Thread: The Mouse and the Bard

The enchanting bard whiled away the hours before his audience with tales from his desert home, and tales collected during his extensive travels, for it seemed at least to the villagers that this strange being had visited half the world! The young bard had been speaking and playing his instrument for most of the night. Besides his meal and drinks, he had collected a small but respectable pile of coins. He did, it seemed, have a tongue of silver, and knew well how to use it. But even silver tarnishes, and the tankard of ale quickly began to drain as Flint replenished the moisture in his throat. Oddly, he didn't seem to feel the alcohol, or at least he was a far more graceful drunk than Esmeralda was used to in the tavern. The stories continued unabated, if perhaps a bit more freely over time. Finally, though, shortly after Flint had taken his last swallow of ale, the bard drew a close to the evening's entertainment. Fair ladies and handsome gentlemen, I fear this must be the end of my stories... for a time. However, there will be more to come next eve, and as a great playwright I once met said, if my utterings have offended... the house shall restore amends! Flint gestured to the barkeep, who was already snoozing drunkenly in the corner, and there was a chorus of laughter around the table. Afterward, though, the crowd quietly dispersed, returning to their homes and rooms within the tavern, save for a few night-owls. Gathering his earnings into a small leather purse, Flint was pleasantly surprised by the offer of a room from the barmaid, who it seemed had been hovering abnormally close to his table throughout the evening. He smiled gratefully, following her up the stars to an otherwise uninhabited portion of the tavern's boarding... My Lord? Would you... require a body for the night? Flint paused as he prepared himself for bed, turning around toward the barmaid, who he realized has paused to study him in the doorway. The young male had already shrugged off his vest and shirt, exposing his pleasantly firm torso to the mousette. He listened to the rest of her words, and smiled. The vulpine was not unfamiliar with this scenario in the least throughout his career, since he had left his own tiny village for much the same reasons the mousette had stated, he had been approached by females who at the very least needed a break from the monotony of their situations. Being a healthy, articulate male had been his inadvertent bate, and Flint had sampled the local flavor in nearly every town he had visited. This latest request was a little bit more than he usually got, though Flint was already weighing the possibilities. You wish to travel with a bard... is that right? Flint sat down on the edge of the bed, folding his hands and regarding the mousette with obvious interest. Perhaps it wouldn't be bad at all, he mused a companion to warm the cold nights on the road traveling between towns. If she displeased him, he could simply leave her in one of the cities he stopped in a girl like her wouldn't starve. And try as he might, Flint couldn't think of a reason the little female would displease him. Well, milady... perhaps I should consider your offer. He beckoned to her, his smile turning to a slight smirk. Come here, mouse, let me get a better look at you... He leaned back against the wall across his bed. ...I don't believe we've been introduced, actually. My name is Flint, and you are...?