Timestamp - 13th of Spring, AV 514
The air was hot and stuffy tonight in The Pig's Foot Tavern, smoke hung thick and heavy in the air along with the smell of alcohol, the sound of raucous laughter filled the room as the bard sung a bawdy tune about an Eypharian women with six arms and her six husbands delight as the patrons sung along, forming an rag-tag choir so out of tune Garret feared for dogs of Sunberth as he sat alone on a table near the far corners of the room, he was just another one of the rough undesirables whom made their living with the dishonest jobs that other dishonest people didn’t do to pretend to themselves that they were honest folk simply making a living in this world.
Garret did not share their feelings, truth was he couldn't remember the last time he had a good time in this miserable city, every day he spent in it just weighed down on him more and more, drink and blood was the only thing he lived for nowadays and even that was beginning to lose its appeal to the old mercenary, he didn't know how much longer he could deal with this place.
"Refill love?" A busty waitress asked with a fake smile plastered on her face as she looked down at a face even a mother would have struggled to love. Garret nodded solemnly, to dour to even look down her top as she bent down to fill his tankard. She could play all the little tricks on him as much as she liked, he was a stingy bastard at best and even the eldest elder couldn't remember when he had last tipped someone. "Right to the top love, and hold back on those bloody smiles, if you ain't a whore I ain't interested" He spat while he reclined back on the splintered, wooden chair pulling out a pouch of weed and a pipe from his pockets as he began to pack the dried weed into the chamber of the pipe. He handed her a few coins, the exact cost of a tankard and not a copper more, as she scampered of to find a friendlier customer.
He lit a single splint from one of the candle that melted slowly on his empty table, watching it flicker and glow as it fought for life before he stuck it into the chamber of the pipe. The flame extinguished itself immediately as it attempted to set the weed alight only to make it smoulder and smoke. Leaving the weed to brew he rose the tankard of cheap ale to his mouth, downing the tankard in several gulps before wiping the sheen from his cracked lips and slamming the tankard down. "Another!" He called out to the waitress as he sucked on the tip of his pipe, the sourer smoke melting with the tangy ale to form a truly vile flavour and odour. "Again!" He cried out once more but the waitress pretended ignore him, flirting instead with some flabby merchants with more chins than balls.
Garret pushed his chair back and stood up, his pipe still in hand as he did so, leaving a trail of acrid smoke lining the tavern as he wandered over the counter, leaning against it as his elbows rested on the splintering wooden counter that had been the victim of numerous carvings in a patrons moment of boredom, usually consisting of a crude picture of an unsavoury nature, and an empty tankard stood in front of him, nestled between his rough hands and his pipe clamped beneath his teeth "Give us a refill Merv, it's been a long twenty years"
The air was hot and stuffy tonight in The Pig's Foot Tavern, smoke hung thick and heavy in the air along with the smell of alcohol, the sound of raucous laughter filled the room as the bard sung a bawdy tune about an Eypharian women with six arms and her six husbands delight as the patrons sung along, forming an rag-tag choir so out of tune Garret feared for dogs of Sunberth as he sat alone on a table near the far corners of the room, he was just another one of the rough undesirables whom made their living with the dishonest jobs that other dishonest people didn’t do to pretend to themselves that they were honest folk simply making a living in this world.
Garret did not share their feelings, truth was he couldn't remember the last time he had a good time in this miserable city, every day he spent in it just weighed down on him more and more, drink and blood was the only thing he lived for nowadays and even that was beginning to lose its appeal to the old mercenary, he didn't know how much longer he could deal with this place.
"Refill love?" A busty waitress asked with a fake smile plastered on her face as she looked down at a face even a mother would have struggled to love. Garret nodded solemnly, to dour to even look down her top as she bent down to fill his tankard. She could play all the little tricks on him as much as she liked, he was a stingy bastard at best and even the eldest elder couldn't remember when he had last tipped someone. "Right to the top love, and hold back on those bloody smiles, if you ain't a whore I ain't interested" He spat while he reclined back on the splintered, wooden chair pulling out a pouch of weed and a pipe from his pockets as he began to pack the dried weed into the chamber of the pipe. He handed her a few coins, the exact cost of a tankard and not a copper more, as she scampered of to find a friendlier customer.
He lit a single splint from one of the candle that melted slowly on his empty table, watching it flicker and glow as it fought for life before he stuck it into the chamber of the pipe. The flame extinguished itself immediately as it attempted to set the weed alight only to make it smoulder and smoke. Leaving the weed to brew he rose the tankard of cheap ale to his mouth, downing the tankard in several gulps before wiping the sheen from his cracked lips and slamming the tankard down. "Another!" He called out to the waitress as he sucked on the tip of his pipe, the sourer smoke melting with the tangy ale to form a truly vile flavour and odour. "Again!" He cried out once more but the waitress pretended ignore him, flirting instead with some flabby merchants with more chins than balls.
Garret pushed his chair back and stood up, his pipe still in hand as he did so, leaving a trail of acrid smoke lining the tavern as he wandered over the counter, leaning against it as his elbows rested on the splintering wooden counter that had been the victim of numerous carvings in a patrons moment of boredom, usually consisting of a crude picture of an unsavoury nature, and an empty tankard stood in front of him, nestled between his rough hands and his pipe clamped beneath his teeth "Give us a refill Merv, it's been a long twenty years"
