The Dragon's Head Tavern and Inn, Vorland, 1437 ATC
The sandy haired barmaid snacked on a sweet roll in the corner; one of the last few. It was fluffy and sweet, with little crumbs being few and far between. Brea Rowland was quite content with her progress as a new and upcoming baker, but she could see ways to improve. For instance, this roll was rather dense and doughy. All in all she was content, though, and she smirked to herself as she ate.
''How's the baking going?'' Venser asked beside from beside her, as if he had been there the whole time. He had an annoying habit of appearing and disappearing at random. He held a sketchbook in one hand, and upon closer inspection he had drawn a particular curved helmet with a frill on top.
Brea jumped, dropping her sweet roll on the dusty floor. "Oh, hello." She said, quickly catching her breath, then frowning at her toppled pastry. "I suppose it was going very well up until I dropped the baked good." She added with a chuckle. "How's the hunt for the perfect home going?''
"It ended, actually. We have a big lovely villa with a lot of land to grow crops in and... Eh, we've been in. the process of moving and shopping for furnishings." He said shrugging. ''Half hour rule.'' He said raising his left hand, his mark glowed greenish white and emitted steam as the sweet roll was trapped in a green aura, floating into his hand. He handed it back to Brea and asked, ''How do ya feel about your boss fighting in an arena? Or doing chariot racing? I know it's like a national pastime, sort of.''
The sandy haired barmaid chuckled as she let the roll fall back into her hands. "Thank you. And I guess I feel like my healing skills need polishing if that were to be the case." Although he said it was fine to eat, she didn't fully believe him, as she saw specks of dirt and dust in the butter. She put it on the table. "Why are you hypothetically going to an arena?"
''For money and to entertain the masses. Why else would anyone fight to the death in an arena in front of hundreds of people?'' Venser asked clapping his hands twice. ''Water!'' A shadow tendril brought him a cold glass, and he picked it up with his scarred hand. ''Grigwald has jousting so does many places since it came from there, chariot racing, so much. So why not partake?"
"... But are you aware you could die?" She said slowly, making sure he understood every syllable. "It's usually a fight... To the death. Death." She stressed.
''Yeah. So what?'' Venser asked still unphased as if he didn't quite here what she had said. ''And these fighters are slaves and prisoners."
"You seem very... Okay with the idea of murder. Or being the murder-ee." She said, getting up and tossing the sweet roll away. "Think of your children Ven!"
''I honestly... I do enjoy it sometimes, the challenge and the rush of it, for those who deserve it. Sometime in the capital since that's where a lot of people live, and it gets plenty of travelers..." He shrugged, ''Sometime in Capital De Seraphim in Pryldahn, up North over the border ya know.'' He sipped his water and pushed aside his sketchbook. ''Not the first time it's happened. Though, I gave chariot riding a try only once and would like to do it again.'' Hearing a local farmer call for a tankard of ale and watching his barmaid fetch it.
"Er... You, chariot race?" Brea said, turning and finding a tankard while filling it with ale. "So, sometimes, I've only heard about it, they kill people for sport? I'm lost, I feel." She said, passing the mug to the guest and taking his coin.
"Thank you ma'am." He took the mug and chugged the ale down sighing a sigh of great approval.
''Yeah. Exactly.'' He clasped his hands together and stated, ''People love violence. So why not? Do you think I'd do no good or something?"'
"Well, you did run through a bunch of mannequins in here the other day... And you told me about those brigands you took down to help pay for your home." She said with a nod. "I think you'd hold your own just fine, sir."
Rauri the islandic elf needed alcohol, and soon. Alcohol could help, it always had, why would it stop now? She lifted her head from where it was laying on the countertop, only enough to where she could speak without being muffled. "Someone get me something to drink, please." She asked quietly. Seeing as how she hasn't spoken in a good few hours, it was a bit surprising to hear her own voice, to hear incredibly bitter she was.
The sun begins to set over the trees, cool evening air blowing through the underbrush. The soft sound of foot falls sounds in the twilight as a large yellow creature moves slowly through the wood. The creatures dark eyes glance around quickly as it moves, towering over most of the animals. Its large stinger tipped tail drooped behind it in a curl only inches from the grass below and its small insect like wings sit folded against its back. The physique of the creature is mostly female, the yellow on its skin interrupted by brown belly and leg patters. A long thin forked tongue flicks from between the reptilian lips to taste the air. The smell of treated wood, food, and humans wafts on the breeze. She titled her large head and moves in the smell, a tavern coming into her line of view through the trees. She walks up to the doors, cautiously, then pushes them open gently. She has to bend over to walk in and then straighten up again, glancing around the wooden building.
Brea Rowland went behind the bar and then stopped in front of Rauri. "I like the tune, but it's down in the doldrums as they say." She said, offering a half smile.
"Something wrong, Rauri?'' Venser asked grabbing a bottle of his favorite brand of cider, setting it down in front of her. ''You're drinking a lot. And I can tell you aren't having fun.''
"What about tunes?" She asked with a muffled voice, her face smooshed against the counter. She didn't bother lifting her head. "A stupid letter, is all." She mumbled. She reached up and out to grab the cider, not bothering to pour a glass as she sat up and drank straight from the bottle. The short elven girl was dressed similar to belly dancer, her outfit consisted if baggy red pants, a red sleeveless top that matched, and black red boots with a rapier strapped to her side. She had a relatively thin figure with a nice rear, and she had tanned olive sunkissed skin with eyes then color of the sea and long dark red hair that was semi curly.
Brea leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "We won't pry if you don't want to talk about it. Right Venser?" She said pointedly, raising her eyebrow at him.
The sound of voices reaches her and she glances up, seeing that there seems to be a bar atop the second floor. She moves up the stairs quietly and peers over at the people seated at the bar curiously. She kneels down on her haunches and watches, her head tilted to the left.
''Naw c'mon.'' Venser said crossing his arms. ''I have a saying, people go to healers for physical wounds, while people go to bars for the wounds of the soul.'' He gestured to Rauri. ''Clearly her soul is hurt. Right?"
"No, no, go ahead, pry all you want! I would rather get it over with now than later. Ask away!" She gestures wildly, like only a drunk can. She leaned back in her chair, waiting for a question to be asked.
The bearded man leaned forward and asked, ''What has you troubled, friend?''
Emikolet's forked lounge flicks out again as she watches them from a comfortable distance, her tail now resting comfortably on the ground around her feet.
"My clan got sick of me being their 'Trouble Child' so they cut me loose. That's it." She spat, taking another swig from the bottle in her hand. "I am such a long ways from the Alphonse Islands."
"Well they're all missing out." Brea mumbled her support, always afraid of overstepping boundaries. She never knew where she truly stood while working here, since her boss and frequent guests were always raunchy. But she wanted to help however she could, especially to one of her favorite patrons.
Emikolet stood up and walked cautiously to the bar, looking over it curiously. Her three fingered, claw tipped hand glides across the top gently. Ignoring the others, she explores the upstairs area. Towering above the tables she wonders if she will even fit in any of these chairs.
Ruari gave off a snort of laughter. "Are you kidding? They think-- They know I'm no good, magic nor brute strength!" Her ears flicker a bit in annoyance not at the question, but at everything in general. "Gods, they had to put power runes on me once they found out I was magically inclined because I was just that weak! Why would they want me?" She grumbles, looking down into the bottle to see how much of the cider was left.
"Ya' know... I probably wouldn't be nearly as mad as I am if they had let me back on the island... Fuck the clan, I just want to return to Koneroi." She sniffles as tears begin to roll down her face. "Why can't I just go home?"
"Can you not return to your island at all?" The sandy haired barmaid asked, engulfed in her tragic story. It was truly heartbreaking. "I can't go home, either. But I'm sure these are two completely different worlds."
"N-no..." She tried to control her sobbing. "They control t-the island. They'll most likely kill me." Rauri stopped her crying enough to where she's no longer making a mess of herself. "Why can't you go home?" She looked up at Brea through teardamp eyelashes, concern written all over her face.
Brea shook her head. "No, this isn't about me right now." Whilst abandoning her place behind the bar to comfort her. She took the small woman in her arms, holding her albeit not too close, just enough to be soothing. "But I know that losing the one place that you thought you would always have can shatter your world. Picking up the pieces will cut and hurt. But it is inevitable."
Ruari's bottom lip began quivering as she tried to hold back a fresh wave of tears. She nodded, unsure if in agreement or acceptance, and pulled Brea into a tight hug. "Thanks."
Venser, after staring off into space for what seemed like forever, finally said, ''Homos naked.'' He sputtered and shook his head, speaking clearly, ''Home is where ya make it.'' A nod of his head and a quiet sigh, thinking of his own little family he had now.
The sandy haired barmaid nodded, hugging her back. "Home is where you make it. And I guess it's time to start over." She said, taking the advice that she gave. "I could have used that advice myself. And here I am."
The elf smiled at the duo's words. "Then I guess here is my home. Until I get another job, at least. Doing... Something. I did practice belly dancing for a few years." She laughed at her own little joke.
''Oh that's perfect! And I can play guitar or something, get the shadow tendrils to play something and yeah. Patrons can give you coin for the dancing. My lover Sanna is a dancer, the best, in fact.'' The bearded man shrugged. ''I live here at the tavern. This place is my life. I have other homes, in Pryldahn, places you've never heard of. . But... I work here. I spend almost everyday here. I've met so many people here, my friends and family are here. Though it may change eventually."
''I will have to consider it again... Yeah.''
"Well, that seems cause to celebrate!" Brea chirped, squeezing her close one last time before releasing her and going back behind the bar, pulling out a tankard and filling it with mead, raising it in the air. "To the new member of the family." She said, smiling kindly at Ruari.
Venser hopped atop the bar, sticking a large stick of pepperoni in-between his legs. ''I'm sexy! Imma sexy boy!'' He waved it around ''Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!'' He proceeded to slap his employee in the face with his big sausage.
Brea put her tankard down and protected her face. "What? No-Venser..." Instead of protesting, she just groaned and pushed the stick away.
The islandic elf just stared blankly for a few moments. Ruari looked down at the bottle in her hand and then raised it. "To me, I guess." She raised it to her lips to take a swig. "And thanks... Jester."
"To Ruari." The sandy haired barmaid tried to toast as she was slapped in the face with the promiscuous meat.
''To Ruari!'' Venser said raising a bottle of cider, somehow the pepperoni was replaced with it. He disappeared in a puff of thick red smoke and reappeared beside her. ''Oh, and you know, I actually am employed as a jester. Sometimes.''
The elf girl tilted it back a bit more to finish off the bottle, but she ended up leaning too far back and tipped the chair over, landing on her back with a heavy thud. Though she didn't seem to react much to the impact.
Her attention returned to the people at the bar as they seem to toast to the girl. Her head tilts to the left and then to the right, not understanding. She approaches slowly, smelling food and drink. Her tongue flicks out and her mouth begins to water as she realizes she is hungry.
''Brea?" Venser asked blinking a few times, craning his head to her before jumping back at the sight of the tall scaly scorpion thing. Now just noticing it. Somehow. ''What the?!'' He grabbed his bladeless sword from his belt and twirled it around, allowing the short blade to extend. ''As, well you're... Close to a dragon?''
Emikolet jumped back at his actions, a hiss escaping her throat and the fin atop her head raising. She scoots back a few paces and stares down at him cautiously.
Having been one to typically avoid the sun these days, Arys had managed to sleep all day and found something to keep herself occupied for the start of the evening. When it was late, she ventured back to, as it was unofficially dubbed , Ven's Tavern in hopes to get a drink. Instead, she walked in on a scene she could have done without seeing. Aquatic, reptilian creatures of any sorts managed to leave her on somewhat of an edge... Whatever it was, Arys found herself navigating the opposite side of the room until she found a corner of the bar to mind her own business.
Brea Rowland jumped. And yelped. And grabbed her skirts. "I'm really not that much of a fighter, sir."
''Ooh! A dee dee! A dee dee!'' Venser yelled waving his short sword around. ''Not the first time I've rangled with scorpion reptile people! Once cleared out a whole cave of them!'' He continued to wave his sword around to scare the creature, slowly moving towards it. ''A dee dee! A dee dee!"
Emikolet bared her rows of large sharp teeth, her tail raising over her head very much like a scorpion. "What did you call me?!?" She yelled, her two fangs swinging down from the roof of her mouth out from behind her teeth as her mouth opens. She growled low, trying to understand why he was acting this way. He acted like he knew what she was but she wasn't even from this realm. She snorted, getting up and jumping out a nearby window, much to everyone's surprise.
Seriously, what the fuck was this? It looked so... Beastial. Way more than a majority of patrons that came here, even the occasional furries. ''Umm... So you can spea-'' He jumped back again when she just decided to leave just like that.''Holy fuck!'' Did Venser take acid? He didn't know? Was he.... Oh what the hell.
''Should have known... How did I not notice? I mean...'' Awkward squeezing gestures. ''I acted kinda like, I shouldn't have...''
''We know.'' Said Brea and Ruari at the same time.
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Hello!
A tremendous story I have read, I am excited to continue reading your fiction stories, they have a very special plot that attracts my attention;)
Greetings and happy holidays from Venezuela♡
hi dear @vmmouchas, always good stories come out of your imagination !! I love The Dragon's Head Tavern and Inn, as if it were the caffe bar under my house !! all the best for you in this new year 2020 and congratulations on your work