"Yo, Marcus! Gimme another drink!"
It was five years after that incident. I walked down the paved road of a town miles and miles away from Redalus Temple, many, many miles away. This town was supposedly the home of a famous swordsman, Archius Redalus. My grandfather. I entered the tavern and the instant I did, every drunk man turned and stared at me. I closed my eyes and opened them, walking up to the bartender's table.
"Whatsa minor like youse doin' round these parts?" a drunk man slurred next to me.
"I'm here on a mission," I replied. The drunk man slapped his knee and laughed loudly.
"DID'JALL HEAR THAT!?" he screamed while laughing. "TH' KID'S ON A MISSION!!!"
"Do any of you know of a man named Archius Redalus?" I asked solemnly. Suddenly, the drunk man stopped laughing and the rest of the regulars at the tavern gave me a cold stare.
"We don' talk 'bout men like him," an old man slurred.
"Don't listen to these idiots," the bartender said from behind me. "They're all regulars, and usually they've had three more than their cut-off limit. So, what do you want?"
"I want to know where Archius Redalus is," I said, sitting down. "I hear that he's quite the famous swordsman."
"Not long ago, Archius left town, actually," the bartender said, washing used pint glasses. "He said that he was heading for the large city up north, uh, Ardania."