[The Pig's Foot Tavern] Nightly Plays [Open]

[Odgar]

AV 511, 2nd day of Spring Odgar was working his needle in the corner of the tavern. He sat with his padded armor on the table, repairing the stitches that held it together. It was warm inside, the heat generated of the many people in the tavern. Odgar wiped a sweatdrop off his brow and took a swig of his flagon. He watched the many strangers come and go as they entered The Pig's Foot or took their leave for the chill night outside. They were mostly freeriders, merchants, scumbags, travelers or plain commoners, each adding to the mass of people filling the room with their shouts and laughter. The Pig was thriving tonight, its floor sticky with spilled ale and its ceiling greased with condense. He hoped somewhat that someone would take seat by his table. He would not mind to hear of the latest news and rumours of the city, nor a little company in this tavern with no recogniseable faces. Else he would have to take action himself and start engaging in one of the drunken conversations about. Odgar pressed the thick needle hard through the padded armor, his fingertip numb from the pressure. He would have to sew two more connections between the collar of his padded vest. He wondered if he would manage to finish it if he kept drinking.