When Guluss walked into the tavern, the first thing he did was loudly announce Rhunal and Bron. He stated that the two of them alone had killed a blemmyae and saved his ass. It was a lie, but even the she-orc had the sense not to correct him. Some in the tavern still scowled and even jeered at her, but none was willing to get up and make an issue of it. Rhunal scowled back, feeling that she had the better of it. 

It took a little bit to convince the bartender to serve her. Orcs in general were rowdy enough, the man was concerned what getting one drunk would do. He eventually passed them a beer each. Rhun downed hers immediately, and with her rapid metabolism felt no ill effects from the alcohol. A single beer didn’t do much to Bron either. He explained that as an Acolyte of Light; he was heavily resistant to the effects. 

It would take tougher alcohol to have an effect on Bron and Rhun. The blacksmith persuaded the bartender to bring some of his strongest moonshine from behind the bar. It was cheap stuff but potent. They talked for a time about their adventures. Though they had been initially hostile, the crowd gathered around, listening to the story of the battle in the crypt, the purging of the dark skeletons and stone golem, and the last duel with the bear.

It only took one instigator to demand the answer to one question: Who was the strongest of the two? The only way to settle this argument was a drinking match. Guluss, considered one of the strongest drinkers in town, added himself to the contest. Bron’s resistance to hostile effects lent him a fearsome advantage. 

Rhun fell behind the drinking battle quickly. Realizing she would soon lose, she began stealthily running healing magic through her blood, filtering the poison. Knowing that too much would make it obvious, she used this sparingly, only enough to keep from passing out. The crowd was too drunk to notice the subtle glow of luminescent green under her skin.

Drink after drink, she chipped away at Bron’s resistance. While her magic kept the alcohol from overwhelming her, it also tired her out. Sitting next to him, Bron’s smell was overpowering to her nose. But this scent of his seemed to affect human women differently. Several of them approached to give Bron encouragement. Rhunal was committed to winning this contest and shooed them off.

”Why’re you chasing off my friends?” Bron complained.

Rhunal shook her alcohol dramatically. ”You’re in a battle against me now big guy. You can’t afford distractions.” She sensed by his manner that he was on the edge. She raised her bottle, it was half-full, as was his. “Let’s finish this Bron! If you down your bottle and survive, I’ll down mine as well.”

Bron stood to his feet and chugged it down. He sat back down dramatically, over thin air. He toppled to the ground, shaking the bar as his bulk impacted the wood floor.

“You did it miss orc,” said the bartender. “When he said he was an Acolyte of Light, I thought he was boasting. But that amount of this ale would put any six men unconscious. This might be the only time you beat him. He doesn’t seem like he drinks a lot.”

Rhun took a swig from her bottle, “I’ll take it.” She looked down at Bron, “Will he be alright here?”

The bartender shrugged, “Good a place as any. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

***

The sun was down, and a figure lurched towards the gate. Armed sentries on either side of the gate spoke out in challenge. When they shone a light on the intruder, they barely recognized Kyvril, the Guildmaster of the Adventurer’s guild. He was spattered with dried blood, and his clothes were shredded. He insistently waved to them both, demanding they open the gate. When they asked him where he had been, he shook his head, refusing to give them any answers. Besides the sentries, there was one other who saw his return. Lurking by the gate was Fara herself, who had been waiting nearby all evening. 

Kyvril told the guards to leave him, and started up the street into town. Fara approached him, but was a little too silent. One of his enchanted blades was immediately raised towards her throat. She shrieked and stepped back. Kyvril stared at the blade for a moment and shook his head, putting the weapon away. “Sorry little Fara. It’s been a long day.”

Fara let go of a long held breath. “I’m afraid it won’t get any easier for you. There are enemies in this town yet.”

He scanned the empty street. “Speak plainly, If there were still blemmyae roaming around, I would know it.”

“These two declare themselves as members of your guild. They appeared in town bragging of accomplishing a quest at the cost of your own brother. They stated that the reward was theirs, though the contract of the adventurers states that the families of the slain are to receive a fair share.”

Kyvril stared down the street, and his expression was like stone. “I told him.” He said finally. “I told him the quest was a deathtrap.”

“My fiance Lovell is dead as well. They took his share too, though it should have gone to his younger brother and sister.”

Kyvril looked back to her wearily. “If they are still in town, it can be dealt with another day. Are you sure they were attached to the same quest? What was the goal of the quest? Where are they?”

“They bragged about raiding a crypt. They said they cleaned out the rewards from it and took the head of Taino the bandit back to Greihold for a reward. Do you know where Taino’s hideout was? Something about a marsh? All I know is that Lovell is buried there, and I want to visit his grave. As you say, the reward can wait for another day.”

Kyvril sketched a quick map on a scrap of paper. “I might go with you. I have to decide whether to leave my brother there or transport his body here. Now tell me about these two adventurers. Would I know of them, or are they new members?”

“I think you would have heard about a pale giant of a man and a diminutive female orc barely taller than you are.”

He scowled. “A she-orc? I haven’t heard of any permanent female orcish members in a while.” 

“They are seeking a new job. But it gets better, I’ve heard the orc is a mage. And as you know, it was a party of orcs who visited the town before the explosion at the wall.”

His fists clenched, so hard Fara heard the crack of his knuckles. “Where did you say they were?”

Fara pointed down the street. “I saw them walking towards the tavern with the blacksmith.”

An insane light blazed in the Guildmaster’s eyes. Fara stepped out of his way as he strode purposefully towards the well-lit Tavern. She had expected the news of the orc’s magic to meet some resistance from Kyvril, but he accepted it instantly. He had seen something she hadn’t. Something bad was about to go down in the tavern. Whoever the winner, she didn’t need to wait around to find out. The map in her hand was all she needed to find the crypt and the reward. She had only one more stop to make.