[Saurreg]

Sorry! Sorry! Here's my second post that will be immediately after Envinyatar's.
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Saurreg's post

Andas Loudewater had just reached the front porch of the most popular drinking hole in the whole of Bree when large raindrops started to fall, creating tiny little craters on the much used dirt road. Dark clouds rumbled precariously overhead, blocking out whatever light the setting sun could offer and enveloped the entire evening sky in black velvet from horizon to horizon and as far as the eye could see. Loudewater frowned to himself and sighed deeply as he pulled the hood of the cope off his head, this night would offer nothing but heavy down pour and his creaky joints would pay the dear price.

Damned rheumatism, damned age. What I wouldn’t give to be twenty years younger again.

The grease caked windows of the establishment were illuminated weakly by lit lamps and a sonorous burble could be felt through vibes that shook the loose floorboards of the porch - it was the sing-a-long, happy hour had begun.

The Breeland farmer took a deep breath and readied himself mentally as would an athlete before the race. After a momentary pause, he swung open the door of the Prancing Pony and confronted destiny head on. Rising to the occasion, destiny sprung forward like an uncoiled spring and smashed into Loudewater’s face. The farmer staggered but recovered himself quickly enough; years of patronizing the Prancing Pony had somewhat dwindled the potency its overwhelmingly pungent whiff on him but for the uninitiated, the whole affair of simply entering the tavern could be an insurmountable ordeal. Butterbur had never believed in the concept of proper workplace hygiene and many a newcomers had paid the price. More than often regulars like Loudewater and even old Butterbur himself had heckled at unfamiliar faces contorting in agony followed by the whizzing (they always whiz) and the occasional nausea.

It was all good “clean” harmless fun really. But incidents do happen, those that make simpletons like the good folks of Bree go “hmmm”

Once, an elven wayfarer (dainty and disturbingly pretty in a girly way) tried to enter the Prancing Pony (don’t ask why) and results were somewhat horrific… (For the faerie that is).

Suffice say, that incident was significant enough for Butterbur to go “hmmm” and the next day after the tragic affair, Loudewater saw for the first and only time Butterbur scrubbing the floorboards and opening up the windows to air the place. It was a momentous event that Loudewater rated up there with the likes of the return of the king.

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Loudewater stepped through the doorway and entered the main serving hall of the tavern. The hospitable warmth radiating from the fireplace felt most comfortable and he permitted himself a wane smile of self-satisfaction. If there was any place he would want to be when a raging storm came along, it would be here.

The Prancing Pony was already packed to the walls when Loudewater entered. Breelanders of different walks of life and trades have already packed the benches and tables and were all bellowing in drunken unison with lusty voices, throats were well lubricated by free-flowing pints and cheap wine. It was “Roll out the Barrels!” a popular hit penned by the famous Susan Delgado and Loudewater found himself almost subconsciously humming along to the tunes of the ever popular folksong.

No one writes such great works anymore, he reflected sadly.

Loudewater’s head swerved upon his scrawny neck as he scrutinized the crowded room looking for some unoccupied spot for himself and perhaps a friend or two to interact with. Amidst the mass of swaying and rocking heads, and raised arms clenching tankards and goblets of spilling beverage, Loudewater’s dull eyes caught sight of an appendage belonging to a familiar face waving frantically in the air. Loudewater grinned at the familiar face, waved back and made his way through to the bar.

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