When Reina Fought the Mountain

By Mircea Florea

All Reina wanted to do was to spend her night drinking at the local tavern while listening to bards singing about her past adventures, but when she finds out that her favorite brand of ale cannot be found anymore she embarks on an epic adventure to find old Tresbir the brewer and save the inhabitants of a small mountain village from the evil plans of a nature loving cult.

A short fantasy story filled packed with action and humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mircea Florea
• Release date: Oct 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005389154

Mircea Florea

I was born in a small town in Eastern Europe surrounded by ruins of both ancient and modern times.Since I was a child I was an avid day dreamer, and I fed that vice withadventure novels, movies and video games.My stories are my own brick laid on a world of fantasy, a world where we all like escape from time to time.

Book preview

When Reina

Fought

the mountain

by Mircea Florea

October 2020

Copyright © 2020 Mircea Florea

All rights reserved

Cover art by Mircea Florea

This book or any portion of this book may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permissions from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in reviews.

The story has been brought by Tresbor Brewery.

Tresbor Brewery - bringing you the best ale

in all six kingdoms since the rule of King Tarden the First.

For any other concerns you can contact me at:

[e-mail]

When Reina fought the mountain

"When fearless Reina fought the serpent

That rose from the depths of the sea…

She struck it down with her steel spear

And had ... a cup…of... tea?"

Gerven took another sip of beer then pushed the mug carefully on the table against a stack of greasy empty plates and began a new verse while plucking the chords on his lute.

Here it goes, the ballad of Reina! announced the bard loudly.

"When fearless Reina fought the sea snake…

The earth did shake... no, that’s not right… the sea snake, the sea snake that lived in a lake… bollocks! The sea snake... make, bake, take.... Damn it! There’s no good word that rhymes with snake."

The bard’s artistic struggles grabbed the attention of two brutish creatures several tables away.

What about ‘fake’? laughed one of them and to further humiliate the uninspired bard he grabbed a half-eaten chicken leg from his plate and threw it across the room right into Gerven’ cup, splashing the fellow’s pants with stale beer.

This impressive feat of accuracy was apparently more appreciated throughout the tavern than the bard’s song and it made all its dwellers explode in laughter and applause. All its dwellers except one.

In the far corner of the drinking hall, in the company of shadows and cobwebs, a sulky woman was sitting with her blond head hanging low among two round tanned shoulders.

Her eyes were fixated on the cup before her, deeply immersed in studying the fizzing of the foam from her brown ale, but the woman was not oblivious to the gaiety around her. She slowly raised her fist and let it drop like a hammer, with a resounding crack on the wooden table, ceasing all merriment.

And what so bloody fake about it? said the woman lifting a pair of blue-grey eyes.

The expert thrower of chicken legs turned his head towards her, still grinning and puffed:

That story is as fake and full of crap as that bard’s voice.

The woman sprung up from her chair, almost smashing through the ceiling with the top of her skull. She rotated her head like a hawk in search of its prey, scouting her surroundings and then locked her gaze on the main target.

We might need to point out that despite the peaceful and lazy atmosphere one would find at The Golden Rooster tavern on any given evening, this particular dame felt necessary to have a leather armor equipped, two large daggers strapped to her belt and a long sharp spear at hand’s length while serving her drink.

All this and the way she cracked her knuckles made the previously loudmouth drop his eyes into what was left of his meal and freeze in complete silence like a rabbit hiding from a beast of prey and waiting for the danger to pass.

The tall woman walked over to the table where her target now sat quietly hurling out of her way chairs, tables and whatever and whoever crossed her path and then asked again:

Fake you say?

Hey, no need to get so enraged over it, said another fellow sharing the table. A fellow who apparently wasn’t silenced by the woman’s stature or equipment.

I believe it. As a matter of fact, I have a sea serpent in my trousers that you can figh…

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as his forehead rushed to meet the hard edge of the table.

Reina! For fuck’s sake! Take it outside if you must! bursted the tavern keeper from behind the counter.

This is a decent place.

Then maybe you can start serving some decent ale, replied Reina, then turned to her left and with a heavy punch knocked down the other man who had the misjudgement of getting up and trying to catch her by surprise.

I say… mumbled the first fellow trying to get up from the floor. I say I agree with the broad, on this point. It’s hard to get drunk on this horse piss you’re serving here.

Shut up, scum! Didn’t you hear it’s a decent tavern? said Reina, fulfilling the man’s ambition to lose consciousness with a swift kick to the chin.

The tavern keeper brought a large bucket of water from behind his bar and emptied it fully over the two men lying on the floor, the victims of Reina’s short temper. He then helped them up to their feet and more firmly than politely accompanied them to the door where he sent them both out into the