♜ inn

@avan jogia [this got a full paragraph longer than anticipated! please don't feel the need to match lol]

The tavern was alive like any other night, the scent of hearty roast, bubbling stew, warming ale filling the atmosphere while patrons laughed, made merry, and drank themselves into their nightly comas. A troubadour flitted about the stage on the far wall, accompanied by a ragtag band in telling some adventurer's tale with a jaunty tune that had some men and women on their feet. Kylie's laughter joined in the din as she was briefly pulled into a dance, guided in a circle, while minding the tray stacked with dishes balanced in her free hand. After one turn, she was released just in time to catch the hand lifted at the bar and she excused herself to resume her duties.

The innkeeper observed the man as she worked behind the bar, setting aside the dishes in favor of filling a pint to the brim with fresh ale. The first thing she noted was that looked ill. While a sneaking suspicion told her it wasn't in the traditional sense, her natural curiosity had her itching to know more about the regular she'd rarely spoken to. Kylie was sociable, and she typically made conversation with everyone. Though, for obvious reasons, this patron in particular wasn't an easy one to nail down so she'd never quite had the chance until now. Pint in hand, along with a complimentary dish of cheese and seasonal fruits, she made her way to his solitary end of the bar.

"You're alone today," she observed, the solid thunk of the pint nearly drowning out a word. She offered a smile, setting the food in front of him too and leaned against the bar on her elbow. "And you look like you could use a friend."

@kylie bunbury The pub attached to the inn was Avan's favorite pub, of course, for reasons that anyone could guess. It was easier to get a room with a one night stand than it was at any of the other pubs in town. Typically that would be the reason of the male's being there, but tonight was different.

Avan had been in an arranged marriage for the past year, and finally the day of the wedding was coming up in two weeks, and Avan was trying to find any way to get out of it. The male had been married before and honestly, he considered himself lucky. The male was able to find someone that he actually loved, so upon his ex wifes death he told himself he didn't want to get married again.

Sitting at the bar of the pub, the males face was a bit paler than usual, his worries making him sick, he held his hand up to indicate that he would take an ale to start off his night.

"Innkeeper!" a familiar voice rang out over the relaxed hum of the midday tavern, prompting Kylie away from the easy chat she was enjoying with a few patrons. He was grinning, making his way steadily from the entrance toward her with a letter in hand.

"Another from your pirate friend," he informed, nestling the folded paper into her waiting hand as they met halfway.

"For the hundredth time, he's not a pirate. He's a...he's a nomad of the sea." With an airy chuckle and an amused shake of her head, she turned the letter delicately in her hands, breaking the wax seal with a flick of her thumb.

"My dearest Ky," it began, the messy writing tinier than usual to accommodate all the things said. "I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I hear word of a plague crossing the lands. It has been many weeks since I last wrote and, for that, I apologize. But it was not for naught! I have much to share..."

The woman smiled, refolding and tucking the letter among her garments to give due attention later, and addressed the messenger once more. "Thank you, Tomas," she smiles before putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You look haggard, you should take a few minutes rest before heading back out."

As the tempestuous winds howled and the rain lashed against the inn's rickety windows, Kylie bustled about her establishment with a grace that belied the chaos of the evening. Her shawl fluttered behind her as she moved from room to room, ensuring that each overnight guest was settled in and comfortable.

The quarters upstairs were at capacity, while the tavern below was much of the same—alive and buzzing with the sounds of merriment and conviviality. Instruments trilled, voices sang, cups clanged, and the fireplace roared, casting a warm and inviting glow upon the faces of all who sought refuge within the inn's walls. The aroma of savory dishes, mead, and fine wines filled the air.

With a tired sigh, Kylie descended the stairs to begin tending to the guests whose lively spirits contrasted with the violent storm outside. As soon as she stepped into the tavern from the hall, a chorus of voices greeted her. And, with a renewed energy, she grabbed a pitcher from behind the bar, earning a cacophony of cheers as she called out, "Who needs a refill?"