Tavern Brawl

In Cormyr, tensions between the navy and the army had simmered for years.

The Kingdom of Cormyr lay in the heart of the Realms and exported vast quantities of goods. It had little need for imports beyond large shipments of glass, spices, and ivory. Its major exports included armor, ivory goods, clothing, coal, food, weapons, and timber.

Those exports brought the kingdom handsome profits, but they also angered its neighbors. Zambia to the east had clashed with Cormyr repeatedly over trade. The two had even severed diplomatic ties over territorial disputes, and minor skirmishes along their border were countless.

The Moonsea region to the north was just as hostile. Its city-states, centered on Zhentil Keep, had long been controlled by the notorious evil organization known as the Zhentarim. The Zhentarim's ultimate goal was to monopolize all trade in the Moonsea region, and eventually across the entire northern Realms. To that end, it had fought Cormyr many times.

Rumor had it that the Ork tribes occupying Arabel in the north were funded by the Zhentarim, though there was no proof.

Zhentarim activity had fallen sharply in recent years. Bane, the god of tyranny who had pulled its strings, had fallen during the Time of Troubles, and the organization was unsure whether to pledge loyalty to Cyric, who had inherited Bane's divine portfolio.

To the south lay the Dragonmere, leaving the Sword Coast in the west as the only region open for trade.

With so many land routes blocked, sea routes had a major impact on the kingdom's commerce, and the navy grew more important by the day.

The navy always looked down on the army. We keep the kingdom's lifeblood flowing! Without us protecting the shipping lanes, where would its economy be? Where would its thriving trade be?

The army looked down on the navy in turn. Can those lousy boats of yours sail onto land? Where was the navy when we fought and bled to defend Arabel? Where was it when we fought the Orks for our lives in the forests?

Aaron figured the military budget was like a cake. The bigger the army's slice, the smaller the navy's, and vice versa.

This was the lower city. After exchanging a few sidelong glances, both sides showed restraint and sat around separate tables. No one greeted or provoked anyone else.

Once the recruits sat down, Aaron noticed that most of them were solemn. Some were clearly unused to such a setting and tried to keep themselves in check, unwilling to give the nearby navy men anything to laugh at. Others stared at the catgirl by the bar.

"There's a hostess here who worships the Goddess of Cats and Dance. She's very popular!" someone whispered.

Aaron immediately spotted an adorable catgirl standing in front of the bar, drawing in customers. She held drinks on a tray, and the ears atop her head twitched constantly.

More interesting still, her cat ears were real—she was clearly a Beastfolk.

A sign hung around her neck: "Purified. Not contagious."

A catgirl? Why not a bunny girl? Aaron thought. A catgirl's good too. She's so cute!

One recruit could not stop staring at her. Aaron remembered that his name was Ramsay and that he had also come from out of town. He looked around like a newborn, curious about everything.

Havrel went to the bar to order drinks.

"Are we really supposed to be here?" Ramsay asked excitedly, his eyes fixed on the catgirl. "I don't remember the order allowing recruits into places like this."

"If they haven't said we can't come, then of course we can," Aaron said casually. "Don't box yourself in, brother. This is Suzail, not the barracks."

"If you're that worried, you can go back to the fortress right now, Ramsay," said a recruit beside him.

Roswell, the Master Tailor's son.

"Good heavens, by Ilmater, I've never seen such a cute... catgirl." The Purple Dragon recruit from the countryside drooled as he stared at her thighs. "The capital is incredible!"

"Oh, come on. In Ilmater's name, wipe your drool, Ramsay!" Muir of Seabury could not take it anymore. "You're disgracing your god!"

"Don't be so strict, buddy." Havrel returned with a server carrying several large trays of Water of Amn beer. "It's a party."

Water of Amn was an expensive, full-bodied beer found throughout the northern Realms and the Sword Coast. People had given it the grand nickname "the welcome brew."

A full keg, roughly ten liters, cost thirty-six gold coins. Aaron would be spending a bit today.

"To health, to honor, and to the trials a few months from now. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" The recruits raised their mugs together.

A few mouthfuls of beer soon warmed the mood. Seeing several recruits still staring at the catgirl, Havrel simply pulled out a handful of silver coins. "Here, these are yours. Sit down and have a drink with us brothers!"

"Okay, meow~" The catgirl weighed the silver coins with satisfaction, glanced toward the bar, then spun around and sat down. She drained a five-hundred-milliliter mug of beer in one go. "Another one, meow!"

"Hahahahaha!" The recruits burst out laughing, and the mood grew livelier still.

Servers brought out plate after plate of food from the kitchen. Delicious aromas filled the air, and beer foam flew.

"Look, Aaron. Do you know who that idiot in the navy is, the one wearing purple with a gold star on his shoulder?" Havrel asked, discreetly pointing toward the navy men.

"Who?" Aaron was curious too, but he genuinely did not recognize the man.

"Duke Marelli's grandson, Gordon," Havrel said with a wicked grin. "We're in luck today, in more ways than one."

"Oh? So he's Duke Marelli's grandson, Gordon?" Aaron's interest stirred.

Cormyr had two dukes with their own fiefs: Duke Irlingstar and Duke Marelli. Aaron had already met the former and struck up a friendship. As for the latter... unfortunately, choosing to grow close to Duke Irlingstar meant he was bound to be on bad terms with Duke Marelli.

Then let's make things interesting!

The power of Slaanesh within Aaron, which had quieted after his Sorcerer level rose, began to stir again.

He suddenly stood under everyone's gaze and thumped his chest. "Brothers, how about I perform a song for you?"

"Yes!" the recruits shouted together.

"Here we go!" Buoyed by the beer, Aaron stepped onto the stage and gently nudged aside the Bard performing there. He pulled out a gold coin and handed it to him, then pointed at the Tambura in his hands.

"Of course, sir!" The Bard glanced at the sword at Aaron's waist and handed over the instrument without hesitation. Pocketing the coin, he stepped offstage. "Please don't break it, sir."

"Haha! Today, I'll perform a song for everyone here. Hope you like it." Aaron slung the Tambura around his neck and called out with shameless flair, "Sune's Palace!"

The Purple Dragon recruits roared. The navy men fell silent.

In truth, Aaron could not play an instrument at all.

But that was fine. Slaanesh could.

As his fingers began to pluck the strings, beautiful music somehow rang out from every corner of the Dragon Tooth Tavern.

"Driving down a dark and lonely road~ the cool wind lifted my hair~

The heavy scent of musk~ hung in the air~

I looked up into the distance~ and saw lights flickering there~

My head grew heavier~ my sight began to blur~

I had to stop~ and find a place to spend the night~

He—or she? It? The deity?—beckoned to me~ I heard the church bells ring~

I said to myself~ this place was heaven and hell~

Then a candle was lit for me~ to guide me on my way~

Echoes rose from the circular theater~ I thought I heard someone say~

Welcome to Sune's Palace~

What a lovely place~ what a lovely face~

There are so many rooms at Sune's Palace~

Any season, any time~ you can find your way here~"

Applause thundered, and cheers filled the tavern like a bustling marketplace. Music was a language all mortals shared.

At first, the naval officers had met Aaron's performance with indifference. But as the melody went on, even those most hostile to him could not help applauding.

When the song ended, Aaron returned the Tambura to the Bard.

He understood charisma-based spellcasting better now.

If Sorcerers used the power of their bloodlines to draw magic into the world through force of will, Bards used poetry and music as their medium for influencing it.

It was an easy profession to pick up but hard to master. Bards had a bit of everything and could do a bit of anything, yet struggled to master any one thing. They also relied relatively heavily on their teammates.

No wonder Bards had the fewest legends among their ranks.

"I'd like to see your boss," Aaron said calmly to the bartender behind the bar.

After the tavern-wide spectacle of "Sune's Palace," the viscount got his wish.

The head of the Dragon's Tooth Gang was named Marlon. He looked to be a sturdy man in his early thirties and stood over two meters tall. He was solidly built, with the strongest upper body Aaron had ever seen. Scars covered his bronze muscles.

As the weather grew hotter, the gang leader wore only a short vest and shorts of the sort sailors favored. His round black eyes held suspicion and indifference as he watched the bartender bring Aaron up to the third floor.

"To be honest, you're not very welcome here, Viscount Salian." Marlon opened a bottle of rum. The gang boss showed none of the respect one might expect for a great noble of Suzail. "And I didn't want to meet you."

"You know me?" Aaron sat down as if he belonged there and gestured for a drink of his own.

"You're something of a celebrity in Suzail." Marlon shook his head. "As for respect, Your Excellency, let's keep it simple. If you're here on behalf of the royal family to arrest me, my respect isn't worth a thing. If you need my help, it's worth just as little."

"At least you're honest." Aaron gave a faint snort. "Dread pirate, are you? You can't make a living handling cats forever."

"So, have you come to haul me in, Your Excellency, or do you need help?" Marlon pushed the rum toward Aaron. "Either way, drink this."

"Rum stands for bread and salt?" Aaron picked up the mug and drank.

"To a sailor, yes." Seeing Aaron drink the rum without the slightest hesitation, Marlon finally shed a little of his contempt.

"I chose the place." Aaron paused and blinked. "And I'm paying."

"Seems this dread pirate is quite popular." Marlon glanced downstairs. "See Duke Marelli's grandson over there? He said the same thing. Look, your brothers-in-arms and that navy crowd are fighting over the cat now."

Something clicked in Aaron's mind, and several suspicions quickly surfaced.

This was valuable information. Without making a show of it, the leader of the Dragon's Tooth Gang had told him something important.

Interesting. Looks like he's searching for a way forward too. Aaron glanced downstairs as well.

After he left, the naval officers led by Gordon had refused to be outdone. They had produced a handful of silver coins and called the catgirl over to them.

How could Havrel swallow that? He took two gold coins from his belt and called her back.

"I need you to investigate someone for me." Aaron took a rolled parchment from his coat.

Marlon accepted it. "Warlock Mepham? What makes you think the Dragon's Tooth Gang can find someone even the Queen's Blade couldn't?"

"If you can handle cats and get hold of El-Toril grey cheese, then you can certainly handle a person too, can't you?" Aaron interlaced his fingers, his sky-blue eyes pressing hard on Marlon. "Don't tell me you've never done it."

"...I don't want your money. I want you to owe me a favor, last of the Salians." Marlon carefully put away the parchment and nodded his agreement. "I'll have my boys watch for someone like that. If they hear anything, you'll be the first to know."

"Then I look forward to working together!" Aaron stood and offered his hand.

"Likewise!" Marlon rose too. The Dragon's Tooth Gang leader, strong as a bull, thought for a moment. "I'll throw in a tip worth a thousand Golden Lions. Want to hear it?"

Aaron gestured for him to continue.

"If Orks give you trouble anywhere in Cormyr, you can pose as a Drow," Marlon said calmly. "Or someone from the Zhentarim. Just remember to act tough. The tougher, the better."

Aaron frowned. Were the Drow in league with the Orks too?

He had heard that many Drow appeared in Tifanton, the major northern city that had fallen. Apparently, it was true.

"I know how to play a Drow," Aaron said confidently.

"Then have you figured out what to do about downstairs?" Marlon pointed below. "Hurry up. I don't want my tavern shut down tomorrow."

Tension had already flared in the main hall. Both sides were getting genuinely worked up over the catgirl.

Havrel pulled out a great handful of gold coins, then produced a magical party popper and set it off. Fireworks lit the dim hall of the Dragon Tooth Tavern and made everyone's eyes shine.

Gordon Marelli refused to be outdone. He pulled out a Three Crowns platinum coin and a beautiful little bell.

Called back and forth several times, the catgirl was growing confused. "Wah, Nicole-meow doesn't know what to do! They all have so much money, and Nicole-meow doesn't know where to go!"

"Save the kitty~ Save the kitty!"

The tension kept building. Both groups had been drinking, and the hot-tempered Havrel and Norrington were already at the front, arguing with Gordon Marelli. They shoved each other and traded insults.

Just as everyone was about to come to blows, Aaron appeared on the stairs. Viscount Salian roared, "Wait!"

Everyone stopped for the moment.

"If you want to fight, take it outside! No weapons, just fists!" Aaron shouted. "And why didn't anyone invite me? Am I invisible?"

"Fine! You've got guts. Outside it is, and Salian's part of it!" a naval officer yelled. "I'll smash that powdered pretty-boy face of yours!"

"We were waiting for you, Aaron! Let's beat the hell out of these navy idiots!" Havrel's beer had gone to his head. He let out a huge burp, waved his fists, and pounded his chest. "Let's show them what we Purple Dragon Knights can do!"

"Dear gods, by the Lady of the Oceans, I never should've opened today!" Marlon covered his face. Furious, the gang boss kicked a nearby thug. "Send someone to watch them. Don't let anyone get killed!"

The two groups of professional soldiers poured noisily out of the Dragon Tooth Tavern and lined up in the street. Sensibly, both sides left their weapons inside.

"Ready!" someone shouted. "Go!"

Grease! Under cover of darkness, Aaron secretly chanted a spell with a lump of butter he had swiped from the tavern in his hand. Slick grease spread across the already filthy street.

Caught off guard, the naval officers went down in a heap.

"Get him! Get them!"

Aaron charged in first and swung a fist straight at Gordon Marelli's face!

Crack! His nose broke.

I got up at five in the morning. That felt much better~