Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story, Kirill Klevanski [great reads .TXT] 📗

An oppressive and somewhat frightening silence fell on the group. Lari suddenly grabbed a corner table, throwing all the gold and silver off it, and swung it at one of the stained-glass windows. The glass didn’t so much as get scratched, but the table exploded into a shower of splinters.

Both the Stumps and the trio looked at him in horror.

“It was worth a try,” he said and shrugged.

“Don’t break things that aren’t yours!” Mary hissed, calculating just how much the marquis would charge them if he discovered that one of his mahogany tables had been destroyed. “You’ll pay for it out of your coin purse!”

“All right, all right...”

The group headed in search of the dining room. The trio, supporting one another, slipped away somewhere upstairs. However, this didn’t worry about the experienced adventurers. Mary, back when she was still green and inexperienced, led her team into the mines once, where they spent an entire week under the endless onslaught of gremlins and kobolds (the damn, vile creatures). Compared to that, this was a picnic!

Blackbeard and Tul were betting one another who’d eat more food. Lari, shielding Alice, held his scabbard in front of him and kept looking around as if he was expecting one of the decorative armors to come to life and attack them.

Ash, whistling to himself, was simply looking around, noticing even the smallest of details such as chinks in the masonry and cracks on carefully polished wood. For some reason, he felt like he was missing something, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the curse itself that was messing with his mind, or maybe it was something else.

Turning the corner, they found themselves in front of large oak doors from behind which the sounds of music, dance, laughter, and the clinking of expensive cutlery could be heard.

Ash winked at the group, lifted his staff like a lance, and swung. Just as he was about to hit the door, it swung open and the majordomo, dressed in a black doublet with a fashionable puffy collar, walked out to greet them. His eyes met Ash’s. The young mage lowered his staff with an awkward smile and waved a greeting.

The majordomo arched his right eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“How do I introduce you, dear guests?”

“The Stray Stumps,” Mary replied sternly.

The majordomo gave her an unpleasant, haughty look but didn’t protest despite Mary being a woman. The norm was that the male of the highest rank spoke, but since there was no such man in the Stumps, they let Mary do all the talking. And even if there had been, Ash doubted that Mary would let them speak instead of her out of fear that they’d say something stupid that end up with them being banished to another kingdom.

Adjusting the collar that covered almost the entire length of his chin, the majordomo turned to the hall.

“Please welcome our guests— Settle down, people!” he shouted. However, he wasn’t able to overpower the hubbub or the music emanating from the small stage next to the western wall that consisted entirely out of panoramic windows. “The Stray Stumps!”

Those who heard him clapped, but most of the guests didn’t pay attention to the newcomers, being too busy with gossip and food. Ignoring the lukewarm welcome, the group went inside and just barely managed to contain their gasps of surprise.

The huge hall was filled with guests. At long tables, laden with various viands, sat, stood, and even lay an insane amount of the most diverse audience. One could see a baron lying face first in a bowl of mash potatoes, his arm around the waist of a laughing maid flirting with a drunken old man adorned with count regalia. In the corner, the bride, her hand under the table, was whispering into the ear of the blushing groom. Fakirs and fire breathers in the center of the hall were performing their acts, surrounded by dancers wielding colorful ribbons. At each table was a jester, lifting the mood with vulgar jokes and simple tricks.

All around were people celebrating and dancing joyfully to the tunes of the minstrels who were playing as if their lives depended on it. All sorts of melodies could be heard coming from the bagpipes, lutes, flutes, and trumpets, but most common were those of the North.

 The majordomo led the group to one of the long tables and whispered something into Mary’s ear. The girl just nodded reluctantly.

“Amazing,” Lari whispered in astonishment, his wariness vanishing the moment he laid his eyes upon the succulent meat seasoned with an exquisite sauce of porcini mushrooms and sour cream.

They all stared at these culinary delights with hungry eyes and drooling mouths. Such a feast couldn’t be seen in the most expensive taverns about which, sadly, they knew about only through stories of those who had visited them. Perhaps one day they’d have enough coin to go and see if those stories were true.

“Cursed castle or not... This is good grub,” Blackbeard grumbled through his mouth full of porridge, baked potatoes with bay leaves, and juicy mutton with pickled mushrooms. He chased it all down with a goblet full of semi-sweet, red wine.

“Aye!” Lari nodded, enthusiastically chewing a duck in honey sauce, stuffed with apples.

Tul wasn’t lagging behind the two, stuffing his face with pork and beef at an incredible speed. Not bothering himself with following the etiquette, he held a stake by the bone, spraying fat and juices around. Alice and Mary did their best to behave, cutting their food into manageable pieces, but it was obvious that they would’ve plunged their teeth into the meat had they been given a chance.

Ash was watching the dancing couples as he ate, observing the ladies dressed in a variety of fancy dresses. From