You ascend a flight of rustic old steps and reach a platform in the heart of a patriarchal oak tree. Its long drooping boughs and thick canopy of golden foliage interweave in one unbroken roof of leaves. Resting a hand on the railing you pause and shake your head slightly as if to wake from a dream.
Tiny candle lights flicker and dance all around
this treetop village. The soft gentle evening breeze, a
sweet and passionate wooer, kisses the blushing leaves stirring
up life, making them bow to its quivering touch. Heard in
the tranquil night, high above, hummingbirds sing
their enchanting song. In the warm blush of the evening, shines
the moon upon a silver-mirrored lake. Pure reflections this
heavenly light, from a beaker, full of the richest dyes, it
skilfully paints, with soft brush like strokes, this wayside inn
and the majestical oak. Far in the distance in the mellow light
rose the blue hills, hovering over them, a cloud of white.
All around, as if in an uplifted cone, the sweet fragrance of the night air fills the senses. You suddenly become aware of your own creation as a presence seems to uplift you. The quiet, sweet spirit of Life, of Beauty and of Nature itself. It inspires you, as it has the bards that have stood here before on the same platform, and warms your soul with new vitality. Low and loud, yet sweetly blended, a clock chimes the hour, breaking your musing.
The tavern door creaks on its
hinges and opens wide. A young woman walks out laughing. Her
laughter peels like tinkling bells and resonates on the still
night air. Her long raven black tresses, cascade unruly down her
back. A thin plaited braid of leather sits above her eyebrows,
that have the graceful arch of a raptor's wings in
flight. Her soft tawny brown dress with a cream bodice of
intricately patterned lace, is a sharp contrast, and accentuates
the contours of her womanly body.
Half curious, half amused, her eyes large and dark and full of light, she stands in front of you. She meets your gaze and holds it with her own. Searching as if searching your soul.
In her eyes you see something that attracts you, a passion. A passion which courses through her and burns in her soul. A warning flashes briefly before you as you look deep into her eyes. You see a web, a web of mystery and can feel yourself being drawn as if by a magnet. You get the uncanny feeling that she knows your inner most secrets. An image of a fly in a spider's web quickly comes to mind, but just as quickly, vanishes.
She smiles alluringly and still holding the gaze, she extends her hand. Her lips move and she speaks softly. "Welcome m'lord to Bloodbane Tavern. Let me introduce myself. I am the Lady Fatalsnare," she pauses. "The enchanting, mysterious and sometimes Fatal, buxom Barkeep, Keeper of Bloodbane Tavern." she chuckles softly.
"Come enter, m'lord, into this warm haven, and relax by the ancient hearths. Ask for drink and food, and it shall be provided. Speak with us, and we shall befriend ye. Laugh with us and ye shall be welcomed ever again to this place. Miss not the opportunity to live and be part of this wakened dream." She loops her arm through yours and together you walk through the door.