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My Life Running a Tavern on the Villains Side

GirlNextDoor
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
On one side of the world, heroes fight against the forces of darkness. On the other side, the forces of darkness drink at Lara’s tavern. Lara, a girl with no memory, finds herself running the Brimstone Tavern: home to demons, orcs, bounty hunters, and one really depressing necromancer. All she has to do is serve snacks, survive the patrons, smile for tips, and try not to spill any more drinks on the ridiculously handsome Dark Lord himself. And as if that weren’t awkward enough, just wait until she regains her memories and remembers she was sent to spy on him. Cozy chaos, slow-burn romance, and a dash of crazy patrons: from minotaurs to wendigos to Cthulhu himself.
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Chapter 1 - Awakening

Waking up in a strange bed in a strange room was one thing. But staring up expecting a ceiling and instead seeing a strange floating box was something else entirely. The space above me was full of a reflective brown box, like an opaque layer of mist I could put my fingers through. There was writing on it. Words that made no sense.

──────────────────────────────

Lara – Level 1

XP: [█------] 5/20

STR: -5 | CON: -5 | DEX: +0 | INT: +0 | CHA: +1

Mission Unlocked: Survive the Night!

──────────────────────────────

"...What?" I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

The text wobbled slightly, like it was beginning to get self-conscious. Then it blinked out of existence.

Great, just how I wanted to start my day. With hallucinations!

Sitting up in bed, I began to wish I hadn't. The room around me was a mess, a cramped one that smelled oddly of onions. The sheets under me were rough linen, and a single candle on the nightstand flickered.

My hair was in bad need of brushing. My feet were feeling oddly sore. And my clothes, well, they had certainly seen better days.

Before I could process any of it, the door creaked open, and that one candle that was holding on for dear life went out. Luckily, the hallway poured firelight through the cracked door, and into the room walked what I could only describe as a hog-goblin.

Not quite goblin, but he had most of the defining characteristics. His face was animalistic with a protruding snout. The tufts of hair surrounding his face were streaked white and gray, and he walked with a slight hunch.

"Well, yer finally awake," he grunted, scratching his chin with a claw. "Thought you were dead for sure. Would've been a shame, too. Would have to throw out good bedsheets."

"Oh," I said faintly. "Thank you?"

He squinted at me. "Yer pretty enough to be a noble, maybe. Figured I'd ransom you off to your father. Who is he, then? Some duke? Maybe a merchant lord?"

"I... don't know," I admitted, blinking. "Actually, I don't remember anything."

He froze. "Anything?"

I racked my brain for a second. Surely, I had to remember something. Like how I got here. Or who I was. Or at the very least my name. But the more I thought about it, the thicker the fog in my head got.

"I'm sorry… I'm blanking."

He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. "Typical bad luck." Then he waddled closer, eyeing me critically. "What's yer name then, girl?"

"Also don't remember."

He scratched his chin again, then said, "You can call yourself Laravalaskainivia. That was my mother's name."

I stared. "That's... a mouthful."

He shrugged. "So was she."

I wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. "I'll shorten it to Lara," I said quickly.

"Kids these days," he muttered, shaking his head. "No respect for proper naming traditions."

He turned and shuffled toward the door, jerking his thumb. "Well, Lara, I'm Heffers. This here's my tavern, the Brimstone Tavern. I found you passed out in the alley out back. Since you've got no memories, no family, and no sense, I suppose you can work here for room and board. You can keep your tips, if you live long enough to earn any."

"Live long enough?" I repeated.

"The last girl got eaten by orcs," he said matter-of-factly. "So don't get eaten by orcs, and we'll get along fine."

I nodded slowly. "Right. Avoid being eaten. Got it."

"Good lass. There's a uniform in the drawer there. Change quickly and come down. The night's crowd do be forming."

He stomped out before I could ask what exactly a "night crowd" consisted of.

It took me a second to find the nerve to stand up. And another second to run my hand through my hair to untangle it. As I made my way to the drawer, I continued to rack my brain. What was my name? What was I doing here? And why the hell was I found unconscious in a back alley?

I opened the drawer Heffers had pointed out, pulling out the outfit in question. The uniform was far prettier than I expected. It was a short dress with a red skirt and white flowy sleeves. There was a leather corset that went over it, tightening everything into place. I wished I could have bathed first, but at least the dress was clean. Much cleaner than the rest of the room.

I looked around for shoes and finally found an oversized pair of boots hiding in a closet. They didn't exactly match the uniform, but it was better than going barefoot. Once it was all done, I looked over at the cracked mirror standing in the corner of the room. I was greeted by a face I didn't recognize. For what it's worth, the girl in the reflection didn't seem pleased to see me either.

I stepped out the door into a hallway lined with torches. There were two other doors, and at the end of the hall, a staircase that seemed to be unwinding down. By the time I made it downstairs, the tavern was already roaring to life.

The Brimstone Tavern was… enormous. Dim red light flickered from the many lanterns lining the wall, and thick smoke curled lazily near the ceiling. The scent was a mix of ale, sweat, roasted meat, and faint sulfur. At least two goblins were wrestling on a table while a trio of cloaked mages cheered them on. A woman with horns was flirting aggressively with a bounty hunter. Someone was playing a lute badly.

Heffers waved me over from behind the bar. "Oi! Lara! Quit gawkin' and come here."

I hurried over. "Sorry. Just taking it all in."

"Don't take in too much, bad for the lungs," he said. "Here's how it works. Drinks come from them bottles there, except the green ones, don't touch the green ones, they're alive. Food orders are prepared in the kitchen. You'll serve, clean, and smile. The smiling's important. The monsters tip better if they think you like them."

"Got it," I said. "Serve, clean, smile."

"Good lass. Now, go take this tray to Table Six. The goblins there've been waiting long enough."

I looked at the tray, unable to identify the bubbling mugs that were practically hissing. Trying not to think too much about it, I turned around and forced a cheerful smile. "I'm on it!"

It took all my nerve to stare straight ahead and keep smiling as I walked past the chaos of the tavern. There must have been twelve tables scattered across the main floor, most of them full. The furniture was a mismatched collection of heavy oak slabs, scarred by claw marks and scorch lines. Several candle-lit wooden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, seeming to sway with the hustle and bustle below.

The air thrummed with noise, laughter, curses, the occasional schling of a sword, and the steady rhythm of boots on wood.

It wasn't like any tavern I'd ever imagined. There were no cheery hearths or happy minstrels here. Instead, a pair of orcs argued loudly at one table while a horned woman in red silk counted coins at another.

I took a deep breath, and immediately regretted it when I smelled something like singed hair. So instead, I held my breath as I walked over to what I assumed was Table Six.

"There you go, gentlemen," I said, carefully setting down the mugs. "Four… uh… drinks!"

"Grom's Gutsbrew!" one of them croaked cheerfully. "Extra acid! Melts the enamel right off yer teeth!"

"Sounds lovely," I said, smiling so hard my cheeks ached. "Enjoy!"

I turned to head back, proud that I'd survived my first delivery, when I slipped on something slick. The tray in my hands wobbled and fell with a loud clang.

"Ack, sorry," I said, crouching to get it before standing up.

That was when I realized I was standing on a tail. A long black tail, one that flicked with sudden intensity. Enough to send me crashing back to the floor.

"You dare!" a voice roared out, and just like that, the tavern around me went silent.

The tail was attached to someone. Someone big, scaled, and imposing. He stood up, enormous and muscular, as he glared down at me with glowing red eyes. He looked half human and half draconic, with his scales catching the firelight as he hissed low and slow.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to squeak the words out, beginning to get back up.

The monster man helped me out, if I can call it that. He essentially grabbed me by my hair, tugging me up to my feet with surprising viciousness. I yelped, reaching up to dislodge his grip, only to realize I had no hope of doing so. He held me up in front of his table. There were four men seated there, monsters I couldn't identify.

"Shall I skin her alive for your entertainment, my lord?"

It felt like everyone was watching with held breath, probably because they were. I couldn't hear much else above my own beating heart threatening to tear out of my chest. I was being held like a dead animal, like a carcass presented to whomever sat at the head of that table. And when I dared to look at him, I wished I hadn't.

Sitting at the end of the oak slab was a man of sorts, dressed from head to toe in metallic black armor with a long dark cloak. He had no helmet, revealing glowing purple eyes and imposing horns. He watched me with calculated coldness, and I couldn't help but notice something.

He was… beautiful. Not the sweet kind of handsome that makes you feel safe, but the kind that makes you feel anything but. I felt myself swallow, feeling all so small. And his gaze seemed to confirm that smallness. He looked at me as if he were examining an insect that had somehow wandered into his presence.

Then he spoke, his voice like a shard of ice. "Dispose of her."

"Dispose?" I squeaked. "That seems a bit extreme for mild clumsiness."

"Idiocy is a curse. I don't want it spreading among my ranks."

"I promise I'm not contagious."

I heard him scoff. It almost sounded… amused.

The draconic man holding me began to unsheathe his blade, but the purple-eyed man at the head of the table raised his hand for him to stop.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment more, and then he looked away. This was both a relief and slightly disappointing, which I would have to unpack with a therapist later.

The guard dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I hit the floor and gracelessly scrambled up to my feet. I considered saying thank you but thought better of it, did the world's most awkward curtsy, and scurried back to the bar.

As I walked away, the tavern regained its liveliness. It was as if people were given permission to talk and laugh again. I was just happy to have my thoughts drowned out by the loud chatter.

Heffers was shaking his head as I made it back to the safety of the bar.

"You won't last the night," he sighed. "I'll have to start looking for a replacement already."

"Oh, come on," I said, leaning on the counter. "It wasn't that bad."

"You just spilled a tray in front of the Dark Lord himself."

"There's a Dark Lord?"

Heffers gave me a look. "I thought humans were supposed to be smarter than this." He shook his head. "Try not to think so much. It ain't yer strong suit, lass. Grab another tray, this order goes out to Table Four."

"Right. Working. Smiling. Surviving."

As I grabbed another tray, I wondered just what the hell I had gotten myself into.