Mage Joan

"Mr. Henil, where shall we go next?"

Standing on the lively streets of Princes Harbour, Joan felt like he had returned to Leiden Harbour, and his mood was a bit complicated.

"It's not too early. Let's go to the "old man" tavern in the dock area. I have an appointment with Shrek."

Clark whistled, stopped a taxi, hailed Joan to jump in, and ordered the driver to take them to the dock.

The carriage was galloping along the flat, paved street, and within a quarter of an hour, Joan and Clark were brought to the tavern door.

The two got out of the car, Joan paid the fare, Clark pushed open the tavern door, and strode in with a head.

Whether in Port Leiden or Port Prince, the pubs on the pier are crowded and noisy, filled with spirits of spirits, tobacco and male hormones, drunken sailors cursing at each other, and occasionally set off a crowd of onlookers Bloodline Zhang Zhang had an addictive fight.

Joan has always disliked the atmosphere of the bistro, and it feels like returning to the prehistoric world. Under the stimulation of alcohol, people get rid of the shackles of reason and transform into a group of wild beasts. However, in order to accompany Clark to meet old friends, he had to endure the pub temporarily. In the filthy air and the noise of the noise.

Even if Clark's size was reduced by the spell, he was still a burly man, waving his arms gently, separating the crowd in front of him, and protecting Joan toward the bar.

Joan noticed that there was a boxing ring surrounded by a cable in the middle of the tavern. He had never seen such an interior design in the tavern in Leiden. He looked at it more out of curiosity.

Clark noticed that his footsteps were slowing down, and he smiled back and told him: "Every weekend evening, the'Old Buddy Pub' will always host a fight ring game. This boxing ring is the competition venue. When there is no game, the boxing ring is usually It is open to those guests who have a conflict after drinking to resolve their personal grievances. The drunks are wrestling on the ring and can provide other guests with some fun to drink."

"Have you participated in the weekend boxing competition held here?"

"Of course not!" Clark put a smile on his face and told Joan with a rare serious look, "I never participate in amateur boxing. For me, it's a very disrespectful behavior, man, you know I mean?"

Qiao An stunned slightly, then nodded to express his understanding.

Clark once won the championship belt of the "Meadgard Free Combat Championship", a famous professional boxer like him, if he participates in amateur community competitions in the tavern, he competes with the drunk sailors or dockers who drink. Even if all opponents are slammed, there is a decent way to win.

This is like Joan returning to Leiden College now, re-enrolling for the entrance exam and the draft conference, so that any spell can win the applause of all the tutors, scaring other candidates to worship and shout invincible, but what is this Glorious?

"The boxing ring in the tavern is not all designed for wrestling. It will also be open to talents such as street artists, street magicians, acrobats, or strippers. If you are happy, you will lose a few money." Clark pointed to the boxing ring. Opposite, "Look, that guy is holding a lute, mostly a bard, and it seems to be performing on stage."

Joan looked in the direction of his finger, and really saw a young man in a gorgeous robe, wearing a wide-brimmed hat decorated with gorgeous feathers, holding a lute on the boxing ring, taking off his hat and bowing to the audience, with a smile on his face He claimed to present a piece of music composed by himself to everyone, and received sparse applause.

Joan noticed that the young and handsome poet had a slightly bluish complexion, and the subtle features of his appearance seemed to be a bit inconsistent, and he couldn't help being curious.

"Mr. Heiner, the poet looks a little weird. If I guessed right, he probably disguised his true image with magic such as'transfiguration'."

Clark nodded with a smile: "Your eyes are very good, the guy does have a spellcasting appearance, but it hasn't changed much. It's just a foot shorter, the fangs are hidden, and the skin color is lighter. It doesn't look like it anymore. An advanced ogre."

"Higher ogres?" Joan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, that guy with the bag. The name is Casio, Shrek's court poet. Since Casio is here, Shrek must be waiting for me in this pub."

Joan nodded thoughtfully, recalling that he had heard the name Casio from the Conti family during his stay in the village of Povatan. This man had also attacked Povatan village with an army of ogres, but Joan hadn't interviewed him on the battlefield. It was not clear how deep this man was.

Thinking of the possibility that Casio could become his own treasure hunt partner, Joan couldn't help curiosity, quietly blessing himself with 2 rings of "Higher Endoscopy", and secretly observing Casio's physical attributes and professional level.

Perhaps it was because Casio's entire energy was focused on playing the lute, and he did not notice a strange look in the crowd. Joan easily broke through his will defense line and successfully obtained the intelligence he wanted.

...

Detection target: Casio (male higher ogre)

Health status: good

Extraordinary Profession: Ogre Witcher/Bard 3

Attributes: Strength 20, Dexterity 10, Constitution 18, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14, Charisma 18

...

Joan looked away quietly, his lips rising slightly.

Casio's "bard" is not high, but that doesn't mean he is a weak chicken.

In fact, Casio's strength is very strong, even if it is not comparable to a quasi-legendary man such as Clark, at least not as much as the "Queen of Jackals" Alphason.

His strength is not mainly reflected in the level of the three bards in that area, but from the racial talent of the "ogre wizard".

"Ogre Shaman" is the so-called "higher ogres", born with a powerful ability to cast spells and many supernatural abilities. Joan was very impressed with the information about the "Ogre Sorcerer" in the "Vares Monster Book".

"Brother Joan, the Casio guy's performance is really unbearable, and I heard that I'm upset. Let's stay away from him."

Clark rubbed his ears to complain.

Joan listened to what he said, and he listened to Casio's performance. He couldn't help but wonder how he could use the skillful and chic **** to pop a shrill note like steel collision on the lute, which is famous for its soft tone. A string of alternative melodies with weird chords.

Casio is not the kind of novice who can't play the rhythm. The music he plays is obviously carefully choreographed. His playing skills are superb and full of passion. The only flaw is "not good"!

His music, like a mischief carefully crafted by a rebellious naughty boy, intentionally runs counter to the musical taste of the civilian population of this era.

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