Rott3nAppl3s
03-16-2004, 02:27 AM
The Tale of the Ghynne Tavern
Few nights bore such cruel elements as this; the sharp bite of the wind penetrated anything exposed, particularly the seemingly helpless citizens of Ghynne. The hour was late and the sun had not shown itself for what seemed to be weeks… tens of weeks. The winters of Ghynne were harsher than most, but the people managed to survive night after night of blistering cold. A small tavern kept the spirits of these people intact, for its fires burned throughout day and night, providing sweet cooked ciders and steaming wheat rolls.
A thick cone of smoke pushed its way through the inadequate brick chimney of the precarious looking tavern; the fireplace burned hot, with several old men placed haphazardly around it. Most of the rugged old men contributed to the smoke that was beginning to build around the fire by puffing away at their own pipes. Each time the seal of the heavy wooden door was broken, time seemed to freeze within the tavern, blasting the population with a bitter taste of what reality was like outside the heat of the fires. The flames of the various lanterns around the room cast dancing shadows upon the walls and ceilings; each fighting to escape the cold every time the door was opened.
The door opened briefly and closed again; the bulk of the men looked up in unison as if not expecting the light of the fires to flicker around the room. There stood a tall slender figure in a long brown hooded cloak, crossing its arms. Snow had frozen itself within every wrinkle of the cloak, signifying the shadowy figure had been enduring the cold for quite some time. The figure moved swiftly across the room and took the seat furthest from the fire, facing away from the group of men.
“It’s those kinna’ people’at put a worry about me.” stated one of the eldest men quietly.
“Had’ta done somethin’ awful to be travelin’ in this weather. Makin’ a run for, I’d say.” replied the man next to him, staring down into the mellow ripples of his cider.
Two of the men sitting furthest from the fire got up and shuffled slowly over to a closer table as to make discussion about the mysterious traveler. The old woman who was working the bar wearily carried a large mug of cider to the traveler and placed it before him. The traveler nodded, and the old maid quickly returned to the bar.
The table had accumulated a group of five men by this point, each throwing out random ideas as to why the shadowy figure would be traveling in these conditions.
“Killt some’n. I can tell it like it’s as real as day.” sputtered a bald man with a long grey beard.
“He ain’t killt no one. Probably stole him a chick’n or a big ole’ swine. Tryin’ to ‘vade the owners, tha’s all.” snapped a plump old man.
“I’m telling ya’, probably came to a place jes’ like this and killed evry’one innit. He done somethin’ awful I can tell it. Didn’t steal no pig or nothin’.. no sir. He killt him a man or two.”
“Now why you both gonna’ go off thinkin’ somethin’ like that? Probably didn’t do no harm to nothin’, probably just got tired of sittin’ round at a broke down tavern list’nin to old bastards gossip’n, so he decided to get up and make change for ‘imself.” growled a voice from a worn old face, rugged with wrinkles.
The two men who had remained silent nodded at this remark and continued to listen to what the others had to say.
“I know he killt someone, it’s jes’ a matter of who he killt, and when.”
“You damned fool, could’na been no killin, else we’da heard bout it by now. If all he done was steal some livestock, ain’t no one gonna write up a newspaper for it. That’s why we haven’t done heard’a him.”
“I betcha’ he killt that one boy… son’a the preacher! He ain’t been seen for ‘least three days.” announced the bearded man with excitement as if he’d solved the mystery.
Before he realized how loud he’d declared his revelation, the cloaked figure rose to its feet and faced the table. It wasn’t possible to recognize a face within the depth of the hood; the men all noticed what had happened and straightened their posture, then leaned forward in an attempt to make a more secluded group, hoping the dark figure would turn around and take its seat again.
The mysterious traveler did not take its seat, however. The figure slowly pulled itself out of the shadows, cloak dragging on the ground, and approached the five men gathered at a the table.
The wrinkled old man looked up towards the face of the traveler, in an attempt to fix the mistake made by his thoughtless comrade.
“He didn’t mean no harm, he’s just par’noid like that. Please don’t think nothing of it, okay?”
The cloaked figure reached into its sleeve and began to produce something from the shadow. The men were nearly paralyzed in fear, clenching tightly to their chairs and trying not to relay their fright.
The traveler drew its hand from the sleeve holding a pipe, slowly put it in the shadow of the hood, and then withdrew its hand. The figure cautiously reached up with both hands and grabbed either side of the hood, pulling it backwards to reveal the mysterious face.
“Do any of you fine gentlemen have a match?” released the soft voice of a lady.
Few nights bore such cruel elements as this; the sharp bite of the wind penetrated anything exposed, particularly the seemingly helpless citizens of Ghynne. The hour was late and the sun had not shown itself for what seemed to be weeks… tens of weeks. The winters of Ghynne were harsher than most, but the people managed to survive night after night of blistering cold. A small tavern kept the spirits of these people intact, for its fires burned throughout day and night, providing sweet cooked ciders and steaming wheat rolls.
A thick cone of smoke pushed its way through the inadequate brick chimney of the precarious looking tavern; the fireplace burned hot, with several old men placed haphazardly around it. Most of the rugged old men contributed to the smoke that was beginning to build around the fire by puffing away at their own pipes. Each time the seal of the heavy wooden door was broken, time seemed to freeze within the tavern, blasting the population with a bitter taste of what reality was like outside the heat of the fires. The flames of the various lanterns around the room cast dancing shadows upon the walls and ceilings; each fighting to escape the cold every time the door was opened.
The door opened briefly and closed again; the bulk of the men looked up in unison as if not expecting the light of the fires to flicker around the room. There stood a tall slender figure in a long brown hooded cloak, crossing its arms. Snow had frozen itself within every wrinkle of the cloak, signifying the shadowy figure had been enduring the cold for quite some time. The figure moved swiftly across the room and took the seat furthest from the fire, facing away from the group of men.
“It’s those kinna’ people’at put a worry about me.” stated one of the eldest men quietly.
“Had’ta done somethin’ awful to be travelin’ in this weather. Makin’ a run for, I’d say.” replied the man next to him, staring down into the mellow ripples of his cider.
Two of the men sitting furthest from the fire got up and shuffled slowly over to a closer table as to make discussion about the mysterious traveler. The old woman who was working the bar wearily carried a large mug of cider to the traveler and placed it before him. The traveler nodded, and the old maid quickly returned to the bar.
The table had accumulated a group of five men by this point, each throwing out random ideas as to why the shadowy figure would be traveling in these conditions.
“Killt some’n. I can tell it like it’s as real as day.” sputtered a bald man with a long grey beard.
“He ain’t killt no one. Probably stole him a chick’n or a big ole’ swine. Tryin’ to ‘vade the owners, tha’s all.” snapped a plump old man.
“I’m telling ya’, probably came to a place jes’ like this and killed evry’one innit. He done somethin’ awful I can tell it. Didn’t steal no pig or nothin’.. no sir. He killt him a man or two.”
“Now why you both gonna’ go off thinkin’ somethin’ like that? Probably didn’t do no harm to nothin’, probably just got tired of sittin’ round at a broke down tavern list’nin to old bastards gossip’n, so he decided to get up and make change for ‘imself.” growled a voice from a worn old face, rugged with wrinkles.
The two men who had remained silent nodded at this remark and continued to listen to what the others had to say.
“I know he killt someone, it’s jes’ a matter of who he killt, and when.”
“You damned fool, could’na been no killin, else we’da heard bout it by now. If all he done was steal some livestock, ain’t no one gonna write up a newspaper for it. That’s why we haven’t done heard’a him.”
“I betcha’ he killt that one boy… son’a the preacher! He ain’t been seen for ‘least three days.” announced the bearded man with excitement as if he’d solved the mystery.
Before he realized how loud he’d declared his revelation, the cloaked figure rose to its feet and faced the table. It wasn’t possible to recognize a face within the depth of the hood; the men all noticed what had happened and straightened their posture, then leaned forward in an attempt to make a more secluded group, hoping the dark figure would turn around and take its seat again.
The mysterious traveler did not take its seat, however. The figure slowly pulled itself out of the shadows, cloak dragging on the ground, and approached the five men gathered at a the table.
The wrinkled old man looked up towards the face of the traveler, in an attempt to fix the mistake made by his thoughtless comrade.
“He didn’t mean no harm, he’s just par’noid like that. Please don’t think nothing of it, okay?”
The cloaked figure reached into its sleeve and began to produce something from the shadow. The men were nearly paralyzed in fear, clenching tightly to their chairs and trying not to relay their fright.
The traveler drew its hand from the sleeve holding a pipe, slowly put it in the shadow of the hood, and then withdrew its hand. The figure cautiously reached up with both hands and grabbed either side of the hood, pulling it backwards to reveal the mysterious face.
“Do any of you fine gentlemen have a match?” released the soft voice of a lady.