Every Wednesday I'll share a small portion of my writing. Hope you enjoy what you're reading!
Excerpt (Daxton, Chapter 3)
The Serpent’s Head. The oldest tavern in the Kingdom of Gaspar. It also happens to be the only tavern near the coastline where a man knows he is sure to find some liquid refreshment. As Traix gripped Adelaide’s small hand in his, he walked through the front door. It was nearly empty, save for a few patrons sitting at the bar and a table in the far corner where four men sat, having a lively discussion that no one could comprehend unless they were there when they first started drinking. No one seemed to be bothered by the appearance of Traix, accompanied by a little girl. He did not want to take any chances that one of the men would notice what he wore and question him, so he made for a table that was both far away from the drunk men and the bar.
The stench of sweaty men and beer wafted up to his nostrils and his stomach suddenly made an all too familiar sound. “Wait here, I need a drink.” He took two steps from the table, then stopped when he saw the look on her face. What made his stomach ache for the drink was making her wince in disgust. “Do you want something?” he asked, hoping there might be some sort of drink or food this place would have that could give her some comfort.
She looked around the room and had the same thought he must’ve; this place probably wouldn’t have something a little girl could drink. She shook her head at him and pulled the swords belt over her head so she could hold it in her lap instead. The men continued to pay them no mind but she still feared they might try and take it. Traix was more concerned someone would take her. He eyed the men seated at their own table cautiously, but they remained huddled in whispered conversation.
He approached the bar and slammed his hand down on the table to get the attention of the barman at the other end. He was in the middle of pouring a pint of beer for a gentleman who could barely hold his head in an upright position. The barman stared Traix down with anger in his eyes, until he saw the Royal Green of his vest, and suddenly a smile appeared on his face. He snatched away the pint of beer he had finished pouring for the inebriated patron and walked it over to Traix, slamming it down in front of him.
“Welcome, good sir. What brings you to the Serpent’s Head? Is the Kings ship back already? What news do you bring of the great Captain Hinde and his quest to defeat Silverblade?” He raised his voice so the few who were there could hear him, and made sure to spit just as loudly on the ground next to him. It was a sign of loyalty to the King if the name of Silverblade was ever uttered to spit out their disgust for having spoken something so foul.
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