Page 1 of Potions & Pints
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The feeling of solid ground — even if the ground was only sand for now — was the sweetest thing Tan could have hoped for. All he’d had to hold onto for the last several hours was a stolen life ring. Apart from that, it was just miles and miles of open sea. Until now.
“Oh, thank the goddess,” he breathed as he clambered up the sandy shore, clutching at the ground like the salvation it was.
The next moment, though, he clutched at something else. Thrusting his hand in his pocket, Tan’s fingers closed around a smooth, round rock. He breathed a sigh of relief. The moonstone he’d stolen from Sunfall had cost him a lot, and he didn’t want it to be for naught. Tucking it back into place he hoisted himself up off the beach.
“Alright, where am I?” the elf muttered to himself, gazing at what appeared to be an island settlement.
He had no idea how far he’d floated — he was used to captaining ships, not life rings — but he could more or less guess the direction he’d traveled, given the position of the sun.
In this part of the Verphalian Ocean, there were only so many islands. He figured he must be somewhere near Chimanisle, though not on the island itself. He knew the land of satyrs and centaurs well enough by now to know that this wasn’t it. The sea must have washed him up on one of the tiny islets surrounding it instead.
Not exactly where he wanted to end up, but it could have been worse. He could have landed back in Lameria and been promptly rearrested for what he did in Sunfall.
Well, this is as good a place as any to make a living,he thought, trudging his way through the sand.At least for now.
The townspeople, however, thought a little differently. As he approached one shop after another, citizens turned him away.
“Sorry, friend, we don’t hire vagabonds,” came one reply from the postmaster.
“No begging outside my store!” cried another — a woman running a stationery shop.
It was no wonder, really. For an elf ordinarily blessed with good looks, Tan was looking worse for wear. His long, shining blond hair was now matted and weighed down with seawater and sand. His sharp blue eyes were glazed and reddened from the stinging saltwater. His clothes were waterlogged and his boots squelched as he walked. He tried another place but received much the same reply.
“We don’t need anyone,” said the green grocer who quickly scurried back inside, leaving Tan standing in a small puddle of his own making.
A couple of children walked past, pointed at him, and whispered to each other before running away. Their giggles echoed all the way back to him through the narrow street.
Usually, Tan felt a thrill when people stared at him — he was nothing if not a little vain. But now it simply put him in a bad mood. The trail of wet footprints he left behind him didn’t help things, either.
His efforts in town were clearly fruitless, and along with his sopping clothes, dreadful looks, and chafing thighs, Tan’s stomach was grumbling. He hadn’t eaten since jumping ship that morning and if he didn’t get some work soon, he’d be forced to steal food.
Not that theft was beneath him, but in a town this small, and with everyone staring at him wherever he went, Tan got the feeling it wasn’t going to be an easy task. It was also very likely to get law enforcement asking questions about him that he’d much rather not have to answer.
He tried to approach another establishment looking for work, but the proprietor shut and locked the door before he could even get a word out.
Fine, he thought, a little sullenly.If no one wants this flotsam and jetsam, then it’s back to the sea I go.
He asked directions and then headed down to the docks, hoping that at least other seafarers would appreciate what he had to offer. The sea was what he knew best, after all. As he arrived at the bustling port, he caught sight of a sign, facing out to the arriving boats.
Welcome to Lurg, it read.
Tan only scoffed.
“Well, Lurg, good riddance,” he muttered to the sign before turning back to the ships lined up along the dock.
He wandered along, hoping to find a boat that might be headed for the northern continent of Selkirk— that was where his allegiance laid, he reminded himself, even if he had grown a little fond of those in Sunfall.
But he brushed the thought aside. He had no time for the south and in any case, his cover there had been blown. He could never go back.
His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a gruff hand on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see a human sailor, harsh and sea-weathered pulling him toward a ship.
“Right, vagabond, you’re with me now,” he snarled.
Tan wasn’t having it. He’d come to the docks looking for paid work, not indentured servitude. Even in his roughened state, Tan didn’t think he’d actually be taken for a vagabond and he tried to argue as such. But no matter how much he argued or how hard he struggled, the man wouldn’t let go.
“Yeah sure, they all say the same thing. ‘I’m not really a vagabond.’ Give me a break,” the man scowled, dragging Tan towards the gangplank.
