In a remote, narrow and crowded street near the aristocratic quarters of the Ghetto of Djerkhara sits such a nondescript tavern. This pub for all classes of citizens of Djerkhara is open day and night, especially in the evenings.

The tavern's name was "The Drunken Hunter", and the reason for its strange name, according to the younger brother of the tavern's pair, was that the two brothers were once out hunting together, but the elder brother got so drunk in the evening that he accidentally shot his brother's ass as a deer. So, in honor of this very funny event, the lively brothers gave their tavern such a name.

Despite the strange name of the tavern and the fact that it is located on such a dirty street, it did not close as soon as one might think, but gradually gained popularity throughout Djerkhala.

In fact, in Djerkhara, almost everyone knows the name of this tavern. Many people will call a few friends to come here when they have a small dollar or two in their hands, enjoy the wonderful songs of the bards, gossip with other drinkers about the latest news in the city, and make a few new friends by the way, which is not too comfortable.

Therefore, it is not only the poor of the civilian district who come to the tavern of the "drunken hunter", but even the lords of the aristocratic quarter often visit this interesting tavern. Therefore, it is common to see such scenes in this small tavern: carpenters, potters, blacksmiths, some mercenary merchants, circus clowns, playwrights, prostitutes, etc., etc., these ordinary insignificant little people, but they sit with the richly dressed and talkative old men, telling jokes from unknown sources, and from time to time bursts of laughter of unknown meaning.

The "masterminds" behind all this are the brothers who own the tavern, a pair of humorous and humorous treasures who are never demanding of their guests and never ask them about the details of their lives. In their eyes, the sun hanging high in the sky according to God's will and command is the same for both rich and poor. Besides that, they were very convinced that whoever the guest was, whether it was some humble poor man or some shameless charlatan in Djerkhalali, whether he was a wealthy merchant or a proud knight, the copper plates, the septins and the dinar that were taken out of their pockets were the same.

So, although sometimes the two brothers would play tricks on a whim on an unfortunate guest, provoking the visitor to scold. But their courteous attitude and cheerful temperament attracted many regulars, and they all regarded the brothers as rare close friends.

Charles himself, under the introduction of his subordinates, slowly fell in love with the tavern. So, even though it had only been three months since he had been here and settled here, he had become good friends with the tavern's owner's brothers.

No, after leaving Count Atlas's castle, he came to the door of this tavern again. Although there are many taverns in Djerkhara that are much better than those of the "drunken hunters", such as the one that Charles took with him when he first came to Djerkhara. But Charles' subordinates still love this somewhat filthy tavern alone. Therefore, while they were waiting in the garden of the castle to receive the reward, Charles made an appointment to meet them here when he clearly had a better choice, which was not so unreasonable.

Charles pulled out his handkerchief and covered his nose as he walked down the long, smelly street until he reached the tavern's door. Since it was not yet noon, the atmosphere in the tavern was still a little deserted, but compared to the other taverns in the city, it was still very lively.

At the entrance of the hotel hangs a sign engraved with a money belt and a wine jug, and it is obvious that someone has drawn a thin red edge on the pattern. On the left side of the plaque hangs a white cloth with a pattern, and the image of it is not so much a handsome hunter drunk as a drunken drunken rogue-thief who is everywhere in the city of Djerkhara. This crappy painting is clearly the work of a destitute crappy painter.

Charles raised his brow, and looked at the famous "masterpiece" for a moment with some amusement, for some reason, he did it every time he came here, as if doing so would bring him great pleasure. Cracking his mouth and laughing silently, he shrank his head and stepped into the small, low door of the tavern. Even though he knew it looked unsightly, he had to do it. He is seventeen years old this year, and his size alone has reached 1.83 meters, if he doesn't shrink his head like this, he will naturally be dizzy by the short door frame.

In fact, he wasn't the only one who had to do this, many of the tall Djerkhalas like him had to bend over to get into the tavern, so Charles himself didn't have much of a mental burden on it. However, relatively speaking, the Rhodok people are generally not very tall, so there will still be many "malicious" little men who will secretly snicker at this time: Let you people grow tall, a bunch of stupid big guys!

Charles scanned the hall on the first floor, but found no sign of Bill, presumably they must be on the second floor. He politely responded to the greetings of a few familiar drinkers in the hall, and then walked up the steps made of planks of birch wood that could be found everywhere outside the city to the upper floor of the tavern.

As soon as he stepped onto the second floor, he saw on the right side of the staircase, surrounded by a stone platform against the wall, on which a stove had been cleverly built by the owner of the tavern.

Charles' subordinates, a group of twelve people, sat in a row around the stove, and when they saw Charles coming up, they all raised their glasses in their hands to salute him. Bill, the cavalryman closest to the Charles, sprang up from his stool and sang happily around him.

Charles looked at him helplessly, stretched out his hand and pulled him to sit down, and then poured all the wine in his hand into his mouth, which stopped his extremely unpleasant singing and caused the others to burst into laughter. It was only then that he made time to check out the people and environment around him.

The flickering flame of the stove burned beneath the pot, in which were boiling all sorts of cheap ingredients that were common here in Djerkhara, and the only few pieces of beef Charles could tell at a glance that they had bought the fine ribs from the butcher's shop before they came to the tavern. On the other side of the stove, in a small open alcove, there was a small icon made of wood from the same tree as the tavern steps. In order to worship this great god, the attendant carefully lit a small lantern on the side, and placed several bouquets of flowers and a wreath.

In the corner of the second floor of the tavern was a small wooden door, and on the side of the wooden door was an oil lamp with only one lamp in it, and the dim light shone faintly on the room, and in the half-darkness Charles could faintly see part of the floor and a few beds on the floor.