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*An elf toting an instument, dressed in black enetrs the Inn*

*Adressing the Innkeeper*

Is there work here for a songsmith?

I may not be the innkeeper, but in my opinion, I don't believe there is. If you can take up a sword, cast spells, brew potions, or aid in research, by all means. But songs will be of little use to us, I'm afraid.

Also, I'll kill you.
mmk byebye

*still ever so drunk, slouched on the floor. In a serious tone says:*

I w-(hiccup) wanna song! SING!

*adresses the Dark Elf*

When last I was aware, these are far more civil times we live in. I do believe speaking of killing someone contingent on whether or not they perform music certainly constitutes a threat. Is there no law in this land?

However, I take no threat from you. After all, I don't expect you to escape your breeding.

*walks away*

Robin entered the in, laughing as she bid the Lord of the Crescent Moon a good evening, a blush from the chill of the evening coloring her cheeks pink. Her smile faded, however, when she noted the tention in the normally warm Inn. Nuk wore a look of pure mayhem on her face, eyes blazing as she regarded an unfamiliar elf with long raven hair. Kaber was drunk as a deckhand in one corner.

"What's all this now," she asked cheerfully, carefully trying to break the tention. "We had laws, mine in fact, but that's old news. I don't know what the town is supporting presently." She laughed, addressing the strange and shadowy elf. "Captain Steel, Mistress of the Gryffin Guild at your service, Master Elf." She bowed elaobrately. "Welcome to Haven."

*Hears the slight commotion and follows Captain Steel into the Inn.*

Pay our ebony-complected comrade little mind Buren, she has been under a great amount of stress lately, as every time she wanders too near the woods, she is attacked mercilessly. There is most definitely a need for a song-smith. Many in Haven have low spirits from our continuous trials, and having someone to bring cheer through song can only be a boon to the town morale. I have commissioned a ballad commemorating an adventure undertaken by ten of our citizens a short time ago, in the hope that remembering our victories as a community will give us strength for whatever comes next. Perhaps you could craft a song to help us never forget our recent battle with a false king. For your source material, I suggest you speak with Ka, Donovan, Grok, and Ug. Welcome to the Haven.

*Walks over and hands Kabre a fresh bottle.

*Eyes get wide as he accepts the bottle from Corbyn*

*In that slow, drunken "yer my best buddy" sort of demenor:*

Corbyn! Thank you for this corbyn... HEY. hey. Im not mad atchu for telling everyone I was lying the other night.. .. you wer chust doing yr job.. just doing your job. thats all. I know. Iknow that. We're still friends. I'm just out of slorts lately because I'm turned into this big unholy thing.. ok? Here. have a drink -- look I just got this new bottle *shows him the bottle Corbyn just gave him and starts pouring him a glass*

*To Buren*

If you wish to play in the Inn you may, there won't be any compensation given from me for it but whatever you make you can keep.

I accept your offer, kind sir.

However, it appears I will be travelling to Frostfell to aid in its defence.

*Accepts a drink from Kabre, and tries hard not to get anything spilled on him*

I am also sorry for the other night Kabre...and I wish there was something I could do to rectify your current situation. Hopefully, we will find a way to assist you through this transition. Your current method might run the town dry at this pace, and with all the sailors we have, that would be very bad.

*Laughing*
Yeah Kabre, that'd be bad. Sober sailors get restless awfully quickly.

*Grins with a mischevious grin*

You think? This is why some of us have hobbies or other things that can distract us quite nicely so we are not drinking all the bloody time.