausage party.”

 

After a minute, Stern spoke up again, “Look, I might have overstepped. Honestly, I never thought I’d get to be the shieldbearer for a friend.”

 

Vulk snorted, his lips going up. “Honestly didn’t see it ever happening, either. Was really expecting this to end up with a bar fight because of… you know.”

 

“You got told the right place to go to,” Stern shrugged. “But if that’s what you want instead, I’m sure—”

 

“No,” Vulk cut him off. “No... at least, not yet… just in case.”

 

Stern lifted his mug a little to Vulk. “Good luck. We’ll be staying in the city for a few days after the run, like normal, so you have time.”

 

Vulk blinked at him, then picked up his mug and tapped it against Stern’s. “Thanks.”

 

~*~*~

 

Fifteen minutes later, Emma came back to their table with a tray. She set a mug in front of each of them. She also brought out another plate of pretzels, though she set that closer to Vulk than Stern.

 

“Mother said that, if you liked the first batch, you should have them fresh,” Emma smiled at Vulk. “I brought some sharp cheddar and mustard, as well. Some people like one or both with their pretzels at times. And last, but far from least, a mug of Darkhand.”

 

“‘Darkhand’?” Stern asked with raised eyebrows.

 

Emma chuckled. “Named after the leading crew of Rescue Squad, of course. He calls it a powerful drink, so I’d suggest sipping like your friend’s been doing.”

 

Vulk nodded. “I will. Thank you, and your mother.”

 

“When are you going in?” Emma asked slowly.

 

“Maybe tomorrow, perhaps the day after,” Stern said. “Depends on the others.”

 

Emma touched Vulk’s shoulder lightly. “I wish you both safe runs. If you need anything else, just call for me. I’ll be back to check on you.”

 

Vulk nodded mutely, his face burning. Emma gave him another smile before she swirled away from their table. Vulk watched her go.

 

“I’d suggest you take a sip quickly, and then give her father a nod,” Stern said softly, his lips barely moving.

 

Vulk blinked and moved on reflex, doing what Stern had suggested. Setting the mug down, Vulk’s eyes went wide as the flavor, depth, and strength of the dark ale registered. He looked at Stern blankly, then turned his gaze toward the bar where the bartender was watching them. Vulk touched the mug, then bowed his head deeply. The bartender nodded, a huge grin spreading across his face.

 

“He was watching you watch his daughter. Think you just ducked that trap.”

 

Vulk exhaled. “Shieldbearer, my thanks.”

 

Stern laughed and took a drink of his own mug. “No thanks needed. Tonight has been… good. Now, pass over one of those pretzels, and some cheese.”