The small tavern was nearly empty; a bad sign for such an establishment when the sun was already on its way down. On the thin road leading past the Twin Adder encampment, Y'lyfriel Sikah had heard whispers of Ixal encroachment. She'd never seen the feathered beastmen, only had heard stories, and whispers of their near danger had quickened her step.
Not that she had felt any safer when the sun dipped below the trees, and the only safe haven was this small tavern, the few dwellings surrounding it, all huddled inside of a low, wood wall that Lyf could practically see over, if she stood on the tips of her toes.
Regardless, she had ducked inside without talking to anyone. Two grizzled elezen, a man and a woman, were huddled up to the bar, talking to the hyur bartender. The man cleaned wooden cups with a scrap of cloth as he chuckled at some joke one of the elezen had told.
The only other patron, aside from Lyf, was a lalafell. He was asleep in the corner, slumped in his chair with a feathered hat pulled low over his face. A bow and quiver--appropriately small for the little fellow--leaned against his chair.
Y'lyfriel sat still for nearly a bell, flipping through the memorized pages of her grimoire to pass the time. Eventually, when nobody else arrived, and the only sound was the muffled talk of those at the bar, she got to her feet, intent on ordering a drink. Just as she did, the door opened, and a hurried Wood Wailer pushed his face in, glanced around at the tavern's occupants, then quickly ducked out.
Not that she had felt any safer when the sun dipped below the trees, and the only safe haven was this small tavern, the few dwellings surrounding it, all huddled inside of a low, wood wall that Lyf could practically see over, if she stood on the tips of her toes.
Regardless, she had ducked inside without talking to anyone. Two grizzled elezen, a man and a woman, were huddled up to the bar, talking to the hyur bartender. The man cleaned wooden cups with a scrap of cloth as he chuckled at some joke one of the elezen had told.
The only other patron, aside from Lyf, was a lalafell. He was asleep in the corner, slumped in his chair with a feathered hat pulled low over his face. A bow and quiver--appropriately small for the little fellow--leaned against his chair.
Y'lyfriel sat still for nearly a bell, flipping through the memorized pages of her grimoire to pass the time. Eventually, when nobody else arrived, and the only sound was the muffled talk of those at the bar, she got to her feet, intent on ordering a drink. Just as she did, the door opened, and a hurried Wood Wailer pushed his face in, glanced around at the tavern's occupants, then quickly ducked out.
