At dusk, in a rural tavern on the other side of the world, the air was as usual filled with the stench of sweat. Farmers and mercenaries who had been busy all day were here to relieve their fatigue. However, standing in the middle of the tavern today was not the usual heavily made-up fat dance girl, but a young minstrel who had turned his white robe into a gray one.
"Hey, minstrel! Tell us the story of King Avalon's rise from rags to riches!"
Pinokkin took a sip of the cheap ale provided by the stingy innkeeper, cleared his throat, and lowered his voice mysteriously.
"You see, the story of our great King Avalon has been glorified... His true identity was not that of a wanderer, but a beggar in the Kingdom of Rodan. It was passed down to me by my grandfather..."
"King Avalon's three years of wandering were actually begging, getting a single black bread each time... My ancestors were from Rodan, simple farmers. They became the king..."
"Many people can't believe that King Avalon was once a beggar, but think about it. How could a penniless man with no special skills manage to beg for three years?"
"In those chaotic times, food was more precious than gold! Would we just give him food for nothing? He must have given something in return, right? The only business without capital in this world is begging..." ! ?"
"Have you never heard of the bold words of King Avalon: Why should a man beg and plead when he can trade for eight hundred cities and states?"
The tavern burst into a loud roar of laughter.
Everyone was laughing so hard that they were bending over and slapping the rickety wooden table, and the atmosphere in the tavern suddenly became intense.
As is well known, the history of the world is like a huge act of begging. Official history may not be entirely accurate, but unofficial history is definitely wild enough.The farmers who toiled in the muddy fields had always been indifferent to the heroic tales of the greats, which seemed too distant for them. They preferred wild stories, the wilder the better, as they could resonate with their own humble experiences.
[Your speech was well-received by the audience]
[+10 Bard Experience * 30 listeners]
[Bard Level Up to LV.10]
[Charisma LV.10: +10]
[Title: Wild Storyteller]
Pinokim was quite satisfied with the atmosphere today. He gracefully took off his hat and extended it towards the audience, hoping to receive some tips. However, today, he encountered the most stingy village since his travels across the continent. The few copper coins thrown his way could be counted on one hand.
Even the usually generous mercenaries were not very generous today.
Pinokim sighed with regret, "I had prepared a naughty story about the Elf Queen... but unfortunately, the coins in my hat aren't enough for me to buy a glass of whisky to soothe my throat after I finish."
The atmosphere in the tavern lifted again. The mercenaries opened their wallets generously, and the farmers dug out their dirty copper coins from the soles of their shoes and threw them at Pinokim.
"Cough, cough. Now, about the Elf Queen, Eluna... her fragrance was more intoxicating than flowers, her skin as white as milk, and her... magnificent... "
Pinokim knew that these uneducated farmers wouldn't understand flowery language, so he used the crudest metaphors, which made them feel as if they were experiencing it themselves. His hands gestured wildly in front of him, drawing whistles from the villagers. Everyone took a deep breath, as if they were smelling not the stench of months without a bath, but the fragrance of the Elf Queen.
Eluna, the Elf Queen, was a hero who resisted the demonic invasion of the continent a thousand years ago. Her wisdomFearless and Unafraid saved countless lives.
But the story that spread the most widely on the continent was not any of the battles she commanded, but the countless versions of the "Little Yellow Cake" that bards composed, and Eluna almost became the most notorious slut on the continent.
Humans never appreciate heroes. They like to take the moral flaws they catch wind of about heroes and turn them into wild tales, then talk about them with relish.
After a two-hour speech, Pinokim finally ended his exhausting day, holding a money bag that was neither too heavy nor too light, and walked to the bar counter. He casually threw it to the owner and said, "Change it into silver coins. Keep the change to buy me a glass of whiskey to clear my throat."
The owner, whose face was as black as coal, wiped the money bag and laid out the coins on the table one by one. He picked up each copper coin and carefully counted them under the light. It took him several minutes before he wiped the coins off the table and handed Pinokim three silver coins. "Not enough for a whiskey. You'll have to have a glass of ale."
"Damn it! I just weighed it. There are at least 45 copper coins in the bag! Ten copper coins for one silver coin. You should give me four silver coins and a glass of undiluted whiskey!" Pinokim angrily slapped the table.
"That's right, there are 45 copper coins, but 10 of them are worn out. They can only be counted as five." The innkeeper remained calm as he poured a glass of ale.
"That still leaves 40!" Pinokim pounded the counter, refusing to back down.
"On our lord's land, there's a 1 copper coin entertainment tax, a 1 copper coin tax for entering the territory without permission, and a 4 copper coin personal income tax. I don't collect it; it goes to the tax collector of the territory. If you don't pay, they'll fine me." The innkeeper's face remained dark as he spoke.
"Fine, you take 6. There should still be 34 left! You still owe me 3!" Pinokim didn't even need to count on his fingers.
"Table and chair wear and tear fee, 1 copper coin. Air pollution fee, 1 copper coin. Venue rental fee, 1 copper coin. A glass of ale, 1 copper coin. That's 30 copper coins in total, which is exactly 3 silver coins."Obviously, the tavern owner is not a vegetarian either. In this society where everyone is illiterate, he calculates accounts so accurately. You're ruthless, don't expect me to come to this village again! "Pinocchio fiercely grabbed the ale glass on the bar. But unexpectedly, the tavern owner pressed one hand firmly on the rim of the glass and said, "You still owe me a copper." "What kind of copper? I bought this glass of wine with my money!" Pinocchio widened his eyes. Bar damage fee, one copper coin. "The tavern owner glanced at the bar that Pinocchio had just smashed with his hand. Pinocchio's tone suddenly softened: "Please, boss, I helped you earn at least one extra gold coin today. Don't be so stingy..." [Persuading LV.5, activate the skill!]! ][Skill judgment in progress...] [Pinocchio: Basic lobbying 5 points+15 points charm, totaling 20 points] [Tavern owner: 30 points of perseverance] [Lobbying LV.5, judgment failed] "Unless you stay to sell the ditch, I can give you a free cup." The tavern owner stared at Pinocchio's pale face and tilted his neck. Keep it to pay tribute to your mother! "Pinocchio raised his middle finger and turned away from the damn tavern. My mom doesn't deserve to drink this glass of wine, "the tavern owner said expressionlessly as he poured the ale back into the barrel. Pinocchio had just walked out of the tavern and looked up at the pitch black night sky, the icy wilderness: 'Oh no, it's a night of killing on a dark moon and strong winds... I should have stayed overnight at the tavern.' 'No, I will never give that boss a copper again!' Pinocchio's heart crossed, and he crawled into the haystack next to the pigsty to sleep!