The last of the sun's rays timidly lights the quiet village as I enter the tavern. The blending of smells and noises hurts my senses a little, but I'm used to it. I look inside, it is tremendously lively tonight. Around twenty villagers and travelers are gathered here talking, playing or drinking, and that is great for my business.

I take off my hood, letting my light brown curls appear, and I walk in. A Kypiq is not supposed to attract too much attention, but the mask I'm wearing is famous enough to catch the interest of some Bigs who are holding their pouches, knowing who I am, or at least who is the only one Kypiq in the world with that mask.

I order a herbal tea at the counter, then I find an empty table on the side, far enough from the drunkard that is about to begin a fight over there. I sit down, put my backpack between my short legs and take out a green silk tablecloth embroidered with gold threads, a pair of dice, some rolled up maps and a small sign for those who never met me before.

My table is ready, and already a handful of people want to deal with me.

Let the gambling begins!

- Rin Kuji, the Kypiq Explorer / Gambler

Thank you for creating this contest, the subject inspired me ^^

I walked into the bar.

OWCH!

It was early for a tavern. Sunlight still filtered through the cracks in the wooden shades, illuminating the softly swirling motes of dust that not even the most assiduous housekeeper could entirely eliminate from any such establishment. In another season, the common room might be empty at such a time, the men at work in the fields and the women off doing the thousand other chores that never seemed to cease, but this was fall, after the harvest. The crops were stored; the young folk could look after the kine (for the evening at least, as no canis rabbits has been spotted in this area recently); the fences that needed repair did not need it so urgently that some time could not be taken for oneself.

And so, while not bustling, the tavern was certainly not empty, either. A few Nerans, farmers by the looks of them, chatted amiably at a table near the hearth, as yet unlit in this fine weather. A Hrothi sat in one corner, accompanied by a pot of ale and her tinkering kit, with which she absently fiddled. Two more Nerans, a man and a woman more finely dressed than their kinsmen by the hearth, sat huddled intently over what looked to be a business contract of some sort (an appearance only enhanced by the To'resk sitting diffidently beside them).

All this was taken in at a moment as the weathered, rough-hewn door swung inward at my touch and I leaned heavily against its solid frame. About the room, eyes turned lazily upwards, no doubt expecting to see a friend - or at least an acquaintance - from the village, but they paused as they met my face instead.

I wondered how I must look to them - a Dras, stained and weary from long days on the road, clothes and face alike caked with dried mud and drier dust. I knew that our pale complexions and gaunt frames caused Nerans to find us sickly-looking at the best of times, and I also knew that I was far from my best. Our habit of dressing from head to toe no matter the heat also seemed to generate a certain amount of suspicion about us. Rather than being seen as a mere practicality to avoid sunburn, it was assumed by many that we must have something (probably something dark and sinister) to hide beneath our full-length garments. Whenever panic about an alleged vampire sighting in the area arose in Neran settlements, well... it was best not to be a Dras there at such times.

Perhaps my unkempt state was a blessing, then. Perhaps they would see only an underfed, sickly traveler in need of some kindness. I wore the twin bracelets of my faith, true, but this far from Dras lands, what were the odds they'd be recognized for what they were? With the gloves and wide-brimmed hat I wore to save my skin exposure to the elements, I might even be mistaken for one of their Cardinal Pilgrims. I had no idea if this was the proper time - or even proper year - for such a pilgrimage, but perhaps I would be lucky.

Encouraged by these thoughts, and spurred by the heat of the too-bright sun of these lands on my back, I stepped into the tavern, gently closing the door behind me. I noted with approval that it swung smoothly on its hinges. This place might not be the finest inn on Elyria, but it was certainly well looked after, and that reflected well in the proprietors and staff.

As soon as I actually crossed the threshold into the tavern and removed my hat, the locals seemed to lose interest. After all, this was a tavern, and they likely saw enough travelers passing through for a strange face to be but a momentary distraction. A silhouette in the doorway can be anything, but a man in a tavern is a man in a tavern. That was good. While most Nerans I had met were not outwardly hostile to those of my tribe, they did seem to have an innate instinct to, at the very least, attempt to pass off spoiled food and drink as if we wouldn't notice. While it certainly didn't pose the same threat to my mind as it did to theirs, it didn't taste nearly so good either. I mean, you'd think they'd at least have the courtesy to offer us a discount for it.

Lamenting that the one fact about my people that seemed to have made it into every nook and cranny of Elyria was the strength of our stomachs, I approached the bar.

"Have you water, friend," I croaked in Neran, thinking that my dry throat may serve to disguise my accent much as the dust that caused it disguised my features, "and perhaps some bread and meat? I can pay," I added quickly, as Dras or Neran, no innkeeper liked a vagabond who couldn't pay his tab.

"'Course we do, friend," the barman affably replied, "though between you 'n' me, ye look like ye could use somethin' a bit stronger'n water. First one on the 'ouse, of course, so long as yer buyin' food!"

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could speak even a syllable a voice rang out behind me.

"Don't waste your drink, barkeep!" I turned, knowing before I saw that the voice came from the Hrothi I'd spotted earlier. Standing now, her eyes narrowed with suspicion, she continued: "Unless you've got something spoiled back there you've not been able to unload on any poor drunks yet. That's a Dras," she spit the name of my tribe, the word dripping with contempt, towards where I stood at the bar, "an untrustworthy leech out of the swamps to suck us decent folk dry."

Well, I thought, as the scraping of chairs indicated that all eyes were now quite fixed on me, this should be interesting.

I am really enjoying reading these... keep them coming!

Apetus walks into the tavern, sees that it is full of big burly scary guys that are staring at him with a menacing look, Apetus proceeds to walk out of the tavern and go home for he supposes that he did not need to drink that night anyways.

The door to the tavern creaks, it would not be as notisable if opened briskly but as it is now needlessly slowly being pried open by a shivering bony hand, the lengthened sound gets a few annoyed glares.

A long and ghoulish face with a wide and unpleasant grin showing too much teeth, peeks in through the crack. Its an elderly drasenian hag, tall even with a hunched over posture. Most of the people glancing over quickly loose interest, a few others sigh as they heard the coming routine before.

Before the wrinkly old bag of bones has taken her first shaky and horrifyingly muddy steps in through the door, the barkeep gruffly calls out to her: "No one is dead or dying in here, grave digger. Go home!"

"How unfortune... perhaps someone planning to.. a bit later?" The much to hopefull grin lingers a bit longer as she peers around in look for someone looking old or sick or perhaps small enough to be a potential corpse in the near future..

Late afternoon somewhere in the Neran Outskirts

Another Goddess forsook town in a region I had no business being in, standing outside of as yet unremarkable county tavern

[Nice construction though, a sturdy example of Hrothi masonry supported by stout timber and filled with the vices of Mann]

Lucky for me I had managed to slip in the door before more problematic patrons arrived as most Neran, and well most folk don't tend too kindly towards my kin, I am a Dras, worse I am A Mergoin.

What is a Mergoin you ask? Simple I find the best ways to kill any who would threaten home to maintain our peace. Also, I find peace in studying that which could kill so many yet still save the attentive.

Sadly, due to outlandish rumors and deliberate misinformation by the spiteful midgets, no not the Kypiqs I'll get to those sneak thieves in a second, the Hrothi. Always jealous of any that would upset their metal empires. Alas, I digress, as an Alchemic Dabbler there are many a fume and tincture that have unstable effects.

"Kypiqs the Short Version"

{As opposed to what, the Tall one?}

Annoying kleptomaniacs with a penchant for "Shinies" and gambling. Tending towards grabbing anything not nailed down.

[Don't give a Kypiq a Brudvir sized dose of strained Trison essence {Semen yeah} unforeseen cir{CUM}stances had the local little population increase exponentially.]

(Seriously {} you are a child.)

{Bite me ()!}

Back on track, I entered the tavern dressed to the nines for all intents doing my best to be more wrapped up than a leperous life drinker. Only a tavern maid and the little crowd swirling about me

/What crowd it's just me, (), {}, [], Sura and.....ok fine, yeah?/

and the town drunk to liven the place. I walk up to bar to attain refreshment and sustenance finding a quiet corner to bunker down in and find a respite from the cacophony of incessant chatter.

Hopefully, I can find peace, leaning back into the alcove

^crunCH^

You have got to kidding, DARK TAKE IT, a destroyed the vial containing a precious and volatile weaponized brew of Diluted Goddess's Bane ran down my back. Long and short of a terrible history, BAD poison highly lethal and worse when exposed to air it aerosolizes and becomes a fast-acting paralytic that scrambles the signals from the body's nerves whilst simultaneously self-destructing the brain, liver, kidneys, and testicles it is 100% lethal to all known tribes but the Dras'i.

As a dark saffron cloud billowed from my wrappings all I could think was,

"Welp that makes Four."

/Frack ME/

[It was such a Nice Tavern too]

{Do dead People need Coin purses?}

(I Need a Drink)

Four Hours Later

-One burning tavern

[Check]

-Newfound money and vittles

({Check})

-A horde of understandably angry residents baying for my blood and blighted ancestry

/Check/

-Meaningless Internal Checklist

^Check^

Ahh yes, I did forget something in all that. My name is Baron Sura of Roanapur and I swear to the Goddess I am not a bad person.

-Diaries of the Blight of Kairosi, Mad Alchemist Sura Kelly

Before I leave off, Thanks for the opportunity to let some of the characters in my head out fer a walk. And a thank you to Rin and Mace, I don't know if you intended for your intros to seem connected but I interpreted it that way and I carried the narrative on in my own way.

I have to say so far these are great and giving me so many ideas to write in Isabella (my alt's) book. I am excited to see more great entries and am going to have so much fun reading these out loud with my husband on stream.

@SuraHP No, Thank you for sharing them with us. I am hoping that one day we can meet in character.

@Mace You really captured the feel of entering a tavern. I am really looking forward to reading this one out loud and hoping I capture the atmosphere you presented. Love all the inclusions of little tribal mechanics you had going on there.

@Matriarch Your sense of humor never fails to amuse me. :)

@Rin GREAT start to my little contest. Thank you for being the first to take the leap of faith and put your pen to paper ((err... pixel to screen??)) and bringing Rin Kuji to life. I will gamble at your table any time.

Everyone else show us your best... or worst side as you come into the tavern. The contest doesn't end till the 19th. On a side note I added the time for the contest stream announcement to the original post as I had forgotten to include that.

The lamplight flickered, illuminating the tavern and making it much brighter than normal. I made sure to shy away from the windows; the tavern - like all buildings in New Aegis - was suspended far above the trees, and I was not very fond of heights. Too many climbing incidents. Don’t ask. Not that I needed to look outside, for tonight was the Sunsight Festival - the night where all of the town is lit with paper lanterns, and the skies are lit with fireworks. Red, green, blue, and all the colors in between shone across my face as I sighed and turned back towards the barkeep.

"What's the matter, Duchess Alluvial?" The barkeep quipped. "Resting before you have to give your big speech?" "That's exactly it, Mister Pawlead... I'm always nervous about these things, you know." Pawlead laughed and slammed down another drink. "Nothing that more alcohol can't cure, m'Duchess."

I let out a small chuckle and looked into the tankard - my freckled face staring back with a frown. I drained the mug before standing up and tossing a coin to the barkeep.

"You can close up shop now, sorry to bother you."

I quickly walked out before he could snort at me and vanished into the cold air, pulling my cloak around me.

Didn't want to make it too long for the read-aloud. ^^;

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this. :)

The Hooshewah

So there I was, just another night in my favorite watering hole, the Dregs. Maybe not the prettiest name, and definitely not the prettiest customers. But the ale was cheap, and the food was plentiful, if not terribly flavorful.

I was sitting elbow to elbow with a couple of my fellow lumberjacks - I may be a Count, but out here in the woods of Bergental, everyone pitches in when it comes to the timber business - swapping the usual yarns and bullshit, when the new kid came banging in through the door. I know I’m just getting older, but I swear to the Divines, these kids get younger every year. Conroy was his name, and he’d just started on the crew a week back. We gave him the usual scut jobs, clearing brush, limbing, anything to get some calluses built up on his hands and let us get to know his quirks before we trusted him with anything more dangerous.

Anyway, the kid was doing alright, but he was just so damn keen. You know how some people just seem to go out of their way to ingratiate themselves with you? To the point where you just want to smack ‘em with a stout stick and chase them off? Well, Conroy had a bad case of that with me. Count this, sir that, and nevermind how many times I tried to tell him that it’s just Trug when we’re out in the woods. And now it looked like he’d found my boozer. Wonderful.

Sure enough, his eyes lit up when he saw me glowering at him across the top of my tankard, and here he comes. As he bumbled his way across the room, I cast a weary gaze over at my foreman, Tom. Tom was a bear of a man, 6 feet tall if he was an inch, and with arms as thick around as most men’s legs. He tipped me a wink.

“Keen one, ain’t he?” Tom boomed, loud enough to hear across the crowded room. “Lad like that, he’ll be ready to wrassle with the Hooshewah before long, I reckon.”

“Count Belleme!” squeaked Conroy, as he pulled up a seat at the table. “Oh, sir, what a coincidence to run into you here!”

“Aye, some coincidence indeed. And it’s just Trug, Connie.” I waved for Larry, the barkeep, and pointed at our new addition. “Mug of….?” I trailed off, raising an eyebrow at Conroy.

“Oh… uh, gosh…” Conroy’s eyes darted along the counter behind the bar. “Um… what’s good?”

“Well, the ale’s not bad. Or there’s the ale, if you’re feeling bold. Or you can try the ale.”

“I’ll uh… ale sounds good. Thank you, sir!”

Larry grunted, drew a tankard of ale, scraped the foam from the top with the back of his hand, and slid it down to Conroy.

I raised my tankard, and the rest of the lads followed suit. “To Conroy then. One week in the woods, and he still has all his fingers and toes!”

“Hear, hear!” Shouted the crew, and we all tossed back a round. Well, my lads did, anyway. Conroy wound up wearing most of his. Enthusiastic boy, as I said.

“Thanks again, sir,” he stammered, as his tried to wipe his chin with his sleeve. “It’s an honor to drink with you. But, what was that you were talking about when I came in, Tom? Who she…?”

“You don’t know about the Hooshewah, boy? Yer mam never told you about it?”

The new kid shook his head, and Tom looked nonplussed.

“What, never? And with you signing on to work in the woods? That’s no good, is it lads?” A rumble of assent came from the rest of the bar, as well as a few nods around the room. “Forewarned is forearmed, as the boss is so fond of sayin’. Whaddya say, Trug? You’ve got the gift of the tellin’, after all. Boy’s long overdue for an education, I say.”

I gave Conrad a slow, considering look. The poor kid looked back, trying to put on a keen and attentive air, but I could see a seed of fear buried deep inside. Perfect.

“Aye, overdue indeed. Pour us another round, Larry, and secure those shutters.” Conroy watched, wide-eyed, as Larry went around the Dregs, pulling closed the storm shutters on each window and barring them tight. I snapped my fingers to regain the boy’s attention.

“Over here, Connie boy. Don’t you worry about Larry or those shutters, just taking the necessary precautions. We don’t talk about the Hooshewah with the windows open, y’see. All it takes is the wrong word or two on the wind, and… well. You’ll know soon enough. Now listen close, lad, and hear the tale of the demonwood itself, the Hooshewah…”

The lantern swung noisily on its hook above the tavern door as the wind and rain buffeted the squat building he now stood before at the side of the road. He had not walked far - perhaps a mile, maybe two - and yet it had taken him far longer than he thought possible. Traveling on foot was not an every day affair for Constantine. He was accustomed to riding on horseback, and the incessant rain beating down on him as if to hammer him into the very earth had made travel that much worse.

"For the love of Kedryn, this had better be worth the effort," he cursed as he looked briefly to the angry skies, then pulled his hood tighter about his face and pushed open the door of the tavern.

Stepping into the warm light of the large room inside, he looked around at the humble furnishings and those who had gathered there this night. There was a small man sitting alone at a table setting a pair of dice with a practiced hand. A Kypiq? A tall, gaunt and unnaturally pale man having a heated argument with a short ill-tempered woman. Dras and Hrothi. Well that's interesting. Quite possibly the boniest woman alive was sitting quietly in a corner nursing a drink looking as though she were waiting for the dead to arrive. What in the name of the Seven is that on her ghoulish face?

He crossed the room with impatient steps and reached a hand into his pocket as he approached the bartender.

"Evenin' guvnah," greeted the bartender. "So what'll it be tonight?"

"Blessed be the month of Ocei," Constantine replied, gesturing a sign of devotion to Kedryn. "A round of your best drink and whatever you're serving tonight."

"Right. A flagon of ale and leg o' lamb, comin' right up for ya guv-".

"No, not for me. For everyone else that's here tonight," Constantine interrupted with a raised hand, sliding a few gold crowns across the bar with the other that he had fished out of his pocket.

"Blessed be the month indeed," the bartender replied as he eyed the gold coins hungrily and swept them up in the palm of his hand. "I never seen one gold crown milord, let 'lone so many. My word."

Quickly wiping the sweat off his brow, he turned then marched into the kitchen bellowing orders and clapping his hands to urge people into action.

Stepping away from the scene he had stirred and heading back out of the tavern, Constantine couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. It felt good to do things for those who rarely saw any good in their lives. He just ... needed to be reminded of it again.

"And blessed be Kedryn," he breathed, basking momentarily in the wisdom of the night's ritual before braving the storm outside once more. It had been worth the effort after all.

It was just a bit after sunset and Nelanie had finally closing up shop the evening, taking one last look around the alchemy shop ensuring that all the bottles were in the right place and nothing was out in the open in case someone decided to break in. With a small on her face, she pulled out her key locking the door, then proceeded to place it back into her pocket, pulling her cloak around her to preserve some heat as the chill in the evening.

Walking away from the shop she made her way down the street, her short height and tiny body making it easy for her to weave in and out as made her way to her second business. Stopping suddenly feeling as if someone was watching her she turned around but saw no one out of the ordinary, her eyes caught a small glimpse of her Lord's castle, causing a small blush to rise to her cheeks as she remembers their first meeting it was only just a few years ago and she was still in training to take over the family clinic. Shaking her head a tiny bit not wanting to waste time thinking about the past she quickly made her way to her destination.

It didn't take too long as she looked up at the sign it was written in Pyqsi but the picture of the mug of ale made it easy for anyone to know that it was a tavern. Placing her hand on the wooden door it was still strange that even after all these years that she walked on the ground, that both of the business that her family owned was not high up in the trees but instead closer to the earth. Yet again it amazed her but it was life, pressing again the door she opened it allowing the warm air to escape outside as the sounds of cheer and merriment reached her ears. Minus all the all the cheers she also was greeted by people saying hi to her welcoming her back. Quickly stepping inside closing the door behind her.

"I'm home." She said in a soft whisper before making her way past the bar heading towards the upstairs. It wasn't unknown that "Love Potion" also had rooms upstairs for those who were not stable enough return home or visitors to the city to stay at after having a drink. Though only a few people knew that she had a room at the tavern that she turned into her personal bedroom and workroom for when she did not wish to return home. Once upstairs she made her way down the hall towards the last room, sliding a different key out her pocket she unlocked the door and slipped inside, not bothering to lock the door behind her since she was just going to change from her work clothes.

After a quick change, she put her hair up in a ponytail and gave herself one look in the mirror. The dress was a simple dark green with vine designs it hugged her body but was still a bit lose and easy for movements, smiling at herself she left the room locking the door behind her before proceeding downstairs. Walking towards the bar she smiled at the old man behind it.

"Papa... I'm tired... why do I have to run the shop, be on the council and still be here at night to watch the bar for an hour." Nelanie whined to the old man better know as her father.

It's been a while since I done this but thank you for the chance to do this once again.

I walked into the tavern and seen a sign that read:

Pint of Ale: 1 Copper

Trison Sandwhich: 3 Coppers

Hand Job: 1 Gold

I quickly checked my leather coin pouch and beckoned to the sexy wench.

"Are you the one who gives the hand jobs?" I asked.

"Yes," she purred, batting her lashes. "I am."

"Well, wash your fuckin' hands... I want a Trison Sandwhich!"

I forsee much fun reading these aloud on the Jax and Gora show this weekend! Folks have a few more days to enter.

Journal Entry #131

3 weeks I’ve been in the woods, 3 whole fucking weeks throwing seeds at the road because Marquis told me the pilgrimage would be a “good opportunity”. I MAKE HONEY! I DON’T need opportunities, besides these roads have been basically picked clean already, what’s it supposed to be a good opportunity for? Heat stroke?

At least I’ve reached the next inn, the sun’s nearly killed me.