In Need of a Drink [Open] Jan 19, 2017 1:35:17 GMT -7
Post by Simon on Jan 19, 2017 1:35:17 GMT -7
The 14th of the Scales of Judgement, evening.
Simon needed a drink. Maybe more than a drink. The previous day had been a doozy and this morning had been only moderately better. That wasn't to say he hadn't enjoyed meeting Charlotte or helping out Tehodis or seeing Endless again, but the last had for the second time left him feeling a little out of sorts. Maybe a lot out of sorts. Perhaps a little frustrated. Like he had already thought, he needed a drink.
Boiss wasn't exactly a city of the night, but it had a tavern that attracted its fair share of tourists and locals hungry for something more. It was built into the trunk of a giant redwood, a living tree that had been carved out slowly over time by animals and then later taken over by humans to produce The Witless Woodpecker, as it was called nowadays. Likely named after the birds that had first begun to hollow the tree, and for the state of mind of those people inside its doors. Tonight Simon was going to be one of those people.
He sat at the bar, carved right out of the tree itself, and was already mostly finished the drink in front of him. It was true he had a variety of herbs and plants at home, dried or fresh, that all could have some very interesting effects on a person's mind, but sometimes a good old fashioned drink in a tavern was just what he needed. After all, a tavern had more than drinks - it had people. Simon was here for one of them too, hopefully. His tastes were many and varied, and for now he could settle for a good conversation but he knew that later he would need something more than just words to satisfy him. He needed to get someone out of his head and there were only two things for that, and he had already gotten a strong drink.
As usual, since he was out and about, he had taken some actual care in his appearance. Not a lot, but at least enough to not appear like a vagrant hermit. He wore simple brown slacks and a dark green tunic, a belt tied around it at the hips, and a pair of comfortable black boots. Nothing fancy, and all things that would be easy to remove later, but he looked more put together than most of the shabby outfits he wore at home. His hair wasn't even a complete mess yet, but that would surely come with time and drinks. Speaking of which, he knocked back the last of his drink and signalled to the barkeep to pour him another.