*an Old Man sits telling his tale over a mug of ale. He nose and cheeks are rosie from drink, but his eyes are sparkling from laughter as he finishes his tale*
"... And so the old coot kept at the wagon master for immediate passage, screaming that Pyrtechon 'im self was on their heels an that if 'e an 'is wife didn't get immediate passage there'd be hell t' pay!" *He falls in to another fit of laughter. After a time he steadies himself*
"So the wagon master says, "If you really mean Pyrtechon I suggest ye get to walkin'! An 'e slammed the window shut and wouldn't open it fer nothin'! I swear the look on tha' man's face when the blinders came crashin' down... No amount of True could purchase."
*He barely manages to finish before falling into another heap of laughter. The lads around the table listening join in, some apparently understanding completely and others just laughing because laughter is contagious. The subject quickly turns to another man's tale of humor and the threads are spun, a light hearted moment in the musty grey-ness of the soot covered sky... Or was it?*
