Yarra's Adventure Notes

"Denia, here we go again." The young priest girl rubbed her throbbing forehead, leaning in to call out loudly to the female knight, "Catherine, Catherine, wake up. Please, wake up."

"Huh? What is it? Who's making such a racket? Is something wrong?" The female knight, Catherine, was shaken awake. She instinctively clenched hold of the gold coin in her hand while looking around. Not until did she see the displeased expression of the priest girl, did she manage a chuckle. "Haha, Lina, it was you. These coins are somewhat dirty; I was just cleaning them, just cleaning them."

The young priest girl, Lina, shook her head with a look of utter frustration, "Sister, it's getting late!"

Catherine, carefully storing the gold coin into her purse, put away her infatuated expression, went to the carriage that had already stopped, and struck her left shoulder plate with her right hand; it was a standard knight's gesture. She then turned to the coachman, "Sir, we are deeply appreciative of your work these past three days. However, we must apologize for having to cut short our original agreement of ten days due to certain circumstances."

The coachman, a man over fifty with dark complexion, lines etched deep onto his face holding the harsh reality of life, smiled with a touch of apprehension and tension, "It's alright, my young ladies. Spending these few days with you has been quite a pleasure, and that is satisfactory enough for me."

Catherine maintained her solemn expression, "As per our agreement, we were to hire your carriage and services at the price of one gold coin per day for ten days. However, only three days have passed, so we should pay you three gold coins. As it is customary amongst adventurers, since we terminated the mission early, and could not honor our agreement, we ought to pay you an additional half of the promised wage. So, we should pay you four gold and fifty silver coins."

"No, please, there's no need." The coachman waved his hands frantically, "Three gold coins are more than enough. Please, don't pay any more."

Catherine shook her head, "No, an agreement is an agreement. You deserve this money according to the agreement, we must give it to you. Please, you must accept it." With that, she counted out four gold coins and five silver coins each worth ten silver, and placed them into the coachman's hands.

The coachman gratefully smiled and effectively showered them with thanks, "Thank you so much. All this while, when I was listening to you and the young lad arguing, I thought I would be satisfied if you did not deduct any money from my fee. But I never would've thought..."

"I am a knight." Catherine revealed a small smile on her solemn face, "Whataever that we owe, not one copper coin will be left unpaid; whatever we don't owe, not one will be overpaid. This fairness is the justice of a knight, or perhaps, my own justice. To maintain this justice is to maintain the honor of a knight."

"We must hurry. It's getting late." The priestess Lina stepped in, "Sister, we need to find a place to stay."

"Right." Catherine responded and continued speaking to the coachman, "Sir, we need to continue our search for suitable teammates early tomorrow morning, and the need for early rest tonight is imperative. I regret to say that it's time for us to part ways. We wish you the best of luck in everything you do."

"Wait," the coachman hastily stopped Catherine who was about to turn and leave, "I might not understand the nature of your tasks, but I discern you're searching for some formidable companions."

"That's correct. Do you have anyone in mind?" Lina quickly responded.

"Plough and Malt." the coachman recommended confidently, "You could try your luck at the Plough and Malt Tavern. It's the largest tavern in town, and the owner is the most informed source in these parts. Whether you're looking for accommodations or local news, your best chance is at the tavern. It's located in the inner district with a clear sign."

"Thank you very much!" Fearing Catherine might launch into a long discourse of gratitude, Lina hustled her and the young Vivian towards the inner district. Lina, excited, couldn't help muttering to herself, "Plough and Malt, such a peculiar name. The protagonist in Dragons and the Empire also said that unexpected adventures often happen in taverns with such peculiar names. Catherine, Vivian, let's move. Good fortune awaits us."

"Uh? Where are we?" Vivian, being dragged along hastily, interrupted her chain of thoughts and asked in confusion, "Where are we going?"

"Doesn't matter," unbeknownst to her, Lina replied impatiently. "You go on thinking. Just follow and keep up."

"Oh."

The Plough and Malt Tavern, located in the inner district of Quinzel town, was the largest tavern in the town and the busiest venue. It drew the town's inhabitants, the travelling merchants, large groups of mercenaries, and small bands of adventurers as the sun set. These people, after a whole day of hustle, would saunter in for a hearty brew and relax over friendly banter, embellishing past heroic feats and proud moments, to add a dash of excitement to their otherwise mundane lives.

The Tavern was not grand, with a main hall just about three hundred square meters, ample enough for around twenty tables scattered around. The place was lively with customers who filled more than half of the tables. Constantly scurrying among the tables were two women in their twenties, maintaining professional smiles, and expertly navigating spaces between tables and the occasional outstretched hands aiming to take advantage of them. When they failed to evade, their screams mingled with curses, amidst men's laughter.

In the corner of the great hall there was a platform, about half a meter high and spread over a dozen square meters. This area was provided for free by the tavern for any minstrels passing through, offering to let them perform to earn travel expenses. Directly opposite the front door stood a spacious bar where the tavern owner and his wife kept themselves busy. A ring of chairs outside the bar provided seating for solitary patrons. If you wanted accommodations without resorting to an inn, the tavern could fill your need. The second floor hosting about ten rooms catered to such customers.

As Catherine pushed open the door of the Tavern, a cacophony of voices and a low song accompanied by a Frolan Harp greeted the trio.

"The dwarf's battle axe, sweeps away the wicked,"

"The elf's feathered arrows, re-bury the undead,"

"In front of the magic swordsman, the brilliance of sword qi and magic alternately flashing,"

"Where the knight's spear points, a brave charge unstoppable,"

"Glistening from the shadows, is the dagger in the hand of the sand people,"

"Around the totem pole, the spirits of the ancestor beast-men chant,"

"In the berserker's battle cry, all enemies are torn apart!"

"Resounding on the battlefield, was the echo of the crystal lances booming."

"Twins of light and darkness, channeling the wrath of the gods of light."

"Dancing magic elements, displaying the glory of earth, water, fire, and wind."

"The sharp fangs and claws of magical beasts gleam in the darkness."

"Blazing dragon breath, bringing destruction from above."

"Skeletons of the undead, piled up like small hills."

"Despite numerous obstacles, the heroes were drawing near to where it all began."

"The indomitable Shaman offered everything to the ancestors."

"Burning their lives to block the enemy, their souls returned to the side of the ancestors, transformed into sacred wolves running across the prairie."

"Finally, the heroes came face to face with the fragmented, twisted evil god."

"Every man did his part, as the flames of war soared."

"In desperation, the evil god charged at the heroes' ranks."

"Coveting the heroes' bodies, the evil god sought to acquire the power of the living."

"Undaunted, the knight charged at the evil god, her sanctified body encasing the god's filthy spirit."

"The evil god's plot didn't succeed—stuck in the knight's chest was her own spear that bore the inscription of Virtue."

Standing at the door of the tavern, Catherine silently listened to the bard's song. By the end, her eyes became teary. A silver coin flicked from between Catherine's fingers, drawing an arc in mid-air before it landed in the bard's hat.

"Ha, a silver coin," Lina said with a sneer, "When did our leader get so generous?"

"Those who spread the stories of heroes," Catherine answered while walking towards the bar, "Should be rewarded. I paid for this coin by myself."

Lina covered her mouth with a mischievous laugh, "I think you just couldn't help yourself when you heard the name of the one you admire."

"Actually, you're right." Catherine straightforwardly admitted.

The three girls made their way through the crowd in the tavern, and when the tavern goers who wanted to accost the three beauties saw the uniforms of professionals on them, they backed off. Only one heavily drunk man wanted to make a fuss, but in the blink of an eye, the hammer at the waist of the priestess girl, was resting at the tip of his nose.

Ignoring the violent threat behind them, the knight led the two girls to the bar and sat down.

The bar owner is a Wolf Tribe Beastman, his characteristics were not very obvious, it was hard to tell his identity if his ears and tail were hidden. But he was exceptionally large, standing behind the bar, his head almost bumped against the cabinet on top of the bar. The tall Wolf Tribe owner was wiping the freshly washed plates and goblets with a cloth. He glanced at the three girls and remained silent. The pretty Fox Clan bartender woman was beside the owner busily preparing the customers' drinks, she saw the three girls sit down and gave them a friendly smile.

"One beer, two Dragon Flame Orange Juices." Catherine took out five silver coins and placed them in front of the owner.

"Two is enough." The owner glanced at the coins in front of him, muttered in a low voice, "Alright, what do you want to know?"

"It seems you two are professionals too? Are you adventurers?" Catherine's social skills were well-practiced, she was usually responsible for the team's external affairs, at least when she wasn't carried away by her knightly spirit into preaching or singing praises.

"Not adventurers, we used to be mercenaries." The owner wiped the plate, his head lowered, "Until our deputy leader was shot with an arrow."

Catherine paused, "Why did you stop being mercenaries when your deputy leader was shot?"

"Because I was the one who shot him." Saying something so horrifying, the owner's wife had a proud smile on her face.