MoleBalian’s previous days travel had taken him along the banks of the river Gallow, a tried, tested and timeless way of ensuring that as long as your not robbed or killed by bandits you’ll make it to the town-stead of Galloway. He was not far from one of the two gates granting entrance to the town. Gorse had been spreading in the mild breezes that passed, the very thorny, evergreen bushes had blossomed their second and final abundance of yellow flowers. The ranger had thought about picking a load to flog off to one of the many traders in town, in plenty of towns he had passed over his years of travel the Gorse had been popular among the younger ladies coming into adulthood. However, he decided against it in favor of taking a proper night’s rest in the first town he had decided to stay longer than a few hours in months.
The sun beginning to set in the sky behind the walls and rooftops of Galloway looked almost picturesque, Balian shaded his eyes bringing a flat palm to his brow as he took in the scene. Taking a moment for a deep breath he hurried onwards, approaching the gate he was pulled away by a familiar voice, “Could it be? Has the midlands ranger returned?” The voice came in jest, the sort you would expect to be greeted with when a catch up with an old friend is long overdue. He turned his head to look at a man maybe a head shorter than Balian, a thin smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Balian, it’s been too long.” The man spoke as he approached the ranger, arms outspread. “You remember me don’t you?” He teased.
“How could I forget, Brother.” Balian replied, embracing his friend for a moment. These men were not brothers by blood but a bond stronger. “Leon, it’s good to see you.”
“Aye, that it is.” Leon replied, “Well, what tales have you to share since… Well it must be near two years by now. And where’s the lovely Morrigan you’re so fond of?” Leon noticed a sudden, subtle change in Balian’s eyes and before he could reply noted, “How about an ale? One thing I’ve always enjoyed about Galloway is the ale!” With that the ranger found himself relaying through the towns streets, catching up with his old friend. Despite being sunset, the town was still alive, merchants and vendors filled the market, children played games in the side streets while women carried baskets and guards stood at post, ensuring nothing under their eye goes astray.
It didn’t take the pair long to wind up in front of a dainty tavern. Certainly not the most extravagant tavern in Galloway but in the mind of Leon and Balian, the best. They found themselves sat by a table in a corner by the fire and over two tankards of Galloway Ale chat about anything and everything. Conversation lead on to seemingly unfounded rumors of Beastmen warbands already being this far South. Balian assured Leon that there was no such thing, having come from farther North with no signs of Beast Parties having come past the remains of Lindon yet.
The tavern was quiet enough, a few other patrons sat quiet mostly, drinking their ale, contemplating the day coming to a close. Balian looked around nodding in acknowledgement as he made eye contact with one such patron, an older man who hadn’t aged well and now spent his days in “The Retired Sword” drinking away memories past. The lighting in the tavern mostly came from the open fire, the sparse gas lanterns had been turned down low and most of the candles remained unlit. He took another drink, emptying his tankard and with his free hand wiped his upper lip of the froth on his lip as he put the tankard down. He took a small satchel and through a few silver crowns onto the table, “Next ones on me.”
Balian sat alone at the table he had been sharing with Leon, who had been rushed off by an associate, business was all the ranger managed to get from the conversation. That was like Leon, and it had been good to catch up with his old friend. It had grown darker outside, dusk had fallen over Galloway and Balian now warm and with a taste for the ale began to feel the fatigue of his journey. There was no doubt that he would be staying in the town at least one night, having secured one of the five guest rooms in the tavern. The warmth of the fire kept the whole tavern warm and the bar had begun fill out with more patrons flocking to it. The lighting in the tavern hadn't changed much yet, there was still not much need.
The patrons talked about a lot of things, mostly rumors, Balian discerned from harmlessly eavesdropping into a few of their conversations. Pestilence, Beastmen, Undead. He wondered how much was true, the beastmen of course were not made up but none had made it this far South yet. A pestilence spreading from the east? And the dead rising from their graves? He decided to wave them off as rumors although he knew not to count anything out, and if true, it was times like these that brought out the doomsayers.
The sun beginning to set in the sky behind the walls and rooftops of Galloway looked almost picturesque, Balian shaded his eyes bringing a flat palm to his brow as he took in the scene. Taking a moment for a deep breath he hurried onwards, approaching the gate he was pulled away by a familiar voice, “Could it be? Has the midlands ranger returned?” The voice came in jest, the sort you would expect to be greeted with when a catch up with an old friend is long overdue. He turned his head to look at a man maybe a head shorter than Balian, a thin smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Balian, it’s been too long.” The man spoke as he approached the ranger, arms outspread. “You remember me don’t you?” He teased.
“How could I forget, Brother.” Balian replied, embracing his friend for a moment. These men were not brothers by blood but a bond stronger. “Leon, it’s good to see you.”
“Aye, that it is.” Leon replied, “Well, what tales have you to share since… Well it must be near two years by now. And where’s the lovely Morrigan you’re so fond of?” Leon noticed a sudden, subtle change in Balian’s eyes and before he could reply noted, “How about an ale? One thing I’ve always enjoyed about Galloway is the ale!” With that the ranger found himself relaying through the towns streets, catching up with his old friend. Despite being sunset, the town was still alive, merchants and vendors filled the market, children played games in the side streets while women carried baskets and guards stood at post, ensuring nothing under their eye goes astray.
It didn’t take the pair long to wind up in front of a dainty tavern. Certainly not the most extravagant tavern in Galloway but in the mind of Leon and Balian, the best. They found themselves sat by a table in a corner by the fire and over two tankards of Galloway Ale chat about anything and everything. Conversation lead on to seemingly unfounded rumors of Beastmen warbands already being this far South. Balian assured Leon that there was no such thing, having come from farther North with no signs of Beast Parties having come past the remains of Lindon yet.
The tavern was quiet enough, a few other patrons sat quiet mostly, drinking their ale, contemplating the day coming to a close. Balian looked around nodding in acknowledgement as he made eye contact with one such patron, an older man who hadn’t aged well and now spent his days in “The Retired Sword” drinking away memories past. The lighting in the tavern mostly came from the open fire, the sparse gas lanterns had been turned down low and most of the candles remained unlit. He took another drink, emptying his tankard and with his free hand wiped his upper lip of the froth on his lip as he put the tankard down. He took a small satchel and through a few silver crowns onto the table, “Next ones on me.”
Balian sat alone at the table he had been sharing with Leon, who had been rushed off by an associate, business was all the ranger managed to get from the conversation. That was like Leon, and it had been good to catch up with his old friend. It had grown darker outside, dusk had fallen over Galloway and Balian now warm and with a taste for the ale began to feel the fatigue of his journey. There was no doubt that he would be staying in the town at least one night, having secured one of the five guest rooms in the tavern. The warmth of the fire kept the whole tavern warm and the bar had begun fill out with more patrons flocking to it. The lighting in the tavern hadn't changed much yet, there was still not much need.
The patrons talked about a lot of things, mostly rumors, Balian discerned from harmlessly eavesdropping into a few of their conversations. Pestilence, Beastmen, Undead. He wondered how much was true, the beastmen of course were not made up but none had made it this far South yet. A pestilence spreading from the east? And the dead rising from their graves? He decided to wave them off as rumors although he knew not to count anything out, and if true, it was times like these that brought out the doomsayers.