The tavern at the ground level of the inn was quiet this evening, with only a few of the locals that frequented for Thomar's and his wife's hospitality. Thomar himself sat upon one of the stools propped up behind the bar, an ale glass in one hand, and a quickly dirtying rag in the other as he wiped gingerly at the surface of the glass.
He was a man in his late fifties, and he had the look of one tarried for years, but if anyone were to meet him, they'd learn otherwise. His full beard was tied neatly with a small bow, as was what little whitening blonde hair he had on his round, shining, and bald head. It wasn't hard to tell that he looked extremely pleased this evening, for he wore a large, contented grin upon his face that puffed up his already pudgy cheeks.
Thomar's wife had the same plump and petite look to her. She emerged from the kitchen, drying one of her hands upon her food-messed apron. In the other she bore a full plate with a rack of lamb, plenty of potatoes, and garnishes upon it. She wore a smile identical to her husband's, warm and pleasant as she carried it to a booth on the far left side of the room, offering a smooch to Thomar's cheek along the way.
The three men that sat in the booth straightened, smacking their lips as they watched her bring the plate ever closer and set it down on the table before them. The smaller man who sat on the right by himself immediately dove for one of the ribs and started separating it from the rest. The plump woman chuckled and reached a hand over, mussing it in the man's stringy brown hair.
"My my, Gunther m' boy! Ya eat 'ere nea'ly every night! Ya act as if yar starved!"
"Mum Taura, if I swallow an entire herd a cattle or sheep that ain't your cookin', it still wouldn't fill my belly like these fine vittles!" He replied.
"Oy, ya little suck-up! Yer flattery's as empty as yer stomach, boy, eat up." She lifted a spoon and scooped up some potatoes, shoving them into Gunther's mouth.
"Ah, bloody lies! His wife works off every morsel you fed him, Mum! Forgets there's even food ter eat sometimes!" One of the larger men piped up with a cheek full of mashed potatoes.
"Ya, tha's all well and good McEron, but a' least Gunther 'ere 'as taken a wife. So many maidens in Tanembir an' ya 'aven't even looked yet 'ave ya?" Taura's smile broadened as Thomar approached the table with three steins of Ale.
"Scrawny little waif Gunther's wife be, isn't she? Don' matter how much food there is, the spindly old shrew wouldn't lift a finger to cook it. So brittle she be afraid it'd break right off and turn to dust." Said the third man at the table, between sips of ale. The comment earned a hearty laugh from all the men and Taura as well. Thomar turned and started heading back to the bar, but stopped for a moment when he saw Sorenna coming down the stairs.
"Come to grace us with your songs Ren?" Called Gunther from across the room.
"Eve boys. Gorging as usual? A song'd only put you sleep now." She raised a slender hand and waved quaintly at the men with an amused smile as she walked up to Thomar.
"I don't mean to be a bother Thom, but my roof's sprung a little leak, do you have any extra twine so I could tie the thatch back together?"
"Fer you, Songbird, anythin'." Thomar took her hand and kissed it gently before letting it go and walking back behind the bar and into one of the store rooms. He emerged a second later holding a handful of strong knit twine which he rolled into a ball and handed to the half-elf. She smiled and bowed lightly in thanks.
"You look extraordinarily happy tonight, Thom. What's the occasion?" She stopped by the landing of the stairs to listen for his answer. The husky man chuckled richly and resumed scrubbing the glasses, turning and nodding his head to her with a wink.
"Lord Trekmoore just made quite a generous donation to the inn, Songbird, and startin' morrow I'm beginnin' a few renovations, startin' with the problem of tha' leaky roof o' yars. An' dunna be worryin' about rent this month neither! I know yuh've been frolickin' off with that Fenrik fella. 'Ave yar fun while ya can. Jus' be keepin' yar eye on that Wood-Elf gal, Runeglow her name be, I think..."
"Oh! Vilulae? The druid from the tree city, Kelethin? Thom, she's already sporting with Sarkin and Kudamil! A Rogue and Warrior...and Kudamil is a barbarian! Don't you think she'd have her hands full enough with him? Vil is very beautiful, but Fenrik would faint if she even winked at him!" She paused for a small giggle while she pictured her half elf friend turning an apple red and collapsing.
"He's far too shy. Well, I've got to go fix the leak. Good night everyone!" Sorenna bowed once and headed up the stairs, closing the door behind her when she reached her room.