Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2023 19:07:06 GMT -5
Cyrus was already tipsy. He hadn't intended it, and groaned internally for a moment before sending the offending - now half-empty - mug a sharp glare. He was seated in one of a number of booths situated on the outer edges of the tavern, along with a handful of his comrades, who were chatting amiably with each other and downing their own beers in quick succession. Cyrus kept himself busy people-watching, his eyes lazily moving this way and that over the various different faces, with a light, care-free smile on his own face. The tavern was warm and lively, making a perfect haven from the chill.
He was caught off guard when some of the other soldiers began to fill the tavern with the sound of music, and he straightened up to listen more intently. They slowly harmonized, building the rhythm, before a voice broke out, signalling the beginning of the shanty. Cyrus laughed at the turn of events and quickly joined in, stomping his boots and singing along with the rest of the chorus. He was momentarily distracted, however, by the entrance of a young woman dressed in the fine clothes of a noble. His brows furrowed in thought; Did he recognize her? He couldn't recall. If he did, she must look much different in military garb. As she passed on her way to the bar, his eyes were instead drawn to a nearby window.
Two young men, soldiers at that, looked like they were seconds away from breaking out the fisticuffs. Or rather, one of them did; the other seemed to have no interest in escalation. Pursing his lips, Cyrus stood up and quickly signaled the bartender for two mugs. Leaving the money on the bar, he took up the drinks and began making his way towards the door. Bumping and elbowing his way through, he didn't remember the tavern being so crowded just a moment ago. Finally reaching the door, he breathed a sigh and walked out (thankfully it was the push rather than pull variety). "Soldiers." he said, looking at the two men standing by the window. "Do you need a drink?"