Welcome to the Flaming Faggot

Callovia is called "the boundless empire" yet you have managed to find its northern border - a notorious roadhouse deep within the Madrasan Marches on the edge of the wilds of Llanvirnesse. The sign above the door reads "Flaming Faggot," which would suggest a cozy, homey inn with fresh biscuits served at teatime if not for the severed troll heads mounted on pikes at the gate.

As you cross the threshold the raucous din quiets momentarily as all eyes dart to the door and calloused hands drop instinctively to well-worn sword hilts. The threat, instantly assessed, is dismissed and roadhouse patrons go about their business hardly missing a beat.

Grim, hard-eyed men huddle around tables in close conversation thick with conspiracy; caravan guards gamble away their earnings; Caemric rangers sit close to the fireplace cooking the damp of the Black Annis from their clothes as they warm their innards with Red Dragon Ale; minstrels play and buxom wenches dance for the pleasure of men who pay them little attention - until they need a companion to warm their bed.

As you approach the bar, a huge, bald barman with a greatsword slung across his back slides a mug of freshly-pulled ale towards you, its frothy head dripping over the rim.

"Pull up a seat, lad," he says, "and let me tell you a tale of high adventure."

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

After Dark

I went out for a walk through my neighborhood last night, strolling along Scotia Street on the banks of the Red River, enjoying a perfect October evening.  It was a warm night and the air smelled of burning leaves, though this may only have been my imagination.  I haven't seen anyone actually do that since I was a kid, and I'm not sure if it's even legal anymore.  Regardless, it felt and smelled like October; it was a perfect evening to let my mind run free as I walked and my feet carried me, almost of their own volition, to the old graveyard near St. John's Park, before turning around and heading for home.

Throughout the walk, my favourite Tito & Tarantula song, After Dark, ran through my head, which you might remember as the song that vampire/stripper Salma Hayek danced to in the movie Dusk to Dawn, and I had to resist the urge to look over my shoulder to check for any pallid women haunting my footsteps in the dark.  Yep, it's beginning to feel a lot like Halloween.

After Dark - Tito & Tarantula

3 comments:

bliss_infinte said...

Ha! There's nothing like freakin' yourself out. Nice creepy song too.

Shane Mangus said...

Great song from a great band.

Sean Robson said...

I should have known that you also would be a T&T fan, Shane. Are you sure you aren't my evil twin?