Private Tales What Can I Get You?

[Ennio]

The Last Chance Inn

"A drink?!" Ennio exclaimed, his head shaking with an untold bewilderement. "Madame, not only can I get you a drink. I can get you the perfect drink."

As he spoke the woman in front of him looked utterly dubious. She wore a silk gown that cost more than mound of treasure, the necklace around her neck alone must have been worth a small farm near Alliria, and the rings on her fingers could have paid for an education at Elbion. Her expression told a wondrous story of not entirely believing that she was here, and her hair...

Well her hair was something else. "Let me guess..."

Ennio continued with a wide, almost beaming smile. His finger gently tapped at his chin, as though he were actually considering.

"Oh yes it's so obvious. Twenty three year, Chatteux Lecreaux, Oban." The woman at the table in front of him let out a gasp, as if she couldnt quite believe the words that came out of his mouth. The wide grin on his lips became even larger.

"No! I haven't seen a bottle of that in years. It's not possible that you-"​

Before the woman could even finish speaking Ennio whirled his coat. From within he produced a bottle of wine, laces of dust still resting on the green glass. His fingers slid perfectly into place around the label, framing it so the woman would see the name perfectly. "Oh, Madame. I assure you, here you'll only be served the best."

A fan flickered out in front of the woman's face, and she began to quickly flutter it.

The two of them bandied back and forth for a few moments more before the Tavern Keeper peeled himself away. He stepped into the quiet chaos of the common room. Swiveling through the tables and listening to the minstrel's play the Ballad of the Broken Bastard. A jaunty tune which made even the rich lady sway back and forth in glee. Her wine glass held close.

Ennio paid no mind to her anymore, one customer was satisfied already.

Now it was onto the next.

He sidled up to the table, smiling wide. "And what can I get you?"

 

[Myrra]

It had taken awhile to get back into the swing of thieving, swindling, and for the few who understood the potency of her magic, intimidation. But now she was back to scraping by, living job-to-job, bouncing from one place to the next before the heat got too hot.

Part of her considered going back to The Shallows. Another considering whether she try to strike out in a new metropolis altogether. But for tonight she'd settled herself at a tavern. The kind she normally tried to avoid.

There was simply no way she'd be able to afford lodging here and the drinks would certainly be overpriced. But Myrra found that the usual spots she frequented served the kinds of liquor, ale, and wine that served only to get one drunk and for tonight Myrra wanted to drink, not get drunk.

So she'd stop off here, have a nice drink, maybe nab a purse or two, then skulk off to some hole-in-the-wall somewhere.

"Huh?" She'd been lost in thought again as the waiter made his way to her table. This place had a waiter? Talk about fancy. She'd plopped down somewhere to scope the place before she made up her mind as to what she wanted to drink and only then would she have approached the bar. No matter, she could always just default to, "a gin cocktail of some sort, please."

Plain, basic, cheap. But it'd be her first and she could think on what she really wanted.

Truth be told the drink she would've chosen, were gold no object, was one of the Mushroom Whisky's she'd had in the underground cities of the drow. It had vaguely reminded her of a past she never truly connected with and it tasted so much better than the human stuff she'd become accustomed to. But even if a place as fancy as this somehow had acquired a bottle of it there was no chance she could afford it.

No, she'd settle for a gin and tonic or a spritz or something then get a simple glass of red wine or bourbon before departing.

 

[Ennio]

"Gin, eh?" He mused out loud, running his knuckles over the stubble on his cheek. "Local?"

His head shook before Myrra could even answer. "No no, the Allirian stuff really is only fit for sailors."

Ennio lamented, though the same could be said for almost any liquor made in the great Merchant City. Here, in this glorious capitalist empire, people cared more for quantity than they did quality. If you wanted something nice you paid for it to come from somewhere else.

A tradition which many partook in, but most taverns stuck to what was cheap.

Though not The Last Chance. "I'll be right back!"

The Innkeep said as he swept away from the table, his coat fluttering as he seemed to disappeared into the crowd. Only to reappear what seemed like literally only a few seconds later, one hand clutching four separate bottles while the other contained a gaggle of glasses.

He expertly maneuvered through the crowd before practically throwing the cups in front of the young Drow.

"Four choices, we have more but honestly for a cocktail you probably don't want them." Ennio said as he began to place the bottles on the table, pairing each with a glass. "We have an Anirian Dry, classic obviously. Then we have a Genever from Kjos, tastes of lavender which can really help you sleep."

The Innkeep seemed to be speaking from experience. "Then there's Black Eagle from Teth."

He cringed slightly.

"I know, terrible place for gin making, but you'd be surprised! Almost as soon as their rum." Ennio spoke as though Myrra would both know what Teth was and why it was bad for gin making. "And lastly we have...this is a bit of a treat and honestly I probably shouldn't even be showing it to you..."

He turned the last bottle towards Myrra, revealing a label written in the native tongue of the Drow. "But my father always did say the best way to keep a customer was to show them so much kindness they feel guilty."

 

[Myrra]

It was a dizzying display to behold. One second the waiter vanished and the next he was back. Clutching multiple bottles of gin and giving her an explanation of each.

She didn't know why Teth was a poor place to make gin. It was a 'city' of rafts tied together or something so maybe sea water got in it? Either way, that one was definitely a pass.

Her heart seemed to stop for a brief second though as the final bottle was presented to her. "Qilve'ix'stet Plynn," she said in a shaky voice. Remembering some of Ysala's and Nasir's lessons to decipher the meaning, knowing that her pronunciation was off.

"How did you," no, she likely didn't want to know how it was acquired, "I'll take that. Do you know any drowish cocktails?"

Human ingredients likely wouldn't complement that gin very well but the likelihood that they had the bottle itself gave her a bit of hope. She hadn't tasted some of the fungus of the deep or the aromatics that only grew miles under the soil in over a year. Sometimes she thought back and wondered if abandoning her ancestral lands had been a mistake. She didn't belong down there but she didn't belong up here either.

The excitement was so overwhelming that she neglected to even inquire about the cost until after she'd posed her question. Although, if she couldn't afford it, she'd just scurry off. It was unlikely she'd get a proper dark elven cocktail anywhere else on the surface.

 

[Ennio]

"I thought that might be the case!" Ennio chirped quite happily, taking the three other bottles and with their companion glasses pushing them to the side of the table.

Without word or invitation the Tavernkeep slid into the seat opposite Myrra. One hand grabbing the unusual bottle while the other very gently tipped the glass besides it. With one impossible swift motion he uncorked the black ceramic, an incredibly fragrant earthy sweetness filling the air almost instantly.

"Of course I do! Of course I do!" He said genially, pouring more than a few ounces into the glass. A strangely viscous purple liquid flowing forth. "Wouldn't be much of an Innkeep if I didn't, would I."

Ennio chuckled as he began to pull out ingredients from his pockets. As though he'd known all along this was what she would ask for. "Don't see too many of your folk in Alliria."

The Innkeeper remarked as he began to work.

Two small bottles were produced first from his inner coat, both poured into the strange purple liquid. Then he plucked what appeared to be a fruit, though it's color was black and green with strange wing-like leafs protruding from it's bulbous body.

Ennio cut into it with one shockingly practiced motion, pouring some of the juice into the glass and carving out a slice of starkly white flesh. Stirring the whole mixture with a thin silver spoon pulled from his sleeve before placing the crescent of fruit on the top of the glass.

"Come up for a visit?" He asked, gently pushing the finished concoction towards Myrra.

 

[Myrra]

Myrra looked on with awe as her cocktail was constructed right before her eyes. She truthfully had no idea what the small vials of liquid were but she assumed they were some sort of liqueur or bitters or whatever the drowish equivalent of such things would be. Then came the first thing she did recognize, a ka'vica berry.

They were fairly common in the underground and had a smokey-sweet flavor.

Once the whole thing was mixed she gingerly grasped at the glass as Ennio pushed it forwards. Taking in the varied purplish liquid which had transformed into various layers of differing violet shades after it had been stirred. "I used to live in Alliria."

She said as she took a sip of the concoction and her face lit up. "This is wonderful."

For a few seconds it was almost like she was back in one of those undercity bars. Illuminated by bioluminescent fungus, strange stringed instruments and horns filling the room with a vibrato that was impossible to achieve in the aboveground. It tasted just as good, in fact better, than many of the different drinks she had enjoyed in her brief foray into her familial history.

"I came back for work," she said simply. It was a half truth, "or at least, that was the plan. I'm not so sure why I came back now that I'm here."

If one of the crews her old employer had a problem with was running things in the Shallows then Alliria would likely be dangerous for her. Perhaps she could do a bit of work and then charter a carriage elsewhere. Or maybe stowaway on a ship bound for who cared where. She took another sip of her drink.

"This really is incredible. I've not had something this good in... a long while."

 

[Ennio]

"Ahhh! A hometown girl then." Ennio said, seeming to cast no judgment or offer no question as to why she ever left.

That was her own business after all.

A wide smile crept over the Barkeeps face as Myrra complemented his drink. His rapping against the table in a quick but jaunty rhythm. "I'm certainly glad you think so! I half thought I'd forgotten the recipe."

He said with a shake of his head. "Took me nearly two years to get it in the first place."

Ennio commented, more to himself than to Myrra. Leaning back in his chair as he considered the young Drow in front of him.

"There's always work to be found in Alliria." He mused. "But I suppose you're asking yourself the question of what kind of work you want to do."

For a brief few seconds he stared at her, as if knowing something, and then added. "Have you any accommodations?"

 

[Myrra]

Interesting. How'd he even... "how did you even learn to make this?"

The question was punctuated by another long sip of her cocktail.

The flavors of the underworld were unique yet familiar to her. There was almost a magical quality to it. No, that wasn't true, she was just assigning meaning that wasn't there.

"I was raised in Elbion but I lived in Alliria for quite some time." She said honestly, "I've only been to the underground for a short amount of time." Just a brief foray before she ran back to the overworld she'd grown up to know. It was possible, considering he could make the cocktail he did, that Ennio may know things about drowish culture that even she did not.

And then the question about work and accommodations. "Work's been come-and-go lately." That was enough of an answer, no need to go into details about the unsavory things Myrra had done to get by. "I'll find a place to sleep." She certainly couldn't afford a place as prolific as this tonight but there was no shortage of cheap motels in Alliria.

 

[Ennio]

"During a visit!" Ennio seemed more than enthusiastic as he launched into the tale.

"Not from a El'Eth you understand." Perhaps it would surprise Myrra that he used the proper name for Drow, but Ennio didn't pause in his story. "I mean no offense, but they are a rather secretive folk. No, it was a Kobold that taught me truth be told."

He smiled ear to ear as he continued. "Came into the Last Chance while we were in the Underrealm, and traded the recipe for a bed to sleep in and a hot meal. Where he got it I couldn't say, perhaps from a picked pocket."

The smile turned into a smirk as Ennio continued his verbal assault. Completely glazing over the fact that apparently the Tavern Myrra now sat in had once been in the Underrealm.

"Why not here!" The tavern keeper insisted. "We have just the room. I'm sure you'd find the utmost comfort."

 

[Myrra]

El'Eth? So he was actually familiar with - wait - the Last Chance was in the Underrealm? What was a bar run predominantly by humans, so far as she could tell, doing operating in the Underrealm? Had they realized how silly that notion was and just closed up shop to move here?

"Oh, yes, kobolds tend to be very helpful," from what little she knew of her ancestral home it was likely the kobold was an escaped slave. Little other reason for kobolds to learn El'Ethian cocktails. Or at least, that was the impression she'd received.

Myrra had to resist spitting out her drink at the last of his questions. "Here?" Her mouth was ajar for a second until she chuckled. "I'm short of coin, I couldn't afford a place like this."

The quality of the fireplace alone was evidence of how fanciful The Last Chance was, to say nothing of the drinks.

 

[Ennio]

Ennio let out a laugh, not mocking in the least. "Oh my dear, what good is coin in the stead of decent company?"

He said jovially, an emotion that the Tavern Keeper seemed to run on in a near constant.

"Have you seen the lot in here tonight?" For the first time in forever Ennio pulled his cone of attention away from Myrra, his eyes flickering over the crowd. Most of them seemed to be exactly the sort one would find in a tavern like this.

The sons of rich nobleman and merchants, the daughters of the same hoping for some scandalous rumors. A few sailors here and there, but by and large...nothing to write home about. "I mean, I don't like to judge but..."

He trailed off and gestured to a nearby table.

"Like, oh my god. Did you hear about Carlotta?"

"Ugh, that bitch. She wore the same dress as you to Jezzebeths party!"

"I know! WHAT A SLUT!"​

Ennio's face slowly turned back towards Myrra, the mirth having dropped away in favor of droll annoyance.

"See what I mean?" He asked, the smile quickly returning."Share a story or two, mayhaps the a recipe for a drink, and I'll not accept a single coin from you."

 

[Myrra]

The dark elf had to refrain from laughing at both Ennio's statement combined with the timing of the aristocratic women gossiping over dresses at a party. She did, however, allow a small smile to tug at her lips.

"They're not so bad," Myrra savored a small sip inbetween words, "very easy marks." As well as fat wallets.

His proposal intrigued her more than insulting the upper strata of society did, though. Quickly her demeanor shifted slightly as the promise of sleeping in a warm bed with more than meager accommodations felt within reach. "I've never tended a bar, I'm just a very devout tourist."

Drink recipes were off the table. But stories?

"I spent a lot of time in Alliria but I grew up in Elbion," she explained with running a finger around the rim of her cocktail glass. "One night I hook up with this gang of street urchins who plan on pulling the, 'biggest heist of our lifetimes,' y'know, the sort of bravado kids with active imaginations get up to."

Her glass was pulled upwards and another small sip was taken. The thing tasted so good that she didn't want to waste even a drop of it. "So, it turns out, they're going to rob some wizard. A professor at the college. I'm the decoy, a lost drowish girl crying on his doorstep while they slip inside." She paused and raised an eyebrow, "never would've done something like this in adulthood, magic is volatile and without scoping the home out you never know what you're getting into, but hey we were all just kids."

"Anyways, I bang at the door while whipping myself into crocodile tears and the magelord answers, I'm whimpering about not being able to find my mom as Tamour, the oldest boy, tries hoisting himself into the bottom window," another sip of her drink taken, another piece of the story, "there's a loud sound, the wizard curses and slams the door on me, we all scatter but no one knows where Tamour is."

She can't stifle the laugh any longer as the story nears its conclusion, "we meet up with Tamour the next evening and his face is covered in wool, he looks like a sheep. The window was bewitched and the wizard tells him he'll be hexed for a week before shooing him out of his home."

That was the first, and only, time that Myrra ever tried to rob one of the mages in Elbion. At least, the only time she attempted it at their place of residence.

 

[Ennio]

Ennio let out a great belt of a laugh. His head shaking. "I'd never quite heard of sheep security before."

The Innkeep mused, still shaking his head.

"But perhaps I shall have to put it on the list." He gestured towards some of the windows. "I hope you at least made use of the wool!"

Ennio added with a chuckle, shaking his head.

He did always love the stories. The tales and lives that walked through his doors. It was why he had never complained about his predicament. There was something great in knowing that all who walked through the door had something to contribute, even if it was someone as vapid as the women just a few tables over.

"I think a tale and an idea such as that deserves a room fit for a Matriarch." The Innkeep said, once again using the proper terms for the Drow.

"Luckily, I have just the thing." Ennio said, pushing his chair back and gesturing towards a distant door. "Or close enough to it anyway."

 

[Myrra]

She got her giggling under control after a time. "We all thought it would be kind of gross to use the wool." She had only been around eleven or twelve at the time.

A brow cocked as he spoke of a room fit for a drowish Matriarch. He truly must have worked in the underrealm. She wasn't sure how a place like this would've moved from underneath the earth to Alliria, nor was she certain that very many dark elves would frequent a place like this, but it was impressive how well traveled the barkeep seemed to be.

"I won't turn down a warm bed," she said honestly as she rose from her seat with her cocktail still in hand.

For someone who occasionally slept atop hay in barnhouses to save coin any sort of mattress was a welcome gift. Even the awful lumpy ones with worn-out springs that many of the cheaper motels used.

Though if she were a betting elf, and truthfully she was, she assumed the lodgings at this place were far nicer than the types of human inns she typically frequented. "So," she said whilst following Ennio, "when did you re-locate from the Underrealm to Alliria? Must've been a hell of a move."

 

[Ennio]

Ennio got up from the table, still smiling as he began to lead Myrra away from the common room and towards a large set of double doors at the back of the tavern. "Shame, probably would have made a decent sweater!"

The Barkeep said with a chuckle.

As they walked through the room a few conversations fluttered to their ears. Most of them about some droll thing or another, talking about business or what the coming celebrations might be. Though a few times interesting tidbits dropped. Mentions of a war in the east, a traveling King, even talk of Giants coming down from the mountains

Ennio seemed to ignore it all. "Alliria?"

He repeated, as if in thought.

"Oh we've been here...a few weeks I think." He mused, opening the door to what seemed like an impossibly long hallway. Stretching far longer than what should have been possible with the size of the building. "The Underrealm was a few years ago, ten or twenty I think."

It was hard to remember. "Don't think we'll be going back anytime soon. Though maybe Reesh, that's a nice mid-point."

Ennio said as he held the door for Myrra to step into the hall.

 

[Myrra]

"A few weeks?" she said with a cocked brow. How often did this place re-locate? Reesh!?

Myrra's nose and lips simultaneously scrunched into peculiar shapes out as her mind raced through what this man was saying to her. "You guys just pack everything up and move whenever you want?" How did that even make sense?

I mean, it was what she did. Cause a mess somewhere and ditch the place before she found a noose around her neck.

But she was a single elf. This was an entire building. With a staff and regular customers! How could they possibly afford to make ends meet if they were constantly re-locating, constantly shuffling around! Did the entire staff travel with them like some kind of fucked up circus of alcohol?!

 

[Ennio]

"Something like that." Ennio said as he lead Myrra through a quick turns and counter turns, eventually stepping into a hallway that was far less well lit than those previous.

The torches that had been hung on the hall previous now turning into softly glowing plants.

Ennio glanced back at Myrra, offering a small smile before he continued. "The Last Chance just...likes to be where it pleases."

The truth was not something that they hid, though no one ever quite believed. Most people who stepped into the Tavern saw it for what they expected. A simple place for sleep and drink. Such an image was happy to them, welcoming. What more did they need?

Others though could see it different, for what it was.

He wondered briefly which she would be. "Ah, here."

Ennio came to a stop just a few paces short of a single door, cast in that same bio-luminescent light. Clearly crafted not of oak or any other earthen wood, but something different, something from below the depths of Arethil.

"This is your key." The Innkeep said, drawing out a darkish steel colored key. Offering it to the drow with a smile.

 

[Myrra]

"It likes to be where it pleases?" It was an inn. A building. Myrra had seen a great many things in her life. From the abject poverty on the streets of Elbion and Alliria to the wonders of the Underrealm to strange magical artifacts she'd been paid to guard.

But buildings didn't think or feel anything. They were just buildings. "It's just a building, isn't it?"

She asked right in front her room as she clasped the key that nearly matched her dark skin in one hand. Hesitantly she moved the key up towards the keyhole. If the building was alive did she need to be gentle as she turned the key to open her room? If it had feelings and wants then it could probably feel pain, right?

No. That was stupid. She was being stupid. Myrra placed the key into the door and felt the tumblers fall into place as she twisted it counter-clockwise, pushing the door open to reveal a room that looked just as nice as any of the fancy ones she'd stayed at in the Underrealm.

"Wow."

It was an involuntary reaction that wasn't meant to be stated but it was already out into the ether. She might as well elaborate on it further. "This is a very nice room." How had she been lucky enough to get to stay here for free?

 

[Ennio]

Ennio stepped inside the room just after Myrra. 'Nice' was somewhat of an understatement when it came to the decoration of the suite they now found themselves standing in. The bed was covered with fine spider silk blankets, the curtains were woven by the hand of avendrow mystics, and the desk was made of a wood found only in the darkest depths of the underrealm.

Whoever had put this room together had clearly built it for occupation by one of the Drow. Every little thought and care having gone into it, including the bath, which could be spied through an open doorway. Clearly designed to resemble the carved stone tubs favored by the El'eth in their own homes. "Oh, the Chance is so much more than a building."

Ennio said with a smile, pulling back just a little more of the curtain.

"Though just what it is..." He said, walking around the perimeter of the room as if inspecting things. "I couldn't really say."

The innkeep turned back to his guest with a wide beaming smile. "One of the mysteries of the world, I think."

He looked around the luxury of the room. "But a pleasant one."

 

[Myrra]

This place was getting stranger and stranger the more Ennio spoke.

Not only was her room a spitting image for what she imagined would be a "luxury drowish hotel room," but the building apparently did have a will of its own. And it just decided to up-and-leave every so often. Must've made it very difficult for them to end up having any regular customers.

"It's always pleasant?" she asked hesitantly as she tested a palm on the bed. The mattress was made from a miraculous fungi-like substance in the Underrealm. It didn't decay, didn't smell, and the feel of it was wondrous. It practically formed itself to one's own body.

She was going to sleep so very soundly tonight. Unless of course... "it never takes you places you'd rather not be?" Re-locating to the Ixchel Wilds would be a bit of a jarring scenario she thought.

Hopefully the Chance wouldn't re-locate itself tonight. Or if it did hopefully it wasn't somewhere barren or in a slaver's camp in Cerak.

 

[Ennio]

"There's no place in the world the Chance isn't welcome." Ennio said with a bright beaming smile. Completely ignoring the fact that less than five minutes ago he'd been talking about how Myrra's own people had been less than welcoming to the Tavern.

Reality it seemed, did not stick around long in a place like this.

"Although there was that one time with the Naga." He said with a frown, as though suddenly caught with a thought. "Took ages to dry out all the linen!"

Ennio said with a loud chuckle, apparently already forgetting all the unpleasantness in an instant. His attention turning back towards Myrra.

"Not to worry yourself though." He explained with a more pleasant smile. "The Chance doesn't kidnap people."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "It just takes you where you want to go."

Even if you didn't know where that was.

 

[Myrra]

"You wanted to go to the Underrealm?"

A white eyebrow cocked upwards as she looked with a puzzling glance. She let the Naga comment gloss over as she was far more interested in why one might wish to go to the Underrealm. "Regardless, I'm glad to know that it doesn't kidnap people."

Myrra would sleep a bit easier that night if she knew she wasn't going to suddenly pop up in Vel Anir or the Isles of Sheketh when she awoke.

If Ennio's words were correct then she wouldn't poof anywhere. She was happy to stay in Alliria, at least for now, and she didn't have anywhere she truly wished to go. Sure, there was a part of her that wanted to re-connect with her ancestral home but she'd been utterly unaware of that world until a year ago.

Still, she hoped that she'd awake right back in Alliria. If nothing else than so she could still feel some semblance of control over her life.

 

[Ennio]

Ennio slowly walked around the room, inspecting some of the furniture and even the floor as though he had never seen it before. The tavernkeep seemed almost inextricably interested in his surroundings, and the reason why were slowly becoming clear.

He had either not seen it before, or so rarely that he'd forgotten all about it.

"Of course!" Ennio said in answer finally, a smile dawning on his face as he returned his attention to Myrra. "A whole other world of people, places, things?"

A whistle escaped his lips. "It was an absolutely fascinating couple of weeks."

Admittedly the Underrealm had not been on his own list of places to see, but the Chance knew better than he did. In the end he had enjoyed the brief stint of their stay. After all they had only nearly gotten killed three times.

That wasn't so bad. "But anyway, I should leave you to your rest."

He said, heading back towards the door. "A good innkeeper knows when it's time to leave."

 

[Myrra]

Myrra listened to his answer intently, studying every aspect of what the tavern keeper said.

His experience hadn't been so different from her own. Though her skin and features told a different story she'd been raised as if she were a human. Culturally speaking, she felt human. Her first foray into the Underrealm had been precisely the same. Delving into another world, another culture.

It was like viewing the world for the first time back when she was a child. Infinite wonder and possibilities.

Ennio, however, was a diligent host that didn't bother elaborating beyond that. He was kind and offered her the rest that her body likely craved even if her mind wished to ask a dozen more questions about his experiences in the underground world she'd left behind.

"Good night," she said simply as she shifted into the bed before her. There was little doubt that she'd pass into unconsciousness within moments of Ennio's departure.

 

[Ennio]

By the time morning rolled around the soft pitter patter of rain resounded upon the roof top. A sound that seemed almost foreign in such a room that Myrra slept in.

The scent of cooking sausages, maple syrup, and delights that those in the overworld could only dream of drifted through the entirety of the Last Chance Inn. No sound carried all the way to where the half-drow slept. the room dull to sound, but not scent.

It was a quiet, calm sort of morning.

The sort most nobles would pay fortunes for to experience every morn.