Bardic Inspiration


Howling wind whipped at Rhadd’s back, tossing his scarf forwards and threatening to push him over. He pressed on, turning down a side street to avoid the worst of the wind. Wooden window shutters loudly rattled all around him, breaking through the sound of the gales. The sun had begun to set, the day coming to an end. Others struggled through the weather, making their way home or finding reprieve in a pub or restaurant.

     Rhadd had been invited to The Lion and Eagle, a dingy pub on the east of Sword Isle, near the financial district. Despite its low ceilings, small interior, and complete lack of choice in drink, it had become a well visited hangout for the working person. Smartly dressed financiers and oil covered mechanics could be found shoulder-to-shoulder, drinking the pub’s only beverage – Griffon Stout, and getting merry to the standing entertainment, Rhadd’s close friend, Myfanwy.

     Finally arriving at the pub’s beaten and worn front door, Rhadd turned its stiff and barely functioning handle and stepped inside.

     “Quickly, in, in, in. And make sure to close the door behind you.” The barmaid gave the instructions as the winds threatened to turn out the fireplace.

     Rhadd complied, wrenching the door shut against the force of the wind and wrestling with the handle to get it to lock back into place. The wind quieted down immediately, and the hum of conversation and laughter roared back into authority.

     Noticing his friend wave him over, Rhadd approached the small table rammed into the corner of the establishment, taking off his scarf and jacket.

     “You ok, Rhadd? Find it alright?” asked his older, ginger friend.

     “Yeah, yeah. Not too hard, your instructions sufficed,” replied Rhadd.

     Rhadd took his seat on the bench against the pub’s back wall, shimmying close to his friends to get access to the table.

     The door beside the bar slammed open, drawing eyes from across the pub. Conversations hushed, and with the assistance of some parlour trick level magic, a spotlight fell on the doorway.

     “Hello, boys!” A grandiose voice announced itself, as a leg adorned in fishnet emerged from the opening.

     Whistling and claps erupted from around the pub, with Rhadd and company joining in, arguably the loudest.

     The owner of the tights came into full view, her hair tied into a pineapple, covered in sparkling twigs and flowers. Her tight corseted chest threatened to cause her breasts to burst out, and her rear was barely covered.

     The lights dimmed, and Myfanwy began her performance.

Today's prompt: hello boys

This week's worldbuilding prompt: spring

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