Tecdavid
Verdentia's Gardener
Hi, everyone. I have another snippet of my work here, and although it too bares a bit of area-discription, it focusses a little more on dialogue and goings-on than the previous two. It's a slightly reworked version of a snippet I posted on my blog, which also contains the first two full chapters and the blurb, if anyone's interested. 
A narrow corridor from the entryway – its walls covered in old paintings of the city – led into a spacious, dimly lit bar with a decor that proved the place was cherished and cared for. Its ambience was easing, and friendly.
A large, ornate fireplace, crowned with many gilded goblets and plates crackled away by the eastern wall, while many vulshieral children chatted quietly beside it. Many old banners, landscapes and bar-befitting knickknacks – such as collective beakers – engulfed the mahogany-brown walls. And yet, welcoming though the atmosphere was, Erril hoped he’d avoid attention.
One thing, however, drew more attention than anything else: The far end of the room held a stage, upon which a few vulshiera were playing away on instruments, the likes of which Erril had never seen before. The musicians must have been merely practicing. There were certainly no signs of effort on their faces. Still, the melody was a pleasant one, simple, calming, with but a little hint of eeriness to it.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ Called the barman. Erril was caught up in the relaxing tune. ‘What can I get you?’
Erril walked over. ‘Yeah, I’m sort of new around here, just arrived in Verdentia yesterday. I was told this would be a good place to learn a few of the city’s . . . y’know, customs and such.’ The barman smiled. For someone working in such a quaint and charming place, he seemed to have more of a lively buzz about him, the kind of person who’d, in fact, consider customs a nuisance at most.
‘Ah, but I should’ve known. I’ve grown accustomed to many a face around here, my friend, and I must admit, yours didn’t ring any bells.’ While talking, he began pouring a large, peculiarly red drink. A sort of cocktail, by the look of it.
‘One custom we do have around here, sir, is that the first drink’s on the house.’ He passed Erril the colourful mix, which he took with a grateful smile.
He thanked him before taking a swig. On a day like today, something strong would go down well. But perhaps not as strong as that . . . by the time he’d hurried it down, Erril was fighting to stop tears swelling in his eyes! B-Bitter! He tried not to show any disgust, but the barman could tell all too easily, going by his hearty laugh.
‘Bit strong, eh?’ He asked. Erril nodded wearily before handing the glass back. The bartender just shrugged happily. ‘I just like experimenting around a bit. ‘Thought that’d be a good way to test whether it was any good or not.’ Erril didn’t quite see the humour. He hadn’t walked in here with the intention of being some unwitting guinea pig!
‘Let’s see, one part Dusk Juniper . . .’ The barman was examining his mixture. Erril scrubbed his tongue, wishing something could empty his stomach. ‘And two parts Gellish Blood.’ That almost did it.
Pull up a seat at the Felvane
A narrow corridor from the entryway – its walls covered in old paintings of the city – led into a spacious, dimly lit bar with a decor that proved the place was cherished and cared for. Its ambience was easing, and friendly.
A large, ornate fireplace, crowned with many gilded goblets and plates crackled away by the eastern wall, while many vulshieral children chatted quietly beside it. Many old banners, landscapes and bar-befitting knickknacks – such as collective beakers – engulfed the mahogany-brown walls. And yet, welcoming though the atmosphere was, Erril hoped he’d avoid attention.
One thing, however, drew more attention than anything else: The far end of the room held a stage, upon which a few vulshiera were playing away on instruments, the likes of which Erril had never seen before. The musicians must have been merely practicing. There were certainly no signs of effort on their faces. Still, the melody was a pleasant one, simple, calming, with but a little hint of eeriness to it.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ Called the barman. Erril was caught up in the relaxing tune. ‘What can I get you?’
Erril walked over. ‘Yeah, I’m sort of new around here, just arrived in Verdentia yesterday. I was told this would be a good place to learn a few of the city’s . . . y’know, customs and such.’ The barman smiled. For someone working in such a quaint and charming place, he seemed to have more of a lively buzz about him, the kind of person who’d, in fact, consider customs a nuisance at most.
‘Ah, but I should’ve known. I’ve grown accustomed to many a face around here, my friend, and I must admit, yours didn’t ring any bells.’ While talking, he began pouring a large, peculiarly red drink. A sort of cocktail, by the look of it.
‘One custom we do have around here, sir, is that the first drink’s on the house.’ He passed Erril the colourful mix, which he took with a grateful smile.
He thanked him before taking a swig. On a day like today, something strong would go down well. But perhaps not as strong as that . . . by the time he’d hurried it down, Erril was fighting to stop tears swelling in his eyes! B-Bitter! He tried not to show any disgust, but the barman could tell all too easily, going by his hearty laugh.
‘Bit strong, eh?’ He asked. Erril nodded wearily before handing the glass back. The bartender just shrugged happily. ‘I just like experimenting around a bit. ‘Thought that’d be a good way to test whether it was any good or not.’ Erril didn’t quite see the humour. He hadn’t walked in here with the intention of being some unwitting guinea pig!
‘Let’s see, one part Dusk Juniper . . .’ The barman was examining his mixture. Erril scrubbed his tongue, wishing something could empty his stomach. ‘And two parts Gellish Blood.’ That almost did it.
