The Amber Sword

There is a hostel called 'Trout in the Woods' in the centre of Schafflund Town, the owner of which is only a flat middle-aged person, but the wheat wine sold here tastes great and attracts a lot of old customers.

Most of these visitors are local workers who work six days a week and can relax back in town on Sundays; workers who come down from the mine are sweaty and without exception have a rude, loud voice, who do not care about the views of others and judge a maid's body in crowds.

If a bar woman smiled and cast a glance at them, it would surely cause a whine.

But several young people were drinking at the corner of the bar, looking at them obliquely, whispering about their affairs. Most of them are parents in the mines, and of course they are. But the anxiety and agitation characteristic of young people discourage these young men from spending their entire lives here, negotiating with each other, ready to leave here and go out into the outside world.

It's just that they've been born in this town, far away, in the nearby woods, speculating about the outside world by imagination and the words of the adventurer outside.

Several people discussed it for a while and had just agreed on a time, but heard a cold hum coming from their noses. Young people turned back slightly, wanting to see an elderly dwarf sitting at another table not far from here.

As most fantastic stories describe - the old dwarf has a prominent big nose, a long beard, dragged beneath his waist, braided and tied to an iron ring - his arms and legs are very thick and strong. But the skin is not the healthy brown red of the local hillbilly dwarves, but a light grey.

When the young man saw the dwarf, his face changed in the same way. The old man, Oldham, didn't know where he was coming from, but he was said to be capable of mixing the work of a steward with that of the officer here.

But this guy has a bad temper, a stubborn, stubborn temper, and never gives a good face; and his own situation is not very satisfactory - often someone sees this old dwarf drinking muffled wine - although dwarves like to drink, they rarely drink muffled wine.

Even less like this old guy, his temper gets worse after drinking, he's got a face on his plate, and nobody cares.

And the guy was extremely proud, and nobody looked down on him, and someone had heard him say bad things about the registrar. But when the old dwarf starts his temper, even the king dares to curse him, so this doesn't attract attention.

The young man saw him and couldn't help crying out loud. Some of them were a little clever, and hurried to say, "Old Master Odom, you are here...”

The old dwarf glanced at these young people and said, "What, are you in the way? ”

“No, no,” the quick responder said immediately: "How could that be, we want to buy you a drink, but...”

The old dwarf snorted out of his nostrils: "Who cares about your shit, but let me remind you, young man, the world out there is not that simple, so watch your head and bleed back. ”

Several young people immediately responded with amnesty, and pushed to pay the bill and quickly left the front door.

When they left, they couldn't help but cry bad luck. How could they meet this old guy? Luckily, the old man and most people in town didn't have a good relationship. Otherwise, they went to tell their parents that a few people in the room were probably going to have to eat a hard meal.

The old dwarf watched the young man go out and shook his head, and the outside world was so busy, but the young man was bloodthirsty that he didn't care; the old dwarf just wanted to bow his head and drink a man's wine, but shook his head - he saw three men and four women walking in outside the hostel.

In fact, when Brando pushed the door in, everyone in the lobby was in front of him.

Beautiful chick--

The beauty of this young lady, who is an authentic Silver Elf royal family, is self-evident, although her body has not yet grown and some girls have a tender and weak temperament, yet it attracts more attention.

Roman and Sy were equally indulgent, and the merchant lady always had a special temperament that made people want to look at her more than once, and the dark paint in the middle played a crucial role.

Besides, she put her hands on her cowhide bag in front of her chest, and the look of Dongzhang Xiwang was really impressive.

But Sy's amber eyes, like the flame of a bear, were more attractive, and when the girl entered the bar, her eyebrows couldn't bear to wrinkle slightly, her eyebrows picked up, and she had a dangerous smell of not being close to her.

Thunder's gun was torn apart and tied to her back in three cuts, and the teenage girl raised her head slightly, letting the long red ponytail sag backwards - she looked around and gauged it with a vigilant divine colour.

But instead of causing the Guests to make loud noise, it was Utah, who looked less remarkable among several people. As soon as the female mercenary leader entered the lobby, he let everyone whistle unconsciously, and several deliberate eyes fell on the bosom of the leader.

Utah didn't mind, just snorted coldly.

Brando couldn't bear to smile.

He used to see these scenes in some fantastical stories - and it could even be said that hotels of all kinds are one of the most important places in that kind of story: adventurers whispering about their plans, rude guests chatting and drinking, and noises of laughter with bar girls.

If there was a poet, it would be perfect.

With this impractical thought, Brando turned around and the owner of the bar had greeted him; he was just a flawless middle-aged man, but looking at him, he had seen the secondary relationship from a few people.

When men who decide to think in the lower half look at a few women, the middle-aged pay more attention to the details of the temperament that comes out of several people in Brando - although the two angel waiters who also tend behind the young are eyebrows and pictures, the middle-aged do not look more at them than they do.

As the owner of the place where this person travels, he has long practiced a different way of looking at people from the average person.

The confidence of modern people, especially Brando, is very similar to that of the descendants of the aristocracy of this era, who grew up with a distinguished family and a good education, so that the middle-aged distinguish this young man from the rest at a glance.

“It's a nobleman, brother!” The owner of the hotel thought so, with a slight smile on his face, and unconsciously complimented him: “What can I do for you? ”

Brando raised his head and saw a plank with the type of wine sold hanging in front of the rack; he referred to one of the most expensive orders on it - of course Brando wasn't interested in it, he was just putting it up.

Apart from Metisa, several ladies asked for a fruit wine, slightly sweet and sour. Ghosts don't need to eat, the Fairy Princess just stands behind you silently, Sy notices her and whispers, “Can't you eat? ”

Metisa shook her head, “It's just unnecessary. ”

“Try that,” the young girl pulled a long ponytail in the back of her head: “If you come here and don't order anything, it'll look a little too prominent. ”

“No,” Roman's voice plugged in, and she said earnestly, "Real ladies don't eat in such a messy place -! ”

Seeing the merchant lady say that, but still satisfied to hold a glass of fruit wine in her hands, Sy couldn't help but glance at her: “Aren't you drinking too?” She asked impatiently.

“I'm not a lady.” Roman opened his eyes and answered naturally.

Metissa listened to the conversation between the two men, just smiling hard.

As for the two angel attendants, they simply ignored the girl-crazy conversation and followed Brando without expression. This led the middle-aged man to identify who was his girlfriend and who was his servant, and he looked at these people and asked them with the acumen characteristic of the businessman:

“How many of you are from outside? ”

Cee stopped and raised her eyebrows vigilantly.

Brando knew there was nothing to hide about this, like a guy like that, though not a groundsnake. But there were many people who might have met all the locals in town, deliberately hiding their doubts, and he simply nodded:

“Touch your luck. ”

Brando didn't tell the truth either.

The middle-aged thought it might be a noble offspring who had left home to play - not uncommon in Eruin, but usually had descendants of a certain aristocracy.

“It means you're going to the woods. Do you need a guide?” He thought about it, asked.

“The service is very thoughtful," Brando thought of the most expensive wine he had, a place like this where news was circulating, and the owner often also sold it. However, most of this information relies on hearsay, ignorance of authenticity and the need to dismiss useless information on its own, the only advantage being that the price is also included in the consumption of alcohol.

I'm not charging you an extra--

Brando ordered the most expensive wine here and middle-aged people naturally looked very enthusiastic.

But Brando shook his head: “I never needed a guide, but I wanted to ask what was going on in the woods. ”

“It's not dangerous around town, but deep into the woods you'll encounter beasts and possibly monsters.” The middle-aged man replied, "Besides, there is a mining area to the north, and walking that way might run into a patrol of the Mine Guard, which would be bad if they were caught by people who were deemed to be deliberate. ”

Fearing that the young man might be as thick as the heavens and the earth, he hastily added: “Though this is Tonigal territory, the owner of the mine is actually Lord Denel. ”

Brando, oh, yeah.

He sipped a sip of wine down his head and the spicy taste went straight from his tongue into his throat, then choked back into his nostrils. The young man almost coughed violently - Brando frowned and couldn't drink himself, and now it doesn't seem wise to pretend like this.

He finally pressed down the taste in his mouth. He had decided not to touch this thing at all, and he raised his head and knocked sideways and asked: “In that case, should I avoid those places? ”

“Just don't go north,” the innkeeper replied. “If you don't go north, there's no trouble. ”

“How can you find the legendary open-air silver mine if you don't go north to the silver vein?” Brando deliberately frowned hard.

The middle-aged man looked at him and thought it was for him.

(PS. Lately, another doomsday cult sprayer has been circulating in the book district.) (To be continued, please go to www.qidian.com for more chapters, support the author, and support authentic reading!)