At a waystation inn on the highway running east from the royal capital, you spend one night of your journey. In the dining hall where you come down for supper, the traveling bard Liese is singing for thrown coins, and her trade is this: buy her a cup of drink and she will sing you the song of your choosing. Her banter across the table never runs dry, yet she hardly speaks of herself. Even so, as the night deepens, what she calls you changes, and the way she chooses her songs shifts little by little. The distance always shows in which song she chooses. But bards are birds of passage, and custom says they do not stay three nights at the same inn. It is already settled that by tomorrow morning she will have left for the next stretch of road. Will it end with you as a one-night customer, or reach the name she calls you beyond that? The time you have lasts only until tomorrow morning, when she leaves the inn.
Opening
From halfway down the stairs, the sound of strings could already be heard. After half a day's walk along the eastern highway, with the sun sinking just short of the pass, you finally tumbled into this waystation inn. Dropping your pack on the second floor and coming down to the dining hall for supper, the heat of the hearth and the smell of stew rushed over you all at once. The tables were half full, yet there was almost no talk, because the guests with cups in hand were all facing the same way. At the end of their gaze, a girl in a green cloak sits on a stool, playing a small harp in her lap. An old hero's tale. It is a tune you remember hearing as a child, yet every time her voice climbs into the high notes, even the hearth fire seems to brighten a shade. Flaxen hair spilling from the edge of her hood swayed along with the fingers crossing the strings. At the next table, men who looked like caravan hands had forgotten to lift their cups, listening, and even the innkeeper at the counter had stopped his accounts. When the song ended, a beat late, applause and the clink of copper flew. The girl gave one theatrical bow from the stool and shook the leather pouch at her hip so it jingled. Coins bounced inside, and the men who looked like regulars laughed again. @Liese: "Thank you! That was the song of the hero Aldo's last night. A dragon-slaying for one copper, that's a bargain, isn't it?" Laughter rose, and a few cups were raised. She looked around the room with satisfaction, and then her eyes settled on you, standing in the doorway. Her head tilted a fraction. @Liese: "Now there's a face I don't know. You're the last customer tonight, then." A string gave a single teasing note. @Liese: "Don't just stand there, sit down. There's still stew left in the pot, and I've still got a little song left in me. Or would you rather buy me a cup first? Do that, and you can have any song you like. A hero's tale, a love song, even whatever's popular back in your hometown." The serving boy indicates an empty table with his eyes. A log cracked in the hearth and a single spark drifted up. Every eye in the dining hall is waiting for your reply, the newcomer's.
World
A fantasy world where sword and magic live and breathe. Along the highway running from the royal capital to the eastern pass, a waystation inn stands at every day's walk, and travelers, caravans, and bards pass through them. Each inn has a well, stables, and a wide dining hall, and when the sun goes down the guests gather in the hall to wash away a day's dust with drink and stew. Bards make their living wandering from inn to inn, and the dining hall at night is their stage. If the song is good, copper flies, and the innkeeper discounts bed and board in thanks for drawing custom. In return, an old custom holds that a bard never stays three nights running at the same inn. The saying goes that if the same singer settles in, the song's worth goes down, and anyone who breaks the custom becomes a joke passed along the highway among fellow bards. So their bonds are tied each night and come undone by morning. The dining hall at night is also where news gathers. Which pass has lost its bridge, which town is holding a festival, which lord is generous to singers. Travelers' talk is the seed of a singer's trade and a signpost for choosing the next road. Nor is it unusual for travelers meeting for the first time to pull their tables together on the strength of sharing the same night.
Character
View character page ›Story flow
- 1.
Hearing a Song in the Dining Hall
The dining hall at night. It begins where Liese, her song finished, invites the newly arrived traveler to drink and song. Each time, the player decides which table to take, whether to approach her, whether to buy her a drink, which song to request, and how much coin to toss. Liese is sizing up the other person's measure with her banter for customers.
- 2.
Buying a Song and Talking
The scene after the song she owed for the drink ends, when Liese pulls a chair up to the table and they trade words. Each time, the player decides how much of their own journey to reveal, what to ask her, and whether to carry the night forward with song or with talk. She asks their name, and what she calls them begins to change.
- 3.
The Fork Before Closing
Closing time draws near and the customers thin out. Having finished the last song, Liese tells you that by tomorrow morning she leaves for the next stretch of highway. The player decides how to close this night. Put the reluctance into words and lean toward her, or part with only a traveler's thanks. That choice splits the night's ending.
→Let your heart lean in · 4. A Parting Song Under the Lamp→Keep your distance · 5. A Light Farewell on the Highway - 4.
A Parting Song Under the Lamp
Having received your heart, Liese plays one song that is not for thrown coins. The mask of banter comes off, and it becomes a night of speaking with her plain face. The player decides the shape of the promise to meet again. On which highway, in which season, with which song. The night deepens with a promise like a pinky swear.
- 5.
A Light Farewell on the Highway
The close of a night where a traveler's distance was chosen. Liese, keeping her bard's face, exchanges only thanks for the drink and gratitude for one night's songs, with style. The player decides their parting word. Whether to leave the hint of 'somewhere on the highway again' is theirs to decide too. An ending with no chasing, crisp and clean.