First Stop: A Scottish Inn

John had to fight the sudden urge to throw up caused by being suddenly teleported. Being a first-time experience for him, his eyes were also having trouble adjusting to the sudden change of scenery; neither the fact that he was suddenly outside or the light drizzle falling on top of him helped. As he was pulling himself together, he noticed that he was now standing outside on the corner of a street he didn’t recognize. I guess I really am not in Springfield anymore.

From his experience of playing online with British gamers, John estimated that it was early afternoon local time. Feeling the increasing intensity of raindrops, John decided to get out of the rain while he waited for his guide. He started to walk towards a coffee shop located on the other side of the road.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked a black cat that had suddenly jumped in front of him.

“Oh good, a talking cat, as if being teleported wasn’t weird enough,” John said out loud not realizing he was being rude to the feline.

“Yes, I can talk, woopty doo,” answered the cat sarcastically. “Now follow me, you have wasted enough of my time and I am wet.”

Before following the cat, John decided to cast observe to be sure of its identity.

John marveled at the observe window’s new interface, even though some of the information was altered or non-available. Not knowing what NOYB meant, he clicked on the word and got the answer: None Of Your Business.

“Come on, kid. We haven’t got all day,” the cat yelled impatiently while crossing the road.

The range of emotions that John discovered Katia was feeling had made him worried about her intentions and about how trustworthy a guide she would be. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any other options and decided to follow her. He hoped that they would at least get out of the rain.

“I don’t know what that witch expects of me, I won’t be much help to you in this form,” Katia said while still walking. She turned towards a paved walkway. “Once we get inside this place, you’re on your own. I’ll wait for you here to send you back when you finish your job.”

They reached the doorway of what John believed to be a house, but above the door, there was a sign that stated the name of the place: Clan Mackenzie’s Inn. John just stood there not knowing what to make of what he just read. Even though the name was of Scottish origin, it was the last thing he’d expect to find written on top of a doorway.

He was brought back from his thoughts by a sudden bite from Katia at his left ankle. She wanted him to open the door for her; he did so and they entered, John being quite a few steps behind her.

“Hey Katia, I haven’t seen you in a while. Same as always?” said a big red-headed man behind a counter. He somehow had recognized her and knew her well enough because he didn’t wait for her answer and proceeded to get a bottle of milk from a fridge on the other side of the counter.

“Yes, please. It better be a fresh batch. Have someone bring it to me by the fireplace” Before leaving John, she turned to him and gave a piece of advice. “I suggest you start by talking to him, he is the innkeeper.” Before he could say anything to her, she turned and left.

John watched the cat walking towards the fireplace, she passed by a couple of occupied tables just before lying down on the carpet next to it. John’s eyes went wide when he saw three dwarves sitting at one of the tables. They were chatting and drinking beer from their glass mugs. Two days ago, he would have never thought he’d ever see a real dwarf in his life, much less three in full battle gear and with their helmets on the floor. He spotted their weapons by the wall close to their table; he didn’t need to use observe to identify the two war hammers and the one battle axe. As he watched them further, he noticed that they were in a somber mood; they were almost too tired to drink from their mugs.

The way the dwarves behaved made John look around and notice that the other patrons of the place were mostly in the same state. The pub was mostly somberly quiet, not at all the atmosphere he’d expect a Scottish pub to be in, even though it was early afternoon.

He spotted a girl at another table by the dark corner of the place. She was by herself, and John got a weird sensation when he noticed she was smiling while staring at him. Her obvious stare towards him wasn’t the only thing that had drawn his attention to her; everything about her seemed to match a color scheme. From the light of the candle at her table, he could see the combination of brown, white and pink colors from her clothes to her hair; even her eyes matched the scheme: pink on the right and brown on the left.

“Hoi, laddy. Ya at the doorway,” called the man at the counter. John’s attention was suddenly turned towards the innkeeper wondering if he meant him. “Hey, ya’re ordering something or are ya just going to stand there?” John didn’t answer, he just stared at the man who was now patiently waiting. When he finally turned back towards the girl, she was gone; he couldn’t find her anywhere. He wanted to kick himself for not using observe on her.

Finally putting his mind on the quest, John decided to head over to the counter and talk with who he believed to be the innkeeper; maybe he’d be able to gather some of the information from him.

“Good afternoon, young lad. Welcome to Clan Mackenzie’s Inn!” The innkeeper greeted him while doing the typical wiping of the counter.

“Wait, so this really is a Mackenzie family establishment? Where exactly am I?” John asked still distraught by the name of the place he was in.

“Ya got sent here without knowing your destination?” The innkeeper laughed at his customer.

“Well, not totally. I know I am in Scotland. Is this is a normal occurrence?” John wondered not really expecting an answer; he preferred an answer to his previous question.

“Well, ya’re definitely not the first to be sent here under the same circumstances. I hope ya traveled willingly.” He eyed John. “Ya, laddie - well let me give you the full address, you are in Clan Mackenzie’s Inn, at the lovely barrier city of Aviemore situated in the Highlands of Scotland.

“Sorry, how rude of me,” he said as he came to a sudden realization. “Here I have a distraught customer, my first new one in a while, and I haven’t even introduced myself. I am Robert Mackenzie, the owner of this inn.”

“I am The Gamer,” John willingly identified himself following Mrs. Wentworth’s advice. “So, I really am in Scotland. How the hell did she send me so far? And I don’t even know what I am looking for over here. And at a Mackenzie establishment of all places. Did she send me here on purpose?”

“Hold on, laddie, ya going too fast there.” Robert laughed once more. “Did a Mackenzie clan member send ya here?”

“No, not really, it was someone else,” John answered. “But I do have a... well, a friend whose surname is Mackenzie, but I am pretty sure she is mundane. She is Scottish though.”

“Fair enough, not all of us are members of the Abyss.” The owner of the establishment smiled at him. “So, ya got sent here without a clue of what ya should be doing?”

“Well, my teacher sent me here. Her office was raided by Bauchans and she sent me here to try to determine how they found out about her place.”

“A fair enough reason. I am guessing she’s the one who told you to identify yourself as The Gamer instead of using your real name.” The innkeeper saw the worried look on John’s face and tried to reassure him, “Don’t ya worry, laddy, it’s a very normal occurrence over here.

“Now, you said Bauchans, right?” he asked; not waiting for John to answer, he continued, “Nasty creatures, still, not particularly dangerous if you have the skills. They’re more of an annoyance really.”

“Tell me about it. I was attacked by three of them, I barely escaped.”

“Wait, are ya telling me that three of them nearly killed ya, and your teacher just sent ya to a region that is being raided by them almost daily? What kind of teacher is she?” asked the astonished Robert.

What kind indeed, John thought and then realized what the innkeeper just told him. “Daily raids?”

“Aye, there are a bunch of them in the region. They are probably a raiding party from a tribe from the north.” Robert sighed. “We don’t actually know where they established their camp. Unfortunately, the local clans are too busy with other, more important matters to search and deal with them. I wish you luck if you’re trying to find them.

“But before ya go, why don’t ya have a drink? Ya just got here. Let me see,” he sniffed in John’s direction. “Just turned eighteen, huh? That means I can serve you some of the harder stuff. I’ve also got a nice boar roasting on a spit.”

“Sorry, no **** for me. But I am hungry,” John said as he realized his quick breakfast didn’t exactly do its job. He didn’t want to explain to the innkeeper about one of his quests. So, he just tried a simple order. “Do you, by any chance, serve any juice or fruit?”

“Maria,” Robert suddenly yelled.

“Si?” answered a head that suddenly appeared through a window behind him.

“The lad here wants some fruits and a glass of juice. This is ya territory, what dae we have available?”

“Que? Just fruit and juice?” she inquired with a heavy Spanish accent. “I guess I can make him a fruit salad, I just got some fresh fruits from the market.” She left to prepare the order.

“Great woman, Maria,” Robert turned back to John as Maria went back to the kitchen. “Very good cook too. Ya’ll see what I mean once she delivers whatever she is concocting in there.”

John just smiled and then allowed his earlier curiosity to ask the man in front of him, “Is this place always this silent? I know it’s early noon, but I would have expected at least a better atmosphere here.” As soon as he finished talking, John regretted doing so.

Robert noticed this and said, “It’s ok, lad. Ya’re right though, it was not always this way. There are a few factors to this somber mood. Most of my customers just come here now to rest from their latest battles, and the current clan leadership dispute has only made things worse. Those bloody Bauchans are an issue too; even though you’d help me a lot by helping us get rid of them, I hope you are careful. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“The fruit salad is ready,” Maria once again appeared through the window and handed the innkeeper a bowl.

“That was quick,” Robert said while taking the bowl and handing it to John.

“Well, there was no actual cooking involved, just the chopping of some fruits and the squeezing of some fresh oranges. Oops, I forgot the glass of juice,” she exclaimed as she popped back inside the kitchen.

John waited patiently for his juice, and as soon as he got it, he dove in. “Wow, this is delicious,” he said while savoring the sweet taste of the fruit salad. “What did you put in it?”

“I told you she was good,” a proud Robert said before Maria could answer.

“Why, thank you,” Maria blushed and answered John. “Well, if you must know, it’s basically diced fruits: orange, mango, pineapple, banana, papaya, and fresh orange juice. I’ve also added some kiwi and grapes to add to the taste and to give it more color.”

“You mean to tell me these are naturally this sweet? Even the juice?”John asked, realizing he should have done so before he started eating.

“Of course.” She smiled at him. “If you know how to select the right orange, a freshly squeezed juice from it will almost always be sweet without the need of any sugar.”

A happy John finished his bowl and asked, “Please, Ma’am, may I have some more?”

Both Maria and Robert laughed at John’s impersonation. “Sure, sweety,” she said as her boss handed her the empty bowl. “There is plenty left over; I’ll fill this bowl and put the rest in a container and leave it in the fridge to keep it fresh for longer. Just in case you still want more later.”

While John was eating his second serving of the fruit salad, the door through which John had entered the inn was once again opened and a very distraught looking girl walked inside.

“Poor lassie,” Robert exclaimed as he noticed one of his regular patrons enter his establishment. “She just can’t catch a break.”

John turned around and saw a small girl dressed in clothes that were clearly not meant for her walking towards the occupied tables.