Deep in the darkness… you sank. A deep sleep, but now it was time to remember. A well-needed rest was all you needed… a Push to remember what happened that night before.
Ah, here you are. The Yellow Star Tavern! What a place to be!
From the outside, it looks snug, clean and rustic. Clay bricks and soft wooden tree trunks make up most of the building’s outer structure.
It’s hard to see through the darkened windows, but the laughter from within can be felt outside.
As you enter the tavern through the heavy, metallic door, you’re welcomed by a feeling of comfort and the smell of alcohol.
The bartender is buried in orders but still manages to welcome you with a short wave.
It’s as enchanting inside as it is on the outside. Rounded, stone beams support the upper floor and the light fixtures attached to them. The walls are packed with all sorts of travel memorabilia, most likely all collected by the owner.
The tavern itself is packed. Locals seem to be the primary clientele here, which could be seen as the best sign you can get. Several long tables are occupied by separate groups who, after having had quite a few drinks, seem to be trying to prove which group is best. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who are clearly having a good time. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.
You did hear rumors about this tavern, supposedly it’s famous for something, but you can’t remember what for. Though judging by the number of cups, tankards, and glasses on the table, it’s probably the fine alcoholic drinks. You manage to find a seat and prepare for what will undoubtedly be a great evening.
And then, from the corner of your eye… you see it. A table that could easily be overlooked from how calm and dark it was from the rest of the room. It was almost like a VIP section or something. You didn’t exactly have the nerve to just walk up and join the table… but the game of poker sure did interest you.
You decide to order a drink and build your courage. making your way to the bar, you slam your coin down and order a drink. Only for the barkeep to give you a confused look… then you remember it. It was famous for the free food and drink. Any food or drink imaginable… you’d find it there, with no cost at all. What a dumb move. You try and save yourself some face and retract your coin from the countertop and complete your order. You ordered something strong… something that would add steel to your gut! Hair on your chest! Blood in your stool! No seriously, this stuff was something else. The main ingredient was a chemical to burn barnacles and rust off of ships…
But who gives a damn when there’s poker to be played and coin to be won? Not you! Your drink is slid over to you, and so you go for a sip? Nah, a gulp! That will start the night off right! You grab hold of the mug and take a hefty chug. Its taste took a second to hit you, but it burned hotter than the nine hells going down. You try and keep your composure, but the drink bends you like a cheap spoon in frozen solid ice cream. You make a sickly sound… some people look at you, concerned for your well being. But you fight through and try and play it off.
You clear your throat and throwback your arms, your moonlight enchanted sword sheathed on your hip, some coin in your purse, oh yeah! You were feeling good. And now it was time to join that dammed game.
You wanted to take your drink with you but it was advised against. Besides, you were reassured that the drink only gets colder as it sits there… As you walk over you began to feel the drink’s power settle in, giving you a gut of steel. Into the calmer area of the inn’s recreational areas. You enter the den of wolves. These cut-throat gamblers looked mighty tough, but it wasn’t how you looked. It’s how you played. I’m sure Luck is supposed to fit in there somewhere, but nonetheless, you were ready!
You take an empty seat, no need for introductions. You slide right on in and scan the other players before you…
So these were your opponents... The game was rather slow, so you decide to make things interesting by adding a few pieces from your purse to your bet. It wasn’t long till a little hobgoblin came on over and delivered your drink. You play a few hands and were actually doing alright, till the bard laid out a straight flush.
You were out a hefty sum and decided that you needed something to take the edge off. So, you look to that bastard of a drink and slam the rest of the glass down. It hits you like a ton of bricks, but it was just enough to give you that little push you were looking for.
Boom! You slam down your enchanted sword and personally challenged the bard for his winnings, in bet for your sword. A stupid move, but the grog was talking… And you were feelin’ good. And with that, the bard agrees.
Your vision blurs, but you keep talking big. And soon you placed your cards where your mouth was! The bard kept consulting with the thief to his right. You look to your right and see the man is eyeing your purse. You think nothing of it and continue the game, till sure enough… The bard plays his hand. Another straight flush. You were out of the game.
The sword was his, and you were left with a lot less than what you came in with. You felt suckered and played hard. The grog gives you that gut of steel so you get up and spit a few poisonous words about the Bard’s mother. The Bard finds it funny, but the man to your right and the thief to your left both stand up and look tough. The Bard tells his men to take you out, and the last thing you can remember was the size of the stone on the thief’s ring that connected to your face.
An interesting memory that, but you do remember the feeling of your body shuffling on the floor. It was probably from them patting you down and pocketing your belongings… They seemed to have loaded you up onto their wagon, and off you went to be discarded on the side of the road. They were hauling quite a bit of luggage… stolen goods, no doubt… Maybe that explains the necklace on the trail ahead..?
Now, you were slowly waking up from your little nap. Upon opening your eyes, you were in a tiny little cell. Ah, Welcome to the Queen’s dungeon… A tiny damp burlap rug was what you called a bed. And a bucket that… still had something left in it from the last occupant. Oh, there probably was no trial ahead for you. But perhaps you can explain this whole misunderstanding? Ah, probably not. Panic began to set in and the only ones willing to listen were the rats that scurry the floor. It was quiet, until a whistling tune shattered the silence, like a casted stone to stained glass.
A fitting end, for now.
Comments