Dragonstone 2

**Chapter 2**

“*Even before Tryg could leave the table the sodden old man slurped down his ale, running his grimy finger about the rim of the mug to pick up the remaining light froth of foam then licking the finger clean, dirt and all.”*

Alos is a disgusting drunkard. \~/ Are you getting the point yet? No? Let's hammer it home some more, shall we?

Anyway, Offensive Racial Stereotype Chick is referred to as *“yellow”* a couple more times \~/\~/ and we learn that Generic Elf Chick is also not wearing a proper dress, because no female main character in fantasy ever wears a proper dress, and why do people keep expecting them to? Instead, she's wearing a green silk jerkin and brown pants. She's also short, *“perhaps no taller than four feet six or seven.”* So I guess that's one area where McKiernan's elves aren't just ripoffs of Tolkien's.

Generic Elf Chick suggests to Offensive Racial Stereotype Chick that maybe she didn't really need to threaten the barkeeper with drawn swords, to which the latter replies *“Even at rest, a sword in the hand speaks with a loud voice.”*

Yeah, it says “I am a violent and unstable individual who is quite capable of murdering you for no reason.” Is that what you want? For some modern context, think of swords as guns. Imagine a woman who goes into a bar and lays two loaded guns on her table. Now imagine that, as the bartender is kicking out an undesirable, this woman comes up behind the bartender and *points both guns at him.*

Not so much “badass” as “dangerously unstable.”

There's a couple more instances of Alos's obsessive love for John Barleycorn – on one page, mind you \~/\~/

– and Offensive Racial Stereotype Chick calls him a “begger” in Japanese, and mangles another Japanese word \~/ as she tells him he must refer to Generic Elf Chick as either “Lady” or “Dara.” We also learn that Generic Elf Chick's name is Arin, and Offensive Racial Stereotype Chick's name is Aiko. I shall refer to the latter as Samurai Chick henceforth, for reasons that should be obvious.

Arin asks if Alos is the only one-eyed man in Morkfjord – no, I'm not copy-pasting that stupid pseudo-O – and is told yes, he is. He's the only one-eyed man in a *Viking town.* Okay.

Also, technically he has both eyes; it's just that one doesn't work.

We get another reminder that Alos is filthy and disgusting \~/, and two more that Alos is a hopeless drunk. \~/\~/

Because we might have started to forget.

And then we get a fart joke. \~/ I'm not a fan of toilet humor, but if there was ever an appropriate place to tell the reader that a character *“leaned slightly up on one hip and noisily passed gas, then peered around as if to find the miscreant,”* a Tolkien-ripoff novel written in high-falutin' Fauxld English is not the place.

We get two more examples of Alos being a hopeless, pathetic drunk \~/\~/ (SERIOUSLY, MCKIERNAN, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!)

We finally learn that Arin and Samurai Chick are looking for a one-eyed man, but then suddenly a ship docks, and a bunch of guys approach the tavern, *“carryin' somethin' or someone on a litter.”* Samurai Chick has her swords out, because her default response to every situation is violence, but it turns out to be a returning raiding party, having been fighting the *“Damned Jutes.”*

The Vikings have a wounded man with them, Egil, whom they plop down on the bar. It seems Egil took a cut and *“th' wound ha' fevered him,”* so Yngli goes to fetch the healer, Thar. Meanwhile, the other Vikings start drinking, *“the mugs of brew being served across Egil's prostrate form.”*

And then we learn that . . . *Egil has lost an eye!*

Drinks: 12

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