While trekking away from the castle, Atticus thought he saw a flash of silver light, coming from the direction of the outskirts. He thought nothing much of it, however, and continued along his trek back to town.
Entering the town, he found a bunch of wenches who had all been hung for the crows to eat. Fallows merely shook his head, thinking Bogdan was behind this.
Turning to the left, he found his favorite tavern in all of town: Golden Lizard tavern. He was a regular, and the bartender knew him by name.
Before he can enter, Atticus heard a door slam from afar; unusual in this sort of city. When he turned his head, he squinted to see a young lady go inside and slam the door behind her. Atticus could only shrug as he entered the tavern, not before a young lady who looked familiar ran out, along with a shady-looking fellow.
In the tavern, every regular who was fighting stopped when they saw the friendly face of Atticus.
“‘Ey, Fallows! Its been a while! How you doing these days?”
“Atticus! How’s the drinkin’ these days?”
“*hiccup* Fa-*hiccup*lowz? How are y-*hiccup*ou doin?”
“I’ve been fine!” Atticus responded. “It has been a while, hasen’t it?”
“Yea yea, it has!” a drinker spat out. Fortunately, they were all too drunk to notice the huge axe he had on his back.
There was a man on the floor. It was ol’ Louis the Local Village Idiot. The tough-looking man was pretty stupid and tried to impress everyone whenever he was drunk (which was all the time).
Some hear rumors that he has connections to the king, and that he supplies the king with a large amount of beer and has drinking parties with him. Atticus did hear some ruckus going on in the castle lately, so it probably was true.
“‘Ey… Atticus? Oh sorry.” he got up and let out a jolly guffaw. “I must’ve had too much to drink last night, eh? Maybe I should call this the… the… Louis Sleep.” Atticus chuckled at his stupidity.
“Oh Louis, you will never change, will you?”
Atticus sat down on a chair near the bartender. “One beer, the regular way.”
Fallows knew the bartender very well. Tyler Watt, a good man, very modest in his actions. He would make a ruckus if someone is making him mad, however.
“Ah Atticus! Sure thing, bud.” responded happily Tyler, making Fallows’ drink immediately.
Atticus looked around and saw a rejected man who reminded him a froggy fellow. For some reason, he seemed rather odd.
“Gimme a second, Tyler.” commanded Atticus as he got up, and started marching towards the odd man. Each step made the tableware shake. “Who are you and what are you doing in this place?”