Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [107]
This was by far the most extensive damage done by any tavern brawl in Kendel's memory, which was long indeed. He noticed all of these things in a glance. Port Kb was a dangerous place, and those who wished to survive learned to sharpen their senses and keep alert for signs of danger.
Kendel was also keenly aware of the fact that he was conspicuous even in this crowded taproom. Most native Tethyrians had olive skin, dark eyes, and hair that ranged from chestnut to black. Most of the sailors and dockhands who packed the tavern were heavily muscled from their labors. In stark contrast to his fellows, Kendel had red-gold hair, sky-colored eyes, and a pale skin that no amount of southern sun could darken. He was strong, yet he remained slightly built and stood no more than a hand-span or two over five feet. He was, in short, an elf.
"Wuddle have?" demanded an exceedingly deep, gruff voice from somewhere beyond the counter.
Puzzled, the elf leaned forward and peered down over the bar. Glaring at him was the upturned face of a young dwarf with a short, dun-colored beard and a face as glum as a rainy morning.
"An elf! Well then, no need to be telling me," the dwarf continued sourly. "The ale here's too rough fer the likes of you, so yer wanting a goblet of bubbly water. Or mebbe some nice warm milk."
"Or perhaps elverquisst," Kendel suggested coldly. The delicate appearance of the elven folk often led other races to make such assumptions, while in reality, elven wines and liquors were among the most potent in all Faerun.
"Oh, elverquisst, is it? Sure, this place's got barrels of fine elven wines," the dwarf rejoined with heavy sarcasm. "And the privies out back is full to overflowing with jools, too, if n you get my meaning."
An involuntary smile tugged at the corner of Kendel's lips. He shared the new barkeep's dubious opinion of the Dusty Throat's wine cellar. And although he himself might not have phrased his criticism in quite the same manner, he had to agree the dwarfs comparison was apt.
"Truth be told, wouldn't be minding a big mug of that elverquisst stuff meself right about now," the dwarf continued in a wistful tone. "Now there's a drink that can strip paint an' melt scrap metal!"
"I've never heard elverquisst described in quite those terms," Kendel replied mildly. "You have troubles that require drowning, I take it?"
"Aye."
Belatedly, the dwarven barkeep seemed to recall both his duties and the dour reputation of his people. He closed his mouth with an audible click and snatched up the bar rag draped on a small, squat keg behind him With this he began to wipe the counter, hopping up repeatedly as he took one swipe at a time.
The elf suppressed a smile. "You might pull the keg closer to the bar," he suggested. "That might make your duties easier, as well as enable you to see the patrons."
"Ain't nobody here worth seeing," grumbled the dwarfj but he promptly did as Kendel suggested. After a moment, he climbed onto the keg and thunked a frothy tankard down before the elf. "Ale. It ain't good, but it's the best this place has got. Me, I find ale tastes better without the seawater what they add to stretch it out!"
Kendel accepted the drink with a nod and took a sip. It was indeed better than any he'd ever tasted in the tavern. In return, he slipped a small silver coin from his pocket and slid it toward the barkeep. The dwarf fielded it with a quick, insouciant sweep of the bar rag.
"Can't be letting them see it, or they'd have it from me faster'n a drunken halfling with a willing maid. The folk what run this place is mighty quick to take coins