It was a somewhat normal evening, that is, if there were ever such a thing at the Inn. Another long day was coming to a close, which meant thay yours is just begining. You sit in the corner, tuning your small harp, eyeing the flow of patrons as they enter one by one, or in small groups. They make their way to the tables set within the room, and even take it upon themselves to do a little rearranging of the place to better accomodate their fellow mates, and to settle in for an evening of drinking, entertainment, and eventually (innevittably) a fight or two. You begin to make your plan, and pick out your choices of tables you will feather your way towards as you pluck and sing. You begin to think of tales and song that will entertain each group by their appearance. Of course, there are the dark corners of the room that signal you to just keep your distance of, as those patrons are here for reasons other than to be entertained by song and dance. You reach down, and give one final check to your daggar clasped to your calf, your only reasurance that by chance you are a target, you may even the score. Just as you raise your head, your eyes fix on her. Already, she's taken on an audience as a few patrons have turned their heads to see this beautiful elven woman. She has taken her place right up at the bar. She's not dressed as the other wenches of the evening, nor takes on their brash behaviors. She is lightly sipping from an exotic glass with a stem. Something she obvioiusly has brought with her, for the only thing one would drink from is his horn, or the Inn's supplied standard stein. She wears a thin smile as she nods to a table of gawking men behind her. She does her best to look away, and not to cause any trouble. She has a very quiet demeanor, yet her beauty draws an abundance of attention in a place like this. She wears layers of blue and white flowing gowns and a simple silver chain around her neck. It is all you need to know to redirect your intentions on making your way to her as quickly as possible.
You strike the first note of the evening and let it resonate, as heads quickly turn in your direction. With your most shrilfull voice, you sing out above the crowd. In an almost alarming way, this quiets the room, You have the crowds fullest attention. You stand and lean in to a nearby table of soldiers; regulars.
"... for those who are armed beyond those who dare..."
You swing to the next table of masonry workers, "... to those who muscle rock in ways I can't compare... I raise my glass high, high to with all of you whom I share!" You snatch up a almost empty, unclaimed mug of brew from yet another table and raise it above my head as you strike a very loud, very high pitched chord on your instrument. As the note finishes you slug down what was left behind in the mug (in your proffession, you take all you can get.) The warm brew flows into your belly, and you now make your way through the crowd, dancing in sync with the melody you play. You give a nod here and there at the patrons, but your aim is to be planted on the stool next to the beautiful damsel at the bar. Your song continues, as you jimmy lyrics in the way that you do. They match those around around you, and you are praised with their smiles, laughter, and lifting of mugs. You have now reached your destination, and turn to face the entire crowd with a wink, your voice goes low, and everyone seems to be in on your unnexpected greeting to this gem.
"... and with that my sweet lady, can I buy you a drink?" your bottom makes perfect contact with the empty stool next to the elven woman, and you lean back and make eye contact with her. The crowd is silent, and your last note falls as well. There's almost a frozen moment in time before she smiles and says with almost a whisper,"Yes, you may."
The room is filled with cheers and applause. It looks as though you may have yourself a very lucky night after all.
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