Late Night, Brimholt Tavern
The tavern was a buzz.
Delwyn sat across from Huldor, sleeves rolled up, a half-empty tankard in one hand and a victorious smirk plastered across her face.
The table between them was littered with empty mugs, sticky with spilled ale. The air buzzed with laughter and cheers from the gathered dwarves, who had been thoroughly entertained by the spectacle. It seemed half the town and it's guards got wind of a human trying to outdrink a dwarf. This was definitely – an unexpected distraction.
Huldor, red-faced and bleary-eyed, blinked slowly at his half-finished drink. His grip on the tankard wavered, his sturdy dwarven constitution finally betraying him. His beard half soaked in spiced dwarven ale.
Delwyn tilted her head. "What's wrong, Hull-dd-ooor?" she slurred, her words only slightly uneven. "Are youuu, ffeeling the effecttsss?"
The dwarf exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand down his wet beard. "I don't understand. You're human. You should've fallen off your chair two rounds ago!?"
Delwyn grinned, leaning dangerously close, half closing an eye. "What can I sayyy? I was trainedd forr thisss."
Vaelor, standing a few feet away, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh this is a disaster.
Huldor squinted at Delwyn, his pride battling with his common sense. "You cheated."
Delwyn gasped dramatically. "I would never!"
The dwarf glared, swaying slightly. Then, with a grunt, he shoved his mug away. "Fine. You win."
Delwyn threw her arms in the air. "That's right! I—" She paused, blinking. Then, more quietly, "Wait, what did I win again?" She looked up at Vaelor.
Vaelor sighed. "The horses, Delwyn."
She snapped her fingers. "Right. The horsessss!" She hiccupped.
Huldor, giving a grunt, waved a hand dismissively. "Take 'em. Get out of my sight before I sober up and change my mind."
Delwyn beamed, standing a little too quickly.
The room tilted.
Vaelor caught her before she could faceplant into the table.
She grinned up at him. "You're so tall."
Vaelor closed his eyes for a moment, regretting every choice that led him here.
****
The Horse Thieves
Mira watched the stable guard's eyes narrow.
He had that look. The one that meant he was about to ask questions.
She didn't have time for questions.
So she punched him in the face.
The guard stumbled backward, dazed. Before he could recover, Joren tackled him, dragging him behind the nearest pile of hay.
Talia leaned over the unconscious man. "Was that necessary?!"
Mira rubbed her knuckles. "He was going to ask questions."
Elias, already leading two horses out of the corral, snorted. "You could've lied to him."
Mira shrugged. "This was faster…"
Joren groaned as he hoisted the unconscious guard into the haystack cart. "You two argue about it later. Let's get the damn horses and go before anyone notices."
They moved quickly, untying the last few horses.
Everything was going smoothly.
Then, from across the yard, a dwarven shout rang out.
"Oi! What in the nine hells are you doing?!"
Mira swore under her breath.
Elias cursed. "I thought this was supposed to be quiet!"
"Plans change!" Mira grabbed the reins of a horse, swinging up into the saddle. "Move!"
****
Vaelor dragged Delwyn out of the tavern, her boots barely cooperating with the ground beneath her.
"Where are we going?" she giggled.
"To get on a horse and leave before you start a bar fight," Vaelor muttered.
Delwyn gasped. "A bar fight! Why didn't we do that instead? I'm good at that!"
Vaelor ignored her.
The others rushed toward them, leading the stolen horses, their faces tense.
Mira swung down from her saddle, her breath sharp. "We have a problem."
Vaelor glanced at the commotion behind them. "Let me guess. Someone noticed."
Elias jerked his thumb toward the angry dwarves now gathering at the edge of the stable. "We should probably go. Right now."
Delwyn stared at the horses. Then at Vaelor.
Then back at the horses.
Her foggy mind pieced something together.
She squinted. "Wait a second."
Mira climbed onto her stolen mount. "Del, there is no time for questions—"
Delwyn's face lit up. "Oh! Are these the horses I won?!"
Vaelor blinked a few times.
Mira and Elias stared at each other.
Talia coughed into her hand.
Joren muttered, "Sure. Let's go with that…"
Elias, adjusting his saddle, raised an eyebrow at Delwyn. "Is she drunk?"
Delwyn gasped, clutching her chest. "How dare you accuse me of such things?"
Elias tilted his head. "Because you're swaying like a ship in a storm."
Delwyn waved him off. "I won these noble horses, Elias. Honourably. With my exceptional negotiation skills." Delwyn slowly bowed.
Vaelor was unamused. "You outdrank a dwarf, Delwyn. That's not negotiation. That's poor life choices."
Elias laughed. "Poor choices… but impressive!"
Vaelor rubbed his temples. "Get on the horse, Delwyn."
She beamed. "Ooh, you're finally being nice to me."
Vaelor grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the saddle.
She yelped, almost sliding off face first, clutching at the horse's mane. "How rude!"
Vaelor swung up behind her. "Let's ride first. Then argue later."
Mira kicked her horse forward. "Let's go!"
The group tore out of the stables, hooves thundering against the dirt road.
Behind them, the angry dwarves shouted curses, but no one followed.
By the time they reached the edge of the valley, Brimholt was nothing but lantern-lit specks fading and twinkling behind them.
Delwyn leaned back against Vaelor's chest, sighing.
"Well, that went well. Wouldn't you say?
Vaelor didn't answer.
Mostly because he was too busy wondering how he had ended up as the caretaker of a drunken, sword-wielding fugitive.