Welcome to the Tavern

I never said she took my money.

I never said she took my money.

I never said she took my money.

I never said she took my money.

I never said she took my money.

I never said she took my money.

“My poor, sweet, golden flower, how have you lived?”, she asks in almost genuine concern.

She softly but forceably removes the drink from him and places it aside. “This wine is not good enough. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier!”

The womer fiddles through the pockets of her skirt to find the keys to the basement. “Imagine a bitter kick at first… Grimy, uncalled for, feels like you’re licking the bars off the cell you’ve been wrongfully imprisoned for. You’re sitting there thinking, ‘By the divines.. what has this mad woman tricked me into, drinking this damned spider posion–’ Then all of a sudden, a burst of sweet bliss!” She becomes animated with every detail.

“You’re suddenly taken back to when you were five and your mother hasn’t regretted having you yet so she made your favorite fruit pastry for your birthday”, she gets lost in thought but pulls herself back when she feels her keys against her waist pocket.

She swings them in front of him toyingly. “I think I have a spare in the cellar.” The grin couldn’t be erased from her face if she tried.

“Care to try it, love?”

Olaavn smiled at her vivid description, as colorful as her personality. It sounded like an incredible experience.

“Oh yes, it sounds delightful! You certainly know how to sell it,”

He then eyed the tavern, looking from side to side. 

"Though heck of a job I've been doing keeping it quiet now", she laughs to herself, scanning the hall. "Follow me, sweetness."

The womer falls ahead with a lit candle toward the end of the tavern. Unopened barrels and crates decorated the space on the floor near the entrance of the cellar, making it almost invisible to the eye at first glance. She holds the light close up to her face creating an ominous glow about her.

"Watch your step as we enter into Oblivion. They say 'he who enters here, let's the evil of this realm enter them'", she jests with a grin. "-'Course, It helps when the evil wants nothing to do with you..." She glades her way down the steps, being far too familiar with the staircase to need to look down at her feet.

Quiet, dark, and damp. The place almost resembled a crypt with the poor lighting it kept and looked untouched since Elezah's last inventory.

“You’re too kind, sweetness”, she smiled back at him jokingly, fluttering her eyelashes.

Eris did genuinely enjoy his company. On top of his strangely polite and friendly demeanor, he knew how to throw back her humor like most men and mer couldn’t.

“Aye, Falkreath, beautiful land. Couldn’t pick a more perfect place besides here. I’m sure the Isles are nice, too… but it’s no Riften.”

She observed him as he spoke and drank the wine, secretly praying the wine was up to his standards.

“I was born here, actually” she says slapping the counter a couple times. “My Da built this place during the ‘Great War’ to house soldiers… it’s all my sis and I have ever known as home.”

She raps her fingers in rhythm against the wood in thought, ultimately deciding he’s harmless enough to divulge a little of her history.

“It’s strange to believe, but we’re Nords, the whole lot of us. Even my little one, though she’s a stranger mix than me… Our funny accents aren’t just for show as outsiders like to think”, she laughs.

“But if it’s any consolation, I spent a grand part of my time in Cyrodiil. Their Crowning Jewel, Imperial City, to be more specific… lots of interesting people which made for lots of interesting drinks.”

She leans in closer to Olaavn. “Have you ever heard of the bottle, Kissing the Void?”

Olaavn wouldn’t have guessed that Eris had Nordic blood. It must have been from her father’s side. He smirked at her comment about the Isles. There were plenty of times where he wished he could have stayed home. Taking another sip of wine, he paused a moment to savor its taste before swallowing. He let out a contented ‘hmm’.  “Ah, Cyrodiil. Quite a lovely place. Still no Riften,” he added with a chuckle.

She softly but forceably removes the drink from him and places it aside. "This wine is not good enough. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier!"

The womer fiddles through the pockets of her skirt to find the keys to the basement. "Imagine a bitter kick at first... Grimy, uncalled for, feels like you're licking the bars off the cell you've been wrongfully imprisoned for. You're sitting there thinking, 'By the divines.. what has this mad woman tricked me into, drinking this damned spider posion--' Then all of a sudden, a burst of sweet bliss!" She becomes animated with every detail.

"You're suddenly taken back to when you were five and your mother hasn't regretted having you yet so she made your favorite fruit pastry for your birthday", she gets lost in thought but pulls herself back when she feels her keys against her waist pocket.

She swings them in front of him toyingly. "I think I have a spare in the cellar." The grin couldn't be erased from her face if she tried.

She waved her hand at his small apology, feeling no one but herself to blame for being startled. Truth be told, she was glad his first reaction wasn’t to laugh, embarrassingly enough.

“Too bored, too quiet”, she nodded in agreement, shoving her book into a tiny nook in a shelf behind her.

“It’s as though El told everyone she’s doubled the prices, that or she let a rat bathe in a barrel of mead. Luckily, neither are true.. ”

She starts to clean one of the more intricately designed tankards for her friend. “Though if it happens, I’ll make sure to warn right before your first sip”, she jests, placing the cup down in front of him.

“I can imagine your travels been long, sweet thing. What’ll I get you started on? And yes, unfortunately, rat beer is off the menu”, the womer adds with a wink.

“No rat beer?” Olaavn asked, feigning disappointment. 

He enjoyed these visits with Eris, he hadn’t met anyone else with such a sense of humor.

“I suppose I’ll have to go with wine, if you have it.”

It was a rare instance that Olaavn ever felt apprehension, and a small sliver of it crawled up his spine, creeping like a spider. There wasn’t much that he could offer to the conversation, as his days passed in a blur, they were so similar. He didn’t want her to get bored of him. “The travel is long, but I certainly need it. These lungs need the fresh air.”

Perhaps the focus could be on her. Yes, that could keep things going. 

"Such a shame", she replied, pouring the mer a drink.

"You came right when all the huss' and buss' has come and gone! Nearest holiday is months away..." Eris sighed in remembrance, but smiled at Olaavn.

"I should feel grateful, you know. My sis' took my kidling for a trip into town. N' now I have all this peace and quiet to myself.. Says it will do me some good", she shrugs her shoulders and leans against the bar counter.

"But if you ask me, peace is for the dead." She winks again, and stretches her arms out, shaking any tiredness off her body in a way.

"I'm glad your lungs needed air!", Eris exclaimed. "Most guests won't converse with me unless it's to grunt for more Mead. Amongst, well, other things... But /you/", she points at him inquisitively.

It was a slower night than usual at the tavern. No festival or holiday to celebrate kept the place especially quiet, almost reverent in a sense. Eris hated it. More down time meant more work. She could only sweep the same spot on the floor before wanting to stab herself with the cracked end of her broom. Another thing she has to fix, she thought.

She instead wasted her time in her novels. The more painfully cliche to read, the better. The womer was so swept up on it’s most current cliff hanger, she barely realized someone had walked in. The voice startled her at first, making her a bit upset at herself for scaring so easily. It washed away however after looking up to see the familiar face.

“Oblivion’s reign, is that always how you make your entrance?”, she half laughed.

Olaavn was always delighted to frighten people. However, he did feel a pang of remorse for startling Eris. She was more important to him than one of those travelers. He smiled at her.

“My apologies, Eris. I have quiet feet, I’m afraid.” 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here—actually, he did know; it was to relieve his loneliness and boredom. What he and Eris were going to do about it, he wasn’t sure of. Olaavn took a quick glance around the room, noting how empty it was. He preferred that. 

"Too bored, too quiet", she nodded in agreement, shoving her book into a tiny nook in a shelf behind her.

"It's as though El told everyone she's doubled the prices, that or she let a rat bathe in a barrel of mead. Luckily, neither are true.. "

She starts to clean one of the more intricately designed tankards for her friend. "Though if it happens, I'll make sure to warn right before your first sip", she jests, placing the cup down in front of him.