Chapter 6: Wandering Words

We stepped into the mirthful tavern, firstly noticing the noisy and warm barrier from the chilly outdoors. Jovial gossip, laughter, and music filled the air, swirling smells of alcohol, sweat, and prepared fare. Many bodies that crammed themselves across the bar and scattered tables were obviously local inhabitants, easily shifting from group to group, all knowing each other. The majority of the guests were ulmi humi, with a few other races and species dotted here and there. Many a table had card and coin scattered amid food and ale, none seemed to take any game too seriously.

The sayk was beginning to dip below the horizon outside, most inside probably having an evening of fun after a long day's toil; this was not to say that there weren’t any strangers that came to this tavern for a nights stay. Towards the back, hanging close to the bar, was a clear line between the two patrons, the townsfolk and the outsiders. The visitors were louder and more drunk than the rest. Yet the way they stayed away from the continually shifting mass of locals made it an easy assumption that they were not known to the town.

Like a moth to a flame, Xanrei slyly wavered her way to carouse with other foreigners. That was just as well, Jassen and I had planned to play here, hoping some kindly others may spare some change. First we would have to converse with the pianist playing, it would be rude of us to take his listeners without first asking. It was not assured that the musician would allow us to play where he did, but this was safer here than for us to try our luck on the streets.

The patrons here pay little attention to the musicians, their minds more on their food and friends. If we were to play on the street, we were more likely to have scrutinizing eyes cast our way. If anyone were to pay too close attention, they would see I have not fully taken over Jassen, call me sick for leaving before I had fully encased him, and probably run us out.

It was fairly difficult to get to the musician, the place was so packed that we had to squeeze between bodies and chairs just to cross the open floor. Luckily none paid us too much attention, a grunt or an excuse me was all that was given to us. The grand piano the musician was playing at was well worn, some keys having indentations from ages of pounding the same songs over and over.

Jassen shouted to be heard by the stout man. The musician turned to face us, his hand continuing to glide effortlessly across the ivory. Jassen made quick our intentions, the man nodded and ceased his tune. Getting up, his stature was taller than I had thought, reaching a forehead above Jassen. He expressed his delight of our offer, the tavern pays him by nights he plays, so this would count as a paid break for him. Before he had a chance to escape into the crowd, Jassen inquired if customers were oft to give tips. With a wave of his hand he assured we would not go unrewarded, and melded into the crowd of shifting bodies.

Jassen promptly began to set up his kes, trying to find a good place where it would not be kicked or shoved. He asked if I wanted to recite any poems for the performance, tales of venture always bringing in a bigger crowd. I declined, our voice would be gone by the morning with how loud I would need to be. With a shrug, Jassen began to play.

The new melody wafted its way through the thick air, immediately catching the attention of a few drunkards. The song Jassen chose to play first was one he had learned from a previous tavern, a drinking song longing for the way things were.

A few heavily inebriated men and women hopped up on the bar and began to sing, if it could even be called that. With Jassen having control of the situation, I decided to do what I have done for so long, listen and observe others around us. I tuned my ear to ignore the strings of his kes, and focused on a trio of relaxed men close to the stage.

They were all burly and blackened with the grit of mining. I would think they'd have stunk if I could smell anything more than the entire place at once. Their faces expressed both exhaustion and concern. Though I had grown more accustomed to the way most common people spoke, their way of speaking made their back and forths slightly more menacing.

The first man looked around, “Na many strangers n‘ night, prolly couldn’t afford anytin’ after they got snatched by the thief.”

The second man, smaller and with a grey line in his hair leaned back in his chair, “yeah, he’s been a real pain, what’re ya supposed to do when som’n’ else takes money from ya customers?”

The third man, shirtless and hair covering his chest shook his head, “I know what ya mean, the miss keeps houndin’ me.” The man crudely mimics, “last month you promised I could get a new set uh borhn. heh, like I ever had ‘nough money t’ buy that kind uh stuff.”

“n’ t’ think,” the second man rubbed his dirty hands into his sweaty forehead, “this guy can just up ‘n’ take from whoever. Like, he’s even taken from transports bringing us equipment. We paid fer those to be guarded, ‘n’ here they come with nothin’ but an empty cart and their clothes.” Before the man finished, third man noticed “Jassen” staring and hushed into the noise of the crowd.

I turned my attention away from them and to a new table of middle aged women. Three were humi but there was one drake amongst them, a little wyvern. As though they had waited for me to join them, they had just changed topics to begin a new conversation.

One of the ladies who had vermilion Bohrn gloves, and presumably boots too, though I could not see, eyed all the others as she spoke, “Did ya hear about the newly crowned phora? They say that she’s already made huge changes for her colony, ‘n’ that other phora might try to get rid uh her.”

“Why should we care,” said the wyvern, “their half a world away ‘n’ we have our own problems here.”

“Because Julie, the changes she’s making are huge.”

Another, fairly portly woman interjected, “I hear she’s removing government funding of her temples”

The portly woman too was cut off by the other table mate, “Well that’s probably because of what happened to the pre…”

I soon lost their gossip into indistinct murmurs in the crowd. I listen to more and more dialogues. Two women gently spoke to one another, “you should probably keep him on a tight leash. I hear a few town over that some kids have gone missing.”

Another chat between a humi man who spoke warmly to a female keupaal, this I know because of her utterly bland wings. ‘I’s alright, I’m sure Eetiih will be fine. If she’s as smart as you say she’ll make it out alive, I’m sure.’

The burgundy keupaal sobs into her own speech, ‘but ya don’t understand, from what I’ve heard the government is having all insurgents killed, I haven't heard from there in ages. I’m jus…’

And another conversation between two young humi right around Jassen’s age. One punched the other on the shoulder beaming with envy and curiosity, ‘where’d ya find the money to get that murn, I thought telekinetics were super expensive.’

The other rubbed his sleeved shoulder, ‘They are, I’ve been saving up for it. It makes life so much easier. I’m able to handle the machines ‘n’ walk ‘round at the same time. Sure it takes some gettin’ used to, ‘n’ I’m not to practiced in nep, but if all goes well the stupid machines will never take any of my fingers.’

I went on to try to listen to more conversations, but the uproar caused by Janssens playing became too much. I gave in and let my mind wander to the sweet sounds.