by Stephanie Valis
Episode 01 (cont.): It wasn't me, I swear!
“Good man Deiter.” The mayor patted Deiter’s arm hesitantly. “What of the rest of you? Will you help our… uh… brave Deiter here, in this mission for us? I will even throw in a night at the tavern and a meal before you go so you can set out at first light tomorrow morning. It’s very generous of me, I’m sure you’ll agree, since the ale itself is already your payment.”
“And we can keep anything else we find?” Xavros asked, his eyes glinting greedily.
“Yes, of course. As long as the coins that were taken from us are returned with not a copper missing you are welcome to anything else you find.”
“Of course we will assist you good mayor.” Cal’s voice boomed out cheerfully. “We will take your offer of food and lodging for the night and leave at first light.”
T’zielle nodded her agreement quietly as she slid her tankard over to Deiter. Deiter grinned and took it, draining it quickly. When he finished, Cal’s tankard had also been shoved over to him. He got about halfway through it before a wave of dizziness hit him. He blinked rapidly, trying to shove the dizziness off as the mayor continued.
“Thank you for your assistance. Now, as I said, the funds that we were receiving from Collegium were stolen. We know that the bandits have holed up in the old keep so we need you to travel there and retrieve it for us. Deiter should know the way.”
They all glanced at Deiter as his head hit the table. A loud snore was the mayor’s only response. He sighed deeply and frowned at Deiter’s sleeping head.
“Yes… well… I’m sure you will find that he is quite an able partner in this endeavour. You cannot say much for him but his parents did train him well.” The Mayor’s expression put one in mind of someone sucking on a very sour candy as he spoke.
“Right.” Xavros’ skepticism was apparent as he tried to shove Deiter further away from himself, to little avail. While Deiter was slender for an Orc he was mostly muscle and still almost seven feet tall. As it was he took up most of the table in his unconscious form.
“We probably shouldn’t have given him our drinks too Cal.” T’zielle giggled softly, covering her mouth and her smile as her green eyes danced with lively humor.
“Perhaps that is indeed the case.” Cal also eyed Deiter then shook his head and turned back to the mayor. “Are you certain you cannot send someone else on this mission. I feel that this orc will not be able to assist us.”
“Half-orc.” Deiter mumbled into the table, even in his unconscious state aware enough to correct that assumption.
“I assure you, his parents have taught him well. He may not look like much or…” The mayor grimaced painfully. “Or smell that good, but I guarantee you that his parents have trained him to be a warrior. He’ll be useful for you.”
“And we’re supposed to take your word that this great big idiotic lug is going to be useful to—”
Deiter sat straight up abruptly. Without pause he turned to Xavros, interrupted him and promptly leaned over and vomited. Once his stomach was clear his head hit the table again, the snores continuing. There was silence as everyone stared at a shocked and angry Xavros. Then the laughter began. Everyone except the poor tiefling who had gotten the brunt of Deiter’s expulsion of the excess alcohol laughed uproariously. The mayor, trying to hide it, attempted to speak anyway.
“He’ll be useful… when he’s sober. Just maybe don’t give him quite so much to drink all at once next time, that ale really is powerful.”
Sam stomped over to the table and punched Deiter’s arm with a solid smack. When the first hit didn’t wake him, Sam followed it with two more before Deiter finally stirred and sat up again, this time seeming conscious as he blinked at Sam.
“Oh… hi Sam.” Deiter smiled. “What’s got you so angry? I didn’t do anything, we’re just having a nice chat about our mission.”