Page 3 of Potions & Pints
In fact, it seemed there already was a bartender — at least, there had been a goblin behind the bar when they walked in. But it quickly became clear she was only a placeholder.
“I’m taking this as pay!” she yelled at the satyr, and Tan saw her pour herself an ale before retreating back to one of the tables.
The satyr sighed. “Alright Magella,” he called back wearily before training his eyes on Tan again.
“Look, we lost our last bartender and we need you to take his place. Doesn’t sound like you have a lot of other options either, so I don’t see how this can’t work out for all of us,” said the old satyr. “Elves are good at making conversation and the like, and good with figures. And it seemed like you needed employment as much as we needed someone to employ someone who wouldn’t threaten to eat the clientele.”
He peered expectantly at Tan, as if that should be the end of the discussion.
Tan had to admit he had a point, but the bar seemed like a rough place from the outset. Most of the patrons seemed to be orcs and goblins with only a couple of sorry-looking satyrs nursing their drinks alone. It was only mid-afternoon and already Tan spied a couple of drunk patrons.
In fact, as he looked around the bar, he caught sight of several goblins munching on platefuls of bones. Not just chewing on the meat, he noticed, but crunching bones themselves.
“And what exactly happened to the last bartender?” Tan asked suspiciously, turning back to the satyr and his smiling orc friend. “Did you serve him up?”
He jerked his thumb back in the direction of the goblins.
The satyr managed a smirk through his graying beard, but the orc laughed heartily. There was something in the laugh that almost put Tan at ease. Almost.
“No, of course not,” the orc assured. “He sought passage to Lameria. His ship set sail a few days ago and we’ve been trying to find someone since.”
“Any reason for that?” Tan asked, gesturing around the bar.
The satyr grunted, obviously a little insulted, and Tan figured it might have been better to hold his tongue after all.
“I’m just trying to understand what your offer is, and why I’m apparently the only one you can find to tend bar here, that’s all,” he replied hastily.
He didn’t exactly want the job, but he didn’t want to shoot himself in the foot yet either.
Luckily, the orc was still smiling at him. “You just seem like a good candidate.”
“Oh, do I?” replied Tan, but his words weren’t scathing.
If anything, he was just biding his time, trying to decide whether or not he wanted the gig. He was still trying to think of a better plan than serving drinks to bone-crunching goblins. He was a sailor and a smuggler, not a bartender, and this bar didn’t seem like the nicest place to spend his time while he figured out a way back to the North.
“It’s just, you don’t really know the first thing about me,” he continued, trying his best to walk the thin line between careful and insulting. “And I don’t know the first thing about you two either.”
He looked between the two men.
“Of course!” cried the orc. “I’m Vir, and this is Cionus. He’s the owner of the bar.”
“And you are?” asked the satyr, a little gruffly.
Tan definitely got the impression he couldn’t care less who was manning the bar, as long as they started soon. That explained his taking the one person no one else on this island wanted a thing to do with.
“Tan’ithir,” the elf replied. “But you can just call me Tan.”
He almost immediately regretted giving his full name. The less people knew who he was, the better. But it was too late for that now.
“Alright then Tan, can we count on your services? It comes with a room upstairs. And a shower,” added the satyr, looking him up and down. “Looks like you could do with one of those.”
Tan had to admit, he did like the sound of that. He was still soaked from the sea and smelling of fish. And if he didn’t take this job, he was fresh out of options. Plus, he thought he might be able to get a free helping of whatever those goblins were munching on. He was so hungry he didn’t even care what it was.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Tan finally acquiesced.
Cionus grunted his approval while Vir somehow grinned even wider. Tan still wasn’t sure about his new companions. The satyr seemed a little shady and the orc’s friendly demeanor somehow put Tan on edge.
Shady he could do — he was a pirate after all. For all he knew, Lurg was home to worse criminals than him. It was possible he was the least of their worries.
