The heavy wooden door of the tavern creaked as Nolan pushed it open, the warmth from within seeping into his weary bones. He stepped inside, the familiar scent of ale and roasting meat washing over him like a comforting blanket. His gear clanked with every step, still speckled with the dark, sticky remnants of wyvern blood, and his cloak hung heavily on his shoulders, dirtied from the rough battle that had ended only hours before.
The patrons inside gave him a brief glance, their eyes lingering on the bloodied state of his armor before quickly turning back to their drinks. It wasn't the first time they'd seen someone walk in looking like they'd just crawled out of the belly of a beast, and it wouldn't be the last.
Nolan approached the bar, his boots dragging slightly as he moved. The bartender, a grizzled man with a salt-and-pepper beard, was busy pouring a drink for another customer. Nolan didn't mind the wait; it gave him a moment to let the exhaustion settle in. He leaned against the bar, his hand idly resting on the hilt of his sword, his fingers still stained from the battle.
As the bartender handed off the drink and turned towards him, Nolan straightened slightly, his voice low and gravelly from the dust of the road. "Ale. And keep it coming," he muttered, glancing around the room, his eyes scanning for anyone who looked like they might have a job worth his time. "And if you've got word of any work nearby, I'm all ears."
The bartender nodded, already reaching for a tankard. Nolan exhaled slowly, letting his guard down just a fraction. The wyvern had been a tough one, but it was done now. For the moment, he was content to let the tavern's warmth seep into his bones, ale in hand, and see what the evening might bring.
@Ceren Brynmor
The patrons inside gave him a brief glance, their eyes lingering on the bloodied state of his armor before quickly turning back to their drinks. It wasn't the first time they'd seen someone walk in looking like they'd just crawled out of the belly of a beast, and it wouldn't be the last.
Nolan approached the bar, his boots dragging slightly as he moved. The bartender, a grizzled man with a salt-and-pepper beard, was busy pouring a drink for another customer. Nolan didn't mind the wait; it gave him a moment to let the exhaustion settle in. He leaned against the bar, his hand idly resting on the hilt of his sword, his fingers still stained from the battle.
As the bartender handed off the drink and turned towards him, Nolan straightened slightly, his voice low and gravelly from the dust of the road. "Ale. And keep it coming," he muttered, glancing around the room, his eyes scanning for anyone who looked like they might have a job worth his time. "And if you've got word of any work nearby, I'm all ears."
The bartender nodded, already reaching for a tankard. Nolan exhaled slowly, letting his guard down just a fraction. The wyvern had been a tough one, but it was done now. For the moment, he was content to let the tavern's warmth seep into his bones, ale in hand, and see what the evening might bring.
@Ceren Brynmor
08-26-2024, 07:27 AM
