Running a Tavern as a Former Witch!

Fresh breeze entered the tavern through the newly cleaned glass windows. My staff member, Ion, had been aiding me in cleaning the entire place since early morning. I made a mental note to give him a raise; his dedication deserved it. Upon our arrival in the tavern, we witnessed Ion taking care of a bunch of drunken thugs that came in to cause disturbance.

It had been days since the day of my sudden adventure with Eamon to acquire the Staff of Aether, and since that day, I had been in possession of the artifact. Though my tavern could be considered the safest place in this town, it still puzzled me how Eamon expected a powerless witch to safeguard such a significant item.

The man baffles me.

Pushing open the door, I stepped into the new room I had prepared for patrons seeking a place to retire for the day. In total, the tavern now had four rooms available, and I had the keys behind the counter under a promotion board that Ion had prepared. It was a cozy addition, and I hoped it would attract more travelers and adventurers.

I felt giddy with excitement.

It was a good thing that my inhuman strength remained. Carrying the parts of the beds, tables, chairs, and wooden stands into each room and assembling them myself had been a breeze. Ion had fussed, insisting that he and the patrons who volunteered could handle it themselves, but I assured him it wasn't a problem.

I halted for a quick second. I stared at my reflection in the window of the hallway, I wondered if my height, a modest 5'4", made others underestimate my abilities. Despite my stature, my strength was unparalleled, a remnant of my days as a witch. One that is both a fond and bitter memory.

"Miss," Ion called from behind the counter, interrupting my thoughts. "We've got a new patron looking for a room."

"Of course," I replied, heading to the counter. I handed the key to the patron, a weary traveler who thanked me profusely before heading to his room. Ion watched him go, then turned to me with a curious expression.

"Miss, if you don't mind me asking, what was it like on your adventure with Eamon?"

I smiled, appreciating Ion's curiosity. "It was dangerous and thrilling. We faced the Guardians of the Staff of Aether, and by working together did we manage to retrieve it. But I believe our journey is far from over. There are other artifacts we must find."

Ion's eyes widened. "Do you think you'll have to leave the tavern again soon?"

"Most likely," I admitted. "But for now, we focus on keeping this place running smoothly."

As the day wore on, I busied myself with various tasks, helping patrons, managing the kitchen, and ensuring everything was in order. My strength came in handy more than once, lifting heavy barrels and crates with ease, much to the amazement of the regulars.

One regular, a burly blacksmith named Garin, watched as I effortlessly lifted a full barrel of ale and placed it on the counter. "By the gods, woman, you must have giant's blood in you!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee in amusement. I chuckled, wiping my hands on my apron.

My heart swelled from the compliment. What my physical stature lacked---my physical strength returned it ten-fold.

"Just a bit of old witchcraft," I replied with a laugh, though it was closer to the truth than they knew. The patrons always enjoyed seeing me demonstrate my strength, whether it was lifting heavy objects or effortlessly flipping a large skillet in the kitchen. It added a bit of entertainment to their day and kept the atmosphere lively.

-

The tavern’s warmth enveloped me like a comforting embrace as I settled into my usual corner by the hearth near the bar. The fire crackled softly, casting a golden hue across the wooden beams and the worn, antique wooden chairs. Most of the patrons were seasoned adventurers, their gruff laughter and hearty conversations creating a vibrant, almost intimidating atmosphere for newcomers.

My eyes darted toward the entrance, where the heavy door had just swung open. A group of young adventurers, barely old enough to grow facial hair or wield their weapons with much confidence, shuffled inside. They were a mix of hopeful eyes and tentative smiles, their clothes a bit too clean and their gear too polished, betraying their inexperience.

As they scanned the room, their gaze inevitably fell on the rough-and-tumble adventurers occupying several seats, their stories and exploits echoing in the tavern’s lively hum. The young ones hesitated, unsure of how to blend into this rough-and-ready crowd.

I watched them with a knowing smile, recognizing the look of uncertain bravery that was all too familiar.

“Come, sit with me,” I called out. The young adventurers hesitated for a moment before making their way over, their nerves transparent but their curiosity piqued. I gestured to the empty seats around my spot, and they took their places, their eyes darting around nervously.

“Don’t worry about them,” I said, nodding toward the rowdy group. “They’re impressive, but they were young and nervous once too.” I said, smiling towards the young group.

One of the young adventurers, a lanky boy with a nervous fidget, spoke up. “We’ve heard so much about what it’s like out there. Sometimes it feels like we’ll never measure up.”

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes twinkling with mischief and nostalgia. “Ah, I remember those days. The days when I was more eager than skilled, more bold than prepared.”

The group’s interest was immediately piqued. “You were an adventurer?” one of them asked, wide-eyed.

“Indeed, and a witch before that,” I replied with a chuckle. “I’ve had my share of quests and misadventures. Let me tell you about a time when I was just as nervous as you are.”

The young adventurers leaned in, their fears momentarily forgotten as I recall my tale.

“It was my first real quest as a witch,” I began. “I was tasked with retrieving a stolen artifact from a band of goblins. Naive as I was, I thought it would be a simple task. I marched into their lair with nothing but my staff and a handful of spells.”

The young group gasped and chuckled at the image. “Needless to say, it did not go as planned. The goblins were not only clever but also incredibly mischievous. They set traps everywhere and taunted me with riddles that I could not comprehend. I spent more time being ensnared in their pranks than actually making progress.”

My eyes sparkled with the memory. “But here’s the thing—every time I found myself in a bind, I learned something new. I learned how to think on my feet, how to use my surroundings to my advantage, and how to rely on my instincts. And most importantly, I learned that failing is not the end of the world. It’s just part of the journey.”

The young adventurers looked at each other, their expressions shifting from doubt to determination. One of them, a girl with bright eyes and a fierce spirit, asked, “What happened in the end?”

“I managed to outwit the goblins by using their own tricks against them,” I said with a grin. “And when I returned the artifact, I realized that the real treasure was the confidence I gained. Each challenge made me stronger, and each mistake taught me something valuable.”

My story seemed to lift a veil of uncertainty from the young adventurers’ faces. Chuckling to themselves. “So,” I continued, “remember that every great adventurer started somewhere, just like you. Embrace the challenges, learn from them, and never be afraid to fail. That’s how you grow.”

The young adventurers nodded. They laughed and chatted, their earlier doubt and hesitation replaced by a sense of assurance and hope.

As the night wore on, I watched them integrate into the tavern’s lively atmosphere.

The tavern felt a little warmer, a little brighter, with the promise of countless adventures yet to come. New stories to tell in the comfort of my tavern.