Brian Pratt - The unsuspecting mage

A small stage is set along one wall and a man is there playing what looks to be something similar to a guitar, entertaining the inn’s patrons with a song. Finding an empty table along one wall, he sits with his back to the wall so he can watch the bard. The song reminds him of folk music, something from one of the old Errol Flynn movies he and his grandfather used to watch together.

He listens to the music and gets a touch of homesickness. Before the song comes to its end, a server approaches his table and asks, “Good evening sir,” a young woman greets him. “What can I get for you this evening?”

“I’ll take the house special and some ale,” he replies.

“We do have some good mulberry wine if you would care to try that instead?” she suggests.

“Ok, I’ll try that,” he agrees, feeling adventurous.

“I’ll have the wine over in a second, but the special will require several more minutes,” she explains.

“That’s okay, I’m not in any hurry.” James sits back as she leaves his table and continues to enjoy the music the bard is playing. The song is a happy one with a good beat and a catchy chorus. He catches himself tapping his finger to the rhythm of the music.

His server brings over a glass and a bottle. She opens the bottle and fills his glass with the dark red liquid. Setting the bottle on the table, she smiles at him and then moves to another table and waits on another person.

Holding the glass for a moment, he lifts it to his nose and enjoys the aroma of the wine, it has a strong berry scent. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a small sip and berry flavor bursts in his mouth, sweet and mellow. Man that’s good! Downing the rest of the glass, he pours himself another, this time intending to take his time in drinking it.

The bard finishes the song to a rousing applause by the audience. Bowing to their admiration, he starts into another one, this time a ballad of love, soft and slow. About this time his server brings over a large platter with a whole stuffed goose. The goose has been roasted to a golden brown and the stuffing within steams, emitting an aroma of nuts and honey. Encircling the goose is an assortment of varying vegetables, all well cooked and soft to the touch. She also sets a basket with several rolls down next to the platter with the goose along with a bowl of gravy.

“Here you go sir. Do you require anything else?” she asks.

Taking out his knife, he says, “No thanks, I think I’ll be fine for a while.” Looking around, he notices that people are using their hands, spoons and knives to eat. Apparently forks are not the custom.

“If you need anything, just catch my eye and I’ll be over,” she says before returning to the kitchen.

James sets to with a hearty appetite. The goose is fantastic, the skin crisp and the flesh juicy with not a trace of pink. The rolls have a mouth watering aroma, he takes one and dips it in the gravy. Biting into it, he finds that it’s soft and fluffy. This is perhaps the best meal he’s had since coming to this world.

During the course of the meal, the bard plays several more songs before taking a break. James spies a bowl sitting at the edge of the stage. From the glint of metal within, he realizes that it contains several coins. During the break he notices how several of the patrons walk over and drop coins in. Must be tipping the bard, he reasons. Digging into his pouch he comes out with a gold and walks over, dropping it into the bowl. His is the only gold among the coppers and a couple silvers. He returns to his table and resumes his meal.

Soon the bard again takes the stage and starts with another fast paced song. He has the crowd singing along with him after a short time, everyone is having a marvelous time. Upon finishing that song, someone shouts out, “Do the Story of Deagan.” Others shout in agreement and the bard starts on a serious ballad about a man on a quest, who slays the bad guy, rescues the damsel and finally dies in the end. Thunderous applause erupts at the end of the song and shouts for other favorites bombard the bard until he begins yet another. He continues singing requests throughout the night, with only an occasional break for him to get a drink and rest his voice.

Having finished his meal, James leans back in his chair and listens to the bard sing the songs. The waitress comes over and clears off the dirty plates, leaving him with just his bottle of mulberry wine and the glass. The music is good and listening to it gives him more of an understanding about the people of this world. Without even realizing it, he finishes the bottle so he signals his server for another. She brings it over and he tips her a copper. Pouring himself a glassful he sits back and enjoys more of the music.

Knock! Knock!

Coming awake, James starts to get up out of bed when a pain that’s likely to crack his skull open erupts from behind his forehead. Collapsing back onto the bed with a groan, he grabs the pillow and places it over his face to block out the blinding sun coming in through the windows.

Oh my God! I’m going to die.

Knock! Knock!

“Sir,” a voice from outside the door says. “Are you in there?”

James croaks out, “Go away and let me die in peace.”

“Sir, there is a boy here who claims you told him to meet you here this morning.” The voice won’t go away. “He says his name is Miko.”

So this is what a hangover feels like? Upset stomach, headache that won’t quit. Why do people ever drink?

How did I get here, he wonders. The last thing he remembers is getting the second bottle of wine and listening to more of the bard. Carefully removing the pillow from in front of his face, he squints through eyes that will barely open and he looks down at himself. He’s still fully clothed in garments that are a bit wrinkled and smell the worse for wear.

“Sir, what should I tell the boy?” intrudes the painful voice.

“Have him come on in,” replies James. “And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you send up something to eat and drink for the both of us?”

“Very well sir,” replies the voice. “I’ll send the boy up with your food.” James hears footsteps going down the stairs as the owner of the voice leaves.

Sitting up slowly, James looks over at the table and discovers a bowl of water along with a towel resting on the table beside it. They must have known I’d need to clean up a little, he reasons. Taking it slowly, he makes it to the table and plops down in one of the chairs and begins to use the water to wash his face and neck. Once cleaned up a bit, he starts feeling better. His headache continues to throb, but it’s beginning to recede a little. He checks and with relief finds the medallion still hanging around his neck beneath his shirt.

Knock! Knock!

“Sir, I brought your food and the boy,” a voice says.

Rising unsteadily from the chair, he uses every bit of furniture between the table and the door for support as he crosses the room. Opening the door, he squints with eyes barely opened and finds one of the waiters from last night carrying a plate of food and the boy Miko standing next to him. “Come on in,” he croaks in a voice barely above a whisper, “just put it on the table.” He reaches into his pocket and hands a copper to the waiter.

“Thank you sir,” the waiter says. “Will you need anything else?”

“Not right now, thank you,” he replies.

The waiter bows slightly then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

James gestures to a chair at the table and says to Miko, “Go ahead and have a seat. You can help yourself to the food, there should be enough for both of us.”

With little hesitation, Miko takes a seat and grabs one of the plates off the tray. Then after shoving an entire biscuit into his mouth, spoons a mound of eggs on his plate. He then sets to with great enthusiasm.