Vol. II- The Broken Spire
*A new series of unique fiction begins to circulate amongst the Core’s wide array of pubs, inns, and taverns. Part review, part tale, all entertainment, the humble storyteller J’ystn Chance has begun creating these quick tidbits of written prose to both inform and excite*
Greetings again fellow revelers! A quick detour takes us out of Barovia for this installment of Tavern Tales, and into the city of lights itself. Drawn by the advertisement of chess matches, I was promised an evening of good ale, good conversation, and an unrivaled contest of strategy. The wit and guile of chess is a metaphor for many things in life, as we’ll see in our next tale……
I eyed the haughty couple from over the rim of my mug as they entered. He wore a well-tailored suit in current pastel colors that stood out like a beacon amongst the dreary blacks and greys of the other male patron’s clothes. Her, a form fitting gown cut and colored in the most modern of trends, so lavish that her entrance halted all conversation for a beat.
After ordering drinks, they took a seat at a booth and chessboard across from my barstool, view slightly obscured by the damned spire sculpture taking up a good portion of the room.
I couldn’t fully make her out but I could see the gentleman, eyes darting back and forth, his mouth pressed to a thin line of discomfort. What was he so sour about? Spending a night of drinks and games with the most beautiful woman in the room was no reason for frowns.
I thought them out of place. Though the occasional wealthier patron might wander in from time to time, this quarter was usually reserved for the working class, or sailors coming in on shore leave. Whatever spectacle they were after with their entrance was beyond me.
I shrugged lightly, turning back to my drink. In doing so I realized I’d made a mistake. The latest entry to the bar was the second most beautiful woman in the room. For seated at the opposite corner of the tavern was a working-class girl that despite her threadbare dress and unkempt hair, shone brighter than any silken gown the other woman could’ve worn. Tilting my head, I pivoted on the stool to face her, flashing a small, flirtatious grin, and offering a silent cheers with my mug. She didn’t return my advance, rare, so I figured her distracted. Following her gaze, I realized the source of her diversion. Her attention was rapt with the power couple across from her.
Not easily put off, I stood, setting my mug down with a bold clank that announced my determination. Confident to make my way over, the hushed murmurs of a nearby conversation however pricked my elven ears, and I paused a moment to listen.
“You got home late last night, my dear. Those dreadful board meetings are stealing all our time”. I heard the noblewoman lament as she pushed a pawn across the chessboard. He responded with a disappointed sigh “I know dear, I know, I simply can’t find a way out of them, they need me there to make sure the books are in order.” He moved a pawn of his own.
She moved her knight in a sweeping L into the battlefield. “And I can’t believe that clumsy Monsieur L’orue spilt wine on your shirt! The maids may never get it out!” He moved another pawn forward. “It’s fine really, I have plenty of shirts.” I could see him give his best effort at a half-hearted smirk. Of course the broken spire was blocking my view of her so I couldn’t make out her face, but I heard another round of questions come after a long pause.
“What a fool Madame L’orue was, bringing that mangy cat of theirs to the meeting. Who do they think they are? It’s basically feral, no wonder it scratched your neck when you tried to pet it. You’re lucky you didn’t lose an eye!” Her bishop made a direct line in a diagonal march across the board. “I know dear I know, but I’ve loved animals since I was a boy I can’t help myself, the urge to pet is too much” He seemed to relax a bit trying to console her, sipping his drink and moving his own bishop from the rear line.
The banter of question and answer about the Monsieur’s ill-fated meeting quickly bored me. I turned to check on the humble beauty I’d meant to approach, but she was apparently enamored with the chess match, not me…forget it.
Checking back in on the couple, I heard the gentleman excuse himself to the privy. I watched his departure towards the rear of the inn for a long moment, and when I turned back, I could vaguely make out the lady placing something back into her tiny clutch purse.
The gentleman returned shortly after, seating himself at the board who’s pieces had thinned out by now. “Dear, this is fun and all, but why did you pick such a…salt of the earth type of place, surely there were better venues?” He asked with raised inflection, skepticism. “We’re nearly done my love, you never know what trap I may have laid out.” Her tone was playful, but there was a shrewd, mechanical ring to it.
He gave a nervous laugh looking to the board, and took another eager sip of his drink, moving a rook to block his king. “There’s just one thing dear.” I could see her queen move into a dire position. The night you were at the meeting, I was baffled when I saw the L’orue’s returning from the theatre, seems they had tickets and couldn’t attend your…rendezvous.” I quirked a brow and pursed my lips watching the man’s reaction as he let out a flustered stammer. “Wh…what, that’s impossible dear of…of course they were there, my shirt…and the bastard cat…I mean….”
His face suddenly turned very white, and he reached for his throat, sputtering in short, staccato chokes. “How long have you been f….” She composed her anger. “How long have you been seeing her here in this filthy hovel, Luke?” Her words dripped with venom. Luke merely gasped out more wordless wheezes, eventually falling face first with an unceremonious thud as cheek met table. “You should’ve known better than to try and play me dear. And I believe that’s checkmate.” With that she stood and flicked over his king. Opening the purse from before, she dropped an empty vial on the table and strode out in confidence, like a queen. The peasant girl in the corner shrieked in horror.
The Broken Spire Inn- A modest venue located in Port a Lucine’s sometimes rugged docks district. It is cleaner and safer than it’s counterparts in the quarter. The floorspace features a large spire rising to the ceiling inside, hence the name. The main draw is the free to enter chess matches that draws a friendly crowd, and the charming, albeit somewhat mysterious hostess Shrixenna. She goes out of her way to make sure guests feel welcome, and is more than a pleasant conversationalist.
Ambience 4/5: There’s something I like about the idea of meeting new faces over a game that requires you to interact with one and other, while taking place in a bar. Shrixenna takes this place from a run of the mill status quo, to something entirely unique. Decorations inside are basic and limited, however there’s plenty of windows for air and light.
Space 2/5: Straight forward design and seating. The giant spire in the center of the floor is either a huge attraction or a huge obstacle depending on your perspective.
Menu 3/5: Simple food and drink selections, beer, cider, wine. Nothing more, nothing less. Prices for both the rooms and the menu are reasonable.
Writers Tip: Show don’t tell! When describing something it’s all to easy to fall in the trap of telling something. Showing something however helps immerse your reader and help them see what you see. For example, instead of saying “When I told Madame the news, she was upset.” You could say “The corners of madame’s lips sunk like a ship when I told her the news”.
MAY YOUR LIFE’S SONG SING LOUDLY!