In a land full of magical creatures, dragons fly overhead threatening to unleash a deadly surprise on anyone who gets in their way. As danger lurks in the shadows in a world with its own rules, threats, and resolutions, a group of adventurers seeking d
Sword and Sorcery
Short Stories Book 1By John RicksiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 John Ben Ricks Sr.
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-3969-9Contents
The Bard.................................................1The Druid................................................10The Hand of God..........................................13A Low-Level Party (Fighter)..............................20The Rogue: Party of Six (High Level).....................29The Ranger...............................................38The Sage/Sorcerer........................................48Country Wizard and Friends...............................59The Cleric of the Traveler...............................76The Wizard: Not What They Seem...........................92The Fighter..............................................107The Assassin.............................................119The Cleric: The Wrong Questions..........................123The Gladiator............................................129The Illusionist..........................................134
Chapter One
The Bard
I walked into the tavern, stomped the snow and ice off my feet, and looked all around without letting on that I was surveying the place, without moving my head, without giving away that I was looking. It was still early, so there were few customers. I glanced at myself in the mirror and saw a clean-cut man in his thirties with long blond hair and a perfect nose. The disguise was still working. I pulled the cloak a little tighter. The ones I was hunting were not here. At the bar was an old man drinking away his sorrows. There were two merchants haggling in the center of the room at a long table made for six chairs. Both wore swords and dirks, and one actually looked like his were usable. The other's were overly ornate, over polished, and over oiled. There was a fat black cat by the low fire with three white boots and a white streak on its face above the nose and between the eyes. It was watching a mouse picking out crumbs on the wooden floor about fifteen feet across the room to the side, where the floor had been swept into a pile of dirt and crumbs.
The bartender was watching me. A very pretty, but far too young, serving wench was waiting to see what I would do. Smells from the kitchen were good, and I was hungry. I crossed to the fireside and took a chair at a small table for one, with my back to the corner and my face to the rest of the room, where I could watch the stairs. The serving wench came over, swaying in a provocative way and showing a little too much leg.
As she bent over the table to wipe it off with a dirty rag, her tiny bosoms nearly fell out of the top of a very loose dress. She asked, "Is there something I can get for you, my lord?"
I had not taken off my cloak and the hood was still up. She could not see any part of me. I said, "Yes. I am in need of a room for a few nights, a bath, and food."
"I'll send Mac over and he can take care of the room and bath. Lunch is being served. Stew from last night with fresh baked bread. What would you like to drink?"
"Water. Lemon or lime juice if you have it."
"We have apple juice, cider, grog, or mulled wine. Beer and good wines are available."
Mulled wine sounded good right now. The warmed spiced beverage of this region would be welcome in my nearly frozen stomach. "I'll have water and a tankard of the mulled wine."
I did not bring out any money so her eyes narrowed and she said, "That will be two copper for the food and a copper for the mulled wine."
I remembered the last time I paid in advance. I received burnt meat surprise, three-day-old bread—and very little of that—and the wine was nearly undrinkable and came long after I ordered. I took a couple of silver pieces from my pouch and said, "I'll pay and tip when I receive and approve of the food and drink."
She smiled when she saw the silver and quickly turned and nearly ran off to the kitchen. She yelled at the bartender when she passed. "He has silver and needs a bath and bed, daddy."
The bartender slowly came around the corner of the bar and made his way toward my table. His walk, size, and the well-worn great spiked club hanging from his belt told me that this bar gets busy and he does the bouncing. He asked, "I hear you need a room and bath, sir?"
"Two or possibly three nights, and a hot bath today, after lunch."
"I have a single room for one silver a night, or you can share with the two merchants for three copper a night. The bath is two copper. Both are paid up front."
"The single is a closed room with a fresh bed?"
"It has a door and lockable shutters. I'll have the boy change out the hay in the bed for another copper."
"That will be fine. The bath is fresh water?"
"Three days sitting but not used yet."
"Iron or brass tub?"
"Iron."
I said, "Water in an iron tub smells like rust after a day or two. Change the water and I'll pay three copper for the bath."
"Done."
I paid him four silver and he returned six copper and then he asked, while thumbing his club, "You're not here to start any kind of trouble, are you?"
"Not that I am aware of."
"Three rules in this place. One, leave my daughters alone. Pinch or smack their bottoms hard enough to leave a mark and I'll return the favor. Two, fights inside will cost the winner cleanup fees. Blood is hard to scrub out of the floor. Three, let people have fun. They come here to drink and forget their lives and wives for a little while. Let them."
"I understand, but I will protect myself if someone becomes violent."
"You should. Try not to kill unless absolutely necessary. Tends to cut down on repeat customers."
He turned and went back to the bar. It wasn't long before the young wench came out with a full plate of fresh, hot stew with lots of meat in it and a full loaf of bread with plenty of butter. A younger sister was carrying the water and the mulled wine. They set them down, and I tried the stew. It was hot and good. The mulled wine was very good, and I paid for both and tipped both the girls well.
The little one looked at the two coppers I gave her and had no idea what to do with them.
The older bent down and whispered, "Put it away like I showed you, and don't let Momma know."
She tucked them into her dress top, and as she turned to leave, they dropped out the bottom. I coughed and they turned. I motioned toward the floor. The little one opened her dress and looked all over for her coins and then snatched the coins off the floor and ran for the kitchen.
The older girl whispered, "Thank you, my lord," and then turned to leave with a smile.
I sat there enjoying my lunch and watching everything that happened. My anger and pain I kept to myself. Eventually my bath was ready and the serving wench led me to a room in the back with a tub full of hot, fresh water and soap. I started to undress until I noticed she was watching, so I took her arm and gently led her out and closed the door. I put a chair against the door and jammed it shut. I checked the shutters and placed my dagger between the handles to ensure they remained closed. Then I took off my cloak, haversack, quiver, leather armor, boots, and weapons. I climbed into the water and it felt wonderful. It was my first hot bath in a month of traveling. I let the soapy water soak into my body and warm my sprit. I scrubbed every stitch of clothing I had and hung them up to dry, and I then relaxed in the water for two hours while thinking about my loss. It was hot and moist in the tub room, but the cold air from outside was...
