KOBOLDS ... in a pub. Open tavern thread.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The sense of satisfaction I got from clearing out the "blockage" at the bar was short lived. As the other Kobolds gathered around their wounded leader, tending to him with hurried precision and occasionally stopping to throw me an acidic glare, I was faced with something far worse than an enraged Kobold.

Philomel's finger, jabbing at me. Scolding me, of all things. Had I ever been told off by her? I couldn't remember a single occasion. Coming from my best friend, it felt like a hammer blow. On the other hand...

"I warned him." I shrugged, picking up my order from the bar and casually meandering through the mixed gathering of Kobolds, humans, elves and gods knows what. As I passed Storm's table, I made sure to drop him a tumbler of his favorite whiskey; a double short of that honey tinted stuff he drank in the High Tap. I didn't need to say anything to him right now; throughout our colourful relationship, we had said more to each other through the medium of donated beverages than any spoken language could have achieved. It had become a sort of unspoken code. A quick exchange of knowing glances was enough to convey the appropriate respects before I swivelled my hips through a human blockage to reach the faun's table.

Veridian sat perfectly in the cradle of Philomel's arms, keeping warm in the gap between her breasts and forearms. He regarded me with those illuminating eyes, before resting his head. With one hand I placed my ale on the table, and with the other placed a cup in front of my friend.

"Been waiting for an opportunity to use this," I said as I pulled a flask from the inner section of my navy drakescale coat, "I did my research. Headbutt is hard to get hold of, but I know you love the stuff. I'd been saving it."

After a moment, I realised that I hadn't answered my lover's question. What had I been doing?

"Well, I resigned my commission at the Brotherhood," I started. That would have come as a shock to her, doubtless, but with Storm within earshot it was best to let dogs lie, "So mostly I've been looking for a permanent place to live. Whitevale doesn't really cater for non-enlisted folk. At the moment, i'm training with Joshua Cronen, learning what I can from him."

Her beautiful eyes followed my hand gestures and own gaze everywhere, never once swaying. She was probably one of only two people in this place genuinely interested in my well being, and the only one who knew me well enough to know that right now I was probably at my lowest point. The story about training with Breaker was true but there was no way she'd be convinced that I was happy with loitering around Corone, popping out occasionally to do a few rounds with Cronen.

She knew I needed more. But more was circumstantial, and in short supply.

As I finished my rambling, I supped at my ale and tapped my fingers on the wooden table.

"What about you? How are things at the Gilded Lily?"