You walk into the dimly-lit tavern; the smell of booze and adventurer-stink assaults your nostrils as you cross the threshold.
The tables are filled with the standard fare: adventuring parties resting for the night, local guardsmen coming off a duty shift to relax, and the town drunkards barely able to keep their heads up. The innkeeper behind the bar looks up and nods at you as he fiddles with the spout of a fresh barrel of ale he's replacing.
A stocky bard near the fire is playing a poor rendition of "The Fall of Ghorzag" to nobody in particular. A young dwarf sitting next to a much-older dwarf invites you to sit at their table; there are also empty seats available at the bar.
- Sit at the bar
- Approach the dwarves
- Sit next to the bard
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You approach the bard and take a seat. Subtly he turns your way, as if directing his performance to you specifically. The other patrons take no notice, too drunk to care. All the regulars have heard the bard's repertoire so much it fades into the background for them. Despite how clumsy his mandolin playing, you pay rapt attention. He shows signs of discomfort at your gaze, but he is a true professional and finishes his piece without faltering.
"Pardon, stranger, but have we met?" says the bard.
"I think not," you reply.
The bard's eyes twinkle. "It's only that this moment feels familiar, no? Like Devrish and Malmond passing in the night, the two lost souls of lovers long-deceased. Perhaps we are reviving our meeting from a past life, dimly aware of our mission from centuries gone. Only now my name is Terenor, and my title reduced to Lord of Pheasants. Let us sing together, so that the spark of memory may ignite and we may learn why we are here!"
- "Let's do a rousing drinking song, T!"
- "I'm in the mood for a song of lost love"
- "How about a break from the music. I have questions, and I'm buying."
[What will you say?]