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An older gentleman, nearing his 40th year, walks down the road, a lute strapped to his back, and a Rapier and Clamshell dagger on his belt. He is headed to the local tavern as he normally might. Pushing open the door, he heads in, and paces over to the table in the corner.

“Hey there, Brynoff.” The bartender calls out to him. Brynoff has dark, graying hair, and a full yet not very long beard. He was known around the town for his skill with a lute. He wears a dark green cloak, black dyed linen leggings, and a pale green wool shirt with a black linen vest over it.

“Hello to you too, Karth” He replies back to the bartender. Karth was a large man, in both height and width, he had brown hair, and could  be mistaken for a bear. The tavern wasn’t very large, unlike its owner. It was more of a drinking well that people went to to drown out their sorrows or have fun. Surprisingly though, hardly anyone was there. Brynoff unstraps his lute, and sets it up against the chair.

“Same as always?”

“Yeah, same as always.” Karth walks back behind the counter, and fills up a tankard with Brynoff’s favorite drink; Cairnfield Mead. The town wasn’t well known for its mead, more known for the massive graveyard nearby. Everything in the town had a name based on death or other such things.

“So, how has it been? You were out of town for a while, I was getting a little worried.”

“I was fine, Karth. Just needed to go and deal with something in the capital.”

“And what would that be? Any time you went on about Drueln it wasn’t very positive.”  Karth crosses his arms after setting down the drink, all the while staring patiently for an explanation.

“True, I do bring up the fact the city is filled with rapist Monsters, but still I would prefer not to get into it. It was just a personal matter.”

“You were gone for a month and a half, and besides, we are close enough where your matters are mine. So why can’t you tell me?”

“Just let it lay, alright? I don’t want to bring it up.” Karth just grumbled and walked off. Brydoff finished his drink, and sat back, waiting for someone to come in.

After three hour, many people had come in, all of them being regulars. And since the first person came in, he had been playing his lute. Unlike most bards, Brynoff didn’t play energetic melodies, but somber ones more akin to a calming tune. But there was one person who was new, one in a black cloak. Not to mention that they were sitting at Brynoff’s table, with her head down and a cup of wine in hand. She silently watched him, it was quite clear from her horns that she was a Satyros. She has pitch black hair and skin white as snow. After Brynoff finished his song, he set the lute down beside him.

“Is there a reason you are staring at me?” He glances over to her.

“You play very well, just had to watch you play to make sure it wasn’t my imagination.”

“Thank you then, but I am not that good. I am just your average bard.”

“I think you sell yourself short.”

"And I think you sell me to highly. By the way, what is your name?"

"Ginerva; nice to meet you. What is your name?"

"Brynoff."

She puts a hand to her chin, then flashes Brynoff a smile. "How about we have a little fun?"

"And what is it you would consider fun?"

"A drinking contest, see who can take more Alcohol."

"A Satyros is challenging me to a drinking competition and expects me to agree?" She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off. "But then again, when a beautiful woman asks something of you, it is only polite to agree." He gives her a grin before calling over Karth. All she does is smile at him, with a hint of lust hidden in it.

"Need something?" Karth glances over to Ginerva, then glances Brynoff, silently asking him if he is okay.

"Yes, my friend, me and the fair lady here would like to have some drink. The strong variant please."

"Alright. How about you two move to the counter then?"

"As you wish." Ginerva said as she stood. Brynoff stood as well and the two walked to the counter. They both took a seat as two tankards of Cairnfield Mead slid infront of them. "You go ahead and have the first drink." She nods to him and he nods right back. He downs the whole tankard.

"You're up." She smiles at him, and downs the whole tankard as well. Then he downs another, and then her, and then him, and it keeps going until they hit twelve each. A crowd had started to form by the third round.

"Are you going to give up yet?"

"I... I never give up." He downs the thirteenth, but he goes down with it. He falls back, stool going with him, and he hits the floor with a thud. Everything goes dark, as he loses the last bits of consciousness.