Free Weapon of the Guild [The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster, Book 2] by Alastair J. Archibald Page A

no more than a hollow automaton.
    The adventurers took their beers to a secluded corner table. “This place is scary!” Crest muttered, taking a healthy swig of ale. “It's almost like the people are animated corpses, marionettes manipulated by some crazy puppeteer."
    "They aren't zombies,” Dalquist replied. “They are as alive as we are, but they're labouring under a hideous, mighty and unremitting spell. I can see it plainly in their auras. We may have our Quest to fulfil and no more, but I for one will not rest until these people are free." Grimm engaged his own Mage Sight, and he saw the citizens’ magical chains standing out in stark relief.
    "It's worse than slavery,” the young mage muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “At least slaves are free to rebel, even if it might mean their deaths. These people are just puppets. If Starmor is behind this, I could kill him with my bare hands."
    "Cheerfully,” Crest growled, cracking his knuckles.
    "We have little time left in which to recover the Eye,” Dalquist said. “I suggest we act tonight. Perhaps the townspeople expend so much energy during the day that there will be few wandering the streets after dark."
    Grimm suggested they stay in the bar until it closed. The others agreed, and Grimm offered to remove the alcohol from the blood of the warriors before they acted. “Well, maybe not all of it, eh, Questor Grimm?” Harvel grinned.
    Grimm gave his head an apologetic shake. “It's all or nothing, Harvel. I'm sorry, but we must have completely clear heads tonight."
    Dalquist nodded. “Drink what you want now, but you must be quite sober if we are to succeed. I'm not sanguine about the outcome as it is, let alone with drink befuddling our senses or loosening our tongues." As he said this, he shivered, and even the hard-boiled Harvel acquiesced. The beaming landlord kept the quartet supplied with ale, which Crest and Harvel consumed with gusto.
    "At least I won't have to worry about a hangover.” The swordsman laughed, draining half the contents of his glass at a gulp.
    Grimm sipped his ale, casting surreptitious looks at the other patrons, but none seemed even to react to the group's presence.
    Darkness fell, and the drinking continued; many of the customers matching Crest and Harvel drink for drink, yet never becoming profane or troublesome. As soon as glasses were empty, the landlord was there to offer a refill of his excellent ale.
    After it seemed an age had passed, the landlord rang a small bell. The other customers finished their drinks in perfect synchrony and rose as one man, exiting the bar in an orderly progression. On the faces of several of the drinkers, Grimm recognised expressions of purest relief as they filed out of the tavern. Dalquist frowned at the swordsman and the elf, who seemed to have forgotten they had a mission to fulfil. With evident regret, Harvel and Crest finished their drinks. The landlord, a smiling shadow, appeared at once, cleared the table with efficient speed and then was gone. Grimm felt as relieved as the other customers seemed, now that the nightmare drinking session was at an end. Despite his earlier misgivings, he felt eager to get the business over and done with. Dalquist nodded, and all four rose to their feet.
    Although Crest and Harvel swayed a little as the group exited the inn, Grimm admired their powers of alcoholic endurance; he felt astonished that they were able to stand at all. The cool night air was sweet, and Grimm filled his lungs, the gentle breeze a welcome friend after the stuffy confines of the alehouse. The streets were deserted, and the only sounds Grimm heard were the whispering wind and the distant, mournful howl of a dog.
    Grimm motioned his companions into a side alley. “It's time to sober up. Are you ready, gentlemen?” he asked as he lifted Redeemer.
    "Oh, I suppose so,” Crest replied with deep resignation, stifling one of his mighty belches. “But it wash
    ... it was good while it