Post by The Innkeeper on Jun 24, 2017 21:15:35 GMT
The moon was well past its zenith, most of the bustling crowd, that had filled the Inn’s halls for dinner a couple hours ago, had already dispersed. The Innkeeper stood silently behind the counter, graciously wiping clean the bottles that were left standing on his shelves; he observed with tired eyes the ragged band that was left, sitting around the hearth, mugs on their hands. The usual suspects… The Innkeeper thought, a thin smile appearing on his lips. He had known these fellas from years now and every fifth day of the month, they would reprise this very same scene. As he laid down the last bottle, he heard the request he had been waiting for since the day had risen.
“Come on, ye ol’ buggah. Grab one fer yerself and sit here to tell another one of your stories.” As always, The Innkeeper faked some indignation at the request and grunted at his grey-haired comrades. Truth was, though, this was the moment he waited for every month; he just liked playing cranky. After a couple more minutes of persistence, the old man finally let go of his façade and joined the others by the fire. His old back creaked and he sighed as he finally allowed himself to rest after another long day of hard work.
“We wan’ som’thing new today.” Said one of his friends. “Last month ye told us about those up jumped peasants who moved into the haunted castle.”
“Aye… And the one before ye told us for da third time about the war between the Ravager King and the Wolf Prince.” Said another, sucking some ale between his rotten teeth.
The Innkeeper had lived for a while now, more than most of these fellas combined. As the years passed and his hairs turned white, he had heard his fair share of stories and even witnessed a handful at first hand. It was his thing, you see… The Innkeeper is always there, even though you may not notice him. Paying attention to everything that goes on in his establishment. It was part of his job, and as every other task of his, he faced with unmatched diligence.
“Well, well…” His gruff grave voice echoed across the building. Those were the first words he had uttered that day, as they always were on the fifth of every month. Traditionn was something that the Innkeeper enjoyed. “Which tale shall I tell you tonight?” The Innkeeper smiled fondly, reminiscing of days long past.
“Come on, ye ol’ buggah. Grab one fer yerself and sit here to tell another one of your stories.” As always, The Innkeeper faked some indignation at the request and grunted at his grey-haired comrades. Truth was, though, this was the moment he waited for every month; he just liked playing cranky. After a couple more minutes of persistence, the old man finally let go of his façade and joined the others by the fire. His old back creaked and he sighed as he finally allowed himself to rest after another long day of hard work.
“We wan’ som’thing new today.” Said one of his friends. “Last month ye told us about those up jumped peasants who moved into the haunted castle.”
“Aye… And the one before ye told us for da third time about the war between the Ravager King and the Wolf Prince.” Said another, sucking some ale between his rotten teeth.
The Innkeeper had lived for a while now, more than most of these fellas combined. As the years passed and his hairs turned white, he had heard his fair share of stories and even witnessed a handful at first hand. It was his thing, you see… The Innkeeper is always there, even though you may not notice him. Paying attention to everything that goes on in his establishment. It was part of his job, and as every other task of his, he faced with unmatched diligence.
“Well, well…” His gruff grave voice echoed across the building. Those were the first words he had uttered that day, as they always were on the fifth of every month. Traditionn was something that the Innkeeper enjoyed. “Which tale shall I tell you tonight?” The Innkeeper smiled fondly, reminiscing of days long past.