Evan hopped of the table when his friends weren’t looking, paying attention to the new song that had started up by the group next to them. He took his seat again, plopping down with a sigh.
Some of his friends elected to join in with the new song, raising their mugs and hollering away with the rowdy group of men. A few of them stood up, linking arms or wrapping each other up in half-hugs.
Although Evan stayed on the chair, bringing one foot up onto the wood and resting his free arm on his knee and he just listened.
“Sailor’s clothing!” One of the men called out, clearly to remind the table of the song’s order.
”Sailor's clothing she put on,
And she went on board as a man-o-war!
Her pretty little fingers long and slender.
They were smeared with pitch and tar!”
A few turned to look at the newcomers, but raised their wooden tankards and beckoned them closer to the crew. The song was a cacophony of howling and yowling voices, but they were slowly picking up more people. The shantyman still stood on his chair, heading the table, but two of his companions had just elected to hoist him onto the table (even if he didn’t know).
“Here’s yer fav’rite verse, ya dirty basterds!” The orc yelled out in his gruff voice, launching them into the next part.
”On the ship there was a battle,
She amongst the rest did fight.
The wind blew off her silver buttons,
Breasts were bared all snowy white!”
One of them dragged him out of his seat, his drink spilling over the table as it was discarded. Luckily it was nearly empty so not much spilled as it was dropped onto the table and then rolled onto the floor.
He was wrapped up in the mess, friends and others all joining in the loud ruckus. He sang along, maybe not as loud as he could but he did. He was sober enough to now that the loud noise was giving him a headache, or it was the alcohol. Evan couldn't really tell.
”When the captain did discover
He said Fair maid, what brought you here?”
Sir, I'm seeking William Taylor.
Pressed he was by you last year.”
That particular part was split into two groups- it seemed as if this song was a regular tune for them. The older, gruffer-sounding men sang the parts of the captain, the younger men (and any women in the tavern that happened to join in) singing the parts of the maiden. The exception, of course, was the shantyman, who obviously sang both.
”If you rise up in the morning.
Early at the break of day.
There you'll find young William Taylor
Walking with his lady gay.”
Otto and his companions took swigs of their drinks when they could, usually worming them between verses. At this point, it was already fairly late in the night, meaning men were being picked off one by one by the devil known as sleep. A few were passed out, but most were simply stumbling drunk.
”She rose early in the morning
Early at the break of day
There she spied young William Taylor
Walking with his lady gay”
Otto stood, only humming along to the song now. It was still going strong, but he was one of the men that always brought the ones too drunk to walk back to their inns. At least this time, their inn was only upstairs from the tavern. He took his tankard to the bar, coming back strong for the last verse of the song.
”She procured a pair of pistols
On the ground where she did stand
There she shot bold William Taylor
And the lady at his right hand.”
Evan and his mates clapped, cheering and raising their empty mugs in the air as the song finished. The group turned back to their own table, some grabbing their coats and bags as they got ready to head home for the night.
Luckily a few of them, Evan included, were able to help the others that couldn’t even remember their own names at this point.
Although Evan usually stayed behind at the tavern, helping the bartender clean up once most or all people left. It was a good way to relax after a night of loud noise and alcohol.
Otto’s mates left money for their tabs on the table, stumbling up the stairs. Otto lagged behind, making sure that nobody had left a purse or weapon behind on their seats.
The tavern was beginning to clear out by now, the silvery moon high in the sky. Otto’s gaze flickered around the emptying room, from the flickering hearths to the scarred and stained tables. He took a seat with a grunt, taking his long hair down and tying it back up (neater this time).
Evan grabbed a cloth from behind the bar, slowly making his way round the tables and cleaning up any spilled drinks and other various food substances. He hummed softly to himself, glancing at the man from earlier who had been one of the loudest in the chorus of voices from before.
“I ‘aven’t seen you in here before,” He started, breaking the near silence, “Or maybe I just ‘aven’t been payin’ attention.”
The man’s eyes lingered on a few people who seemed to be passed out from drinking, though they could’ve just fallen asleep. He eyed them with a small bit of judgement, but he had been in the same situation before.
He jumped at Evan’s sudden words, not expecting anyone to talk to him. “Fuck-!” Otto looked towards the thin man when he heard his voice, the one who had been standing on the table just a few minutes ago.
“Nah, you ‘aven’t. Ah’m a sailor, jus’ pulled in ta port todae from Esmein. Long trip, Ah have to say.” Otto laughed, staying seated. Not only was his Esmenian accent thick and rough, but his voice itself seemed to be a little shot from the night’s antics.
Evan smirked a little, nodding along to what Otto was saying. He had to concentrate hard to understand him at first, considering he didn’t have much interaction with people from Esmein.
“Ah, right, makes sense then. I recognise most people that come in here, the regulars. I knew I ‘adn’t seen you here before,” He shrugged, grabbing a few of the tankards that had been dropped on the floor, “I’m Evander, or Evan. It’s a pleasure to meet you..?”
Otto stuck his hand out for a handshake, but quickly pulled it back once he remembered how many things Evander was already holding. “Th’name’s Otto. Good ta meet yeh.” He sniffed, watching a dog strut through the tavern. “Yer the baird here, Ah reckon?”
He tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, leaning back in his chair.
Evan shrugged a shoulder, "Somethin' of the sorts I guess," He walked over to the bar, placing the tankards on the wood for the man behind the counter to take and wash up, "Been here for a while, I'm fairly sure I've earned the title of bard by now."
“Ah.” Otto nodded, standing up from his seat and placing a few coins on the bar as a tip. “See some interestin’ folks, then, Ah assume? Cheap inn like this must get all kinds’a business.” He laughed, knowing fully well the he and his crew definitely weren’t unremarkable patrons by any means- the ragtag band of men looked more than a little odd when they were all together.
Evan chuckled lightly and nodded, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, "Quite a few. It's not all bad, though. You see som' very interestin' people in here but honestly? It's great! The stories and songs you 'ear are wonderful." Yes it was loud and crowded most of the time and the stories got muddled most of the time it was an atmosphere he enjoyed.
Otto nodded with a chuckle. “Ah never said it was bad, Evan. Taverns get tha best stories, best songs. Best people. Half ma crew was nabbed from wee ol’ taverns all over, yeh know.” He added, tilting his head. “If yer ever in need’a some stories, Ah have more than yeh could ever tell in a week.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Evan's lips, "Seriously? Yes! I ah, I mean yes, please," He Ran a hand through his hair, letting you a soft sigh, "So, how long are you an' your crew stayin'? And what brings you round these parts, anyways?"
“Yes, seriously!” Otto grinned, taking a seat at the bar. “Do ya take me for tha typa man who’d pull yer leg?” He listened intently to Evan’s questions, eager to jump on any chance to talk about himself or his travels. “A month o’ two. Tradin’, y’know. Which remin’s me- Ah’m no sayin’ we didnae do our research, but Ah wanna hear it from a local- what’s th’ best market here? For tradin’, I mean?”
"Oh, right," Evan pushing himself onto a bar stool, "There's a market 'bout five minutes horse ride from here. Maybe about ten minute walk? Amazin' place. Has everythin' you could ever think of," He shrugged, thinking for a few more moments, "Yeah, definitely the best place round these parts. And the best one I've ever been to."
“We’ll check it out, then! Boys ‘n I’ll jump at any chance ta get tradin’.” Otto laughed raucously, leaning on his elbows. His eyes travelled around the tavern, taking in the small details he hadn’t noticed earlier: the plethora of stains on the tables (and walls), the scars littering the floor, hell, even the buildup of soot staining the fireplace from years of fires. The tavern felt homey and convivial, even though there were hardly even a dozen patrons inside.
Evan chuckled lightly, running his fingers over the wood of the bar and picking at a few loose splinters of wood, "Just watch out for 'ol Mrs Murrow. She'll swindle you out of everythin' you have if you aren't careful and you'll get nothin' in return. Bastard of a woman I tell you."
Otto’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “Mrs Murrow, eh? Thanks fer tha warnin’. We’re no a group to get regularly swindled by an ol’ bag like tha’, bu’ya never know.” He cracked his knuckles, drumming his fingers on the bar counter.
“Oh trust me, she’s a manipulative one. You won’t even see her comin’ and the poof! Suddenly you’re down all your valuables and left with nothin’ but the clothes on your back,” Evan sighed softly, through he was still smiling the slightest bit, “I’ve seen it ‘appen to too many people who don’t know her.”
“Tha’s quite a character yer describin’. Care ta tell me what th’ hag even loo’s like?” Otto chuckled heartily. He looked outside the tavern’s yellowed windows. Pure darkness. “I’s gettin’ quite late, innit?”
“Short, wears a lot o’ grey and ‘ol clothes. Long hair, brown with spots of white. Wrinkles but still looks fairly young for someone of ‘er age,” Evan shrugged, “Wears a silencer crow necklace, that’s how you’ll know it’s ‘er,” He sighed, following Otto’s gaze, “Yeah, it is quite late.”
Otto nodded. “Ah’ll be havin’ a wee word with me crew about ‘er, then. Seems like a real cocky bitch.” He stretched, taking a final glance at the bartender. “Ah may tuck in fer the night. Gotta get good rest before all tha tradin’.”
Evan nodded, standing from the bar and chucking the cloth skilfully into a near by sink, “Probably a good idea. I live just down the road so if you ‘ave any inquiries about the market before you leave come and see me.”
