The Bard’s Song
By J.M. Snyder
Rumor had it there was a new bard at Jéànty’s
Inn. A half-elf flautist with a flawless reed—Taurin had to see for
himself. After maneuvers one night he left the palace grounds and
headed for the well-lit inn on the outskirts of town. Sitting down
at the bar, he motioned for the bargirl and ordered a tall drink,
straight up. “Strongest thing you’ve got,” he said.
“Knights like you usually go for the arla,”
she said, wiping a glass out before setting it down in front of
him. Pouring a frothy amber liquid from a dark bottle, she
appraised him with a knowing eye. “Off duty?”
Taurin nodded. Looking around, he took in the
wooden tables, most already full despite the early hour. “Quite a
crowd you have.” He sipped from the glass. The brew was heady and
