Hangover

I rolled onto my side the next morning, my head resting on a pile of cottons and burlap. I felt a splitting pain reverberating through my skull, each throb more intense than the last; my mouth felt like a desert, dry and parched, with a foul taste that I doubted any amount of water could quench. My limbs felt heavy, weighed down by an invisible ****, when I moved to sit up waves of nausea coursed through my body. I heard a cheerful whistling sound as I finally sat up in Korin’s wagon; squinting through my bloodshot eyes in an effort to avoid the **** of the sun’s glare. I see the short dwarf sitting in the drivers seat of the wagon, still resting on the roadside of the village, his legs swinging as he gnaws on a hunk of meat and whistles a merry tune between mouthfuls.

I groan, thinking back to the night before but my memories blocked by an ****-fuelled haze, letting only fragments of images and sounds pierce the veil. My self-pity, as I clutch my nauseated body, is interrupted by the growling of my stomach

Hearing the noises coming from my dishevelled shape, Korin turned his head with a joyful smile “Ah, you’re awake!” he exclaims, apparently not feeling the same agony from last nights revelry as me. “Well, ya should probably get ready for the journey. I don’t abide dawdling, no I don’t” he declares and throws something wrapped in a thin cloth towards me. I unfurl the cloth to see a particularly large chunk of salted pork, “Ya seemed pretty excited to buy that last night with that purse of yours” he adds

Did I? I think as I try to cast my memory back, vaguely recalling a plump woman selling me something. I try to say something but, feeling the coarseness of my mouth struggle, to form the words. I reach for a waterskin, taking a sniff of it before washing the liquid down my throat.

“Hope ya don’t mind, I helped myself to some of it. I swear, we may be short, but we have bigger stomachs than you lot” he tells me, licking his fingers as he finishes the meat he was chewing

I nod and take a small bite myself, struggling to keep it down for a moment. “No…” I croak and take another gulp of water, “No, I suppose it’s the least I can do for you” I say with a smile; deciding I can keep a bit more down, I start to gorge myself on the pork.

Korin laughs to himself as he adjusts himself in his seat “Ay, I suppose you’re right enough there. Alynthir is about a week out on wagon” he says as he scratches his beard. He lets out a roaring burp, the smell of the spirits hitting me in the face. My face twists at the stench of my agony and I feel a rising in my stomach as something begins to rise to the surface.

Seeing my hand covering my mouth, Korin laughs again. He assaults me with the alcoholic stench of his breath, “You’re a right weak one, ain’t ya” he chuckles as I come to the decision that I’m not going to throw up. “Don’t worry lad, after a week with me you’ll be drinking like you were born in the mines” he adds with a menacing grin. “I picked up some rum for tonight”

I groan as I realise that he is going to have me drinking like this every night, Goddesses, what great sin did I commit to deserve this punishment. “I really don’t think I ca-“ I’m cut off by a wooden bang as Korin jumps down from his seat to the belly of the wagon. He shakes his head at me as he walks over to the end and raises a hinged panel that looks like it is meant to stop things from falling out.

“No, no, no, no” he mutters, shaking his head as he goes over the contents of the wagon and glances at me. “We have an agreement, remember Aucus. I will deliver you to Alynthir and you will drink with me. I’m not really sure that you will make it on foot at this date” he says, rolling a barrel towards me. “But in all my forty years, I haven’t been a cruel man. So here’s some water and I’ll let you sleep some more whilst I do all the hard work” he grins at me, slapping his sides as he seats himself back at the helm of the carriage.

I resign myself to this fate and lay my head back down on the soft materials after having another gulp of the water.

The week riding with Korin passed by in a drunken haze of revelry and regret. Each night we would halt the wagon and Korin would unearth a skin, a cask, or a whole barrel of something from his wagon. We would drink together and talk of our pasts and what we will do as adventurers, Korin seemed to particularly enjoy recounting the story of how he had escaped the mountains to become an adventurer.

It turned out that with dwarves younger than a hundred years being forbidden to leave the mountain passes, he had to become creative. He had arranged for a cannon to be constructed by a friend of his, with some struggle he had managed to move it to the mountain peaks where he faced it outwards. Whilst being no doubt somewhat crazy, Korin had admitted that he knew firing himself from the cannon would kill him. To remedy this “small problem”, as he put it, he had stolen a barrel from the mines in which he worked. With some of the rocks that were mined being of an explosive nature if handled incorrectly, the dwarves used barrels that were enchanted to make the contents impervious to any outside **** placed onto the barrel. This meant that if a barrel was knocked over by mistake, then the contents would not explode and destroy the mines. Korin had entered the barrel and had it loaded into the cannon which was then fired in the direction of Alynthir.

I did not know how true this story was or if Korin was truly that insane, but with each new retelling of the tale I couldn’t help but become enraptured in his excitement. I told him tales of Blue-Rock and he listened carefully, though I doubted the story of finding a buried sword in the woods was as exciting as any of Korin’s. He did, however, seem interested by my encounter with the ogre.

A few days into our travels we met two others who were also journeying to Alynthir for the test of divinities. Rayall was a half-elf, he had delicate features as is common amongst the elven species, his eyes a shining blue, and long locks of silver blonde hair, being an elf I couldn’t put an age to him though he appeared to be around the same age as Sara. Sara, it turned out, was a year younger than me with a pretty face, her travelling clothes fitting tightly to her body revealed an athletic figure with a small chest and a defined rump. Her hair was a golden blonde though it had become dirtied and unkempt from travel and had green eyes that couldn’t help but remind me of Elsie when I looked into them.

The two unusual companions had found each other in a town they had passed through, Rayall was being shaken down by a particularly vindictive merchant who was trying to charge him the price of a fine pair of boots for a simple meal. Sara had came to his aid and found him someone that wouldn’t try to cheat him. From there on, they had travelled together, the apparent obliviousness of Rayall to human customs being offset by Sara’s worldly experience.

Rayall had made the decision to join Korin in his nightly activity of drinking, I had attempted to caution him against the decision though it seemed to have been unwarranted worry the following morning. Rayall seemed to have the same natural tolerance to human **** as Korin and would even seem sober by the end of his night. Rayall was friendly and eager to get to know new people, having been raised in a small village on the border between the human kingdom and the Elven realm he had not had many opportunities to converse with others that were not his people. Sara was the opposite of Rayall in this aspect, she seemed to be quiet and almost shy though not impolite.

Whilst Rayall drank with Korin, I finally get a reprieve from our drunken affair and spent the time with Sara. She did not seem keen to join in the drinking and we got to know each other somewhat. After breaking through her quiet countenance, Sara still seemed **** to talk of her past, only mentioning that her mother had helped her to leave her village to take the test. However, she was more eager to talk of her future, she believed that she would become a healer after the test. She had shown some ability with healing in her village and was eager to learn more and expand her powers, wishing to be able to help people and her party when she eventually found one.

For the three days that the four of us travelled together, things stayed much the same. Korin sat in the wagons driving seat whilst Rayall, Sara, and I sat in the main body talking or recovering from a hangover after I relented and joined Korin once more. We did not encounter any more of Motten’s guards on the journey, though if we had I doubted that one of them could overcome the four of us, and both Rayall and Sara seemed to be willing to protect me should danger arise.

At last, on the final day of our journey to Alynthir, the wagon rises over a hill and in the distance, we can see the shimmering spectacle of the city. Rising towers puncture the landscape, the pearlescent white of the buildings reflecting the light of the sun with pillars of smoke rising throughout the vast expanse. A towering circular wall encompasses the area of the capital, from this distance it seems to be perfectly round without a single edge marring it.

I let out a gasp at the sight, never seeing such a large cluster of humanity in one place, every time I look at it, I find another spectacular sight to focus my gaze on. I hear a similar gasp from Sara as we all crowd to the front of the carriage to get a view of our destination

“It’s… It’s… Beautiful” I hear Sara say, her shoulder pressed against mine as we crowd

“Hmm, some of those towers remind me of the elven architecture I’ve seen. Do you think any elves helped build them?” Rayall voices his thoughts to the reply of no one

Korin puts it best as he coughs up one of the liquids in his mouth, “Fuck me, that’s big”