A Hand-Woven Universe 112 111. Dragonborn Patrin

Sarah's nerves had calmed quite a bit after a deity was chosen. Part of her wished to rush back to the temple and get the process over with, but… there was still small anxiety in her heart. Unable to reach out to the G.o.ds of life whom she was considering betraying, she was forced to seek out another form of rea.s.surance. Something she had heard the older men in the clergy praise for its abilities.

Noone couldn't help but feel it was rather clever of Sarah to find an outsider to decide. From what he could tell, all of the G.o.ds which resonated with the oath of vengeance path were completely different from the G.o.ds of the Order of Life. Sarah no doubt had unreasonable preconceptions about those deities, and that could keep her from making a decision.

He also was happy to have gained a bit more knowledge about some of the G.o.ds of this world.

As they walked through the town, gentle lamplight flickered illuminating the empty streets.

The sound of braying horses could be heard in the distance. Noone looked through the darkness towards the sound. Under the lamplight he could see a stable with a dozen horses tied inside. A young man was going back and forth to each horse, feeding and grooming them.

"Ah." Noone thought. "Those must be real horses." Noone had only ever seen the steed summoned by Sally until now. Although he knew that horses were real creatures that lived free in the wild, Noone had never seen one outside of those summoned by Sally's miracle.

As they approached, Noone saw that he had severely overestimated the man's age. It was nothing more than a boy, maybe of twelve. From his experience and the adeptness of his movements, Noone figured that he must have done this work for a long time.

The boy nodded to them as they pa.s.sed, taking them for foreigners coming into town. She couldn't help but give Noone a second glance as he approached, but he quickly put his head down, focusing on his work.

Sarah noticed the second glance and looked at Noone curiously. After traveling with him for so long, she realized she barely cared and mostly forgot about the glowing lines which made him stick out like a torch.

Sarah suddenly paused just outside the front door of the tavern, and Noone stopped next to her. He looked down curiously, Sarah was taking deep breaths and then set her gaze firm and stepped through the door. Noone's eyes s.h.i.+ned with interest and he followed her.

The inside of the tavern smelt like spilt beer and cooked potatoes. An interesting combination of scent and sight.

It was a calm night, only a dozen people sat around drinking and eating. Everyone mostly kept to themselves. At two tables there were groups of people who obviously knew each other and chatted among themselves

The bartend sat back and watched the room, giving Sarah and Noone a nod when they entered.

Noone nodded back.

Only one person sat at the bar.

Noone looked at the back of that man's head, narrowing his eyes. It's the dragonborn I saw the other day.

It seemed the man had noticed his gaze and glanced back. A blue reptilian eye blinked before focusing on Noone. They held each other in their sight.

Sarah had never actually been in the tavern before, outside of coming by to heal the odd bout of food poisoning or bar brawl. Although she seemed confident on the way here, now that she was inside, she became aware of how little she actually knew of drinking at a tavern.

Sarah knew nothing about drinking, actually. Most clerics of the Order of Life didn't drink on account of their need to be available all times as healers. The one's who did were old enough to be able to handle their alcohol – plus they would keep a detox miracle on hand just in case.

Soon… she wouldn't need to worry about that.

"So… Noone. Where should we sit?" Before she could finish her question, Noone had begun walking towards the bar. She saw a large dragonborn sitting at the counter… it looked like Noone was planning to sit next to him.

After hesitating for a moment, she followed behind him, watching the people who sat around the room.

The dragonborn did not shy away from Noone's approach and even gestured to the stool next to him as if offering it to Noone.

They both sat down. The owner was standing on the other side of the bar already prepared with two mugs of ale. Sarah breathed out a sigh of relief, relieved she wouldn't have the embarra.s.sment of trying to order for herself. She pulled the mug close, staring into the foamy brown liquid which resided inside.

Noone watched Sarah, noticing her hesitate. He was not shy and lifted his own mug taking a large drink. Noone closed his eyes as the flavor washed through his throat. The aroma lifted his mood and he couldn't help but exhale a large sigh as he set it down.

Sarah watched Noone and quickly steeled herself, following his example she took a large drink. Luckily for her the owner recognized her as a cleric of the temple and took that into account. He had seen her more than a number of times around town through the last six years.

He was curious why a cleric of the Order would come to a bar – especially one so young - but chose to not ask any questions. Instead he prepared a lighter ale for her while he gave the taller and larger Noone a regular.

Noone was still sat savoring the bitter taste, eyes closed as he thought back to Tapestry.

"It seems that no matter where you come from," Noone sighed quietly, "alcohol will always taste like home." The ale of the surface tasted nothing like Porose's blend from Tapestry, but still… Noone couldn't help but reminisce.

Maybe it was because this was the first time he had drank since then…

Sarah looked over, barely hearing Noone's words. She wondered what he was thinking about.

The dragonborn also looked over curiously at the man. This particular dragonborn had always considered himself well traveled, and yet he had never seen brandings like the ones on Noone. The dragonborn turned in his seat, and stretched a scaled hand out to Noone.

"My name's Patrin. I believe I ran into you a few days ago while exiting the tellers." His voice was not as graveled as Noone was expecting from his looks. Apart from a vague accent making some of the syllables a bit harsher, Patrin spoke with common as good as Noone's own.

Patrin glanced down at Sarah who was more than a full head shorter than the two of them and gave her a nod as well.

Noone smiled at the dragonborn, taking the clawed hand into his own. "My name is Noone. I remember well. You're the first dragonborn I have ever seen."

Noone couldn't help but take a good look at Patrin with his divine sense. Everything about the dragonborn's clothing was humble, and he carried no weapon on him except for a modest knife under his waistband. Noone wasn't sure if this was the norm or not.

"Is that so? Although we are a bit uncommon, it is not so rare to run into a dragonborn nowadays." He smiled and Noone could see a harsh set of razor-sharp teeth. It did not look out of place against his scaly figure, but Noone couldn't help but tense up slightly.

Noone was sure of it ever since sitting next to the man. This Patrin was dangerous. Noone didn't believe Patrin had any desire to raise trouble.

"Although," Patrin continued. "Many of my people prefer to stay rooted in our homes in the north. Coming so far south for one such as I is rarer." Noone merely nodded, revealing his own meaningless smile. It seems this Patrin is a talker. He thought.
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"So, what brings you all the way to Ardgla.s.s, Patrin?" Sarah interjected, holding the ale between both hands and doing her best to look around the larger Noone. Sarah was not small, especially for a human female. But when sat next to the large Noone and the possibly larger Patrin – she looked akin to a child. Sarah had also never been so close to a dragonborn before. It was the consequence of living so far away from any large civilizations.

Noone noticed Patrin's ear flick slightly while he listened.

"Well." He glanced back, watching each person within the Tavern, even glancing at the owner himself. "With a war coming, it's the least I can do to get involved. I am an adventurer and sometimes mercenary, you see." He spoke quietly but his voice was no less heard. Everyone glanced at him, but no one said anything. Almost everyone in the tavern at this time of night were adventurers from far off in the kingdom - or the continent.

Sarah frowned but said nothing. From what she had heard, there were many uses for adventurers and especially mercenary's in war. But few of them were upstanding people. Most were in it to collect rewards while doing as little work as possible. Even going so far to loot the battlefield and selling back weapons and armor.

Sarah wasn't sure of all the details, but she a.s.sumed it was all the same no matter where you went.

Noone did not know any of this. Feeling no shame in his own ignorance, Noone had no problem asking what was on his mind.

"What kind of work is there for you here?" He asked.

Patrin looked deeply at Noone, choosing his words carefully. Could this large man seriously be asking him that? Patrin decided that Noone was being serious.

"Well. Small towns always try to form militia's and are willing to pay for training. Battles need organizers. And people skilled in combat are often paid to take out generals. Plus… I have always wanted to see an epoch tribe." Noone couldn't help but feel the easy voice was incongruous with his looks. He wanted to ask if all dragonborn talked like him but chose against it.

"And what about you? You seem like the type to have adventured a bit. You carry yourself well for battle." Patrin eyed the markings across Noone's flesh. At first, he thought they were some kind of runic magic overlaid onto his skin. But the more he observed, the more he felt like they were just a part of Noone's body. It gave him an odd feeling.

Sarah gave Noone a look, warning him to think about what he says.

Noone did not need reminding. Not only did he not completely trust this dragonborn, but he also knew other people in the room had been paying attention to him ever since he entered.

"I am from a small tribe." Noone spoke with an even tone, giving nothing away. "The rune's you see on me are a type of simple magic, it is merely a strength enhancement spell given to us from birth." Noone smiled and showed his arm off, as if to say "see? Nothing to see here."

The dragonborn raised his scaly eyebrows, obviously he didn't believe what Noone said. But he chose not to push.

"Hah, I was going to say. It looked vaguely similar to the Goliath's war paint of the eastern continent. Along with your build and size, I thought there may have been a correlation. However… They have another foot on both of us in terms of height." Patrin laughed, and it came out as a pleasant but rough full-bellied chuckle.

"You've seen a goliath?" Sarah's voice expressed her disbelief. Not just her, but the entire room became silent and began paying attention to the dragonborn. The goliaths exclusively existed on the large island continent off the east coast of the common countries. She had heard of them before, and read descriptions of what they supposedly look like. But she had never seen one, even in a drawing.

It wasn't that they were incredibly rare where they were from, it was just that the eastern continent was an incredibly odd and dangerous place. Many who go in, do not come back out alive.

"Seen one? I've been to the eastern continent! I've seen hundreds!" Patrin enjoyed seeing the young girl's shock. He wasn't much interested in romance, but what adventurer could resist spinning tales of their exploits.

It was a tradition pa.s.sed on in humor. Young adventurers grow up listening to the experience of the older, while waiting for the day they can pa.s.s on their own stories and continue the cycle.

Patrin was middle-aged now for a dragonborn, but despite still being young, he had more than a few stories to tell.

Everyone's ears perked up at his words. Even the owner couldn't help but look on expectantly. Patrin managed a large-yet-charming smile, knowing that he would have to live up to his own hype since he had brought it up.

"Let it never be said that Patrin doesn't deliver…" He chuckled.

For the next few hours, the tavern was filled with stories – both true and fabrications – of the eastern continent.