In the little frontier town Tempestwind, located in the northern part of the kingdom of men, the chilling morning finally spread across the abandoned streets, covered with the thick blanket of glowing snow. With the first little dazzling sunrays, crawling in the darkest corners of tiny stone houses, the great lord Gelios, God of the sun, pulled sleepy citizens out of the covers, making them wake up and break Gipnose's, the powerful monarch's of sleep, mighty chains of slavery. Tempestwind was finally beginning its rapid rhythm of life.
Within couple of hours, despite the coldest weather person can ever imagine, snowy streets of this lonely town, suffering the consequences of yesterday night's blizzard, were full of people, hastening to different places, like little busy bees on their way to hive: some chucks were in a hurry to begin their tiring workday in breweries and forges, some headed to their relatives to give them a friendly squeeze and some just wanted to moist their throats with a nice portion of heart-warming elvish ale. And the one favored the idea of the last: from an old house, roof of which had been under the threat of breaking into thousands pieces of wood for many many years, a young man with a vivid teen face, the clouds of hot breath of whom were disappearing in the bright blueish sky, dressed in a warm furry jacket, dashed out of the door and rapidly, without any sense of sleepiness, common for the biggest part of Tempestwind's population, headed in the unknown direction. One may fairly admit, that few people attacked the morning as this fellow did. And that's why our hero was wordily hammered for his haste by every single person, who met him on the way. All in all, the road to the favorite place of not the most amiable man in the town didn't take very long: after a couple of minutes he was standing at the door of the most beloved (fairly, the only one) inn in this isolated town, which was called "Loriel's edge". He gasped slowly, warmed his trembling hands with the steams of hot air, coming from his lungs, and entered the inn.
Actually, in that time of the day this place was rather empty: big round oak tables, spoilt with prints of knives and forks, were standing lonely, like a divorced man, waiting for potential customers to come. Maybe, it wasn't the exact time for drinkers to come in: it was a rather early hour for everyone, especially for those, who worked all day till dawn. However, the young man didn't stay alone for a long time: in a couple of minutes, probably having heard the steps and the irritating sound of the opening wooden door, the owner appeared from the cellar, bringing some bottles of an infinite supply of heart-warming ale. When he noticed our hero heading towards the desk, the pub owner grinned cheerfully and roared like a bear, waking after long winter sleep:
—Ah! Look at that handsome fell'a over there! Well, that's the chuck I have been waiting for the whole morning! Come here, boy! What an early bird you are! Cheese! How's it going, Esrael?
—Well, it's pretty much the same, as it was, you know,—the young man grinned, having sat in the vacant chair.—Nothing new, nothing special... Man! This job is pissing me off. I'm so bushed... The only thing, which saves me is your marvelous bubbling ale! Can I have one, by the way?
—Ah! Now I see the frequent visitor out here!—the hospitable host of tavern laughed.—Just hang on — I'll get it ready in a minute.
—So...—Esrael scratched his head, thinking of the topic to speak.—Is there any news happened around?
—Ha! Man! I'm dying to tell you the story occurred! There was a hell of a fight out here yesterday!—innkeeper instantly replied, nearly spilling the jug with water, standing nearby.—Gosh! These two dumbs. You know them — Irshen and Lordge. These drunken scumbags nearly killed each other. The bruises were everywhere as if they were born with them. Luckily, everything ended up well.
—I'm not surprised they got into quarrel again,—Esrael grinned, watching the innkeeper preparing the drink. In a minute it was ready, and our young hero, having grabbed the thick wooden cup, beautified with the pretty symbol of elvish forest's tree, meanly gulped the strong drink in his gullet.—They are the hell of punchers! Filthy bastards...
—You are god damn right!—the owner laughed. At that moment, when Esrael was just going to sip the drink, both heard the door opening again, and with the chilling winter wind, covered with the thin carpet of snowflakes, a young man came in, cleaning his tough leather boots off the snow. He was a little bit plumper then Esrael, but, nevertheless, his figure was pretty muscular. He was holding the sword's handle in his hand, the end of which was beautifully carved into the form of beorn's head. Having cleaned his ruddy face off the leftovers of the snow, he smiled happily and, having greeted the inn-keeper with slightly trembling voice, sat on the chair next to his fellow mate.
—Ah! You won't believe how it's adorable to see you in such a terrible morning, Esrael!—the mate of our hero happily gasped.—You're like a brightly shining light of sunny Geliose's chariot in such a dark world! So... What's up? How are things going?
—Thanks for such a warming greeting, Gilroy,— Esrael replied, slapping his friend on a tough back.—Well, things are pretty much the same, you know. —Just hold your breath, mate!—Gilroy said impatiently.—The startling thing to know, I've begun learning magic! But without excellent success, actually... Yesterday I nearly burnt down my teacher's house, accidentally having summoned the fire spirit. Now he's trying to avoid me everywhere! I feel so embarrassed... I tried to apologize many times, but, actually, it didn't work. I'm so screwed...
—Don't worry, mate!—Esrael tried to cheer up his friend.—Shit happens.
—Oh! By the way!—Gilroy fired.— Do you know Shelva?
—E-em...—Esrael was puzzled for a second.—A girl, who does whatever comes to her mind?
—Exactly! You won't believe — she nearly got us all into the other dimension, called Astral.
—Ha! What a dumb she is!—Esrael exclaimed.—Don't try to give a dwarf's barrel to the woman, 'cause she's gonna kill herself the next second! Is that how it is said?
The second after everyone burst into laughter. But they didn't manage to fulfill the enjoyment of recent joke, because all of a sudden the entrance door creaked and, letting in the freezing wind, the young man came in. Our heroes turned around to see the newcomer. The oddest thing to see at first was the young man's appearance: he was wearing old rotten clothes, suitable only for warm sunny weather — he definitely wasn't dressed appropriately. His short black hair shone on the lights of the morning sun, crawling in the darkest edges of his dark forest on the head. He wasn't wearing any shoes or something that could have warmed his pale feet. But the most noticeable thing in his appearance was his deep ultramarine eyes, nicely looking at the three early birds in the pub. His look seemed very strange to our early comers. All in all, the stranger walked along the narrow corridor between the tables and, having nodded to Esrael and Gilroy, politely addressed to the innkeeper:
—Good morning, sir. May I have a glass of water, please?
—F-f-for sure, sir,—the owner replied, stammering a little.—Anything else? —Oh yes, of course! Could you please add... hm... let it be forty pieces of ice in the mug, alright?
In that moment Esrael and Gilroy were completely startled at the behavior of the stranger. Well, it was pretty weird to see someone drinking the jug of water full of ice after being attacked by the freezing cold blizzard outside. But they had their breath completely taken away, when stranger, having grabbed the jug, drained it completely up to the bottom in a couple of minutes, without even stopping to take a short breath. When the jug was finally finished, newcomer gasped satisfactorily, thanked the keeper, saying: "Thank you for treatment! It was marvelous! Bye!"—and, having nodded to startled comrades, dashed out of the inn, like a furious wind, having puzzled shocked friends completely.