Private Tales Speaking of Taverns

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Forseti Trygg

The Spiraling Winter
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It was a quiet night in the Bears' Den, with only a few patrons sitting at tables scattered across the room. The night was warmer than most, and half of Faarin was out hunting. The scattered customers were mostly visitors to the town. Seti grinned to himself as he wiped down a glass and watched the flames in the fireplace flicker. He prefered busy nights, when his regulars and friends would talk to him, but quiet nights gave him time to reflect. He set the glass down and started wiping off the counter.
 
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Cold winds howled, but that was just the way of the world so far north. Like a drop of blood, splashed and on the run, red robes and a red crown bobbed through the white wastes beyond Faarin, and a black cloak snapped in with each gust. Every slow jerk of muscle which set legs to trudge through thick snow fall, came with a harsh ring of many bells.

"What in the blue hells," a Nord hunter asked, as she peered from beneath her cloak. "Oy, Olen, you seein this?" she jabbed him with her elbow.

Olen scowled, and jerked his head toward the lady hunter. "Come on now, Nora, how am I supposed to catch us anything if- " his eyes caught the hint. Movement. Stark and loud and long in the night. "The fuck is that?"

"Should we... should we stop it?" Nora asked, some measure of fear in her voice as she raised a finger and traced it toward the direction of Faarin. "It's makin its way into town I think."

"I..." he gripped his bow as the figure went on, long step after long step. "Lets get back and tell the others."

Nora nodded, and slung her own bow. "Let's go around the bastard, and keep low. Lest it spot us."

---

The door of the Bear's Den came open hard and with a crash of wood against wood. "Oy! There's some giant freak makin there way into-" Olen's words died in his throat.

Bells chimed light and bright on the wind that swept through the open door, and a tall horned figure stood behind Olen and Nora.

"Oh, a freak you say?" Came a high strung voice from behind a twisted mask.

Olen turned quick, a hand to his knife, but Nora braced him and ushered him back. "He's got steel on him," she whispered in his ear.

A low laugh came from behind the pale mask of the tall jester clad in red.
 
Seti startled as the door slammed open. He stood up, hand on his axe's handle, and started making his way over to the door. He served drinks and did general maintenance, but his first and foremost job was to keep the bar safe. The scattered clients looking up warily but not bothering to move.
"Is there a problem here?" He asked, looking at the three figures in the doorway. As his eyes meet the jester's, a chill ran down his spine and his teeth sharpened as he kept his Svalen close to the surface.
 
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Eyes of silver fire found the other nordling, hand wrapped around his weapon, and his blood run high. "A problem?" The tall jester repeated, and his eyes smiled with cat-like intent. "I see no problem greater than a lack of hospitality," his voice was hard and thin as a knife.

A stir of hands, a dramatic snap of his cloak, and the Jester revealed his instrument, a timeless lyre, made from bone, with strings that shined and shimmered with the golden dance of candle light. He strummed a chord, bright, cool, easy as the moonlight.

"Do you have such disdain for performers here, in old Faarin?" Another chord, minor and somber.
 
Seti relaxed a bit, took his hand from his axe, and moved aside so they could come in.
"You have a talent, jester." He smiled and extended his hand for the Jester to shake. "As long as you don't break anything and pay your tab, anyone is welcome here."
 
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A low and throaty laugh rumbled behind the jester's mask, a sound hot like a distant storm, and his long gloved fingers plucked a quick fanfare from the strings of his lyre. Bright with triumph.

"My thanks, tavern master," he said with a slight bow of his head, and the bells upon his crown did ring. He stepped into the establishment with long graceful steps, and found his way to a corner of the room, near the fire, where he sat upon a stool and plucked at his instrument, sweet and searching was the sound that came.

Olen neared closer to the bartender. "Oy, Fors, that... thing, it gives me the willies, I don't think it wise to just let him sit here with us, nor to have him here in our town for that matter."

Nora grabbed Olen's shoulder, and nodded to Forseti with agreement. "Ayy, strangers are already hard enough to trust, but that one?" she asked, suspicion in her voice.

They made little effort to hide their conversation. But the masked jester just went on tuning his tool.
 
Seti nodded at the Jester as he walked away, then turned to Olen and Nora with a furrowed brow.
"He makes me nervous, alright, but he hasn't done anything wrong. As long as he behaves himself, I can't throw him out. Anyway, we can't judge a rabbit by its hide. He may seem like trouble, but some of my best friends are faefolk."
He reached behind the counter and pulled out three glasses.
"You want anything?" He said, pouring himself a beer.
 
Olen's brow pinched, and he grumbled some. His eyes cut a glance at the red horned performer, stretched out in their chair while they plucked stray tunes that drifted through the air, silvery and cold they came from his lyre. "It's not his hide," he muttered and followed after the bartender. "It's them bloody eyes,"

Nora nodded her agreement, and sat at the counter. "I'll have what your havin."

Olen settled down on a stool, and slumped some. "I'll have a spirit, whiskey if you will," he said, and shook his head. "Bloody red clown, had us runnin all the way back with no quarry to show for it."

As if on cue, the Jester's tune turned bright, sing song with chords in major. His voice broke out in song.

Come rabbit come wolf, for the snow grows too deep,
Run fast, run free, for the winter does keep,

A rabbit run round, a wolf chased after,
back to the burrow, the rabbit ran faster

Stay, did the wolf, in the snow grown so steep
Licking his teeth, for those bunnies he peeped


The lyre teased and danced, and the tune ran happy and mad.

"Oy! Piss off with that!" Olen barked from the bar.

The jester laughed, but made no effort to stop his playing.

Nora put a hand on Olen's shoulder. "Come now, its not so bad," she half smiled. "Kind of a nice ring to it,"

"He's mockin' us, Nora," Olen grit his teeth. "Can't you tell? He's laughin cuz we brought no catch,"

Nora shook her head, "He had no part in that, Olen..."

"Bah, like hells he didn't."
 
Seti poured out their drinks, and watched the Jester as he played, half listening.
"The hunting has been bad lately, I can't catch anything bigger than a shek rabbit." He took a drink, and pushed the drinks over the counter. "That's why I'm working here. Most nights I'm out in the woods." One of the tipsier patrons shattered a glass, and started to threaten a friend. Seti sighed, stood up, and grabbed the offending customer. He dragged them to the door and pushed them out, then walked back over to the bar.
"Sorry about that, sometimes they get rowdy."
 
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Olen took the drink in his large hand, and stared down at its amber contents, his expression flat, his body deflated.

Nora smiled and took the beer. "Thanks, Seti," and she watched as the young bartender moved off to throw out one of the drunker folk. When he came back, she nodded. "It's in the blood," she said with some pride in her voice. She offered a toast to the bar-tender and her hunting partner. "To better days, and better hunts,"

Olen sighed, and took up the toast. "To better days and better hunts," he mumbled.

The Jester's song went on in the background, the strings run and repeat the same progression. They bled out their sound, and made felt the thrill of a chase.

Come rabbit come wolf, for the snow grown so deep,
Run fast, run free, for the winter does keep.


Some of the other patrons sang along, drunkenly.

Out came the rabbit, scurry and fly,
and off went the wolf, with teeth it did try.

Out through the snow, both bodies did run,
All through the night, till moon turned to sun.

Pray great wolf, what do you say,
we end this game, and call it good day?

Laugh did the wolf, its fangs gleaming bright,
Nay I say, sweet meaty delight
Nay I say, I'd rather we fight.


Olen tossed back his pour of whisky, no joy in his consumption. He let out a hot breath and let the tin cup clack hard against the counter. His brow still pinched. "I can't stand this bastard," he fumed, voice more irate.

Nora's head bobbed along with the tune, and she even seemed to hum it as she drank.

More of those scattered about started to sing with the song. And one large black bearded fellow growled, and shoved another hard. His friend who sat near, guffawed, but the one who was shoved didn't take to kind to the gesture and slugged the black bearded fellow right in the jaw.

The Jester kept playing.
 
Seti growled and stood up, his form starting to grow and fur starting to grow on his arms. The other Norden in the bar also started showing signs of their Svalen. He stomped over to the fighting pair, and shoved them both out the door, getting a black eye in the prosess. After slamming the door, he turned to the Jester.
"You're quite the player, Jester, so I'll let you go this time. But there's a rule in this Den, no magic." He gestured to a sign on the wall that proclaimed 'No Magic" in a strange font. "And the rest of you, watch yourselves. Anger magic isn't pretty if you let it get a hold of you." He bared his teeth threateningly, and went behind the bar again. "You all okay?"
 
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The jester smiled wide behind his mask, wide enough that his eyes crinkled happily at the bartender's warning. His fingers kept playing, and he did not but nod to the nordling, stretched as he was in his seat, long and languid, his tune went on.

Come rabbit come wolf , for the snow grown so deep,
Run fast, run free, for the winter does keep,

Prowl did the wolf, outside of the den,
Cry did the rabbit with no way to end

Dear rabbit, cried the wolf, I tire I do
Dear rabbit, he whined, I long for you,

Thump did the rabbit, from dark burrow deep
Piss off, ye wolf, my shit you can eat!


The strings ran up in triumph, and the crowd did cheer. Some laughed, and others went on with the song.

"Fine enough," Olen added, and tapped a finger to the counter. "Though I'll have another if you will,"

Nora nodded, and smiled and drank from her cup. "It's an odd melody, ain't it?" She looked at the sinister form of the jester, whose red horns cast long shadows against the wall. "How do you think it ends?"

"Pah, who cares, bunch o nonsense it is," Olen grumbled.
 
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Seti snorted, took another sip, and started cleaning up from the fight. He still had a bit of fur on his arms, but that was receding quickly.
"Nonsense or not, the crowd's enjoying it," They grinned a bit at the laughing patrons as they swept the ground. "And the more they're enjoying themselves, the more i can drink. You want refills?"
 
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Olen nodded. "Aye, and make it a double, if you'd be so kind."

Nora shook her head. "Can't be blaming the jester if you wake up with a splitting headache come mornin'"

"Like hells I can't!" he grumbled. "I blame the jester for the boils on me ass too," he hooted, pleased with himself.

Nora wasn't as impressed.

Come rabbit come wolf, for the snow grown so deep,
Run fast, run free, for the winter does keep,

Pace back and pace forth, the wolf surely did
Peek out and and run free, the rabbit did dread,

Come now dear rabbit, come now i plea,
My stomach does rumble and my pups need to feed

So thump did the rabbit, foot pound gainst the ground
So loud was the sound that a bear came around!


At the mention of the bear came a great cheer. Drinks raised up with pride, sloshed and spilled on the ground.
 
Seti grinned, and started pouring the amber liquid into Olen's cup. As he started nodding along to the Jester's music, the door opened and a cold wind rushed in. A tall Black Shuck in their humanoid form stepped in, shut the door behind them, and walked over to the bar.
"Hello, Set. New friends?" They sat down, the routine familiar.
"There almost always are, Duwein. The usual?" He responded, smiling at the wanderer. They nodded back at him, and he passed over a bottle that wasn't any alcohol the others could identify. "Nora, Olen, this is Duwein. Duwein, this is Nora and Olen. You know the other regulars, and that one there," he pointed at the Jester, "Hasn't given us a name."
 
Olen grumbled and took up the cup as the newcomer had their seat. "How'd you do," he croaked, and lifted the cup up to greet them before he took a long sip of the whiskey without really looking at them.

"Well met, Duwein," Nora nodded warmly to them, but her eyes adjusted to the site of them, and noticed their odd skin, and their piercing features. "Are you, are you a fae?"

Come rabbit come wolf, for the snow grown so deep,
Run fast, run free, for the winter does keep!

Come bear, come wolf, good friends you should be
And let this old rabbit sleep restfully!

Howl did the wolf, with a snarl of teeth
Roar did the bear, and their claws did unsheath

All through the day, the two beasts did fight
Till moon shined above, and the stars burned so bright!

Come rabbit, come bear, for the snow grown so deep,
The wolfs gone away now, and all can catch sleep


So sleep did the rabbit, in its dearest den,
Till bear grew quite hungry and brought it its end.

Come bear come bear, with belly so full,
Sleep soundly, sleep sweet, and feel winter's pull~

"Oy, did you hear that?" Olen asked Nora and the other, and took another long sip of his drink before he put the cup on the table and laughed some. "The damn bear ate them both!" he smiled wide and bared his yellow teeth.

The crowd cheered and laughed and clapped. Glad the bear who came in the end, triumphed over rabbit and wolf. the jester laughed behind his mask and stood before the crowd. His tall languid frame loomed over most, and when he bowed his bells did ring.

"I rather like that song," Olen went on muttering to himself, and took another drink.
 
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Duwein took a sip from their drink and nodded at Nora.
"Well met, you two. And yes, I am fey." Their eyes wandered to the Jester. "And so is he, by the looks of it." They fiddled with a charm they wore on their wrist, and turned back to Seti.
"He's new here," Seti supplied. "He's entertaining the patrons, and he hasn't broken anything, but I'm pretty sure he did some magic earlier. I'm keeping an eye on him." He turned and started serving a customer who had come up to the bar.
"You two know anything about him?" Duwein asked the two sitting at the bar.
 
Nora blinked, eyes still locked on Duwein. She did not look as comfortable as she had but a moment ago. "You, you're a fae?" he had said it so nonchalantly. Her eyes followed the creatures, and saw the jester. "And he's a fae?"

Olen didn't seem to mind either way, too busy sipping on his drink and humming the tune the jester had played.

When the newcomer's question came, Nora sat petrified. Fear wide in her eyes. There were many kinds of fae in this world. And most were bad news, from what she had heard. Especially in this part of the world, so close to the Winter Court. So, she kept quiet, and turned back to face Seti. He seemed calm, like nothing was wrong. So, things were probably fine.

Olen gunted, and hmphed, and took the last sip of his drink. "Oy, Seti, another one when you can please," he said. Then turned to the newcomer, raised a brow, and squint suspiciously at him, "You a fae, and he's a fae, you say?" He began with a heat to his voice. He turned to stare at the Jester, who sat long in his chair and tuned his lyre, that ever painted smile twisted on his face. "Don't know a damn thing about him, other than that he's a real freak of a man. Just look at im, sittin there, all freak like."

As if on cue, the Jester stood, set his lyre down near his chair, and began to scoop up the coins of copper and silver, even a couple of gold that had been tossed in his direction. And he laughed a giddy laugh before he made his way to the bar. "I'll have what he's having," he said, with a long finger pointed at Duwein, but he did not make to remove his mask. Not yet.
 
Duwein took another swig from their bottle, and nodded in Nora's direction.
"Black Shuck, to be precise. No court affilation." and to Olen, a noncommitial hum of agreement. At the Jester's approach and request, Seti grabbed another bottle from the back and slid it over.
"It's going to be expensive," he warned the Jester, pouring yet another drink for Olen. Duwein shifted their gaze to the Jester, and something changed in their eyes.
"Well met, Jester. Can I have your name?" They flashed a sharp, almost predatory smile.
 
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Nora sipped nervously at her drink and Olen grumbled recognition. "Well, figured you weren't no winter court bastard, crazy as those lot are, they don't dare show their faces round Faarin proper they don't." he nodded in thanks to Forseti. "Thank ye kindly," he said, then drank deep of his drink.

The jester's eyes squinted happily at the mention of expense. "No trouble, dear tender, just name your price," his voice was flowery, slick and warm, like tea with an extra spoon of honey. When came the question of a name, his eyes narrowed to dagger points, and his glare struck to the other fae, who proudly bore their fangs. "Jester is fine," he cooed, though there was a venom there in his tone. "Ten-fingers, Ten-toes, Red-horn, Red-Bell, White-mask, or Fred, are among the many names I've been called, and among the names you may call me."

"Fred?!" Olen replied, with amused amazement. "Now what kind of name is that for a jester eh?" He barked a laugh. "Gods above and the White King's wind,"

The Jester's eyes whipped toward the ruddy hunter. "Fred, like a friend," he said sweetly, then his eyes whipped back to the bottle. With a long fingered hand, still gloved, he grasped for the bottle of wine. "What vintage is this?" He asked as he took up the glass, and examined it with his scrutinizing stare. "Quite the rare bottle indeed," he chuckled, low and to himself, and the sound was like the low rumble of thunder, far and away as it rolled across the sky.
 
"Yer wecome," Seti nodded at at Olen, at turned to the Jester. "Depends on what you can pay. I'll take magic, gold, and favours." His voice was amitable, and he smiled at the Jester. He chuckled a bit to himself at the false polite fighting of the fae as Duwein bared their fangs. Duwein took another drink, and their smile slipped into something more real.
"I've also had many names, Jester. The one you can use for me is Duwein," They purred. "Seti, I've got a catch if you want to buy." They pulled out a bag that seemed to exude cold.
"Not fair, Duin! Wolves have better luck here these days hunting. The animals know to avoid bears," He grumbled good-naturedly at the fey. "Give it here." He threw a couple of silver coins at Duwein as they got a couple rabbits out of their strange bag and handed them over.
"Jester, you a hunter?" Seti asked.
 
The jester looked at the bar tender with thin, gleeful eyes.

"Hunt is a matter of need for me, indeed, but never sport nor trade I say," he sing songed, "Gold comes and gold goes," he said, airy and light, and plucked a few sun-colored coins from his purse, three in total, one between each knuckle of his finger. He rolled them across his hand, disappearing each in turn. "Name your price, bar-tender," he said, firm and dark as he fanned five coins out between pinched fingers.

A quick flick of the wrist saw them all gone, and his bells did jingle, bright and distracting.
 
Seti smiled at the Jester, wiping down the bar.
"Well done, Jester. Five gold for the whole bottle." He pulled out a box that seemed to be serving as a cash register. Duwein, looking up from their bottle, lazily made eye contact with Seti.
"Oi, I'm feeling a little tetchy in this form. Can i have an invitation to go out back?" They grunted. Seti snorted.
"Can't keep a humanoid form together for five minutes, huh?" He good-naturedly teased. "Duwein, i invite you to go out the back. Remember to at least look human when you get back." Duwein grumbled at him under their breath, but they were grinning as they stood up and made their way to the back door. Seti turned to the others. "If you want to take your Svalen, or whatever the equivalent is for the rest of you, you gotta go out back."
 
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Eyes of bright star-fire squinted and narrowed, happy. "One," he counted aloud, as he rolled his right wrist and produced a coin in his hand, 'Two," he said as he gestured long and sharp with his left and out popped a second.

Olen's eyes went wide as the twinkle of new gold caughth is eye, and he stared as he sipped from his drink.

"Three," he called as he spread a second from behind the coin pinched in his right,

Even Nora looked one from behind the beer mugged clutched in her hands.

"Four!" he called out as he flipped the coin from his right with a bright ping of his thumb that sent one coin sailing towards his left and saw a new coin there in his hand, He clapped his hands together quick, caught the flying coin with a loud slap and a metal clink, and when he pulled them apart, "Five," he said with a smokey glee. Five coins fell from his hands and rang bright against the counter as they gleamed with candle light, bright with fire.

Nora was wide eyed, and Olen grumbled, and finished off his drink. After the long gulp, he wiped his lips clean and stood up. "I'm getting to old for this shit," he muttered. "I'ma go get some air with that other one," he anounced with a wave of his meaty hand. "Be back in a moment."

The Jester took up the bottle, uncorked it with long dainty fingers, and brought it up to the chin of his mask, where he pealed the seal ever so forward with his other hand. An eerie, pale blue and while light seemed to pour from the space beneath the mast, ever so feint. He raised the mouth of the bottle up to the crack in the mask, and he inhaled, a deep and sharp breath.

A laugh, excited and giddy. "Titillating," he said, voice electric. "How did you come about this bottle, bar-tender?" his voice seemed to purr, and he poked the bottle into the glimmering void beneath his mask. He tilt his head back, and sipped from the bottle.

Should anyone pear into the space revealed by his doing so, they might see a trace of his jaw, and skin that was dappled, dark with stars and hues of blue, like the night sky before a long winter night.