Chapter 8: The Dark Elf and the Dwarf
It was getting late, and he needed to find an inn to stay at. He decided to buy a new sword and some tobacco tomorrow.
As he walked along the central street of the city, he noticed that the taverns and inns were getting closer together. The city was large, as it was both a gate city and a trading city. All the built inns stood at least three stories high, with the majority reaching up to four stories.
Russell picked an inn at random as he walked down the street. The inn was known as the Breezy Winds of Lanshmoore.
There was no door to the front entrance, just two wooden panels that reached up to about the height of an average person’s chest. Russell pushed them open with his stomach, then stepped inside.
Inside, there was a large hall. Like most inns, the first floor was a tavern and dining area, with the rooms for rent on the floors above. The ceiling was a bit low, and lamps hung from it.
There weren’t many people under the lights. The few that were there were mostly mercenaries in armor, eating their meals or drinking their alcohol, lost in their own worlds. It was a familiar but foreign sight.
Russell’s entrance drew some attention as people glanced at his height and size, but they quickly returned to their bowls or tankards. He could hear whispers of, “What is that, a giant?”, “He’s huge.” and “He looks like one of those beasts.”
‘Were the beasts the demi-humans?’
One of the waitresses came out of the kitchen and spotted Russell.
“Welcome. . . c, come in.”
The waitress’s eyes went wide. She was a buxom woman with long, dark hair, a thin waist, and wide hips. Her pretty face looked to be in her early twenties.
She stared at Russell for a moment, then seemed to snap out of it with a gasp and finish her greeting.
“Ahem, welcome. What can I get you?”
“Food first. The menu includes four servings of any kind of meat and some ale.
Russell held out a fistful of silver coins, and the waitress bowed and went back into the kitchen. Russell found an empty seat and sat down.
Russell had to sit by the window because everyone else had taken the seats by the warm fireplace. The glass was cloudy, so he could only see the people outside as blurry shadows passing by the window.
After a while, the waitress came out with a tray of food. There was a large tankard of ale and a plate with several pieces of well-cooked meat.
“Enjoy your meal!”
Russell nodded, and the waitress smiled and sat down at a nearby table, glancing at Russell every now and then.
Russell took a sip of his ale first. It was lukewarm and flat, but it was strong. As he swallowed, it burned all the way down his throat.
He let out a sigh as the alcohol warmed him up and gave him a pleasant buzz. As he enjoyed his buzz, Russell cut into the meat and ate it, listening to the various conversations around the dining hall. He started to pick up on different conversations.
“There’s been trouble in the northwestern forest.”
“Bandits, you mean? I heard about that. I heard they have monsters with them.”
“There’s a bounty to kill the monsters that come out of the sewers. You going?”
“It stinks down there. . . I’ll have to think about it.”
“Is it true? The underground labyrinth under the sewers?”
“Shhh, keep your voice down. A lot of people don’t know about it yet. . . We can’t let the party poopers ruin our fun.”
“Londo, are you still hung up on her? Forget about that woman.”
“What? That woman? You don’t know anything! She was everything to me!”
In one corner, a man was drinking alone, quietly talking about rumors, monsters, and sewers, while in another, a man was shaking another man by the collar, his face red with anger. Then he collapsed on the table, sobbing.
Russell ate his meal while listening to everything. He raised his hand, and the waitress came running over.
“Did you call?”
“I want to wash up. Do you have a place?”
“Oh, there’s a bathhouse in the basement. But the hot water’s all gone, so it’ll take a while to heat up again. Would you like me to do that?”
Russell shook his head. He wanted cold water right now.
“I’ll just wash up with cold water.”
“You can then go out to the back of the inn and use the well. You can use the dipper to pour water over yourself.”
“How much?”
“Three dippers of water for one silver coin.”
It was cheaper than he thought. It must be because there was a river outside the city.
Russell handed her two silver coins and went to the backyard. One of the tents set up on the side seemed to be for women only.
He took off his armor and clothes, revealing his muscular body. His shoulders were broad; his chest was thick and scarred; and his back muscles and veins rippled.
It was a warrior’s body, far from the skinny body of his previous life, where only his stomach stuck out.
He poured cold well water over his head, washing away the dirt and dust from his travels. It was refreshing.
“Wha. . .”
He heard a gasp, and the waitress who had shown him to the backyard was still there. Despite blushing, her gaze remained fixed on Russell’s body.
She stared at the water running down his muscles, then gasped when Russell looked at her. She quickly handed him a towel.
“I thought you might need this. . .”
“Thank you.”
Russell poured a few more dippers of water over himself and washed his body as he put his clothes back on.
“I’ll be staying the night, too.”
“Oh, there are shared rooms on the second floor and private rooms on the third floor. The shared rooms are four silver coins, and the private rooms are eight silver coins.”
“I’ll take a private room.”
He paid for the room and followed the waitress to an empty room on the third floor.
“Have a good night.”
The waitress smiled and left. Russell looked around the room. It was a simple room with a window on one wall, a bed, and a wooden table.
He closed the door and threw his bag on the bed, then opened the window and looked down.
The moon was high in the sky. Its silvery light washed over the city’s bright lights. Even at night, the streets were loud, chaotic, and dirty.
There were fewer people on the road than before, but they were still there. Soldiers with grim faces were walking somewhere with spears and shields, and the people looked at them with a hint of fear.
The soldiers themselves didn’t appear to be the source of the fear, but rather the reason they were walking and the potential consequences. The atmosphere was chaotic.
Russell closed the window and laid down on the bed. He had a lot to do tomorrow. He had to buy a new sword, find some tobacco, and go to the trading company to collect the money for the troll’s body.
The bounty for completing the escort mission, as well as the money from selling the troll’s body, should be quite a bit. If what the merchant had said was true, he should get a pouch of gold coins.
However, weapons tend to be very expensive if they are of good quality. Luxury items like tobacco are not cheap either. Since the one Evelyn gave him was probably made and sold by wizards or alchemists, it was bound to be expensive.
He had also become more interested in magic. The flame he had created with just his fingertip was a great help in his fight with the troll.
The troll’s flames would have burned him if he hadn’t been interested in Evelyn’s flame magic and hadn’t experimented with the flames he created with mana each night. Of course, he would have won anyway. Russell was confident in that.
However, he wouldn’t have been in the same condition after winning. He had been lucky to have Elenora, a priestess who could heal, but priests who could use divine power were rare to begin with. He couldn’t rely on such luck forever. In the end, he could only rely on his own strength.
In that sense, Russell’s unknowingly acquired magic disruption (Evelyn had also called it mana interference and spell negation, but Russell preferred magic disruption) would be a great help if he ever had to fight a wizard or witch. They often used fire spells, so it could be considered a countermeasure.
Also, Russell had shown an astonishing talent for elemental magic, according to Evelyn. It was based on Russell’s sense of mana, or ability to manipulate it, since birth, and he knew that this wasn’t an ordinary talent.
He wanted to learn more about magic. He also wondered what kind of magic he had a talent for.
There must be a bookstore here, too. He wondered if they sold magic-themed books.
Russell, who had been staring at the unfamiliar wooden ceiling, suddenly raised his finger. It was similar to how he had been lying on the ground four days ago with the night sky as his blanket.
He recalled his fight with the troll just a few hours ago. Evelyn had shot out bolts of lightning and icicles. But no matter how much he stared at his index finger, no electricity or frost appeared.
After all, he had only glimpsed those spells in passing during the intense battle, but the fireball was unique in that he had witnessed its creation in real time.
Russell fell asleep thinking about his fight with the troll, magic, the flat ale, and the chaotic atmosphere of the city.
🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷
The next day, the sun rose in the east, clearing away the morning fog. The clouds were breaking up, and golden rays of light were spreading across the horizon. The city that had been asleep all night was starting to wake up. The streets gradually became noisy.
Russell, who had finished his leisurely breakfast and lunch, went to the trading company first. He wanted to sell to the blacksmith the armor and weapons that the uruks had been wearing.
It was almost noon. The city was starting to get busy. Carriages were passing here and there, and street vendors were setting up their goods.
People with pale faces, as if they had spent a wild night, were vomiting while holding onto the walls or sitting with their backs against the alleys. They were common human beings, and Russell didn’t mind them.
As soon as he entered the trading company, an employee came out before he could even give his name. Someone must have informed him beforehand.
“Welcome! You must be Russell-nim, correct?”
“Yes. I’m here to collect the armor and sword that the uruks were wearing.”
“Yes, please follow me.”
The employee retrieved a large, covered wagon from a warehouse adjacent to the trading company. He dragged the wagon to Russell with a huff and a puff, taking out a piece of paper from his pocket. The employee explained.
“This is a rough map of the city of Calisden. If you want to visit a blacksmith or workshop, go this way, towards the outer wall. Next to it, there is a list of workshop names that the trading company guarantees. You can look it over and go to the one that suits you.”
“Okay.”
He took the paper and saw a detailed map, as well as the names of workshops that matched the purpose. There were craftsmen who handled tools for exploration, blacksmiths who specialized in armor, and workshops that specialized in weapons and shields. Russell looked it over carefully and pointed to one.
“What is this mark?”
“Oh, that’s the Lord’s exclusive workshop. It’s where the most skilled craftsmen in this city are. The trading company has received permission from the Lord to give the mercenaries we choose the right to use the workshop.”
He didn’t know they would take care of something like this. It seemed that he had made a good impression. They had offered to sell the troll’s body at auction without him even asking; they had given him all the money from the commission except for the handling fee, and now they were introducing him to such a good blacksmith.
From the trading company’s point of view, it would be good to be on good terms with a strong mercenary like Russell, so they would do him favors like this.
Russell put the paper in his pocket and nodded. If he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have refused, but now that he knew, he had no reason to refuse.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As he pushed the wagon forward, he began to hear the sound of hammering. The blacksmith district was a bit away from the city, near the outer wall and the river. The noise must have been loud, but the water must have been more important.
In addition to blacksmiths, there were also workshops that made leather armor and shops that handled things like ropes, chains, and lamps. The armor and shields hanging on hooks swayed slightly.
Various craftsmen were hammering away at or assembling what was in front of them. Russell looked at the paper and the street alternately, and then he chose a blacksmith and went inside. Russell planted a flagpole with a fluttering flag in front. They engraved the trading company’s crest on it.
As he entered, he heard the sound of hammers. In the distance, a furnace was glowing red-hot.
The furnace breathed, regularly spewing sparks, but it wasn’t as hot as he thought. On closer inspection, he discovered that it was only glowing and not emitting heat.
The owner’s height was evident in the short length of the tools, tables, and chairs under the high ceiling. Larger ones, seemingly designed for human use, adorned one side.
“I don’t know who you are, but wait a minute!”
“I’ll go out and check!”
A high, cheerful voice followed a low, thick one.
Despite the loud hammer sound, they must have noticed Russell coming in. He must have good ears or the ability to sense presence.
He went to where the voices were coming from and saw another furnace and anvil. And there was a dwarf hammering away at an ingot on the anvil, as well as a woman coming out to meet him.
She had reddish-brown skin, black hair, red eyes, and very long ears. The dark elf looked at Russell in surprise.
“Oh?”
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