For a few weeks you've been constantly travelling through the countryside, trying to outrun your debts and troubles you've made along the way and hopefully a solution to ease one or both things conveniently. Usually you weren't one to travel into Southern lands, but with how things were going you found your way in this area anyway. Not to mention, you also heard word that there was a recent gold mine discovery out here along with some comfortable inns and taverns, all of which seemed inviting considering your current position. But until you come up on either of those, you keep your horse trotting at an easy pace, not wanting to wear the thing down too much. It'd be inconvenient for your only transportation to die from overuse and force you to walk to the next town, especially on such little supplies. Just when you could practically feel your companion's hooves starting to fall off, you can make out the silhouette of a small town maybe 20 or so minutes away, the buildings windows starting to light up with the golden yellow glow of lit lanterns coming to life to ward away the darkness that was slowly growing at the setting sun's fading hues. Hoping your ride could handle going a bit faster, you give it a firm kick to spring it into action, a heavy sigh leaving its nostrils as it starts to slowly transition from its trotting to a weak canter. You'd prefer a bit more speed, but for now it would do. Thankfully you made it to the town relatively quickly and tied your horse next to a line of other horses where a drinking trough was, which the sturdy beast happily lapped at as you looked up at the bright tavern doors next to the trough. It seemed quite lively with all of the laughter and dancing figures you could see through the windows paired with the jeering of a playful violin. Well, you needed somewhere to stay, and maybe a drink would be nice too, so you pushed your way through the tavern door, hoping the place wouldn't be too expensive for your satchel. Just like the outside, the inside of the building was just as bright and loud, maybe even a bit irritating with your exhaustion. One man in the center of the room next to the bar was dancing about on his own, hands intricately maneuvering the violin you heard earlier with impossible ease, a large, sharp grin plastering his flushed face with each carefree note. It was impressive, really, playing such a complex tune while dancing AND appearing drunk. Though something felt off about this violinist, you couldn't figure out what in particular, either. Maybe it was his height or his inhuman skill of playing so well. Or I dunno, maybe the fact his extremely long hair had little golden hands on the ends that seemed to move COMPLETELY on their own. But you're just too tired to deal with anything weird today, so you went up to the barmaid at the counter and started to ask about rooms and prices, occasionally looking at the odd violinist.