The Bard’s SongRumor had it there was a new bard at Jéànty’s Inn. A half-elf flautist with a flawless reed—Taurin had to see for himself. After maneuvers one night he left the palace grounds and headed for the well-lit inn on the outskirts of town. Sitting down at the bar, he motioned for the bargirl and ordered a tall drink, straight up. “Strongest thing you’ve got,” he said.
“Knights like you usually go for the arla,” she said, wiping a glass out before setting it down in front of him. Pouring a frothy amber liquid from a dark bottle, she appraised him with a knowing eye. “Off duty?”
Taurin nodded. Looking around, he took in the wooden tables, most already full despite the early hour. “Quite a crowd you have.” He sipped from the glass. The brew was heady and strong, just the way he lik
