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runir[Rowan wonders if he can acclimate to the liveliness of this place. Even as the night grows long, there is always warmth, drink, and music overflowing. People who dance and sing, who sit in groups with their tankards raised with laughter, the drunkest among them spilling more than drinking.
It’s strikingly different than the land he knows, which are fractured and lonesome, scarred by war and torn apart by those who’d hoard their power. As hollow reflection of a more robust past, whereas this place seems to thrive in the present. Perhaps Rowan would appreciate it better were he more outgoing; he’d join in the singing, find a proper drinking partner too while away the time, turn his interest towards the bard—who he’s seen before, even talked to in passing—with full fervor as the man entertains the establishment with songs of fantastical tales.
As it stands, he isn’t. He’s fine to enjoy himself from a distance, having found a table unoccupied by anyone else. He leans back in his chair and watches, his katana-like blade propped against his seat on one side, and a long staff leaning against his table on the other. The latter sparkles in the lantern light of the tavern, its head adorned with a burst of blue crystals.
Though, should the man pass by, not in the middle of a song, he is not so isolated from social interaction to ignore him.]
You made it back to town in one piece, it would appear.
It’s strikingly different than the land he knows, which are fractured and lonesome, scarred by war and torn apart by those who’d hoard their power. As hollow reflection of a more robust past, whereas this place seems to thrive in the present. Perhaps Rowan would appreciate it better were he more outgoing; he’d join in the singing, find a proper drinking partner too while away the time, turn his interest towards the bard—who he’s seen before, even talked to in passing—with full fervor as the man entertains the establishment with songs of fantastical tales.
As it stands, he isn’t. He’s fine to enjoy himself from a distance, having found a table unoccupied by anyone else. He leans back in his chair and watches, his katana-like blade propped against his seat on one side, and a long staff leaning against his table on the other. The latter sparkles in the lantern light of the tavern, its head adorned with a burst of blue crystals.
Though, should the man pass by, not in the middle of a song, he is not so isolated from social interaction to ignore him.]
You made it back to town in one piece, it would appear.
