Elle
BLACKJACK!
Beneath the Purple Canopy, an Elias excerpt
They stole away shortly after Devere announced he was retiring early for the evening. From the prince’s grand window, the pair descended, disappearing from the balcony like thieves in the night. It’s hard to see the stars when the city’s lanterns glow so brightly below, but there are other sights worth seeing, even in the dark hours.
Elias provided a cloak that disguised Devere proper; Typically, dull and boring earth tones were not in the prince’s walk-in closet. To hide away his noble features, Devere is wrapped in humbleness and poverty. Hopefully that would be enough to hide his silvery skin and seafoam hair.
Hands gently clasp together as Elias leads the way through a crowded street, and they got lost among the common middle-class. There, surrounded among people who didn’t care who they were, they found trouble and excitement.
The most lively tavern in the bustling district, known as the Blue Siren, was fit to burst with life. People were singing to a tune the bard conjured, simplified chorus so they could stomp their feet and hollar between the breaks in the story. It was easier slipping through rowdy people, no one noticed if you were trying to be slick and discrete when chaos and merriment is being had. So getting to the bar counter unnoticed was easy; Squeezing between people to get an order in was going to be the hard part. Elias was not without determination, however--
His spare hand lifts, he waves, he fights for the eye of the half-orc woman behind the counter. She saw him, but she didn’t really have any urgency. If anything, she generally seemed annoyed and fed-up. Maybe with the rowdy boys and men that were causing such a ruckus, that would be most likely. In an attempt to curry her favor, Elias pulled up the coin pouch from around his neck and shook it. After handing off a refill to an already-pickled patron, she approached with a deadpan stare. It was not welcoming in the slightest.
“A bottle, please!” He raised his voice as best he could, leaning further over the counter.
“Of what.” She had no problem being heard at her normal, natural bravado.
A lengthy delay followed. Oh, he--… Elias didn’t think of what kind of bottle! Just… a bottle! Uh, oh no. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t really want anything alcoholic. He’d be left feeling sleepy and sluggish and anything here would taste awful to someone else with a more sophisticated palette, probably.
Elias released the hand he was previously holding and braced the tavern counter proper, leaning further over in hopes that the half-orc would hear, and the high elf would not. His hand was cupped and the grey amazon-like woman was reluctantly leaning forward. She braces the counter with an elbow.
“Something… not strong. Um, that doesn’t burn…” At first he’s not sure he heard her, and struggles for more words before she leans away, rolling her eyes as she walks down her side of the counter. When she returned, a bottle was put down on the faded wooden counter and she grunted, “Two silver.”
“What is it?”
“Wine for the weak. Two silver.”
With hot, burning ears, he fished out four pieces instead of two and set them on the counter, and then stole away with the entire bottle. Without delay, he recaptures Devere’s hand and guides him gingerly through several active bodies in the tavern. It was too crowded for comfort, after all. There are other places they could be. Better, higher places.
Not too far from where they currently were, in all actuality.
“One of my favorite spots, just around the corner here…” He turned when they exited, suddenly realizing how warm it was inside the tavern now that he could step out into fresh air again.
Another turn, down an alley, dark and noisy from the bard’s performance that carried out quite a ways. The wine bottle was tucked away into his tunic to prevent it from dropping and he groped along the wall of the building next to the tavern. His fingers found purchase on the vine trellis, which was coated in a thick layer of greenery that acted as the glue to keep the trellis stuck to the building.
It was a lengthy climb to the top, and long. Elias had to keep a slow pace for the company trailing behind him. Once they arrived at the top, however, Elias assisted Devere over the ledge to the roof and from there, they could see a decent view of the city. The bard’s voice was clear, if not occasionally accompanied by other voices for his chorus, but not obnoxiously loud from this safe distance. Lo, this vantage point is not as high as Devere’s balcony, but it gives the prince a new perspective on his kingdom, does it not?
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Uh--no… Actually, it’s…” Elias stepped away from the ledge and pointed towards the roof-access. The flat roof had a door, a small structure, likely where a set of stairs reside. However, there’s more attached to the small roof-access area. Someone had, at some point long ago, installed an extension… and made additional improvements all over. What’s most prominent is the wooden canopy that rests over the door in an awning fashion. Wisteria hangs from the edges, threatening to bloom any day now.
The air is very sweet, as well it should be, given the many potted plants and the small plot of fertile soil designated as a type of garden. Though, Elias dare not take from that garden. What grows there is not produce or vegetables. Likely, there’s a druid that lives in the immediate area, or a witch or wizard, and those odd things growing in the produce patch aren’t meant for eating, but likely spells or concoctions. Or at least, that’s what he guesses.
“This is… what I wanted to show you.” There’s a potent awkwardness radiating from the redhead, although such atmosphere didn’t seem to deter Devere the slightest. The pair walked towards the floral awning and found themselves sitting under the shelter it provided. The dim sea of lights stretched out before them in the night, and they sometimes broke the dull tunes from below with soft conversation and shallow sips from a bottle.
The entire time, while chatting and discussing the state of things, the trials and hardships, their differences and their experiences… Elias tried his best to commit the visage of Devere’s face to memory, framed by soft Wisteria. It was his plan all along, to memorize this moment.
They stole away shortly after Devere announced he was retiring early for the evening. From the prince’s grand window, the pair descended, disappearing from the balcony like thieves in the night. It’s hard to see the stars when the city’s lanterns glow so brightly below, but there are other sights worth seeing, even in the dark hours.
Elias provided a cloak that disguised Devere proper; Typically, dull and boring earth tones were not in the prince’s walk-in closet. To hide away his noble features, Devere is wrapped in humbleness and poverty. Hopefully that would be enough to hide his silvery skin and seafoam hair.
Hands gently clasp together as Elias leads the way through a crowded street, and they got lost among the common middle-class. There, surrounded among people who didn’t care who they were, they found trouble and excitement.
The most lively tavern in the bustling district, known as the Blue Siren, was fit to burst with life. People were singing to a tune the bard conjured, simplified chorus so they could stomp their feet and hollar between the breaks in the story. It was easier slipping through rowdy people, no one noticed if you were trying to be slick and discrete when chaos and merriment is being had. So getting to the bar counter unnoticed was easy; Squeezing between people to get an order in was going to be the hard part. Elias was not without determination, however--
His spare hand lifts, he waves, he fights for the eye of the half-orc woman behind the counter. She saw him, but she didn’t really have any urgency. If anything, she generally seemed annoyed and fed-up. Maybe with the rowdy boys and men that were causing such a ruckus, that would be most likely. In an attempt to curry her favor, Elias pulled up the coin pouch from around his neck and shook it. After handing off a refill to an already-pickled patron, she approached with a deadpan stare. It was not welcoming in the slightest.
“A bottle, please!” He raised his voice as best he could, leaning further over the counter.
“Of what.” She had no problem being heard at her normal, natural bravado.
A lengthy delay followed. Oh, he--… Elias didn’t think of what kind of bottle! Just… a bottle! Uh, oh no. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t really want anything alcoholic. He’d be left feeling sleepy and sluggish and anything here would taste awful to someone else with a more sophisticated palette, probably.
Elias released the hand he was previously holding and braced the tavern counter proper, leaning further over in hopes that the half-orc would hear, and the high elf would not. His hand was cupped and the grey amazon-like woman was reluctantly leaning forward. She braces the counter with an elbow.
“Something… not strong. Um, that doesn’t burn…” At first he’s not sure he heard her, and struggles for more words before she leans away, rolling her eyes as she walks down her side of the counter. When she returned, a bottle was put down on the faded wooden counter and she grunted, “Two silver.”
“What is it?”
“Wine for the weak. Two silver.”
With hot, burning ears, he fished out four pieces instead of two and set them on the counter, and then stole away with the entire bottle. Without delay, he recaptures Devere’s hand and guides him gingerly through several active bodies in the tavern. It was too crowded for comfort, after all. There are other places they could be. Better, higher places.
Not too far from where they currently were, in all actuality.
“One of my favorite spots, just around the corner here…” He turned when they exited, suddenly realizing how warm it was inside the tavern now that he could step out into fresh air again.
Another turn, down an alley, dark and noisy from the bard’s performance that carried out quite a ways. The wine bottle was tucked away into his tunic to prevent it from dropping and he groped along the wall of the building next to the tavern. His fingers found purchase on the vine trellis, which was coated in a thick layer of greenery that acted as the glue to keep the trellis stuck to the building.
It was a lengthy climb to the top, and long. Elias had to keep a slow pace for the company trailing behind him. Once they arrived at the top, however, Elias assisted Devere over the ledge to the roof and from there, they could see a decent view of the city. The bard’s voice was clear, if not occasionally accompanied by other voices for his chorus, but not obnoxiously loud from this safe distance. Lo, this vantage point is not as high as Devere’s balcony, but it gives the prince a new perspective on his kingdom, does it not?
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Uh--no… Actually, it’s…” Elias stepped away from the ledge and pointed towards the roof-access. The flat roof had a door, a small structure, likely where a set of stairs reside. However, there’s more attached to the small roof-access area. Someone had, at some point long ago, installed an extension… and made additional improvements all over. What’s most prominent is the wooden canopy that rests over the door in an awning fashion. Wisteria hangs from the edges, threatening to bloom any day now.
The air is very sweet, as well it should be, given the many potted plants and the small plot of fertile soil designated as a type of garden. Though, Elias dare not take from that garden. What grows there is not produce or vegetables. Likely, there’s a druid that lives in the immediate area, or a witch or wizard, and those odd things growing in the produce patch aren’t meant for eating, but likely spells or concoctions. Or at least, that’s what he guesses.
“This is… what I wanted to show you.” There’s a potent awkwardness radiating from the redhead, although such atmosphere didn’t seem to deter Devere the slightest. The pair walked towards the floral awning and found themselves sitting under the shelter it provided. The dim sea of lights stretched out before them in the night, and they sometimes broke the dull tunes from below with soft conversation and shallow sips from a bottle.
The entire time, while chatting and discussing the state of things, the trials and hardships, their differences and their experiences… Elias tried his best to commit the visage of Devere’s face to memory, framed by soft Wisteria. It was his plan all along, to memorize this moment.
