Chapter 2: Grog half empty

'Finally Here!'

Having exhausted all the water he had on him and unable to find a place to fill the empty tube he now posesssed, Raze was starting to worry that Murk had been wrong about the closest town, realising that it may not have good idea to believe Murk's words on such an important topic.

But here he was.

It wasnt exactly a picturesque town, nor a pleasant looking place to live.

That was abundantly clear from just a glance at the "guards" who were supposed to watch the gates, seemingly more interested in extorting bribes from wealthy looking drifters than maintaining any semblance of security.

Situated in a particularly barren region, nothing, and no-one of note was here. It was a glorified slum barely able to support itself. It's one lifeline was a nearby oasis, that had eventually been tilled into a few small irrigation channels, allowing the locals to grow some staple crops in a sufficient amount.

It was effectively a free city.

Getting past the guards was as easy as dropping some of the Grits he had in their hands, and ignoring their looks at the new shirt he "found".

'What a fuckin' shithole.'

Raze walked down the "main road" a bunch of cracked bricks slowly being overtaken by sand. Buildings in obvious disrepair lining the street.

Shops buying and selling all manner of used gear and dodgy supplies.

Without even having to focus, Raze could hear the scattered conversations, usually arguments being had all down the street.

"TWO HUNDRED GRITS?! Are you fucking crazy? Do i look stupid?! Look! Damn thing has rust and shit all over it, and your telling me that it's worth two-fucking-hundred?!"

"Either take it, or leave it. Two hundred, and not one lower. I don't barter, especially with the likes of you."

"Fine... Prick."

'What a lovely place this is...'

Deciding to manage securing some supplies and extra money tommorow, Raze decided to start looking for an inn, or at least place to stay.

It took a while before he eventually found one, the late afternoon now teetering on the brink of evening.

Seemingly advertised as both a bar and a place to sleep, it was a generic combo, but considering the prosperity of this town, he was pleasantly suprised to see an actual place to sleep.

'I hope there's no scorpions in my room this time...'

Walking inside, Raze did not encounter the usual sights and sounds of an inn, no drunken brawls, no doomsayers or swindlers ranting incoherently, just a few scattered patrons sitting alone, quietly drinking or eating.

He heard a languid voice:

"Welcome to the Rusty Nail, bed and board at prices you can afford."

Lacking energy, the speaker spoke with a practiced, but unmotivated tone, as if he didnt even care if Raze bought a room or not.

Silently recalling how much money he has left, he approached the counter, a stained hunk of scrap wood patched over with veneers and nails.

"A room, one night, send someone with some grub. Grog too."

Looking Raze up and down with a strange smile, the innkeep responded in a lazy voice.

"50 Grits."

Raze thought he was hearing things for a moment.

His eyelid twitched slightly.

'Fifty fucking Grits! Half of what i got left! Filthy robber. Prices I can afford my ass!'

"C'mon couldn't you drop the price for me? Just a little bit?"

Saying nothing, the innkeeper just stared at him.

Grumbling, Raze pulled out the money and slammed it on the counter.

"This grog better be damn good."

Giving him back some of the extra coins he slammed, the innkeeper spoke with a more energetic voice:

"Should be made with the Grayseed grown by the oasis, so i can guarantee that it's strong, just what a traveller needs right? Anyway, room's down that corridor, first one on the left."

"Yeah."

Raze spun on his feet and walked to his room. But just before he was about to enter the corridor to the rooms, he stopped.

"How did you know I was a traveller?"

His smirk fading, the innkeeper downed the rest of his grog.

"How the fuck do ya think? not exactly the best place to spend the night is it now? 'sides, its not like anyone living here of all places have their pockets overflowing with Grits now do they?"

At a tacit admission of extortionate pricing, Raze choked back a curse, instead deciding to go to his room to rest.

Juddering with a shrill creak, the half-rotted door swung open with a bit of force.

'Home sweet ho- FUCK!'

He wasnt expecting much.

But this was bad. 

There was no bed, just a thin ragged blanket placed on bumpy wooden floorboards.

'I paid 50 grits for this shit? Not even a fucking lock! At least it's clean, and free of scorpions. Fucking hell...'

Sitting down on the wooden floorboards, Raze's thoughts began to move.

'I've got 'bout fifty grits left, need to buy some proper medical stuff, some food and water. Judging by the prices from this place, I should have enough, but i'll be dead broke after. Need to earn more money, but how?'

He considered his options.

'Could i steal from one of the other people here? Don't think it'd work, if they're travellers like me, then they're gonna be on guard. Guess i'll have to go do-'

A sharp rapping at the door sound broke his thoughts.

"Got ya food and grog 'ere"

'That was quick.'

"Leave it outside."

Waiting until he could hear the footsteps heading away from his door, Raze went and collected his meal.

A flat-ish rock used as a plate, with a few decent-sized mounds of small grey beads spread out on them, slightly steaming and warm to the touch, and a reddish-brown sewn skin, slightly heavy with what Raze hoped was alcohol.

'Ahh, boiled Grayseed and Grayseed grog. Truly fit for a lord. what more could a man like me ask for eh?'

Quickly scarfing down his food, Raze turned to the animal skin, finally feeling like his desert trek had been worth it.

'Shame it comes in a skin, but i guess there's not gonna be many trees anywhere 'cept the oasis.'

Untying the sinewy cord wrapped around the neck of the skin he took a small drink, before removing the strips of cloth clinging to his scarred body, pouring small amounts of the watered-down liquor into the cuts.

Wincing in pain, he brought the still hefty skin to his lips, chugging the drink, not stopping to savour the drink or take a breath of air.

Within a few moments the skin was drained to half its volume, where he set it down again.

'Tastes awful, but this shit is strong! Might have to get more when i have some money in my pocket.'

Deciding to save the rest of the grog for the road, Raze pulled himself underneath the blanket, the evening suns poking through the thin cracks in the wall.

'Fuck, its gonna be cold t'night, but at least most of the older lookin cracks have been patched with somethin' but even still...'

Raze tried his best to make himself comfortable, tossing and turning.

He eventually decided to keep whirring his mind until the alcohol kicked in and his brain could turn off. 

Turning his thoughts to his future plans, Raze went back to the thoughts of how he was going to earn some money.

'Not stupid enough to borrow from fucking vultures again, and I doubt anyone here even has that kinda cash. Guess I'll either have to find some legit work, or i'll have to find a good mark. Fuck...'

Turning on his side, Raze clenched his eyes shut, and pulled the slipping blanket back over himself.

'But for now, i'll sleep best i can.'

Despite his total exhaustion, sleep did not come easily, and when it did, it was interrupted by the thoughts he couldnt supress.

Hunger can drive a person mad, especially when lured with the promise of a full belly. It could drive you to shackle yourself, to harm others in a way you thought never possible, or agreeing to things you would soon come to regret.

Everything came down to money, and that those who had none, were bound to suffer.

Feeling the alcohol kick in, Raze closed his eyes, sinking into a dreamless sleep.