The Phoenix's Tears Inn (Kaelyn and Lady J)

The autumn sun was setting, the air around the Phoenix's Tear Inn was turning crisp, with leaves of scarlet and gold scattering about with a playful breeze. The Inn's cheery fire gleamed from the windows, tavern goers filing in slowly. Local farmers, and merchants coming in from their day's work, ready for a good meal and a better drink.

Other then the laughter escaping the Inn, there was no sound, save for a distant clip-clopping of hooves. As the rhythmic clip-clop drew closer, the sound of a lute soon came with it, the cheerful notes seeming to move with the sound of the horse's hoof-beats. Soon, a large, glowing paint came into view, strange runes dancing along the bridge of its broad nose, and seeming to dance in its long mane. The large horse, almost looking like a warhorse, clearly big enough for it, moved at a slow walk, so not to disturb the woman sitting tailor-style on his saddle.

The young woman, only looking in her early twenties, was cradling a yellow cedar and mahogany lute, her slender fingers flowing along the strings. A happy smile was on her lips, as she continued her playful song, until her horse stopped in front of the Inn, and snorted at her. Blue-green eyes glanced up, and she grinned,

“Oh! I like the name. Looks like a good place, Jackal, doesn't sound like they have a resident bard either.” The horse nodded his great head, his tack jangling. The woman slung her lute behind her back, and hopped off the large paint, more of the strange runes showing along his croup and tail, before she grabbed one of his reins, rather loosely. Jackal, as she called him, followed her, hardly needing her hand on the rein to take the stallion to the stables. She paid the stable-hand a few coppers for the stall and care, before taking off her saddle bags, and pack, slinging them over her shoulders,

“Be good, and enjoy the pampering, Jackal,” She told her stallion, as she situated her things, before grinning up at the strange horse,

“Who knows, maybe we can stay for a bit. That'd be nice after a month on the road, huh?” Jackal nodded his large head, before nudging her gently, making her laugh,

“Okay, okay, I'm going. Cramping your style around all these mares, huh?” She grinned, before kissing his nose, making him wicker, before she grinned and moved into the common room of the Inn.

The Phoenix's Tear Inn was a large bright red brick and wood building with white details, three stories, not including the cellar. The innkeeper clearly earned a good bit, the paint on the building was clearly new. The inside was just as nice, the common room having a bright oak floor, with a heavy oak counter and tables, the walls painted with a rich burgundy, a large painting of a phoenix hanging above the huge two-way hearth, the room behind it, clearly the kitchen from the scents of roasted meats, and baking bread coming from it.

After weeks on the road, to the bard, it was heaven. She walked to the counter, where a cheerful looking man stood, cleaning mugs. He looked almost half-bear. He had thick arms, with a thick blonde and white beard, his hair neatly combed and tied into a tail. He grinned a friendly smile, his green eyes sparkling with mischief behind his spectacles.

“Welcome to tha Phoenix's Tear, what kin I help ye fer?” He asked, his accent strong, and his voice a rich bass. He reminded her of her papa, and she had to grin brightly,

“Well, I was certainly hoping for a room, for the night, at least. But was also thinking I could help you, actually.” She said cheerfully, putting her things on the floor, except for her lute, of course.

“Oh aye? And what's that, lass?” He asked, curiously, eyeing the lute with interest. The young woman, grinned, and pulled out her journeyman badge, from her shirt's pocket, showing she was a bard of some merit. She just needed to gain experience and songs.

“Was wondering if you might be needing a bard to play, for a couple days or so.” She said. He glanced over the badge before nodding to her lute,

“Play tha chorus o' All For Me Grog.” She grinned, and pulled her lute in front of her, letting her fingers dance across the fingerboard, before singing the rather rowdy song,

“Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
It's all for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander ” The innkeeper had to tap his foot, nodding to the catchy tune, several of the more drunken tavern dwellers starting to sing the rest of the song,

“Good enough, lass. A meal an a bed, fer as long as ye wilt, fer half o' yer take.” The young woman, tilted her head, frowning a bit,

“Meal, bed, and stabling for my horse, and I'll you a fouth of my take.” He had to grin, leaning on his elbow,

“Third and a bath.” The bard laughed at that, and held out her hand,

“Deal.” They shook hands, both grinning, and looking pleased.

“Yer room's on tha second floor, number 5 onna left. Ye kin start tonight, if ye like, after yer bath.” He said, with a grin, handing her a key, she laughed again, and nodded.

“Would appreciate that.” He chuckled, as the young woman took off her floppy hat, shaking her long head of fiery red curls free from under it.

“What's tha name by the way, to put ye in tha registrar.” She grinned at him, blue-green eyes gleaming,

“'Tis Neri, Neri Shepherd, but you can call me Neri the Bard-lass.”

Kora Morinstar was content sitting alone at a table in the Phoenix's Tears Inn. She was what one had called a "long term guest" because she didn't feel like settling down in town even though she ran a business from a small shop down the road. Kora was an expert at finding things. Some called her a tracker, while others just called her observant, Kora prefered the later. She was always observing; it was better than getting into the thick of things. She'd seen too many died because they decided to get involved in 'the thick of things' and Kora valued her life too much to see it wasted as a rotting corpse.

Kora slowly sipped at her ale like she always did and watched the people go in and go out. Her eye caught a young woman carrying a lute. She frowned and sighed. It was a bard. Bard's always made too much noise with their music and their singing. It was so hard to find good places with good taverns attached but if this bard took a liking to this place like so many pests before it, she knew she'd have only one move and that would be to leave.

At once, the bard began to sing and then the entire room was singing along so jauntily, it made her want gag. Soon, the singing died down, but she could tell that the bard was their to stay. Her eyes narrowed as the innkeeper happily shook hands with the bard. Kora leaned back into her chair, it staying stead, not wobbling like so many chairs she'd had the misfortune of sitting in and pondered how she could get the bard to leave. It wouldn't be too hard, it would probably only take a few pranks and Kora was very good at those.

The two disappeared for a moment and Kora began to plan... no, to plot. Yes, she wouldn't leave this time. She liked this place to much; it was so hard to find chair that didn't wobble.