Fable - Ask Never A Peaceful Drink

[Ispir Sione]

Outskirts of Alliria - The Slumbering Dragon Inn


Ispir was in the middle of performing for a more remote tavern outside of Alliria, the sun just barely past mid-day, the sound of gentle piano music rolling through the Slumbering Dragon like the gentle lapping of ocean waves that just barely kissed at one's feet upon a warm, sandy shore. The Slumbering Dragon, attached to a relatively small farming community that fed Alliria proper, was experiencing quite the boom in business as the Grand Tournament of Tides was underway. Travel too and from Gild, the Spine, Vel Anir and Fal'Addas was even making this comparatively humble tavern quite a bit of coin.

The soft flickering of candlelight would whip and whisper soft promises of flame every time the tavern staff passed by. Drink flowed in abundance. People laughed and exchanged stories, cards and drinks in genuine shows of hospitality and comradery. All in all it was a peaceful, normal day within The Slumbering Dragon. So much so that famous, infamous or otherwise outstanding company could join the merrymaking without any fuss or fighting from the locals.

In fact the barkeep, a human man with a bald head, large grey moustache, rugged stubble and a generally friendly smile would greet any who entered The Slumbering Dragon with a kind wave and offer for their first drink to be half-off. The prosperity of the tavern of late seemingly emboldening a generous spirit.

Erën
Toruuk Stoneheart ​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

Spoiler: music~

---

Living from Inn to Inn had never been easy, but after Fane, it was better to stay moving even if close by. And so it was that Lilette entered the Slumbering Dragon, turning heads at the sight of her white and blue vestments, all constellations of the celestialist pantheon embroidered upon them in silver thread.

She paid them no heed, for her mercurial eyes gained on her pointed ears as they followed the familiar chime of sweet ivory.

Lilette found herself wandering the crowd at only a few notes, the crowd itself quickly forgetting her odd figure as they too were drawn to the source. Pale little fingers twitched to the rhythm in ghostly synchronicity as muscle remembered what the mind forgot--she knew this song.

Yes, it was coming back now, a ballroom long ago.

Her brother's wedding, she must have-

Despite everything that led to this very moment, she... smiled.

Not that thin little politician's smile she gave everyone, her lips curved like the twin moons in crescent phase.

The crowd faded from notice until only she and the little musician remained, save perhaps the faint memory of lights through stained glass, and the gilded dresses of elvish ladies from across the falwood.

She wandered so close--nearly part of the act--enough to reach for home, if she dared.

---

Ispir Sione Erën Toruuk Stoneheart​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Lilette's little daydream would be suddenly interrupted by a heavy clap on the back, the open palm of the nine-and-a-half-foot minotaur she'd somehow managed to miss whilst wandering up to the stage. He loomed over her from behind, and though imposing, the beast radiated an air of affability that was almost tangible.

"Wohoho! Didn't expect to see a Celestialist in a bar tonight! Pretty sure the Champ's heard a few jokes that lead off like this, just need to find ourselves a Radiant and an Annunaki and we're all set!" the massive bull bellowed jovially. The friendly pat would turn into him carefully pinching a bit of fabric on the back of her raiment and tugging the woman back slightly.

"Hey, hey, let's give the little bard some space, yeah. You musta had a few sips already if you're goin' for him like that, eh missy? Wohoho! Don't you worry, Toruuk won't tell no one! Might have to have a few with the Champ though if ya really wanna buy my silence!"

Another loud chuckle boomed from his chest, then the bull reached down into a pouch on his belt and dug out a coin, which he flicked of his thumb to Ispir with a sharp ping.
"Speaking of: hey, kiddo! How 'bout you play somethin' a little more upbeat, huh? It's a tavern, not a funeral, oh yeah!"

 

[Nico]

At a table near the stage, a thin man had been likewise absorbing the spritely pianist’s tune, attempting to discern whether the notes were born of genuine skill or enchantment. He could hardly fault the elf for her being enthralled.

When a shadow fell across his drink, the man’s dark features looked up. And up. Until his vertebrae ached from meeting the behemoth’s eyes.

“The lady seems invested in hearing the finish,” the Valenntenian said to this Toruuk, gesturing toward the moon-pale woman. “But I’ll stand you a drink while we wait for the encore.” He slid an Anirian silver across the table and waved for the barkeep. “I confess I wasn’t expecting to meet a minotaur in … well, anywhere. Nico Du’Raki.”

He nodded to include the elf and minstrel, thankful for a reason to relieve his craning neck.

From somewhere in the rafters, the keenest of ears might’ve heard the rustle of wings over the exuberance of the patrons.