Post by Tandar on Jul 18, 2011 23:16:35 GMT -5
The following takes place 5 weeks after the events in Directives from the Boarshead.
Dearest Brandwyn,
Polaris scratched the words onto the piece of fine parchment on the counter in front of him. Several of the other patrons cast curious glances, but no one disturbed him. The tavern was not busy this late at night, and the atmosphere was rather quiet. "Pour me another beer." The Ranger shoved his empty glass across the polished counter. The bartender topped off his glass with frothy, amber liquid for the umpteenth time.
I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you. There is something I should let you know.
Polaris picked up the full glass and poured it down his throat without pausing. Slamming the glass down on the bar, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and continued writing.
I won’t be able to make it to the winter festival in Norgate like I thought. I still wish you a good time, but we will have to postpone our reunion for a while. Take care of yourself.
“I need a refill.”
The man behind the counter looked up from the mug he was wiping and shook his head in protest. "I think you've had enough for tonight, Tandar." Polaris had visited the establishment frequently throughout the week, and the bartender now knew him by name. The Ranger’s temper flared, and he pretended he didn’t hear.
"On second thought," Polaris said, "I'll have the rum."
"I'm sorry," the bartender began. “I think you need to leave.”
Polaris stood up so fast the stool he had been sitting on fell over causing everyone to fall silent and stare. He bristled.
“You’re drunk,” the bartender stated simply.
Two burly patrons approached Tandar to gently shift him toward the door. They wouldn’t dare touch him if he was wearing his cloak or any Ranger identification, but he had given up those things, chosen not to wear them until he was fit to do so. Polaris shrugged off the hands and eyed the men coldly. “I am not drunk.” Snatching the letter from the counter while trying to ignore the stares, he turned and stumbled out into the crisp night air.
Love,
Tandar
Dearest Brandwyn,
Polaris scratched the words onto the piece of fine parchment on the counter in front of him. Several of the other patrons cast curious glances, but no one disturbed him. The tavern was not busy this late at night, and the atmosphere was rather quiet. "Pour me another beer." The Ranger shoved his empty glass across the polished counter. The bartender topped off his glass with frothy, amber liquid for the umpteenth time.
I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you. There is something I should let you know.
Polaris picked up the full glass and poured it down his throat without pausing. Slamming the glass down on the bar, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and continued writing.
I won’t be able to make it to the winter festival in Norgate like I thought. I still wish you a good time, but we will have to postpone our reunion for a while. Take care of yourself.
“I need a refill.”
The man behind the counter looked up from the mug he was wiping and shook his head in protest. "I think you've had enough for tonight, Tandar." Polaris had visited the establishment frequently throughout the week, and the bartender now knew him by name. The Ranger’s temper flared, and he pretended he didn’t hear.
"On second thought," Polaris said, "I'll have the rum."
"I'm sorry," the bartender began. “I think you need to leave.”
Polaris stood up so fast the stool he had been sitting on fell over causing everyone to fall silent and stare. He bristled.
“You’re drunk,” the bartender stated simply.
Two burly patrons approached Tandar to gently shift him toward the door. They wouldn’t dare touch him if he was wearing his cloak or any Ranger identification, but he had given up those things, chosen not to wear them until he was fit to do so. Polaris shrugged off the hands and eyed the men coldly. “I am not drunk.” Snatching the letter from the counter while trying to ignore the stares, he turned and stumbled out into the crisp night air.
Love,
Tandar