Open Chronicles You Meet In A Tavern [Alliria]

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Kara Orin

Elbion College
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Evening settled on the City of Alliria. Magic lamps and burning torches lit the calm roadways of the Outer City. At this hour, merchant stalls sat empty and without anyone in attendance. Ladies of leisure called to men walking down a crimson hued street.

Near this street, chattering leaked from a tavern. A mix of stone and wood formed the worn-out walls. A warm, orange light shined through the windows and cracks in the front door. A crooked sign hanged from one hook above the entrance.

STUTTGARDEN

Inside the tavern, the smell of tobacco filled the air. Not a single seat remained vacant and several patrons stood around the bar and tables. The racket of everyone talking and cheering made it difficult to hear even those just a few feet away. The sound of the orcish bard’s flute barely made it past a few feet. The barmaids struggled keep up with the flood of orders.

A mix of Outer City residents made up the tavern-goers. Blacksmiths, merchants, tailors, and others that made a living within the Outer Wall. Now finished with their work, their purses were full of gold to spend.

A few guests from outside the city sat among them. One of them – Kyver – held a lively conversation with a group of six thuggish-looking dwarves. He held a half full mug of ale in one hand. Kyver pounded the table with his fist and suddenly stood up.

SLAM

Again, with a smile.

BANG BANG

HEY! HO!-“ roared Kyver.

-TO THE BOTTLE I GO!” the dwarves sung in unison, not missing a beat.

This caught the attention of the other patrons. The dwarves stood up as well – some standing on the benches and chairs.

Then Kyver and the dwarves continued, swaying as they sung, “TO HEAL MY HEART AND DROWN MY WOE!

Glasses shot to the air. Others beyond Kyver and the dwarves joined.

RAIN MAY FALL AND WIND MAY BLOW,” the drunken melody continued.

Ale began to splash everywhere – tragically escaping mugs before someone could drink it.

BUT THERE STILL BEEEEEEEE MANY MILES TO GO!

At that point, nearly everyone in the Stuttgarden sang. Just a few of the outsiders remained tight lipped – yet they gladly joined in the cheering and kept a beat going with their glasses.

SWEET IS THE SOUND OF THE POURNING RAIN
AND THE STREAM THAT FALLS FROM HILL TO PLAIN
BETTER THAN RAIN OR RIPPLING BROOK

IS A MUG OF BEER INSIDE THIS CROOK!

A cheer and the clanging of mugs followed. The dwarves and Kyver chugged the rest of their beers. Many followed suit as well.

As soon as the last drop fell from the mug, Kyver slammed it down and yelled, “BARWENCH, MORE BEEEEER!
 
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Aalina was no stranger to the tavern atmosphere. She had at one time embraced it with her fellow City Watch. The boisterous singing after days both good and bad coupled with the gambling of gold over who held the stronger tolerance for ale. She even missed the fights that broke out after someone had a few too many, and spoke the wrong words to one another. Now though? It was merely a place to dull her senses and forget about her misfortune for a few brief hours.

Thankfully the tavern never turned away a paying customer, unlike many of Alliria that now snubbed their noses at her.

The woman had been a former guard of Alliria Keep, though not a recognized knight. That title was reserved for the more affluent members. That is, before one of her own had betrayed both her and the City Watch, branding her a traitor and a thief, and condemning her to public punishment as well as time spent in a cell like a caged animal.

One of the few to notably not join in on the singing, cheering, and general celebratory display, Aalina sat miserably staring at the gaggle of dwarves perched atop their benches, beating their chests and spilling their ale, while their human conductor led them in song. The mug in her hand had all but droplets of ale remaining. The repetitive motion of raising and lowering the drink to her lips all but forgotten until the moment it ran dry. Twas then that the woman remembered she was still in fact, on duty. Though the armor she wore no longer bore the sign of Alliria's City Watch, she was a hired guard for a rather influential and derisive man.

A merchant by trade, but one who dealt in illicit goods within secretive markets. The man had enemies no doubt, and the need for a skilled sword by his side came with a price. Aalina pocketed fair coin, paid on a weekly basis, and swore her loyalty to the man without question, as was their contract. In her return to reality, green eyes stared down at the empty mug in disappointment. Typically when she entered these sorts of establishments it was on her own time. Thus, she needed to maintain the appearance of drinking, while remaining vigilant of threats to her contract's life. He was to meet another fellow, some foreign name she paid little mind to, but trouble was always to be expected, and thus for now, the sellsword watched the crowd.

Kyver
 
Another round of ale made it to the dwarves and Kyver. The blonde elven barmaid must have carried at least five mugs in each hand. Kyver and the dwarves erupted into a roar at the site of the beer and cheered. With glee, Kyver dropped a coin into the barmaid’s bosom then grabbed two glasses.

CHEERS, YA BLOODY IDIOT,” one of the dwarves said as he raised his stein in a toast.

CHEERS!” Kyver and the other dwarves said as their glasses clanged once again.

Kyver took a large gulp. Then, he raised his arm in the air and began to chant, “DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!

A few patrons surrounding Kyver chanted with him as he looked around the tavern. More drunken singing ensued. Arm wrestling began. One pair of the dwarves began taking shots.

Suddenly, Kyver stood next to a merchant with a wide, drunken grin on his face. Specifically, it was the merchant Aalina Eder guarded. He and the dwarves were just a few feet away during their drunken songs. He swayed back and forth. His balance seemed uneasy.

TO OLSA'S BEAUTY” he yelled as he stretched his mug out.

A woman of the aristocracy in Alliria, Olsa was something like a celebrity among the commoners. Rumors of whether or not she was courting anyone were commonplace.

Aalina’s empty mug reflected off Kyver’s eyes. Kyver did not wait for the merchant’s response to his toast.

AAAHAAAHH!!!!” screamed Kyver as the second ale he held shot forward and whacked Aalina’s stein.

Then whether willing or not, Kyver wrapped one arm around the merchant while laughing and tapped the beer he was still drinking upon the merchant’s drink.
 
The door fairly blew open, giving way to the thrusting arms of a giant of a man. Thick and wavy hair the color of harvest wheat tumbled past his shoulders. Eyes of a deep and merry blue surveyed the tavern. He wore a white tabard with the sigil of a red winged beast in flight.

The Anirian swept aside his crimson cape, much stained by the road, and called for ale. No sooner did he ask than a barmaid shoved a frothing tankard into his hand. In Alliria, it seemed, folk with coins to rub together wanted for naught.

He hastily drained half the tankard, leaving flecks of foam upon a well-trimmed beard, then spotted the band of dwarves. Dwarves were known for being fine drinking companions, although it seemed they currently beset those seated at yonder table.

"What news from Belgrath?" He called to them, hale voice resounding easily 'bove the tavern's thrum.

Kyver Aalina Eder
 
STILL A DUNNNNG HOLLLE!” answered the lead dwarf.

The dwarves all wore leather armor. Their weapons dangled from their belts. The lead dwarf sported a black beard that stretched halfway down his body.

FWAP!

An arm wrestling match between two other dwarves just finished. The winner – a lady dwarf with red hair – flexed as she received cheers from onlookers.

YA BIG FOR A HUMAN,” the dwarven leader said to Godfrey, “BUT I DUNT THINK YOU CAN BEAT BERLINDA!


Thronebreaker
 
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Emerald eyes shot a wicked glance towards Kyver as he latched on to her charge. The woman stiffened, though Telfred gave her a dismissive hand waive to settle her back into her seat just before the human continued his off key chanting and praising.

Of all the places to deal in trade of contraband, a tavern full of patrons seemed downright idiotic to her. Telfred disagreed however, arguing that dealing in plain sight drew less attention than skulking about in the dark. Sure it made sense in theory, but what was more likely? The chance of being caught in the dark? Or someone happen to wander their eyes to the other end of the tavern?

She didn't agree with his methods, but it wasn't her place. She was merely a guard.

The clinking of Kyver's stein against Aalina's now empty one drew her attention once more, realizing that it would seem odd for someone to be in a tavern without drink in hand, and thus she called out for the elf to refill her tankard. Though the sudden appearance of Thronebreaker momentarily sent the tavern into silence, all eyes glancing towards the man and conversation pausing. Normally when one made such an entrance it was either the city guard or bandits. Most settled back down when the dwarves acknowledged the man.

A moment later a figure dressed in exemplary robes, perhaps from the chantry stepped through and quietly made their way towards a recently vacated table in the back, empty mugs still waiting to be removed. It was then that Telfred's eyes wandered first to Aalina, then to the man who'd entered. She gave a nod and the merchant made an effort to release himself from Kyver's embrace.
 
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As soon as the dwarven leader shouted “Berlinda,” Kyver turned his head around and responded, “SOMEONE THINKS THEY CAN BEAT BERLINDAA?!

Immediately, Kyver chugged the rest of his beer. As Telfred attempted to free himself of Kyver’s grip, Kyver forcibly gave the merchant a couple pats on the back.

For one moment, Kyver leaned in to tell Telfred, “You bedder watch this!

Kyver looked toward Aalina Eder and nodded his head toward the dwarves.

Then Kyver’s arm dropped from Telfred’s shoulders. He stood up with his hand digging in his pockets. It took a few seconds until he pulled a gold coin out and slammed it on the table with the dwarves.

I GOT MONEY ON BERLINDA!” Kyver yelled as a betting pool began for Godfrey vs. BERLINDAAA.

Thronebreaker
 
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Godfrey chortled, tankard sloshing with his laughter, then made a grand gesture with his free hand.

“I’d sooner not best a woman. But I would thrash a dwarf’s backside.

Clear a table then and we’ll see whose sinews are of iron and whose of tin.”

Kyver
 
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A gap opened for Gordrey at the table. On the opposite bench, Berlinda sat and waited for her opponent. She planted her elbow on the table.

LESS TALK, HALFGIANT!” yelled Berlinda.

Dwarves and spectators began to bet. Berlinda was on a win streak – so she had a decent amount of money on her name. Anyone that bet on Godfrey stood a chance to win a decent amount – should he defeat Berlinda.

Kyver cheered for Berlinda. She would be a challenge Godfrey would need to take somewhat seriously.

Thronebreaker
Aalina Eder
 
Some time later…

Kyver stumbled his way to the tavern door. He slurred his goodbyes to a couple of the dwarves and they somehow understood him. The coin he pulled out for bets remained on the table.

Yet one of Kyver’s hands rummaged in his pockets as he began to make his exit. As Aalina Eder’s employer would have began his deal, Telfred might have noticed his own pockets being slightly lighter than he expected. Specially, lighter on a sample of illicit goods…

Thronebreaker
 
The last thing Godfrey remembered was the sound of mugs clattering to the floor and the feel of his muscles straining against that of the stalwart dwarf female as they both quaffed as much ale as would fit into their bellies with their spare hands. Things after that became a raucous haze. He remembered not whether he won or lost, only that it had been a bout that shook the rafters with the roar of the onlookers.

He awoke in the morning in an inn bed wearing yesterday's clothes, still smelling of ale.

"Keep," he grumbled loudly, managing to stumble out of his bed and throw open the door. "Keep, I need to break fast. Oh and send someone up to draw a bath, I'm filthy."
 
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