Page 241 - Musings 2020

Rosaline: Sure, my good lord. Have a seat and enjoy the music while I hurry up and bring
your beloved mead. May I know your good name?

Knight: I am Sir Archibald, given the title of “The Unbent” by our duke.

Rosaline: Your name has surely frequented our humble tavern on various strangers’ lips time
and time again. It’s an honour to have you here. Welcome to the Four Shields Tavern.

Talos: (In a musical tone, from the fireplace beside the bar table) My good sir, you are a
fine-looking gentleman. What can yours truly play for you?

Sir Archibald: My strapping young lad, you sure look too lively for a place overflowing with
bounty hunters, bandits, and marauders. How about you compliment my mead with whatever
those fingers of yours can make by dancing with the lute, savvy?

Talos: And the holy knights never cease to amaze me with their wit. My eyes do take interest
in thee, what would a man of your stature be doing in this poor city of ours?

Sir Archibald: Oh, it’s not much, just an expedition to monitor war threats and be on the
lookout for a few bounty hunters, bandits, and marauders which are suspected to be hiding in
this province. Though I’m sure glad that I’m now on my way back to the royal province, to
report my findings.

(A Stranger enters)

Stranger: What a lovely evening it is, Rosaline, my love. A cup of the usual spirit along with
your company would perfectly complement the lively ambiance here.

Rosaline: You smooth-talking brat, this is the last night you get to stay here without paying
for your cup of spirit and my company.

(Rosaline goes over to make the drink.)

Stranger: Talos! Bless me with some of your art, I have had enough of that old hag’s
nagging. (Glancing over at Sir Archibald) I do see we have a gentleman among us mongrels
today

Sir Archibald: Mongrels? Well not sure about that but I sure enjoy the company of a great
musician and a poorly dressed drunkard.

Talos: There, there, let me warm this cold evening up with one of my favourite tunes

(Starts playing his lute)

Talos: “In the hills, they sing
Of the Dragon’s wing
Soaring in the clouds,
Of his wings, he was proud.
He took the hunter by his head
Boasting, blind in his pride,
The hunter slashed his sword
And the haughty dragon died”

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