Red Diamond Tavern
51st of Summer, 516AV
51st of Summer, 516AV
Frigid snowy wind swept through the entrance to the musty tavern as its large wooden doors opened to the outside. In, bracing himself from the cold, staggered a large bearded man, shrouded in a heavy blue fur cloak and thick wind blown hair. Pushing with some strength he closed the door roughly behind him, cutting off the storm that had begun to rage outside, but not before a hound bounded in after him. The dog, a large breed, his coat littered with snow, seemed playful in the falling snow, but obediently quieted down as the pair entered the building. Some of the few faces inhabiting the tavern turned to look at the disturbance, before returning to their drinks and stories, others ignored his commotion. Besides the owner and barmaid there were only five or so other customers beside newly arrived Junco.
Heading to one of the plushy chairs by the fire, he pulled off his large cloak and draped it across the back of the chair. His hunting companion plopped down on the shaggy carpet next to his owner. The fire in front of Junco was roaring bright oranges and reds, blues and greens near the center, and giving off a tremendous amount of warmth. So much so that Junco knew he would only need a few chimes by the fire before he warmed up and started to feel uncomfortable with all the heat. A storm was brewing outside, nothing that worried Junco in the slightest, although the temperatures were dropping low enough for the Morwen marked Vantha to shallowly wish for a second gnosis from his goddess. The first mark only went so far to protect him from the freezing colds of Northern Taldera.
A pretty, though taken, barmaid quickly arrived to serve him. He asked simply for a mug of ale and she whisked off to retrieve it. When she arrived back, ale in hand, Junco wondered to her if she would be able to put some water in a bowl for Bastian, his dog. He was panty slightly from the walk over. The barmaid smiled at the animal and brought what was asked a chime later. Bastian happily loped it up then got up to sit right in front of the fire, closing his eyes for a grateful minute. Junco sighed and laid his head against the back of his chair, closing his eyes as well. When he opened them again he looked to the top of the fireplace where the residing champion of the animal hunt placed his prize. As of now the trophy was a pair of extremely large antlers with many, very pointed, prongs. Probably from some dire deer, moose, or something of the like. He gazed fondly up at it, imagining the day when his trophy would be on display.
He glanced back at the door to the outside, wondering when would be an appropriate time to go back home. His mother had kicked all the males out of the arvinta, claiming the women, mainly Aumber in her pregnant state, needed some space. Did she know she was kicking two young men, a father and an old grandad out of their home? His dad just laughed at the women and their antics, while his brother Hembr, having the trait of doing whatever his wife asked without thought, went off together, Junco did not know where. His grandfather made a bit of a fuss, going on about how he was an old man, even going to far as to remind his daughter in law that he was the head of the house. But his mother was strong and did not fall for his bluff. He may be head of house, but he did not make the rules and he knew it. So he trudged off to the common area of the Frostfawn hold while Junco headed outside as his little sister taunted and jeered as his misfortune.
Thinking about his mother he decided he should probably wait a good few bells before even thinking about returning. So he sipped at his ale, not wanting to spend too much coin here, or run the risk of impairment, and watched the flames dance in the hearth.