Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (black authors fiction txt) 📕

“I dunno, I might have to card you; you don’t look old enough,” I joked, knowing she wouldn’t get it, but snickering anyway.

“Sam,” she pouted. “I don’t understand anything you just said, but technically I’m over a thousand years old. I think I can handle a drink.”

“Fair enough. I was just teasing you.” I handed her the mug, and she took a huge gulp of it as I had. I was about to warn her about the strength and bitterness of the booze, but she drained the glass instantly. Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

I pulled out another gold coin and motioned Ruff over. As the godsend that he was, he had witnessed Eris down the ale and brought two fresh mugs. I slid him the extra gold. He took it, although with some protest as the ale we drank wasn’t worth a whole gold coin.

“Consider it a tip. Besides, the rate we’re going, we are likely to drink your entire stock.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I am well prepared. I couldn’t show my face around here if I ever ran out of booze. My customers would have my head,” Ruff said as he walked away.

I laughed a little too loudly. The ale had already affected my mood, making me boisterous and cheerful. I was an overly affectionate drunk, and I was sure Eris would take full advantage of my inebriation. Though, from the looks of Eris, the alcohol was having an even stronger impact on her. Her face was beet red, and she stared at me hazily. Hiccupping slightly, she burst into a fit of giggles.

Eris leaned heavily into me and tried to pull me into a kiss. I didn’t put up much fight. It was sloppy, and her mouth tasted of ale, which I didn’t mind so much. But when she tried to get handsy, I put a stop to it. Not in public. The devious glint in her eyes spoke to me, promising so many things. Eris leaned over and whispered into my ear.

“Why don’t we head upstairs and get you cleaned up?”

My libido perked up at her lascivious whispering, but I still wasn’t sure about taking her up on her offer just yet. However, we did need to get some sleep, and I was about to take both of us to bed for the evening when the door to the inn slammed open.

Chapter 15 - The Hand That Holds Time In Its Palm

It was sudden enough that it sent my flight or fight reflexes screaming. My buzz faded away in seconds as four people walked in. They swaggered through the door like they owned the place, cocky and utterly full of themselves.

I calmed myself and went back to my drink, watching them out of the corner of my eye. They were adventurers—that much was clear, but I couldn’t tell anything beyond that. The one who walked in first seemed to be the leader of the merry band.

He was handsome, though there was a falseness about it, as if he were wearing a mask. He had short auburn hair, styled precisely, and muted brown eyes. His features were elegant but not feminine. Long, yet symmetrical.

He probably has women swooning over him all the time. He sported medium plate mail polished to a shine and an ostentatious silver scimitar encrusted with gemstones.

The three members that followed seemed much tamer in comparison. All tall and with good looks, but not nearly as so over the top as their leaders. All male and each wearing a slightly different style of armor, but each bore the same crest—a guild logo of some sort—a hand gripping a barbed hourglass.

The hand that holds time in its palm.

The door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the windows, and I was about to finish my drink and take the now clearly drunk Eris upstairs when the leader opened his big mouth.

“Hey, old man. How about a round for me and the boys?” he called to Ruff as they strutted over to the only other empty table available, the one coincidentally next to ours.

I barked out a laugh. It slipped out before I could stop it. Leader and his goons turned to glare at me. Their noses upturned like they thought they were better than me.

“Something I said funny to you, friend?” Leader asked, stressing the word, making it clear that he didn’t actually consider us friends. That broke my heart.

I turned to face him, Eris was now hugging me, whispering incoherently. Giving her that much alcohol probably wasn’t my best idea.

“Calling Ruff old is like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? We’re all old men these days, friend, even if we don’t look it,” I told him as I drained the last of my ale.

He chuckled at that, and his glare softened, even if it didn’t fade completely. “Yeah. Suppose you’re right about that,” he said. “Maybe that was a little rude of me.”

He glanced over his shoulder to call out to Ruff.

“Hey, Ruff, let me buy this man here a drink. In fact, next round for everyone is on me!”

A cheer rang out across the tavern. Everyone then tuned out the antics of our new arrivals—buying a round usually also bought you a considerable amount of goodwill with the patrons.

The leader brought out a silver and flicked it to Ruff, who caught it deftly while balancing a tray of ale in one hand. He set the party’s drinks down first, then walked over and handed me mine.

I thanked him and then turned to the group. “Thanks for the drink, friend.”

Leader shook his head and laughed. “Enough of that. Name’s Darren.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’ll be easy to remember then. My name’s Duran.”

Darren laughed along with me. “That will