Death Comes To All (Book 1) Read Free Page A

smell of stale beer and unwashed bodies that assailed his senses
as soon as he walked in, he believed it better to avoid brushing
against his fellow patrons as much as he could.
    Perhaps
a half dozen more tables, square instead of round but otherwise
unremarkable, were set against the walls. At the wall opposite the
door a long, wooden bar spread out, taking up half the length of the
back wall from the right corner to well passed the center of the
room. Drom kept his eyes down, avoiding eye contact with everyone, as
he walked straight to the bar and sat down in one of the
uncomfortable, backless bar stools.
    Behind
the bar stood a large canis, a cunning race with the large muzzle,
pointed ears, and long grey fur of a wolf. According to Drom's mother
the canis had once hunted and fed off of sorvinians, as well as
several of the other races, during the time before the Age of
Learning began, but that had been thousands of years ago.
    Looking
at the bartender now, who stood a good six inches taller than his own
six foot two frame, Drom felt a certain irrational fear, remembering
his mother's nightly stories. That sort of thing didn't happen
anymore though, he knew, if it ever really had. The intelligent races
no longer hunted and killed each other, at least not openly, and this
bartender was more interested in Drom's coin than in his hide.
    "I'll
take an ale and a plate of greens," Drom said to the bartender,
trying to keep his voice from wavering.
    It
would hardly do to act like a frightened rabbit in a place like this.
    "That's
two coppers for the ale, one copper more for the greens," the
canis replied. "It'll be a few minutes for the food," he
added as he set down a large mug of ale on the bar directly in front
of where Drom sat. The bartender didn't walk away, but waited
expectantly for his payment.
    Obviously
this establishment expected payment up front.
    Drom
put the copper coins on the table and turned away from the bar to
look around the room. The bartender swept up the three coins, mumbled
something about the lack of a tip, and stalked off through a door at
the end of the bar, presumably to get Drom's dinner.
    No
wonder the ale here is so cheap , he thought to himself after
taking a long pull from the mug.
    It
was room temperature at best, although the taste was not as bad as he
had expected. Glancing around, it seemed like the rest of the
customers were enjoying it well enough. To Drom, who had never seen
any race other than a few human traders and other sorvinians, it was
exactly the sort of thing he hoped to find in this port city.
    At
one of the round tables a pair of sloveckii drank and gambled over a
set of red dice, their thick reptilian tails swinging side to side
from underneath their coarse wool tunics. Behind them stood a group
of three dreks, a race of beings who could quickly and easily be
distinguished by their massive ears, both wider and longer than their
shoulders, and equally long noses that hung down passed their chests.
All three were dressed in long, flowing, blue robes made of light
silk and a red silk sash. It seemed like they were also betting on
the outcome of the dice, or perhaps on how long it would take before
the two sloveckii started brawling over the game. They were known for
their quick tempers, Drom had heard.
    At a
table not far from the dice game sat two of the elvish races, named
so by the mages, or so his mother had told him. It was said they were
given that name because they resembled tales of creatures that
existed in ancient human folklore, but since the origins of those
tales had long since disappeared no one could be certain of how true
that was. They wore loose clothing of a light green color. Drom could
not tell what it had been made of, but as the two moved the cloth
shimmered around them like wet leaves in the sunlight.
    Perhaps
the clothing was magical in nature , Drom thought.
    The
most noticeable feature on the two of them, a man and a woman, was
their hair, which flowed