53nd Spring
513 AV, 21st bell
For a first visit, the lanky man thought it might have been terribly overdue. The dull throb of the crowds had been visible even from the outside. Men and women gathered around tables or one another, stories and conversations shared over a good glass. It was both an inviting and terrifying atmosphere at the same time.
Had this been any other day Kirin would have found a way to sneak himself into one of the crowds that was sure to surround a good story, he loved a good story. But, that would have been an insult to today. Well, today was already an insult to today. It was a day, by any account, that should have come years ago already. Perhaps running had only put it further off till the day felt easier to avoid than to face.
The door to the tavern creaked open as he walked inside, his staff making a light clicking against the floor as he walked through the crowds. An appropriate position was found, a decent enough seat between two similarly empty seats. It seemed the most appropriate place to exist for this sort of thing, invisible company aside. His staff found a nice neat home resting against the chair beside him and soon a server found her way to him.
"I'll have a mug of whatever, and could you please set out one of you finest right beside," Kirin unceremoniously laid out a gold miza for the woman to take. He didn't mind overly, if there was one thing he had told himself, it was that a small bit of money here or there was worth spending. At least, his stories always said so, "Use the rest to buy one for whoever comes in right up until it's gone. It's a celebration."
He hardly sounded convinced of that himself as she disappeared off to fill his order. A celebration, he told himself, was exactly what his father would have called this. Or, that is what he would have wanted it treated as.
Minutes later the two drinks made there way back to the smith and his long dead companion. Four years, four years was entirely too long to wait for something like this. He had kept telling himself that they had never seen eye to eye, that Kirin wasn't here to honour the memory. Still, for everything they had put each other through, Kirin was starting to understand the man just a little bit more. And, that was worth drinking to.
A few minutes, and less than half of the original mug later, Kirin was aware of one painful thing. He was by far more of a lightweight than those he had read about. The stories he read always talked about drinking entire mugs in one go, and he was feeling off after less than half of one. It wasn't an entirely bad thing, it brought out the emotions he had thought long since buried and a bit of his less than affluent accent, "Here's ta you da'. We may naught a seen eye ta eye, but four years ain't so bad for a lesson."
His mug clinked together with the unattended one as he continued on his path to gods knew where. Who knew, maybe the night would barter some company.
513 AV, 21st bell
For a first visit, the lanky man thought it might have been terribly overdue. The dull throb of the crowds had been visible even from the outside. Men and women gathered around tables or one another, stories and conversations shared over a good glass. It was both an inviting and terrifying atmosphere at the same time.
Had this been any other day Kirin would have found a way to sneak himself into one of the crowds that was sure to surround a good story, he loved a good story. But, that would have been an insult to today. Well, today was already an insult to today. It was a day, by any account, that should have come years ago already. Perhaps running had only put it further off till the day felt easier to avoid than to face.
The door to the tavern creaked open as he walked inside, his staff making a light clicking against the floor as he walked through the crowds. An appropriate position was found, a decent enough seat between two similarly empty seats. It seemed the most appropriate place to exist for this sort of thing, invisible company aside. His staff found a nice neat home resting against the chair beside him and soon a server found her way to him.
"I'll have a mug of whatever, and could you please set out one of you finest right beside," Kirin unceremoniously laid out a gold miza for the woman to take. He didn't mind overly, if there was one thing he had told himself, it was that a small bit of money here or there was worth spending. At least, his stories always said so, "Use the rest to buy one for whoever comes in right up until it's gone. It's a celebration."
He hardly sounded convinced of that himself as she disappeared off to fill his order. A celebration, he told himself, was exactly what his father would have called this. Or, that is what he would have wanted it treated as.
Minutes later the two drinks made there way back to the smith and his long dead companion. Four years, four years was entirely too long to wait for something like this. He had kept telling himself that they had never seen eye to eye, that Kirin wasn't here to honour the memory. Still, for everything they had put each other through, Kirin was starting to understand the man just a little bit more. And, that was worth drinking to.
A few minutes, and less than half of the original mug later, Kirin was aware of one painful thing. He was by far more of a lightweight than those he had read about. The stories he read always talked about drinking entire mugs in one go, and he was feeling off after less than half of one. It wasn't an entirely bad thing, it brought out the emotions he had thought long since buried and a bit of his less than affluent accent, "Here's ta you da'. We may naught a seen eye ta eye, but four years ain't so bad for a lesson."
His mug clinked together with the unattended one as he continued on his path to gods knew where. Who knew, maybe the night would barter some company.