Kre stood and started to walk towards where the door would be, watching the hallway form around him as he did so. The door seemed to simply be, once he got to the place he remembered it to be, and the knocking sound came forth once again, louder this time.
“We shall talk soon,” came a whisper from some distant place behind him. Kre turned but found only darkness. The room was no longer there.
“Kre?” He recognized Ras’s voice. A light touch on the doorknob and the world seemed to explode with light, framing a small, yet weathered face.
“Morning Ras,” Kre said, stifling a yawn. “Sorry, I was caught up in a bit of a dream there, I think.”
“Must have been some dream,” Ras said with a smile. “You were muttering most of the night. Nothing that I could make out,” he added hastily, seeing the concern on Kre’s face that he might have let something slip while he was sleep-mumbling. “It was more like mmm… ffrrmmm… shnnnsh mrrmm.”
That brought a chuckle out of Kre which prompted a bigger smile from Ras. “You really are just the most sincerely, honestly, nicest person, aren’t you?” Kre asked the smaller man.
Ras’s face turned an immediate beet red, and he turned away. “Breakfast is ready. No special touch from Dain this time, I promise.”
“The boy still looks sleepy,” boomed a deep voice from off to one side of the pair. The figure moved forward and Kre noted that it was the heavily muscled, bearded man they called Druckner. “Here,” he said, pushing a tin cup into Kre’s hands.
The mug was hot, but not to the point of burning. On a chill morning like this it was actually just at the point of being comfortably warm. Inside was a dark liquid that didn’t slosh so much as it jiggled.
“Uh…” The sound came out of Kre’s mouth unbidden, though he was able to stop himself from the next part, which was to ask what in the hells it was. He wasn’t sure if that would be seen as offensive or not to these folk, and after last night, he had no desire to push them on any topic that might set them off.
“The dweorvkin call that stuff havaa,” Ras explained, noting Kre’s unease at the contents of the mug. “It’s a morning drink that they claim to have restorative powers.”
“Bleedin’ magic juice is what it is,” Druckner confirmed with a big toothy grin peeking through the bushy beard. “More magic in that cup than Dain has in all ‘is books. That brew’ll make your eyes pop, unlock parts o’your brain ain’t been used, and put hair on that baby face o’yours.”
Kre took a tentative sniff and almost gagged at the bitter smell that somehow both excited and burned his nostrils. “I might pass,” Kre said, holding the mug back out towards Druckner. “I’m feeling plenty awake after having just smelled it.”
“Ah yes,” Druckner said wistfully. “I recall the first time I breathed in that dark aroma. It’ll draw you back,” he said, waving the mug in Kre’s face. “Once you breathe in the fumes, you’re never the same. Come find me when you grow a pair and want to taste of the forbidden brew of the dweorvkin.”
The short muscular man stalked off towards the trees from whence he emerged, sipping at the mug he held in his hand. “Ahh!” came the periodic distant cry, presumably from Druckner enjoying his morning havaa.
“I’m not crazy, right?” Kre asked his new friend Ras. “That was a strange encounter, right?”
Ras could only nod mutely, having no words to defend his colleague’s behavior.