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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ukingsken" data-source="post: 4789878" data-attributes="member: 78358">As the door to the building flies open, Cheysuli realizes that her idea of a tavern may have just drastically changed. In place of roughly hewn, 3 inch thick boards for tables and chairs, the furniture here is meticulously carved, almost sculpted. Each table has the lotus motif repeated on the legs and dragonsclaws for feet. The bar itself is a masterwork of cherry wood, the lip of the bar itself forming the crest of a wave that rises from the floor. A few people take note of your entrance, but other then a mild look of distaste everyone seems fixated on the small stage on the other side of the room. A beautiful woman, with brilliant red hair the color of rubies, and deep brown skin is sitting quietly, a small stringed insturment similar to a lyre in her hand. With a fluid grace, she snaps the instrument up, resting the base under her chin and begins to play a haunting melody. As she plays her voice rises, hard like the crackle of flame but somehow beautiful. While you know not the words, the music evokes a feeling of great history in your blood. People motion that you should sit, as waitresses mill about the room serving something that steams from small ceramic jugs. Mr. Bricks quickly scans the room, notices no threats but picks the old dragonborn out sitting in the far corner.</blockquote>