Aitana strolled into the new home of the old bar. It was up to its old tricks of rolling slightly at just the right moment to slop a mug of ale into the lap of an unwary patron. She stiffled a laugh when the outraged orc jumped up and started to yell at the elf that had just served the drink. Apparently the orc was new here.
She took a seat at one end of the bar and the elf scurried over, apparently glad to have an excuse to talk to somebody else.
"What can I get for you today, Miss Tallbear? The usual?"
She grinned and nodded. The elf was efficient; he already had her drink in hand. It was so like home, but the thought of that made her frown.
"What have you heard, Mythrael? Have you heard any hints or rumors that might tell us why the dragons attacked? And what happened to that shard we were studying?"
A stop at the tavern
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Aitana
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A stop at the tavern
"And in the end it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years." ~ Abraham Lincoln
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