Porcupine Territory Tavern.
Pushing open the door, the stench of sour apple ale, mingled with the sweat of farmers and soldiers, wafted through the air amidst the sound of drunken burps.
"I'm telling the truth! The castle's mare laid an egg!" Big Beard, letting out a belch, widened his eyes, trying to prove he wasn't lying.
Another man, cradling his cup, shot him down. "Weren't you supposed to be guarding those tough slaves at the quarry? You don't even know what's going on in Maitian Village, so how would you know about the Lord's business in the castle?"
"The brick kiln has been firing so many red bricks lately that I haven't had to oversee the quarry in a long time," Big Beard said, shaking his head. He didn't seem to mind the other man's jab; he had bigger things to worry about.
Shifting in his chair to get comfortable, Big Beard said, "I was assigned to the construction crew. All I do every day is haul bricks, haul bricks, and haul bricks."
