Fantasy Star-Crossed Revolution

[GojiBean]

Location: Runedal, Veilbrand

You know?

I like it here, which honestly isn't saying much.

I've liked most places I've visited in this count-... Is it still a country? I don't know. The jury's out on that one. I'll call it a country for simplicity's sake, though. There's enough craziness and confusion going on now as it is.

Anyway, Runedal's probably my favorite place at this point. It's quaint. It's usually fairly quiet. You know, since there's no giant busy markets or any of the usual hustle and bustle you'd see from a town of 800 people. Kinda hard to have a busy marketplace when there's no goods coming in from trade caravans, and no variety of goods being produced locally outside of the same few things over and over, like alcohol and clothes, because everything else relies on money and trade. Ya know?

There's a few vendors who've managed to still make and distribute goods here and there. Key word, "distribute." Nobody's selling anything anymore cause almost nobody actually has money. If they do, they're not letting anyone know about it. Money does bad things to people nowadays. Not that it didn't before. But you get what I mean, right? I guess it makes more sense to say that money now does worse things than it used to.

Anyway. Folks of Runedal recently... Like, within the last year or so, I think? It was just before I got here, but they adopted a system where as long as you show up and are polite about asking for something you'll usually get it. Since there's no economy the vendors don't have to worry about taxes or paying rent on their establishment. Eagon's already taken basically all the money from everyone at this point and hoarded it in Valoc and the closest towns to it which are bending over to receive his favor.

Nobody works for pay anymore, either. They work together because they want to. Like the husband and wife who run this little tavern called The Tripping Cat which is, as far as I'm concerned, the best part of this town. Granted, they built it six years ago when there was still some money flowing through the economy in this area. So, it's a bit unfair to compare it to the rest of the town at this point. I think it was one of, if not the last thing built here which actually was built with money before the complete collapse of the economy shortly afterwards. Since they had money to build it, it's a bit nicer than most other buildings and businesses you'll find. Even the church at the center of town isn't as well kept as this place. I'd wager around half the town is in complete disrepair, and maybe 1/3 of those are fully abandoned and empty save for the rats and roaches which infest the place.

And no... I'm not showing you how big they both are. Even if you had money you couldn't pay me enough to get near enough to show you.

No. Fucking. Thank you.

Anyway, I like Helka from The Tripping Cat. She's the server there, and she's always chipper and welcoming to everyone. Even to drunks like me. Not that I'm always drunk, mind you. But I'm pretty sure anyone else would've already gotten sick of how frequently I go there to get a buzz or drink away the day. What's her husband's name, again? Thalmor? Tailver? Something like that. I haven't talked with him much, so I can't remember his name quite as easily as Helka's. But I do know he's nice. No question about that. And that's rare these days. For a man to run a business, whether money's flowing or not, and still manage to be kind?

Rare.

If there's one thing about Runedal I don't like... it's that there isn't a single person living here who hasn't breathed in the dust particles of the now long weathered and windswept ruins of Ortusk. Sadly, it's just close enough for that to happen. Every now and then on the more windy days we get small dust trails blowing through from that direction. Guaranteed everyone living here has the dust of at least one person's corpse nestled in the folds of their lungs because of it. Me included. And we don't even know their names.

I've been in this town about a year now. So, no doubt I've got someone's particples inside me as well. I don't mind, really. It's not like it actually causes harm. It's just dust. And our bodies have ways of dealing with crap that gets inside. But still, it sends a shiver down my spine to think about it for more than a few moments.

Sigh...

I need a drink.


The door of The Tripping Cat opened, and Leanne gave a nod to a few patrons as she walked by them to take a seat at her favorite table.

"Helka!" She called. "Some mead, please!"

... It was barely midday.


Ashy_OCdesigns Rasmataz Caffeinated Joy Starwalker123 Seraphine

 

[Ashy_OCdesigns]

This is a mental journal, I guess. One that might record both my thoughts and what goes down here. Not gonna lie, society has gone to shit ever since 10 years ago, but it's gonna get better in some way, shape or form. Has it really been 10 years? A little less than that ever since one of my brothers, the only one I have, has gone missing. He might be dead, might not be, but I still haven't given up. I quit my job for various reasons, my brother being one of them. I've been chasing down leads, and no, I don't care that it might be hopeless. It was my goal years ago, so unless he's dead, it won't change, simple as that. While I'm in a new place, I may as well ask about Runa 's inhabitants. Other people may tell me I'm being foolish, but I hate leaving tasks unfinished.

I squint up at the sign, and the words "The Tripping Cat" are there. Not only is a tavern good for a pit stop, but rumors fly around and information is ripe, even if it might be inaccurate. I saunter in, and while some people turn to look at me, most are engrossed in their conversations. I came here once before, but not many people remember me. Not a surprise, when I drank more than I talked, and it was brief stay. Well, here I am again. I sit down at a random table, and I listen for any mentions of Runa. I really, really try to strain my ears, but it's for naught. I try to stand, but my legs are sore, so I lower myself again. Instead, I raise my hand, intending to order, but still patient.

I know I'm not going to be a priority, as I hear, "Helka, some mead please!" loud and clear. This woman is quite close to my table, maybe 2 away, but she yelled before I sat down. She must be a normal sight around here, as most people use 'Bartender' or 'Server'. Not that I can complain, as I don't even use titles, even if I'm polite. I'm not a regular at any tavern, and I'm usually a stranger, so I can't form a connection with the tavern owners. This is going through my head as my raised hand is near my shoulder. I must say, in spite of the loud noises, the tavern is kind of calming, although I can't explain why.

My eyes keep on glancing to the door every time it opens, wondering who will enter. Some people look around in wonderment, being newcomers and all. Other people have obviously been here, looking at the Tripping Cat with a sense of nostalgia. With other people still, it's hard to tell. Alas, by this point, my arm is tired, so I lower it. I'll get my drink eventually, so what is the rush?

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Helka Skau


Helka hummed softly under her breath as she placed a fresh batch of bread made with barley flour, oats and a touch of honey, taken from their hives behind the tavern, on the counter. It was a point of pride for her to know The Tripping Cat was one of the few places in Runegar to still be in reasonably good condition. Of course, neither she nor Thalvir enjoyed idle hands much; it was easy enough for them to stay busy running the tavern and keeping it looking nice, in a slightly run down way. Life was hard for everyone. Loss and tragedy were, sadly, common themes over the past decade. She took it almost as a personal challenge to give people a place where they could have, possibly, a small bit of balm for their souls.

She gave the soup simmering over the fire a stir, smiling at the chunks of rabbit floating on the surface. Eagon had robbed them of much, but if there was one thing he couldn’t take from them, it was their spirit and willingness to provide for one another. It was a relatively simple matter for them to give a bottle or two of good ale in exchange for a hunter bringing them game once in a while. They had little money these days, not that it would do them any good. People worked solely in trade now. She couldn’t lie. In a way, this was better. You gave what you could to those who needed it, and they gave back in kind, though work or provisions. Times were lean, but no one was in danger of starving with everyone taking care of each other.

Smiling, she left the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron as Leanne walked in a sat down. Helka smiled warmly when the young woman called for mead, glancing toward the dark-skinned man who walked in and sat down, two tables away. A few of her customers lifted their heads to look at him as he came in, but, predictably, most of them were too absorbed in their own low conversations, or their own cups, to take notice. She nodded to let him know she saw him, and turned her attention back to Leanne, “It’s always good to see you, Leanne. Thalvir’s in the back getting us more mead, so it will only be a moment. I’ve got some bread and soup, if you’d like. It’s not fancy, but it’s good.”

Thick Lined Divider
Thalvir Skau


The smell of fermenting yeast and honey filled the air of the dark room with its heady aroma, bringing with it memories of nights gathered around a fire, sharing stories, music and food. The Skau lodge, by necessity, had been one of the largest in Ortusk. Not for the first time, Thalvir wondered what he would be doing today if his home was still standing. Would Svala have a brother? Or a sister?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, firmly telling himself to stay anchored in the present and his task at hand. He brewed ale, beer, and had even dabbled in wine, but the one thing people drank them dry on without fail was mead. It didn’t matter what he flavoured it with – juniper, crab apple, wild raspberry, flowers – they drank it. He wasn’t going to argue with it. He rather liked his mead himself. A row of tall, ceramic pots securely covered with cheesecloth was before him, above which was a rack filled with bottles of maturing mead. The top shelf was the newest, not ready to drink batch, while the bottom was the oldest, ranging from 6 months to a year. He grabbed a bottle from his six-month batch and poured a small amount in a nearby cup to taste. It was a nice mix of acerbic crab apple and honey, mildly sweet and pleasant. It would do. He grabbed two bottles then bent to place them carefully into a small wood crate at his feet. A pouch he wore on a cord around his neck worked free of his tunic and dangled down. Taking a small breath, he grabbed it and carefully tucked it away, feeling the contours of the doll within.

Grief punched through his chest like a stone, leaving him momentarily breathless. It amazed him how, ten years later, it could still feel, at times, as if it was only yesterday when he returned to Ortusk to find it gone. He took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, filling the crate and taking it out front.

“Mead’s up!” he called out. “This one’s crab apple and quite nice, if I may say so myself.”

He saw Helka busy with Leanne, and another man waiting at a table nearby. He smiled at him. “What can I get you, my friend? Mead, ale or beer? If you’re hungry, we have bread and soup. It’s rabbit.”

 

[Rasmataz]

KONRAD HIULDR
​

Everything was burning. Smoke filled his lungs. The heat burned his flesh. His sister ran past him, and he could do nothing but reach out and scream soundlessly. She didn't stop. She was so brave. That bravery did nothing when the soldier's blade cleaved her small body in twain. He could feel the tears running down his face, the moisture drying up in the heat that engulfed him. As his sister's blood and guts soaked into the earth, the soldier slowly turned towards him. As he turned to run into the woods, he could see the soldier grinning as he sheathed his sword. The woods whipped past his face as he ran harder than he ever had in his life. His lungs gasped for air and his heart felt like it would explode, but still he ran. Ran from the death. Ran from the destruction. Ran from the soldier.The soldier who had killed his sister. The soldier that was right in front of hi-

---

Konrad woke from his nightmare with a start, his forehead slipping off his arms and banging into the tabletop that had been supporting it. Rubbing his forehead as he sat up, he realized he was having the nightmare again.

"Shit," he grumbled under his breath as he wiped away a tear. The nightmare wasn't as common as it had been when Veilbrand first went to hell, but it still managed to worm it's way into his mind and ruin his sleep. Looking around, Konrad realized he had fallen asleep at one of the tables in The Tripping Cat. One of his hands subconsciously reached down to his waist, confirming his sword was still there. Years ago, Konrad had happened on a soldier having his way with some poor peasant woman in the woods. Sneaking up behind him, Konrad had bashed in his skull with a rock and taken the sword, leaving the woman to find her own way to safety. Said sword had now gone those same amount of years with no maintenance and was worn and chipped. Despite this, and despite the fact that Konrad was no trained swordsman, it still made him feel safe. Or as safe as one could feel these days.

Konrad glanced at the empty cup of mead that had caused him to succumb to his exhaustion, before looking up and around The Tripping Cat. It was about as fine an establishment as one could find these days, and definitely the best place he had stopped at in a long while in his wanderings. Those who had not already been here since morning were now slowly streaming in, seeking the comforts of alcohol and warm food, both of which were such rarities these days. The server, he believed her name was Helka, moved amongst the customers, greeting them and taking their orders with a smile on her face. Running a hand down his face, Konrad blinked a few times and took up a fake cheerfulness of his own. It helped distract him from the pain in his heart, and the world could always do with more smiles.

"Another mead here as well, and some bread too!" he called out to Helka with fake cheer, leaning back in his seat, grin on his face.

 

[GummyWorm]

"Eat this, rebel scum!" Whirling a staff -- more of a walking stick, really -- behind her back, a spry young woman with auburn locks advanced with threatening poise. Standing defiantly in her path was a boy maybe half her size, a forked twig gripped firmly in his small hands. The staff spun its way to the front and narrowly missed its first swing, catching tufts of brown hair as the boy ducked below just in time. Backing up with practiced footwork, the weapon swiftly spun in her hands into a spear-like stance and delivered three rapid jabs. However, he was far too quick. None found their mark, and before she could make another move, she felt the boy's wooden blade carve all the way through her abdomen.

"Urgh! You'll... pay for this!" The woman fell to her knees, clutching a fistful of leaves and flinging them upward to simulate a spray of gore. She turned to her side to avoid getting the front of her clothes dirty, and finished collapsing by letting her head loll to the side. "Bleh." The boy triumphantly raised his twig in the air in victory.

"Having fun, Delia?"

The woman -- named Delia -- sucked her loose tongue back into her mouth and refocused her eyes, perking her head up at the source of the mild yet endeared sarcasm. An older man leaned against the door frame of his shop with his arms folded, rapping his knuckles against a crate of cargo he had pushed out onto the porch.

"Fun? This is serious business, Adryn." She rose to her feet, casually brushing the dust from her dress. "The youth need to be in tip-top shape, it's no laughing matter." Without even looking, she turned her palm to receive the boy's low five and high five, in that order.

"Yes, well, you can start by delivering this to Thalvir. No one can last on an empty stomach, let alone fight a war." Delia quickly straightened out and gave her most stone-faced soldier's salute before almost immediately snorting with laughter.

"Yessir, right away sir!" She marched up the steps in animated stride, briskly rubbing her hands together before hoisting the surprisingly light box up into her arms. It must be getting more difficult by the day to procure resources. She chose not to comment. Delia playfully ruffled the boy's hair into a mess as she walked by, ushering him back into his father's store.

Carefully depositing both the cargo and her walking stick into a rickety pull cart, she lifted up the handles and began whistling a tune as she made her way to the Tripping Cat.

***

The sound of knocking on wood joined the mild hum of the tavern as Delia stepped into the doorway, the crate of supplies under one arm and her walking stick held proudly in her other hand. "Looks like it's your lucky day, mister and missus Skau," she declared, theatrically twirling the stick in her hand. "Because I have got--" The staff slipped out of her hand and went flying out of frame. Ever so gently, she knelt down and rested the box onto the floorboards, and then hurried off to go get it.

A few moments passed before she returned with a beaming smile, now slightly out of breath and with bits of foliage stuck to her hair. "Because I have got a special delivery for you!"

 

[GojiBean]

tap...

tap...

tap...

Weird.

No matter what I do or how I try to think about it, waiting for a drink to be ready is somewhat maddening. Is that a sign I've become a true alcoholic? That I'm irritated by a short wait? I don't know. I've seen folks behave much worse than me both here and in other taverns around Veilbrand. Maybe I'm just being too critical of myself, again?

At least this place has Helka.

Same smile. Same chipper voice. Same happy-go-lucky vibe. It makes me smile, even though I can't stop tapping my finger waiting for the call to-

Oh! Finally!


Leanne rose from her seat and went to pick up her mead from Thalvir.


Crab Apple, he says. And "quite nice," if he may say so himself, eh? Well, I've got no reason to doubt him. There's a reason I keep coming back here. And as much as I like Helka and her husband, it's not because of them.

...

Mmmm... It is quite good, which is saying something cause the drinks here are always top notch. Well... At least, compared to everywhere else in Veilbrand. Not that that's saying much on its own since most other taverns out here struggle to find good sources of alcoholic produce for brewing. Half the taverns basically just serve grape juice and try to mix in a few herbal extracts to mimic the taste and qualities of alcohol. But none of it ever really works. It just makes the juice taste weird and it gives me a headache.

But not this stuff.

Bottom's up, Leanne!


No sooner had Leanne picked up and taken a big swig of her drink did the door suddenly fly open with a messenger girl darting in to speak to Helka. Something about a "special delivery?"

Leanne's eyes narrowed. She didn't like surprises or "special" deliveries. Bad experiences and all that. But everyone in Veilbrand knew what that was like to some extent or another.

She watched the messenger girl carefully as she sat down and took another swig of her beverage.

 

[Ashy_OCdesigns]

Alright, here's entry two, or I guess a continuation of the first entry. Nothing too eventful, but I have a choice of ale, beer, or mead, plus stew. I've drank ale the most actually, so naturally the choice comes down to mead vs beer, but I don't like the taste of beer, so I've decided to take a mead. I have heard around the tavern the types of mead there are, and I've never heard of wildflower mead, so decide to give it a shot. "I'll have the rabbit stew, and the wildflower mead, please." I tell him, glancing up at him. The man is rather tall, or maybe I'm short, or both.

As soon as I've placed my orders, and the guy leaves to attend to other patrons, I take a look around me, and a few patrons stand out to me. Aside from the woman near my table, there's this guy with a worn sword or at least the weapon covering is worn, and that's even assuming that it is a sword. It must be a weapon of some sort, and I took notice because it's one of the few weapons present. I can't get a good look at his face, either. I wonder if he's trained with that thing.

I also see a staff skitter across the floor, and my head is cocked at it wondering who it belongs to. I pick it up after I approach it, and I hold it up high in the air, like: hey, does this belong to anyone? Most of the patrons stare at me blankly, so I shrug my shoulders, and I put the staff in a place that's easy to see. I quicky go back to my table, as if my food might be stolen if I don't guard it. I run my hand through my auburn hair while I'm at it, as I have nothing better to do. Most people assume that I dyed it, because my small beard has been darkened, but that's not the case.

I'm determined to make something out of this visit, as this is the closest thing we're going to have to normal. If I'm in the mood, I might talk to some people, but right now, I relax sort of. When I take in the smell of the stew and the alcohol, my mouth waters a bit. I casually wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, and then on my trousers. I've done this since I was a kid, and it's one of the things where I don't care if you're going to judge me for it. People have, of course, no surprise there.

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

Thalvir Skau

Thalvir smiled warmly when Helka approached him and took the ales as he poured them out, relishing in the noise of his now busy tavern. It was good to see a few newer faces in with the regulars who came by everyday. They had a good system. He ran food and alcohol back and forth, while Helka wove through the tables unerringly dropping everyone's orders off with her customary smile. When money first got scarce, it bothered him to not be making anything off of his ventures, but not anymore. If theirs was the only place people could count on to get a hot meal and friendly face, he would give them as much as they needed, even if things weren't up to their normal standard. You couldn't grow up on a farm with 12 brothers and sisters and not know how to make things stretch to feed many, especially in lean years. Things were definitely lean.

He was dropping the wildflower mead and rabbit soup at the Shaharan man's table when the door flung open and Delia bounced in with her usual vibrant energy and - he winced as the staff she tried to whirl in her hands flung away - usual flair. "Careful. You'll put someone's eye out one day." He admonished gently, approaching her and gesturing to the box. He glanced over at Helka and gave her a quick, cheeky wink when he saw her staring at him. "Let me take that from you while you come on in and sit, Delia. Have some soup and bread before you run off." He set the box on the counter and peered inside. Carrots, onions, potatoes. Must be from Adryn. Not a lot, but better than none. "Thank Adryn for me, and thanks for bringing this. I've got a bottle for him you can take back when you've done eating."

Thick Lined Divider
Helka Skau

There was always something wonderful about a full tavern, even if many of them only spoke to order another drink. She always made sure they got some food in them too. Drinking on an empty stomach rarely ever worked well for anyone, including her, who had to clean up their mess when they vomited all over their table. There had been a few times Thalvir had recruited someone to help him get someone too drunk to walk safely home. These days there seemed to be an increasing amount of those times.

She looked over at a young man slumped over his arms. At first she thought he had passed out, and walked closer to him to make sure he was OK. His uneven breathing and the slight twitching of his hands told her enough. He wasn't passed out from alcohol, but rather exhaustion, and suffering from nightmares - an all too commonplace thing these days. She turned away to let him sleep when she heard him wake and curse in a low voice under his breath. She looked his way as he called out for mead and bread, echoing his smile with one of her own. "Right away, sir." She went to the counter and put some bread and mead Thalvir had left there for her onto her tray, then, after some thought, grabbed a bowl of soup.

'Here you go." She said warmly, filling his glass with fresh mead. "I brought you some soup too. We don't have any butter or preserves to spare right now, and the bread can end up being a bit dry on its own."

Much to her credit, she hardly flinched at all when the door flung open and Delia burst in, announcing she had a delivery for them. She watched Thalvir approach her, smiling softly when he glanced her way and shot her a wink. The thick bulk of muscle he'd had ten years ago had been whittled down to something leaner, though no less strong. Worry and grief had etched their marks on his face, but he was still achingly beautiful to her. Sighing softly, she blinked and turned her attention back to her customer. "Enjoy. Let me know if we can get you anything else."

 

[Starwalker123]

Sage had had one of those weeks, like if things could go sideways they had, they were muddy cold and exhuasted but alive and at the end of the day that was enough. They had crossed the countryside out of the city and had ended smack in the mild of some kind of invasion by the soldiers, when they had finally gotten away. They had taken the long way around doubling back and such, to avoid being seen. They were done maybe after a warm meal they would feel better about life. But this had been a reminder of why life was how it was. Sage didn't reminder much before this war they hadn't been old enough to.

Sage slide into the semi crowded tripping cat, and found a place to seat pondering what they were going to have for them to eat. They weren't going to say much if no one spoke to them. They were far beyond too tried to and lost in their own mind, slightly more than they had been in months if not years. somewhere in their mind that scared little kid wandering the woods at 8 years old was in there. The demons of being an orphan flooding through like a river.

"I'll take whatever food you have. I can pay."" They pipped up. they could pay people paid for info and that was their trade at this point, and they would take whatever they would give, be it money or food or more info to trade on for anything else. He was the keeper of so much knowledge and at 18 that was power, he looked like a kid, but he had grown up fast with the gifts of that knowledge. His face showed the weight he was carrying in these times.