A Day Of Rest

You enter a tavern, any old one, as the simplest blend together down here. The people are sparse, the chatter loud enough to keep any eavesdroppers away, and the barman gazes at you with a plain smile.

&quotWelcome to my little home of wines and water. Take a chair, I’ll be with you in a moment.&quot

Taking a stool at the bar, you wait patiently after receiving a cold water to wake you from the dreariness of the day. True to his word, the barman finishes his small degree of cleaning and takes his place in front of you, his wiry mustache twitching with a grin.

&quotFirst drink’s always free here, so long as you answer three questions. What’s your name? What brings you to the Neath? And what kind of friends do you keep?&quot