Spellfyre: The Healer

I frowned as I walked over to clear one of the table of breakfast dishes as two patrons left. The tavern slowly emptying as the patrons went on there way to who knows where. And yet I was stuck here. I glanced up at the group of freelance adventurers at the nearby table as they made a ruckus and envied them. They would leave and I would be stuck here in this tavern in this small town.

My mothers family, who took me in after she passed, had worked as inn keepers here for three generations now when my grandfather had built the tavern and named it Tavern of the Riverside Road though most locals just called it the Riverside Tavern as the old sign was now worn and faded and few could read it anyways. They just saw the carved mug of ale and knew it was a tavern. The tavern was older then the town of Oakbridge that it now rested in or the bridge for which the town was named even. My uncle who ran the place would tell me tales of people crossing by rope ferries once upon a time though I could not imagine there not being a bridge as it had always been there as long as I was alive. The only reason we did half the business we did was because the bridge was the only way to cross the massive river for leagues once the snows melted and the spring rains came. One would have to go miles south to Laketon to cross at the city there so our small town was the fastest way to get from the east to the west.

Sadly I would see little outside of this town as had been the way since my grandfather built this place. I didn't have any real skills to make it in the outside world. I didn't have my oldest cousin Gareth's strength who was currently wiping down the bar top as he talked to his friend Tomas the Carpenter. Gareth was a veteran war hero who had been wounded in the orc war after taking an arrow in the knee. A little quit for a bartender as he was the strong silent type but everyone respected him and he had a reputation as a brawler if anyone ever got out of line. One day inherit the tavern meaning I would work for him one day if I was lucky.

I sure didn't have my his sister Gabrielle's natural charisma as she wound her way through the tavern refilling drinks and talking to patrons with a smile on her face. Gabrielle could have been easily married by now if she wanted but she felt a duty to the tavern and her family.

I definitely didn't have their youngest brother Jon's skill with a bow or his carefree charm as he was already on his way out the door. He made his living as a hunter for the tavern and the local butcher when he killed more then we need. Jon was known for his skill with the ladies as well and the only reason he probably still lived at the tavern was all the women passing through who didn't know his reputation as a ladies man. That and he wanted to save all the coin he could like our uncle had before he had built his down the road at the crossroads on the other side of town.

The only thing I had was my brains but in a small town in the middle of nowhere it wasn't the best skill to have. I could read and write which few in my village could do and made money from time to time reading and writing letters for people. I was also good with numbers so I generally barter things in my favor since most people were not well educated in these parts. Sadly intelligence didn't mean skills with magic. I had been tested by a passing wizard that let me hold a crystal and told me to try and make it glow which I did though faintly. He said I had some magical potential but I while I possibly could learn novice level magic I would be lucky to every practice apprentice level magic or to find a mage even willing to train me in the arcane I could never become a master no matter how hard I tried as I did not have the power.

I glanced up at the adventurers as I watched the ranger yawn and stretched at their table. Her back arching and her bosom thrusting outward in a seductive manner in her tight leather outfit. Her red hair falling down her back. She was beautiful but sadly she would never see me as anything other then some tavern boy. They would be leaving after breakfast to go hunt down some bandits in the area that had been raiding the fiefdom of Shirestone which we lived on the edge of and I would be stuck here watching her walk away in that tight leather outfit probably never to see her again.

“You could go talk to her?” A voice said behind me making me jump as I turned to see my cousin Gabrielle as holding a picture.

“What?” I frowned trying to play dumb.

“The ranger. You look like you are about ready to write her a love letter.” Gabby teased as she whispered over my shoulder. Me and Gabby had always been close and she treated me like a little brother and not an orphaned cousin.

“No way.” I shook my head and went back to clearing the table and putting the bowls onto the wood tray as I stacked them.

“Oh the Barbarian then. You are braver then I thought.” Gabby looked to the other female member of their party. A barbarian woman who threw her head back and downed a mug of ale. Some of the drink spilling from her lips and dripping onto her bosom. The drops meandering there way down between her cleavage slowly. She slammed the mug down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. While beautiful she was not lady like in the least.

“She would break me.” I laughed and looked back at Gabrielle.

“Least you would die happy.” Gabby gave me a little bump with her hip as she laughed.

“Even Jon is not that crazy.” I shook my head at her. Not that I disagreed with her as I was sure I would enjoy a night with the wild woman even if it was my last.

I headed into the kitchen with the tray stealing one last glance at their table before walking through the open doorway into the back where I saw my aunt. Well aunt-in-law technically. She had been born across the river in duchy as the daughter of a miller but had married my uncle after countless trips to her meal for grain. He always said he had worn her down slowly after years of asking and even now I could still see why he had put so much work into it and where my cousin got her looks and friendly demeanor. She was busily raking food into a bucket from the bowls and then dunking the bowls into a wood wash basin. My aunt was quit content in the kitchen cooking for the countless guest who enjoyed her cooking.

“Here you go. This is almost the last of them.” I said setting the tray down and raking the bowls contents into the slop bucket.

“Thank you dear.” She smiled as she began to wash the bowl she had just scrapped off. “Can you go ahead and start on the rooms by carrying up straw and refilling the beds for us ladies?”