Terminal Echoes (Piece 3): Cracked Node Tavern

Beneath the warm haze of alchemical lanterns and low electric buzz of old machines, the Cracked Node Tavern was alive with laughter, spilled drinks, and the familiar scent of scorched herbs and copper. It was a patchwork haven stitched from salvaged server racks and ancient stone, where the wiring hummed just as loud as the goblins.

The Cracked Node Tavern...tunnel/back entrance

At the far end of the bar, slouched but smiling beneath a worn hooded coat, sat Viktar. He lifted his flagon with practiced ease and took a long drink of glowing ale, wincing as it singed down his throat.

"Zig, what are you making this stuff with these days? Ethanol? From the Humans, eh?"

Behind the counter, Zig...barkeep, loudmouth, self proclaimed drinksmith of Galdrek...turned with a smirk. He glanced at the cloudy glass he was wiping, held it up to the light, then to Viktar.

"What do you care, Vik? I make it, you drink it." Zig spun around, set the glass into a cabinet beneath the bar, and continued.

He pointed dramatically toward the tavern doors.

"This is yet another secret formula, and I'll be damned if I'm going to utter even one more ingredient to you... I go across the road to Drex and his clan’s tavern..." Zig said, dramatically pointing at the front door, "and what do I see? Glowing drinks. Everywhere. A full table of patrons with a mysterious green glowing liquid that looks an awful lot like Zig’s Glowdrink, don’tcha think?! You know why it glows, Viktar? Of course you do—because I told you. Glowdrink didn’t exist in Galdrek until I made it! With the finest ingredients in the land! Now tell me, why do I see it everywhere, outside of the Cracked Node? Same color, same flavor—and you’re the only one I ever told three of the four ingredients to..."

Viktar lifted the large flagon to his lips and took a generous swig of the glowing liquor, slamming the mug back down on the bar with a chortle.

"Oh, stop it. You act like this glowing horse-piss is liquid-fucking gold sometimes, Zig. I don’t get why everything has to be about the drink with you."

Zig stopped what he was doing, turned to Viktar again, arms out, incredulous look on his face, grimacing at Viktar—who was clearly missing the bigger picture.

"I’M A BARKEEP, YOU DOLT! MY DRINKS ARE MY LIFE! AND YOURS! I don’t hear you complaining when you’re kicking back round after round daily, muttering some unintelligible crap, and stumbling out of here to heavens kno—"

Zig stopped mid-sentence and looked around the room, which had suddenly gone quiet as every one of his patrons began to take notice of his latest dramatic outburst. Some say many of the patrons expect these from the wild barkeep as a form of entertainment.

Viktar didn’t blink—grinning widely, motionless, still staring at Zig.

"Eh, keep goin’, Cap’n," he said with a sarcastic edge, lifting his heavy flagon in a degen goblin approved salute. "It’s so easy to send you into a tailspin... brother, now this is entertainment!" he cracked, again putting the mug to his lips and taking a large drink, slamming it back down on the bar in front of him before bursting into hearty laughter at the eccentric barkeep.

Some more healthy chuckles could be heard above the usual commotion of the tavern, from other patrons who frequently witnessed, and almost waited for…Zig’s signature outbursts.

An old, gray-bearded goblin in a wide-brimmed leather hat sitting across the bar from Viktar piped up.

"Eh, chap Zig…whereabouts do you keep them super top secret level-seven classified recipes?"

"Like hell I'd tell you either, Schot," Zig snapped back.

"Well, we know yous gots 'em. We just need to know where you keeps 'em. I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on the recipe for the-what did you call that purple one? The 404 Eraser? Now that’s a strong drink worthy of a goblin king!"

"The 404 recipe calls for materials sourced from Gildspire Forest. You can taste it—exceptional flavor, exceptional intoxication, exceptional ingredients," Zig replied proudly, puffing his chest out a bit. Many of the Cracked Node patrons knew that if you got Zig talking about his famous drinks, his intense pride would eventually get the better of him, and he would reveal his recipes. He often talked himself into corners by bragging about his “exceptionally sourced” ingredients.

"Damn you, Schot—stop distracting a conversation that is obviously between me and Viktar, okay?" Zig finally said, realizing what he’d just given away.

Viktar took another sip of his mug and grinned widely as Zig shot him a side-eye. Schot, from across the bar, threw him a mischievous wink and smile.

"Methinks you keep it in that dinosaur human machine... that heap of circuits you call a cash register over there," Schot eventually replied, motioning to the big beige (and quite dirty) box sitting beneath the corner of the bar. The box wasn’t very large, but an audible hum came from the spinning fans inside, and a faint blue light glowed from behind a logo on the front where the letters “IBM” were illuminated.

"It’s not a cash register. It’s a human computer—and a classic one at that. It’s an icon," Zig replied, voice slightly annoyed.

"I heard they can be hacked by sneezing on them," Viktar suddenly quipped as he glanced up at Schot, returning the wink and smile. "Tell me, Zig—why do you insist on bringing in and using human technology, anyway, when we have all the power of the GNet and C.O.D.A behind us?"

"That is the question indeed," said a different voice, as a tall, hooded figure stepped in through the front doors.

"Good evening, Gharek. Welcome, sir," Zig said, motioning for Gharek to have a seat at the bar.

Gharek was tall—for a goblin. He wore a thick brown, hooded trenchcoat. He sported a silver longsword in a scabbard across his back and a large pistol with a blue-jeweled grip in an elaborate black leather holster around his waist. His hair was long and black, and his bright green eyes reflected ever so slightly from beneath his hood in the dim tavern. A trait of infravision, an inherited trait in some goblin families, allowed them to see into shadows—illuminating their retinas to see clearly in the dark, as if by candlelight. Goblins lucky enough to inherit this gift often became scouts and explorers of the more ancient, unexplored sections of Deep Galdrek.

Gharek walked toward the bar, smiling, and stood next to Viktar.

"Hello, Zig. How is business?"

"Good. Have a seat. How about a round of 404s on the house?" Zig offered.

"I would love to, Barmaster Zig, but I did not come today for drinks," Gharek replied, putting a hand on Viktar’s shoulder and nodding toward the door.

"Vik, brother… Quarn is calling the Echo Kin. They’re assembling a small team, and I’ve been sent to summon you. Call it a mission."

"The Echo Kin? What the hell is going on that they need to call the Echo Kin? It must be big," Viktar replied, his voice taking a more serious tone.

"It is. And your services are needed again, old friend. I need you to sober up. You have a meeting with Quarn and Lord Spoon in the morning."

"Right," Viktar said, taking a final sip of his large flagon of Glowdrink and pushing it toward Zig. He stood, reached into his trenchcoat, and pulled out several gold coins etched with a soft, magenta-glowing letter G embedded in integrated circuits on the face. Viktar tossed them on the bar toward Zig—one coin spinning on surface of the polished wood.

"This should cover my tab for the past three months, Zig—and put the rest toward Schot’s monthly fees."

“Thank you kindly, my lad.”, said Schot, smiling and lifting his mug in casual salute.

Viktar straightened his jacket and turned toward Gharek—when Zig suddenly slammed his hand down on the spinning coin.

Viktar turned back.

"Vik," said Zig, his voice suddenly dead serious. "Please. Come back alive, friend. Here—I want you to take this. Wait."

Zig began digging through the cabinets above the bar, moving aside stacks of glasses and rags until he felt the small leather pouch he was looking for. He pulled it out from deep within a cabinet and tossed it to Viktar.

Viktar caught the pouch with one hand and opened it to glance inside. Three vials of a thick, glowing blue liquid shimmered within.

"Blue luminous  mushroom from East Galdrek Forest," Zig began proudly. "I JUST created this formula lastmonth. I’ve been saving it—just in case. If you become mortally wounded, drink one. Uh… but only one."

"Only one?" Gharek said, examining a vial under the light.

"There are some side effects. It can put you into a mild hallucinogenic state. Very mild. I haven’t figured out how to fully extract the psychoactive properties yet. I was able to counter it, lessen the effects with clarity herbs—but some of it remains," Zig explained. "It doesn’t affect me much, but I’ve got a tolerance to the hallucinogen…but that’s a story for another day. Maybe it’s best if you win the fight… then drink it afterwards."

"You know it doesn’t always work out like that, Zig. I sometimes wish it could, though," Gharek said. "So your saying this is bringing someone back from the brink of death? That’s significant. Drex’s wife is an herbalist—she makes healing potions that don’t have side effects. I mean, they make you sick slightly, but...", Viktar trailed off….shaking the vial and holding it up to a candle and examining the contents once more.

"Yeah, but…these work almost instantly. Show me another herbalist, chemist, freaking magician in Galdrek who can do THAT! Six minutes is too long—you could die, these work immediately. Like I said, Vik—you come here because you like my drinks, brethren."

"Not just that, Zig. I come here because you are also... my friend.”, Viktar replied, turning to face the barkeep. “And no, it wasn’t me who shared the recipe for Glowdrink. You forget how many times you bragged about the recipe you sourced in Galdrek Forest," Viktar said.

Zig suddenly stopped cleaning the glass in his hands. He visibly froze, eyes darting around the room at all the patrons seated at different tables.

"...He’s right," Zig mouthed to himself. "He’s fucking right. Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?"

"Let’s go, my brother. I’ll accompany you on your walk home," Gharek said, putting his arm around Viktar and ushering him toward the door.

And with that, Viktar and Gharek turned and walked out of the Cracked Node Tavern.

Gharek Blackblade (with goggles)

Barkeep Zig

The Cracked Node side street entrance

Will add picture of Viktar....one day ;)