Jaedaxia? City of new opportunities? Places of the Aelyrian dream without living in the armpit of the empire? Yes, these had been things that Harvengure had heard of the city and in a way he been disappointed by his progress here.
Though he did blame the city in a sense, he knew it was more him then anything. He was new here and it was fortunate to have such a city "in his backyard". It would just take time for him to decipher how to be able to make his way in this city if he didn't want to travel to cities even further from home.
He was here and he had applied to join the protectorate, even if both were temporary. He had also purchased some rather fine clothing, compared to anything else he had ever owned.
These, however small, were victories on the path towards the bright and glorious self-envisioned fate that awaited Harvengure. And though disappointed by his progress, he was not going to let himself sour these victories.
Granted, he knew he was usually rather sullen for a Vagaran, but he was indeed still Vagaran and there are common threads in all Vagarans and one of them was knowing how to have a good time.
Another common thread was what had rumored Vagaran to rival even dwarfs and giants when it came to drinking so like a bloodhound to prey it wasn't hard for Harvengure to find a tavern. Especially since he wasn't at all discerning in his selection and for all he cared it did not matter if the tavern he'd end up drinking in that night was a wretched hive of scum and villainy or where all the blue blooded minor nobility fobs would go to unwind from the day.
This lack of preference is what would leave a good portion of this evening to forever be a blur in his memory when he looked back. In fact, should one ask him, he'd hardly be able to recall any details at all up to a point in that night and almost none at all to his remembrance of his singing.
The story does change of occasion....sometimes he is in his stool as he sings. Others; on a table or even on the bar itself. Regardless of where, the song always remains the same.
"You'll have to excuse me I'm not at my best,
I've been questing for days, I'm out of my depth
these so called adventures will soon be my death,
I am sick of this trip. I need home for a rest.
I arrived in Imperos, this town was quite cold,
Now I stay in the bars to get out from the snow.
I never saw nothing just quite like this town.
Gift of the Empire? They should call it the crown!
You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best
I've been questing for months
I'm just out of my depth
And these so-called adventures
Will soon be my death
I'm so sick from this trip
I need home for a rest
Take me home!
Gonehameau, I came from the North
To make my own name, I left and went forth.
Past old Vladimgrad through Serewood's green trees.
And just to my luck, you were seeking draftees.
By the light of the moon, she'd drift through the streets
A rare old perfume, so seductive and sweet
She'd tease us and flirt, as the bars all closed down
Then walk me on home and deny me a round
You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best
I've been questing for months
I'm just out of my depth
And these so-called adventures
Will soon be my death
I'm so sick from this trip
I need home for a rest
Take me home....
My coin purse near empty, this trip's been no boon
The spirits we drank now ghosts in the room
I'm soused up again, come on sleep take me soon
And don't lift up my head 'till the the twelve bells at noon
You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best
I've been questing for months
I'm just out of my depth
And these so-called adventures
Will soon be my death
I'm so sick from this trip
I need home for a rest
Take me home!"