Marred Observations

The first bit of the Awesome Adventures of Ficusxander the Great and Limon Jazz. There is more, but it’s weak, to be posted after I make it suck less.

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Ficusxander the Great and Limon Jazz
the beginning

The night was late, the moon just past its pinnacle in the sky. A worn warrior walked into the village of South Lake. His armor was scratched and smudged from previous battles. He wanted nothing more than a bed and roof over his head at this point. He looked around, the only places open still were a tavern, and a brothel. The thought of a warm body in his bead was a compelling one, but he was in no state to be with anyone. He decided to try the tavern and see what luck he’d have there. Walking down the dusty he was finally able to see the name of the tavern, Ducky Times. He shouldered his way into the tavern; it was quiet this time of night. The only people left were the regulars, a few old warriors who had settled when they could adventure and travel no more, or when their hearts tied them to one place.

——

The last bar open was quiet so late in the evening. No new orders were being placed, and the ovens had been out for hours at this point. The proprietor of the tavern watched the old regulars argue with one another over who killed what monster in their heyday. It was the same ongoing argument that never seemed to be finished. It usually ended for the night when Limon Jazz got tired of listening to them bicker and not order another pint or pitcher. She spun darts intermittently tossing them at a dart board on the other side of the dining area, rarely missing the center. When she wasn’t preparing meals and things for the tavern, she was hitting targets with arrows, darts or any other projectile she could.

After going through the usual business of boring new holes into the old and worn target, Limon Jazz left the bar in order to get the darts to start the game all over. As she was passing the front door they were pushed open, a cloak wearing traveler stumbled in.

“Miss,” he said addressing Limon Jazz, “might this be somewhere I can sleep for the night?” There were a few cots in the tavern, for those who passed out at their tables from the drink.

“Yeah, but this isn’t exactly a bed and breakfast sort of place. This is a tavern you’ve stumbled into. There is an inn down the road,” she said looking the man over. He was an adventurer, but also maybe a way to get out of the doldrums of running the bar. “You know what; you look like you could barely make it away to a bed, let alone down the road. Come on,” she said tugging on his arm.

“Oi, Jazz, what’s his problem, too much of the pipe?” One of the old men asked, his statement followed by wet, old people laughter.

“Oh! Jazz! Are you going to jump ‘is bones?” another asked, sending the group laughing loudly again.

The owner of the tavern looked at the old men, then rolled her eyes, “Keep it up McGinny. You and Hensley seem to forget that I make your food, and pour your beer. I also have the right to kick you out at any time. Just keep it up.” She fought the urge to curse at the old men, but sometimes, sometimes she wanted to add a little milk of magnesia to their food, but somehow she knew they’d mess it up and she’d be stuck with more of their shit.

“You, this way,” she said turning back to the traveler whose eyes were pretty much closed. He shuffled after her to a small room that had four cots in it. The room had an acid sour odor, but he was too past it to notice. “Here we are. Let me help you,” she said removing his cloak and breastplate. She apologized before removing his belt, thinking it the easiest way to get his sword to place against the wall. She sat him on the bed and thought about the boots, but decided to hell with it. She took his glasses and put them on the top of the headboard. “Sleep now.” She pushed him onto the lumpy mattress and left him, figuring introductions would be taken care of in the morning.

Leaving the traveler on his own, she returned to the main area of the tavern. “So, you old timers, are you going to keep up with the same tired arguments from ‘days of old’ or will you be getting onto your graves, I mean your homes?” She asked leaning against a pillar at the end of the bar.

“Ehh, the missus is probably sleep by now, I’ll be on my way.” Hensley said wobbly getting to his feet. “You keep off that boy now; I saw how you looked at him.”

“Hensley, you couldn’t see your prick if it was in front of your eyes. Now get,” Limon said laughing. “What about the rest of you?”McGinny and the other few old men decided that they should be leaving too, and left with only a few grumbles.

Happy that Ducky Times was finally empty, aside from the worn out traveler, Limon Jazz locked the front door and collected the mugs from the sitting area. Wanting to get out of her work clothes, Limon put the few mugs next to the wash bin and retired to her rooms above the tavern proper. Before retiring, she penned a quick note, incase the traveler woke early, but it seemed to her he’d be asleep for a day or two. The note read:

Traveler,
Welcome to Ducky Times, a small tavern in Comicopolis. It didn’t seem likely that you’d be able to make it to the inn, so I let you sleep in the Drunk Tank.

See you when you wake up,
Lemon Jazz

Satisfied with the note, the barkeep went to bed.

——

Limon Jazz woke early the next morning, early enough to prepare for lunch at least. Ducky Times never served breakfast, usually just lunch and dinner. He staff was a small group of five, but Jazz seemed to do just about everything herself, for the most part. Down the stairs and dressed for the day she checked on the traveler, he was still asleep. She left him and started her morning like always, a hearty breakfast of bacon, toasted bread and heated near beer.

Having broken her fast, Limon Jazz cleaned the mugs from the night before and her things before going out to the back yard for a little bit of archery practice before going the butcher boy delivered the meat for the day.

Her target was one foot in diameter. She stood 100meteres from it and took aim. Her long bow snapped loudly in the midmorning noise of other businesses getting ready for their days. She shot ten arrows at this three separate times before resting and moving onto her next morning activity: moving targets. This time she had a box of bean filled bags at the opposite end of a small catapult. She would stomp on one edge of the catapult launching the bags into the air shooting them at random hitting landing.

By the time she was done collecting the speared bags the butcher boy was at the fence.

“Morning Miss Jazz,” Nico said smiling at the barkeep.

“And a fine one it is, Nic. What do we have today?” Limon asked, wiping her brow as she walked to the gate. “What have we today?”

“Pheasant, deer, we got a fawn, so that will be good and tender, and some rabbit.” Nico said flicking his head because of the flies. “What would you like today?”

“I’ll take a fawn, and one of those rabbits.”Limon said untying her money pouch from her belt. “How much is that?”

“Eight pieces of gold and five silvers,” the boy replied lifting the thick skin that kept the flies from the animals. Limon nodded and counted out the coins. Nico held the two animals by ropes around their hind legs. The pair made their exchange. “Thank you, Miss.” Nico said putting the money away, “I’ll be back in the evening if you want for anything else.”

“We’ll see, boy. Later,” Limon said the fawn over her shoulder. She turned and went into the tavern to get to making lunch and to check on her guest. Leaving the animals in the kitchen she went to the drunk tank and knocked on the door. Waiting a moment, she heard nothing and opened the door to see if the traveler was still there, he was.