The tavern was slowly filling up, more villagers now entering the tavern. The others were busy filling each other in on what they had done in the city, but Sevan only half-listened to their tales. He cared more for the newcomers to the tavern, and took careful note of those that stood out from the crowd.

He recognized Derg, the village smith, for there were no other half-orcs in the village, entering the tavern beside a tall, swarthy half-elf. Derg took a tankard of ale from Otho, and went to sit in a quiet corner, by himself. The half-elf, dressed in rich, foreign-looking blue robes, stayed at the bar and began a conversation with the tavern-keeper. He was soon joined by a very tired-looking gnome, but Sevan paid him little heed.

He turned back to the tavern’s entrance and noticed a young woman, escorted by a rich but nervous looking young man, enter with the general rush. The man was clearly focused solely on the woman, but she, for her part, while not unwelcoming to the attention, did not seem to return it as he.

Aidan, the hexblade, smiled at the young woman, but she paid him no heed. Indeed, Sevan doubted she had even noticed the man.

“Sevan?” said Caleb quietly.

“Yes?” replied Sevan in the same quiet tone, still looking at the couple.

“That gnome,” said the monk, “I recognize him. He ran into us earlier.”

“He should have been watching where he was going,” said Aidan with a wry smile.

“He was the wizard we tried to speak to,” added Caleb. “He wasn’t very cooperative, though.”

“Really?” said Sevan, turning his gaze to the gnome. “How very interesting…”

A quick glance showed him that the gnome was currently very busy being friendly to a glass of wine. And another… and another…

Sevan shook his head, and turned away. He doubted he would find out anything useful by talking with the gnome at the moment.

“Sevan,” said Azgrim, the dwarven cleric. “That young woman is Rebecca Bodemen, daughter of one of the chief farmers in this town. I don’t recognize the young man with her, though.”

“Could be Bently Michum,” said Sevan thoughtfully. “Otho said he’s always found around her.”

“Yes…” said the dwarf, “You might be right at that! Should we go and have a word with them, do you thing? We may have offended the young lady earlier, and we should be very delicate about the matter if we decide to go to her.”

“Perhaps I should speak to her,” said Aidan, but Sevan ignored him. Instead, he looked down to the dwarf.

“I should have known letting you lot seek her out on your own was a mistake,” he said, thinking about how ‘delicate’ the dwarf must have been to insult the young lady so. “Still,” he mused, “perhaps not all is lost. Follow me.”

The dwarf nodded. “Aidan,” he said, turning to the man, “why don’t you just wait here for a moment. I get the feeling she hasn’t taken a liking to you just yet. A more sensible approach is in order.”

Aidan nodded. “Very well,” he said, though clearly unhappy.

“I don’t find it all that surprising,” said Sevan, getting up and walking towards the couple, Aidan’s angry glare following his every step.

Azgrim nodded gratefully to Aidan, and went to follow the tall swashbuckler. Sevan approached the couple, the dwarf in tow. He stopped in front of Rebecca, and gave her a courtly bow. “Rebecca Bodemen, I presume?” he said.

“Yes?” asked the woman politely, before she could notice Azgrim. When she saw the dwarf, she frowned slightly, and her eyes began to scan the room, finally resting on Aidan. Clearly, they had already met, and the meeting had not been a kind one. The young man with Rebecca looked at Sevan, appearing both surprised and slightly worried.

“Please, ignore Aidan back there,” Sevan told Rebecca. “He has all the social skills of a rather warty toad, no matter how he might appear to be on the outside. I am sorry to bother you at this time, but I assure you that I do not do so without a good reason.”

“I say… if I may ask, what would this reason be?” asked the man beside her. His voice, while lacking in confidence, was still strong.

“Why, the orc raids, my good fellow,” said Sevan in tone that signified it should have been obvious, not giving the man the benefit of a glance, preferring instead to keep his gaze firmly on Rebecca. “My friends and I are planning to set out against the soon, and I was wondering if there was anything you know that might help us in our quest.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Caleb was looking intently at one of the tavern patrons, who was ordering a beer mug. He had never had the chance to taste it before, not at the temple of his youth, and he decided to try it now. He mimicked the man’s actions, and to his enjoyment had proceeded correctly. He now had a mug of beer in front of him, and he raised it to his lips, taking his first drink of the bitter brew.

The taste was interesting, odd on the tongue, and he was willing to try another one. The gnome, who was until now intent on his own drinking, now offered Caleb a glass of the wine he was enjoying, and he nodded in agreement. “Thank you, I’d like that,” he said.

Aidan merely drank from his tankard, and watched the proceedings carefully.

Caleb tried the wine, and found it more pleasant to the taste, but still quite odd. He felt a bit funny after drinking it, warm in the stomach, and the room suddenly seemed a bit brighter. This might be why Brother Ashton at the monastery always enjoyed working in the vineyards so much, he thought. He didn’t think another drink would be a good idea.

Aidan noted the expression on his face. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s an acquired taste.”

* * *

At Sevan’s words, the man’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re adventurers here for the bounty?!” he hurriedly said. “Oh, this is good news! My name is Bently Michum, good sir, I am now the owner of my family’s estate to the south of the village, and we have recently begun to feel the deprivations of these ruthless orcs! I am, as it happens, in need of stout folk such as yourself to help guard my plantation against any future raids. I’ve tried to hire help from the village, but the men are needed to guard their homes here, and the others who came to town for the bounty seemed to feel my offer was not enough…

“I do not know if you can be motivated by the desire to help a man in need of aid, but if not, I am prepared to pay your group a sum of fifty gold pieces a night to guard my fields!”

“I would be delighted to assist you in guarding your home,” said Sevan, “but only temporarily. I am sure the others would also agree to help a man in need, but I fear we cannot remain at guard duty for long. We must come to the orcs, and not wait for them to come to us, after all. Now then,” he continued. “Two questions.

“One,” said Sevan, raising a finger, “is there any information about the raids that might help us?”

Bently looked a bit sheepish, blustering for a moment, but the young woman spoke up. “They burned a barn on the edge of his fields,” she said. “That was months ago.”

“Yes, but most of my field hands heard noises late at night as well!” he quickly countered. “Anyway, I realize this may not be the glamorous work you hoped to do, but I trust you’ll see the sense of my offer. The town’s bounty is merely one silver per orc scalp… I am offering your band fifty gold for one night’s work! Please sir, I am desperate!”

* * *

Caleb, his head spinning slightly, turned to the gnome. “Thank you.” he said. “You were right, it was better than the beer. Much better.”

“Personally, I find wine to be a more refined drink,” Aidan told the monk. “Beer may have many fine properties, but for something with a bit of class about it, a fine wine cannot be beaten.

“Sadly,” he said with distaste, “this is not such a wine.”

“And what use is a bit of class?” the short halfling asked.

“Sir!” the gnome said, and hopped down from his stool. “I beg you to reconsider,” he said once he stood in front of Aidan. “While your understandings of the gift of sweet wines is to be admired, I challenge you to produce a better wine than this. I do not think you are up to the task!”

* * *

Sevan considered the Bently Michum’s offer. It was, indeed, an extremely tempting one. He realized, though, that had the man asked for his assistance without offering any reward, he would have accepted anyway. Still, Bently appeared to be a man of means, if one could judge from his clothing, and any funds he could supply would help them greatly.

“Well, the offer is indeed tempting,” said Sevan, “but I must note that no one has taken it so far. I’m quite certain that we’re not the first adventurers to receive the offer,” he continued with a smile, “and as you can see, we are not the richest lot. Fifty gold divided among our large group can only go so far.

“So, we now come to my second question.” said Sevan. “Could I convince you to spare more gold for the defence of your home?”

* * *

“Why, my friend, class has its place,” Aidan told Alton.

“Not when it comes to drinking… ‘friend’.” said the rogue.

“Perhaps not for you,” said Aidan, “but some of us like to enjoy the finer things in life.”

Aidan turned to the gnome. “While your defence of this drink is admirable, it is misplaced. Where I come from, we have wines that you would kill to try. Wines the likes of which you cannot even imagine.”

“There is nothing finer than a pint of ale,” said Alton, but Aidan paid him no further heed.

The gnome touched Aidan on the forearm in a friendly gesture. “The finest wine should not be drunk in the darkest of times… but if you need the proof of it, I would be willing to treat you to a glass or two of the village’s finest reserve.”

Aidan smiled. “Now, that is an offer that I would be hard pushed to refuse.”

The gnome reached up to the bar, where Otho handed him a couple of glasses, which the gnome then set on the table in front of Aidan. He then took a bottle from Otho, which he uncorks with deft hands, and poured you each a glass.

Aidan raised his glass in toast. “To fine wine,” he said, “and to happier times.”

* * *

Bently swallowed hard. “I admit, I’ve asked the others. They’ve either said my threat was not as great as that of the others, or simply scoffed at what they considered peasant’s work… Sir, the hour grows later as we haggle. I have a carriage that could take you to my fields before midnight falls, but we must reach a decision now. I could spare… twice my offer? One hundred in gold, if you can clear my farm of it’s threat?”

“The hour indeed grows late,” said Sevan, “but you’ve just made note of a very important matter. Lady Rebecca’s farm, to bring the best example, is far more in need of aid than yours at the moment. How many attacks have you seen so far?” he asked Bently.

Bently blustered a bit. “Seem? You mean… personally?”

Rebecca tutted. “They’ve had one barn burnt, and his workers say they hear ‘sounds in the woods.” she sad. “I’ll tell you truly, we’ve had no worse at my family’s farm, and my father and brothers are strong horsemen. I thank you for your concerns, but I trust my brothers… Together, they’re the match for any grunting brute!”

Bently looked relieved, and glanced gratefully at Rebecca, but she would not meet his eyes.

“But what of your brother, Jace?” Sevan asked Rebecca.

A fiery look appeared in Rebecca’s eyes. “We don’t know that he’s dead,” she said softly. “And even if he is… we’ll make sure those monsters are repaid a hundred times over.”

“Still,” said Sevan, “your farm has seen the brunt of the raids so far. If naught else, we can see if we can find your brother.”

Rebecca stiffened. “The Bodemens do not need anyone’s help,” she whispered tensely. Bently, normally trying to be as close as possible to her, edged away slightly when he heard that tone.

“Miss, I’m troubled,” said Azgrim calmly. “I fear that my companions have twice now offended you without meaning to. Please, can we find some way to put this behind us?” he asked.

Rebecca looked away. “Maybe if you can help Bently out with his troubles, then…” Azgrim nodded, and kept quiet, not trusting her temper.

“As you wish, fair Rebecca,” said Sevan, and turned to Bently. “Now then, we were discussing the matter of payment…?”

Bently rallied, speaking even more shakily than usual. “If you can keep my farm safe, I can pay you one hundred gold, and I’ll take you to the fiends and back to town each day if you need it. That’s in addition to the town’s bounty, too!” he hastened to add.

Sevan nodded in agreement.

* * *

Aidan drank down the wine, and looked surprised. “Sir, I fear I may have done your palette a great disservice. This is indeed a fine wine. Not quite so fine as the sort I could get back home, but not bad at all.”

As the wine soothed his stomach, Aidan realized that it has subtleties and complexities that he didn’t quite realize. He found himself wanting to take the last drops from his glass to savour it again. Another realization dawned on him. He realized how nice it was of the gnome to treat him to this gift. He was probably the best friend he had in this whole place.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Aidan said. “I would have liked to repay you properly with a glass of my country’s finest, but we shall have to make do with what we’ve got.

“It’s nice to meet someone that can appreciate wine. So many people quite happily drink swill if it gets them drunk,” he said, looking pointedly at the halfling. Alton ignored him.

Caleb noticed that the gnome, Otho, and the half-elf are grinning a bit, though he had no idea why they did.

The gnome grinned, and patted him affectionately on the thigh, as he could not reach the tall man’s shoulder. “Well, my friend,” he said, “I thank you for your offer. I tell you, our friend Otho keeps the best of his stock up in the rafters, believe it or not. Perhaps you could help me look for it, by giving me a lift onto your shoulders?”

“Of course,” said Aidan. The gnome was his friend. He helped the gnome clamber onto his shoulders, happy to help his best friend.

Caleb looked at Aidan, then at Sevan, and then back at Aidan again, trying to decide what to do through the swirling mist of his thoughts.

“Hmm, I tell you, friend, maybe if we went over there…” said the gnome. “No, to the left, let’s check that rafter… no, now back to the right…” The gnome led Aidan around the tavern floor, occasionally spinning him in circles.

Caleb turned to look at Sevan again, and tried to formulate a sentence, but the words refused to arrange themselves correctly in his mind.

Aidan was feeling very dizzy now, and he wasn’t all that sure now that his friend knew what he was doing, as he was starting to lean over to the sides, upsetting Aidan’s balance. Barely keeping himself standing, Aidan stumbled into another table. “Careful, friend, you’re going to have us on the floor in a minute,” he told the gnome.

“I apologise,” said the gnome. “Just check one more rafter. Quickly now, it’s just there back near the bar!”

Caleb finally stood up. “Sevan!” he called loudly, and pointed at the stumbling Aidan.

Sevan turned from Bently, and noticed Aidan’s predicament. “Aidan!” Sevan shouted a big grin on his face. “What in the Nine Hells do you think you’re doing?”

“Being an idiot,” mumbled Alton.

Sevan could guess what was happening. The gnome a mage, after all, and the possibility that Aidan hadn’t angered him in some way was slim. This could be fun, he thought, and continued to watch.

Aidan would have shrugged, had the gnome not been weighing him down. He was helping his good friend, the gnome. The fact that he didn’t know his name hadn’t even occurred to him. “I’m helping my good friend here to find us some of this town’s finest drink,” he said, walking towards the gnome’s latest destination. Most of the tavern was chuckling openly at this point.

“Have you never seen a man helping a gnome search for wine in a tavern’s rafters before?” he told Sevan.

“Ah,” replied the swashbuckler, laughing openly. “Alright then, carry on, carry on.”

The gnome shifts his weight suddenly, crying out. He grabs a rafter and twists himself, sending Aidan careening towards his table, but he managed to catch himself before collapsing onto it.

The laughter from the tavern was now open and loud, as the gnomish mage hopped along the rafter and dropped down onto his seat by the bar, where he waves his hand, snaps his fingers, and raises his glass to Aidan.

Aidan felt a strange taste in his mouth, and felt like someone has been playing around with his head. Rebecca appeared most amused, and Bently chuckled. “Good show, Quindle,” he said. Alton watched with amusement, clearly pleased with the way things turned out. “Nothing finer than wine, eh, Aidan?” he said with a grin.

Aidan looked around the tavern, fuming with embarrassment. “Is this where I’m supposed to throw the coppers, and pat the trained bear on the muzzle?” he heard Sevan say. Aidan forced himself to remain calm, but it was a difficult task.

“Okay now, we’ve had a bit of fun, but let’s hope that it’s seen as harmless by all sides,” said Otho, speaking up. “Stranger, would a bottle of wine without Quindle’s own additives soothe any ruffled feathers?” he asked Aidan.

Aidan forced a smile. “Of course,” he said. “After all, it was all in good… jest.” He said through gritted teeth.

Caleb, distressed with the whole situation, moved as far from Aidan as his chair would allow him.

Sevan turned again to Bently. “If my companions have no objections, then I agree in full,” he said.

Azgrim looked to Sevan. “Well, it’s a start,” he said. “I’m grateful for any direction at this point, but we shouldn’t all go. Remember that Starek is expecting to meet us back here. At least one person should stay.”

“Have no fear,” said Sevan. “I’m sure we can work that out easily enough.”