The tavern’s regular clientele was the quiet sort, content enough to sit drinking ale and telling stories. There was the occasional fight by newcomers who didn’t know the first rule*, but they were irregular.

Bridget had stumbled across the tavern after running away from home, and had been working there for nearly fifteen years; she was one of the few humans there. She hadn’t expected to stay for so long, but the work was good. She hadn’t expected to find love either, but Karmare, the dwarvern barmaid, was kind and beautiful.

*Rule one: Any serious disagreement must be taken outside.

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