The bar is made of sturdy oak, well worn with use, and behind it an impressive array of bottles and jars stock the shelves. The wood seems to have a faint glow, as if it were imbued with a subtle enchantment. Four taps are lined up in a row, each labeled with a different type of ale, some still dripping with the rich aroma of hops and barley. The elf bard, Korellion, is sitting with his back against the bar, playing discordant notes on his lute as he attempts to adjust the strings.
You walk up to the bard, attempting to start a conversation. He scowls at your approach, rolling his eyes in annoyance but facing you nonetheless.
“Ah, if it isn’t the wizard. Still searching for clues? No magic spell to tell you who did it? Well, if you happen to stumble upon the gold that’s owed to me, let me know. Otherwise, if you don’t mind…”
Korellion waves a hand over the strings of his instrument, and they sparkle with a bit of magic before the bard gives them a strum. You recognize his action as a type of mending spell, and indeed the instrument does sound better now.
“Honestly, the audacity of wizards never ceases to amaze me. Weren’t you supposed to be solving this murder? Instead, you’ve allowed more murders to happen! Are you not the ones at fault? Between that silly half-elf boy in his eyesore of an outfit threatening everyone with that glowing red staff, and you folks stomping around making wild accusations, I really think it’s high time we called it a night, for everyone’s sake.”
♫ (strum) ♫
In the inn she worked, a dwarf so bold, A strange tongue she spoke, or so I’m told, With a dagger sharp, she struck him down, Claimed his wealth and stole his crown.
The patrons all whispered, who is this maid? Where did she come from, with her strange way of trade? But she served them well and with a smile so bright, They never knew her plans that fateful night.
Now she’s the owner, the mistress of the inn, Serving up ale with a wicked grin, But we all know the truth, the story untold, Of the dwarf barmaid with a heart so cold.
Oh, beware the dwarf with a tongue unknown, For she’ll claim your riches and your throne, With a flick of her blade and a devilish grin, She’ll take what’s yours and leave you thin.
