Author Topic: A night at the Thornhedge Inn  (Read 705 times)

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Offline Wildfire

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A night at the Thornhedge Inn
« on: August 28, 2005, 06:45:02 PM »
Outside the Thornhedge Inn are many festivities. There is an open fire venison roast that many will soon partake in. Cooks and servants see to the cooking meat as tenderly as if it were there own child. One vigilant cook turns the large slab of meat on a spit moving it neither too fast or too slow. Another cook bastes the meat with spiced sauce allowing it to roast while maintaining the succulence. The smell of this endeavor is wafting through the cool night air causing many to ask when it will be served.

Tankards of various ales are being handed out, for a small price of course, and many have had more than their fair fill of the amber brew. Wines are being tasted and compared by the well to do of towns folk and travelers that can afford it. To accompany the wines are a variety of cheeses and dried fruits. Meads flavored with apples, pears, grapes, feyberries, raspberries, strawberries, and other fruits are also there to be had.

Dancing through the crowd of jolly folk is a line of minstrels playing drums, pipes, horns, and strings. The tunes they play are met with equal fervor with songs sung by the gypsies that also dance their way amidst the happy mob. Many of the women gypsies fancy up to the drunken men giving them a sense of lusty hope only to tease them by gleefully dancing away.

Acrobats dressed in outrageously colored clothes adorned with jinglebells dwell on one edge of the crowd performing flips, twists, and balancing acts delighting onlookers, especially children. On another side of the crowd, jugglers pass flaming batons amongst themselves weaving a dazzling, fiery web.

The demeanor inside the Inn is a bit more sedate than the outside fest. On one side of the bottom level meals are being served up to the seated patrons by bustling waitresses. There is lots of idle chatter and laughing at a raised volume so that people might hear the other who is talking to him. The other side of the ground floor is enraptured by a band of troubadours singing in verse to haunting music. The song they sing speaks of the commoner achieving great things simply by believing that he can.

In this night at the Thornhedge the rich speak with the poor, the young speak with the old, and the meek speak with the strong. For all share the one thing that they have in common: life. They are here enjoying the night, the company, and their fortunes, be they great or small. After all, times could change for the worse at any moment.

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity