Orcs and the Lute

Half-Orc Grimm turned around and laughed. "Ha! That's interesting! Usually I'm the one chasing people down for payment. It's rare to find someone as eager as you.

"Fine. You seem like a decent kid, unlike those who like to skip out on their tabs. The homebrew's 20 copper nails, and the ribs are 88. Let's call it an even one Silver Scale. Just toss it on the bar!"

He Xi watched Grimm hack away at the meat.

"That's a pretty generous portion."

He set a Silver Scale on the bar, then found a seat near the fireplace.

First, he checked his points.

[Race: Half-Orc]

[Parsing Points: 5]

[Extract Trait: Requires 20 Parsing Points]

Good. The target wasn't too high.

He took a sip of the Orcish Liquor. A line of fire burned from his throat to his stomach, then turned into a warm current.

"My name's Galen," he said to Grimm, who was carving up the roast. "Your tavern's really nicely decorated, boss. But how'd you come up with the name 'Orcs and the Lute'?"

[Half-Orc · Grimm's Favorability toward you increased, Parsing Points +5]

Grimm cut off a large rib without looking up. "Just call me Grimm. Orcs and the Lute, huh..."

His voice trailed off, as if he'd fallen into memories of a distant past.

"Come to think of it, nobody's asked me about that in a long time."

He placed the roast on a huge wooden cutting board and deftly carved it with a small knife.

"My mother was an orc warrior from the Skullcrusher Tribe. One rainy night, she saved a human bard who knew how to play the lute and sweet-talk people. And then... I came along."

"But," Grimm said with a hint of scorn, "I never met that damned bard. The bastard probably took off with his lute before my mother started showing. So, honestly, I've never had much love for those bullshit bards."

As he spoke, He Xi's gaze drifted to the empty little stage in a corner of the tavern. A three-legged wooden stool sat there all by itself, clearly meant for a bard.

Noticing He Xi's gaze, Grimm added, "But my mother... She never forgot that smooth-talking bastard, not even on her deathbed.

"When I was little, she'd often sharpen her Battle Axe while telling me about the first time she heard him play the lute. She said it sounded like spring water dripping onto stone, and that his tales of the world beyond were far more interesting than the tribe's legends."

"Later, conflict broke out between the tribes, and she died in battle. I was left an orphan, bounced around until I became an adventurer, and scraped by with my life on the line.

"Then I'd had enough adventuring. I still had all my limbs, more or less, so I used my savings to open this place in town."

Grimm's voice grew low. "Even though I hate that irresponsible bard with all my heart, I miss my mother a lot. That's why I chose the name 'Orcs and the Lute,' as a way to remember her."

He spread his hands helplessly. "Maybe the name does give people the wrong idea? Some customers come in because of the words 'the Lute,' hoping to hear some soft, sweet little tunes. What can I do? For business, I have to hire bards to perform now and then."

He Xi stared at the empty little stage, lost in thought.

He hadn't expected the rugged, boisterous half-orc tavern owner to have such tender, even sorrowful feelings hidden inside.

His mother's love story with the bard was quite... unusual.

A bard sowing his wild oats and leaving a child behind—that fit He Xi's stereotype of the profession, though the fact that the woman in question had been an orc did make the pairing extraordinary.

But perhaps, to that bard, it had been a pursuit of art or romance beyond the boundaries of race?

He Xi couldn't understand it.

Then he noticed some dark red stains on the stage floor. They looked like dried blood.

Grimm followed his gaze. Anger flared in his one eye as he grumbled, "I told you I can't stand those guys. The bastard who came by last time wasn't much of a musician, but he sure had nerve. He kept getting handsy and flirting with the only waitress I've got!"

He pointed at the stains. "I caught him red-handed and gave him a good beating. That blood's his! Now the bard hasn't dared show his face in days, and my waitress hasn't come to work in days either!"

"Then a customer told me he saw the two of them strolling down the street arm in arm. zog ga (orcish slang)! Unbelievable!"

As he spoke, his hands never stopped moving.

He brushed a thick, dark brown sauce over the carved beef ribs, then set them on a smooth stone slab that had been warming beside the fireplace.

He added a big chunk of bread with a crisp, dark crust and a small carving knife, then pushed it all in front of He Xi.

"Maybe... I should cross out rule number two," he muttered.

Then he placed the two ribs he'd trimmed away on the floor beside He Xi's feet.

Watching Bruce's tail wag so excitedly it was almost a blur, He Xi couldn't help thinking, If Boss Grimm could see Favorability notifications too, Bruce would've flooded him with them by now.

He picked up the knife and began to enjoy the sumptuous dinner that had cost him a Silver Scale.

To be honest, as a meal, it was far beyond what he could have afforded back when he lived in Plint.

Back then, he usually cooked for himself.

He'd known how to cook before he transmigrated, but since arriving in this other world, he hadn't managed to make anything decent.

There were many reasons: the ingredients in this world were vastly different from those on Earth, and he didn't recognize many of the spices and seasonings. More importantly, he had almost no money—he could barely afford meat.

In Plint, his daily meals consisted of chewing on Black Bread hard enough to serve as a brick, occasionally washing it down with a bowl of watery bean soup and a few pieces of salty pickled fish as a special treat.

He put a piece of meat in his mouth.

The outside was crisp and fragrant, and juices burst from the meat as soon as he bit into it.

The Cracked Hoof Bull tasted a lot like beef, but seemed fattier, with a peculiar, wild aroma that came through as he chewed.

And Grimm's special sauce was the real star!

With his cooking experience as a transmigrator, He Xi could tell it definitely contained the roasted fragrance of garlic and the mellow richness of some kind of liquor. But there was also a spicy, complex flavor he couldn't identify at all.

Watching him eat with gusto, shoveling down the meat without a hint of pretense, Grimm's one eye flashed with satisfaction. He teased, "Looks like you really were hungry, kid. The way you eat, you've got a bit of an orc's spirit."

With his mouth full of meat, He Xi mumbled, "Ish... sho good!"

[Half-Orc · Grimm's Favorability toward you increased, Parsing Points +4]