Post by Blackwater on Jul 7, 2013 5:03:54 GMT -5
Chill and snow poured into the homely inn as the door creaked open. A momentary break in the monotonous conversation of the room amplified the foreign noises of feet thumping upon the oak slabs of the floor.
Shivering as he shook flakes of snow from his clothes, Tang sighed as the warmth of the building seeped into his bones, “Ahh…that feels so good,” he cooed.
Conversation resumed around him as interest faded and only a gray haired man in patched overalls acknowledged him from beyond a bar counter. This must be the common room, Tang surmised as he shouldered the strap of his bundled belongings. The inn had been the first he’d seen upon entering in through the small fortress island’s docks and though his journeys had taken him to many places he couldn’t deny the practical beauty of glacial formations as he entered the marine base’s bay by boat.
“Welcome to B-2 son,” the old man greeted with a kindly smile that betrayed the scornful frown of his eyes, “This here’s the strongest marine foothold we got in the Blues—much needed too, the way I figure.”
Although curious about the strange glances coming his way Tang was even more perplexed by the implicative tone of the barkeep, “What do mean?”
“I mean, this here ‘Age of the Pirates’ is dangerous times for normal folk. Best let the marines deal with lawless scoundrels that wanna cause trouble and right here’s the place to be to do just that.”
Answering with a cheery smile Tang approached the counter and plopped onto one of the empty stools in front of it. In fact all of them were empty. The common room was somber and even the lyre being strummed in the background played in subdued tones. He’d seen plenty of inns, bars, and pubs—all of them varying in robustness, but something about this quietness felt uneasy. Ignoring his gut he reached into the folds of his robe to pull out a small purse clinking with the sound of beri, “Is there any chance I could have something to eat?”
The prospect of money melted away all the suspicion and hostility in the old man’s face as he visibly relaxed. Before he could say anything else a growl twisted his insides as the audible complaint of his stomach immediately occupied the momentary pause, “Looks like yer achin’ for something fierce. Never fear me boy; we got lots to eat here. Been stockpiling since my da settled on this rock. Let’s see what we got here…”
“Salty Miso Pork Ramen?!”
“Eh? The hell is…er, no, no. None of that fancy stuff,” the old man replied over his shoulder while rummaging through the contents of a nearby cabinet.
The gleam of pickle jars and spiced peaches reflected back into the room where the soft light of the hearth made everything glow with an otherworldly luminance. Disappointed as he was about there being no ramen, Tang leaned over the counter, his mouth watering as he eyed the rows upon rows of preserved food resting just a few feet away from him. Another sharp yowl from his stomach protesting another moment without food finally broke his reserved patience; Missus Reed would’ve chastised his bad manners, but he was hungry.
“I’ll eat anything! Just throw it in front of me and I’ll pay for it!”
At this the old man stopped his rooting around and faced Tang. Tang took the chance to really ‘see’ the old man for the first time. There was an earthy feel to his face perhaps aided by the browns, greys, and greens colored cloth that mixed together to give a natural appearance to him. Those strikingly blue eyes seemed clearer than anything he’d ever seen and Tang felt himself trusting this old man as he settled back into his seat with a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward. I haven’t eaten in…a long time I guess.”
Smirking for reasons Tang couldn’t understand the old man shook his head and set back to placing several ingredients upon a nearby counter, “Don’t be sorry, lad. We don’t see many people around these parts. Must be the marines or the cold that keeps ‘em away. Normally that’s all well and good in my opinion, but it also takes the flavor outta life.”
After an eternity an assortment of jars and salted plates of meat rested on the counter before Tang. As slyly as he could manage he tried to catch a whiff of anything without giving himself away, but the old man was already setting the jars on another counter near a sink and working on cutting a few slices of peaches into a circular wooden bowl.
“Don’t really know what it is, but yer different—the good kind, mind you. Now you just wait. I’ll make ya something that really set your soul on fire!”
Shivering as he shook flakes of snow from his clothes, Tang sighed as the warmth of the building seeped into his bones, “Ahh…that feels so good,” he cooed.
Conversation resumed around him as interest faded and only a gray haired man in patched overalls acknowledged him from beyond a bar counter. This must be the common room, Tang surmised as he shouldered the strap of his bundled belongings. The inn had been the first he’d seen upon entering in through the small fortress island’s docks and though his journeys had taken him to many places he couldn’t deny the practical beauty of glacial formations as he entered the marine base’s bay by boat.
“Welcome to B-2 son,” the old man greeted with a kindly smile that betrayed the scornful frown of his eyes, “This here’s the strongest marine foothold we got in the Blues—much needed too, the way I figure.”
Although curious about the strange glances coming his way Tang was even more perplexed by the implicative tone of the barkeep, “What do mean?”
“I mean, this here ‘Age of the Pirates’ is dangerous times for normal folk. Best let the marines deal with lawless scoundrels that wanna cause trouble and right here’s the place to be to do just that.”
Answering with a cheery smile Tang approached the counter and plopped onto one of the empty stools in front of it. In fact all of them were empty. The common room was somber and even the lyre being strummed in the background played in subdued tones. He’d seen plenty of inns, bars, and pubs—all of them varying in robustness, but something about this quietness felt uneasy. Ignoring his gut he reached into the folds of his robe to pull out a small purse clinking with the sound of beri, “Is there any chance I could have something to eat?”
The prospect of money melted away all the suspicion and hostility in the old man’s face as he visibly relaxed. Before he could say anything else a growl twisted his insides as the audible complaint of his stomach immediately occupied the momentary pause, “Looks like yer achin’ for something fierce. Never fear me boy; we got lots to eat here. Been stockpiling since my da settled on this rock. Let’s see what we got here…”
“Salty Miso Pork Ramen?!”
“Eh? The hell is…er, no, no. None of that fancy stuff,” the old man replied over his shoulder while rummaging through the contents of a nearby cabinet.
The gleam of pickle jars and spiced peaches reflected back into the room where the soft light of the hearth made everything glow with an otherworldly luminance. Disappointed as he was about there being no ramen, Tang leaned over the counter, his mouth watering as he eyed the rows upon rows of preserved food resting just a few feet away from him. Another sharp yowl from his stomach protesting another moment without food finally broke his reserved patience; Missus Reed would’ve chastised his bad manners, but he was hungry.
“I’ll eat anything! Just throw it in front of me and I’ll pay for it!”
At this the old man stopped his rooting around and faced Tang. Tang took the chance to really ‘see’ the old man for the first time. There was an earthy feel to his face perhaps aided by the browns, greys, and greens colored cloth that mixed together to give a natural appearance to him. Those strikingly blue eyes seemed clearer than anything he’d ever seen and Tang felt himself trusting this old man as he settled back into his seat with a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward. I haven’t eaten in…a long time I guess.”
Smirking for reasons Tang couldn’t understand the old man shook his head and set back to placing several ingredients upon a nearby counter, “Don’t be sorry, lad. We don’t see many people around these parts. Must be the marines or the cold that keeps ‘em away. Normally that’s all well and good in my opinion, but it also takes the flavor outta life.”
After an eternity an assortment of jars and salted plates of meat rested on the counter before Tang. As slyly as he could manage he tried to catch a whiff of anything without giving himself away, but the old man was already setting the jars on another counter near a sink and working on cutting a few slices of peaches into a circular wooden bowl.
“Don’t really know what it is, but yer different—the good kind, mind you. Now you just wait. I’ll make ya something that really set your soul on fire!”