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The Tavern

Pronunciation Guide:

Aelaia : Uh-lay-ah

Calithilwën : Kal-ith-ill-wain


Part one of the Misadventures in Venya City


Aelaia sat at the bar in her usual spot, nursing her cider to stay out of the rain a little while longer. Days like this were always boring and hard on her. The rain kept most people indoors and had them pulling their jackets closer to keep warm, making it harder to reach in and lift a few coins. She only stole what she needed to live but nowadays the price of living on the street was getting higher and higher. Thankfully while days like this were hard, nights like this were easier. People set to drinking earlier on the rainy days and became looser and more unaware sooner.


A gust of wind from the opening and closing of the door set a few locks of Aelaia’s dark burgundy hair loose. As the newcomers came and sat beside her, she pulled her hood further down her brow. Dressed in a long black coat and floppy hat the visitors were having trouble arranging themselves comfortably on the stool. They asked for two beers and the bartender raised an eyebrow but served them. Slowly the creature leaned over to drink one of the beers trying to hide the second set of hands reaching out from in the coat to retrieve the second.


Aelaia sighed as she recognized the tell-tale roughness of a goblin's green hands. Goblins were renowned for making trouble and inciting violence so it made a weird sort-of sense for these two to try and hide as one person to get out of the rain without being thrown out on their ears.


The beer pulled securely into the coat the top goblin leaned back and introduced himself as Hoblin, an entrepreneur on his way to meet with the King.


Aelaia snorted into her cider at the outlandish idea of a goblin getting to meet with King Devonte.


“What’s so funny? You don’t think a tall man like myself can be an entrepreneur? I sell great knives and trinkets. I dare say what I’ve brought in will be the best this town has ever seen.”


From further down the bar the local blacksmith Zeke stood up and asked mockingly “Is that a challenge sir. Would you care to put your blades to the test?”


The goblins attempted to rise from the stool to return the challenge. “I would good s-- oof” Hoblin cut off as the goblin underneath him stumbles and they tumble to the floor. Swearing and muttering to each other in goblin they untangle themselves from the overcoat.


As they struggle to their feet most of the bar is laughing and Aelaia notices another figure come in through the door drenched in rain. The woman stays near the doorway wringing water out of her braid watching the scuffle with curious eyes. She looks back at the goblins just as they pull knives from their belts and rush towards Zeke. Aelaia grabs Hoblin by the collar of his colorful tunic and in what seems like a rush of wind the woman from the door is holding the other goblin by his right arm. As their feet dangle off the ground the one held by the curious woman gasps and his knife clatters to the ground. They both mutter to each other in goblin then look at Aelaia.


“Mother?” the one being held by the arm asks in the common tounge.


“Uhm what?”


Hoblin asks, “Are you our mother?”


“Excuse you?” Aelaia notices everyone in the bar is staring at her. Her hood had fallen to her shoulders revealing her curled ram like horns and light gray skin. She releases Hoblin’s collar to pull her hood back over her horns.


Zeke looks at Aelaia in bewilderment. “You have goblin children?”


A hot blush rises on her cheeks as she stumbles away from the goblins her tail catching on the stool behind her. “Obviously these are not my children. I’m clearly not green nor so small.”


“But you stopped us from fighting,” Hoblin says.


“Only a mother would stop a fight.” The other says, his eyes bright with the pain from being held by his arm. He turns his head up to the extremely pale woman. “Are you our mother too?”


The woman quickly drops him onto the floor and says in a voice as clear as bell, “Do I look old enough to be a mother?” Her thin fingers tuck a strand of rich black hair behind her slightly pointed ear.


As the goblin opens his mouth she cuts him off with, “Don’t you dare answer that. I don’t even know your name, how could I be your mother?”


“We never knew our mother so we don’t know her name either. My name is Boblin and this is my twin Hoblin.”


“And I’m the owner of this place and I want you all out of my shop. NOW!” The bartender shouted holding the door open and gesturing for us to leave. Sullenly the goblins grab their enormous hat and jacket and the elf follows behind them.


The four of them head back out into the pouring rain and watch as a minotaur storms past being berated with questions by a young farmer.


“Well, mothers, we are on our way to go meet the king if you want to come with us,” Hoblin says as rain splatters on the brim of his hat.


Aelaia growls a low rumble at them as the elven woman says “My name is Calithilwën, I am a monk from the western mountains. You are not my children.”


“Well we are adopting you in honor of you helping us,” Boblin says and they start off in the direction of the upper city.


After a moment's pause Aelaia decides to follow along to see how this ragtag group thinks they will get past the city guards to the king.

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