The Bard Who Started a Tavern Brawl | A Medieval Fantasy for Study and Relax

Lorian Dumont had three remarkable talents. He could play the lute better than most bards in Embervale, remembered the words to nearly four hundred songs, and could usually tell when a tavern brawl was about to begin approximately three seconds before everyone else. That evening, he was performing at The Tipsy Griffin, one of Embervale’s busiest taverns. Merchants crowded the tables, adventurers gathered around the fire, two dwarves were arguing about something that had probably begun decades ago, and a company of soldiers had drunk enough to consider every song a masterpiece. It was, in other words, an excellent night for a bard. Lorian finished a romantic ballad to enthusiastic applause and began an old song called The Maiden and the Miller. A man at the back stood up. “That song is about my wife.” Lorian stopped playing. Another man rose from his chair. “Your wife? That song was written about my wife.” Lorian looked between them. “What an extraordinarily unfortunate coincidence.” Then he continued playing. That was his first mistake. His second came when one of the dwarves requested The Coward of Dunmarsh. Unfortunately, a knight from Dunmarsh was sitting three tables away. The third mistake involved a song called The Merchant’s Missing Trousers. The merchant was present. Lorian knew the signs. First came the silence. Then someone placed a mug on the table slightly too hard. Then a chair scraped across the floor. Three seconds. Lorian stopped playing. Two. He grabbed his coin purse. One. A mug flew across the room. Lorian disappeared behind the bar. The tavern exploded. Chairs overturned. A dwarf leapt onto a table. The knight of Dunmarsh tried to grab a merchant and accidentally punched a soldier. Someone threw a loaf of bread. Nobody knew why. Lorian crawled toward the kitchen while a chair shattered exactly where his head had been a moment earlier. “I’m not here,” he informed anyone interested. Nobody was. He found a pantry, rushed inside and closed the door. Finally, silence. Then someone lit a candle. Six other people were already hiding there: the innkeeper, a waitress, a merchant, an elderly woman, a goblin Lorian was fairly certain had not been inside the tavern five minutes earlier... And the knight of Dunmarsh. “You,” said the knight. Lorian smiled. “I can explain.” The pantry door was torn from its hinges. The explanation would have to wait. They fled back into the tavern, where the situation had somehow become worse. A dwarf was swinging from the chandelier. Someone was using a serving tray as a shield. The goblin had inexplicably acquired a pie. Lorian headed for the exit. Then he saw his lute lying in the middle of the room. He looked at the door. Then at the lute. Then at the door again. “I really liked that lute.” He went back. After dodging a mug and crawling beneath a table, Lorian rescued his instrument. Unfortunately, when he stood up, he found himself on top of a table in the middle of the tavern. Everyone looked at him. Lorian froze. Then he did the only thing he knew how to do. He played. Not a romantic ballad. Nothing about Dunmarsh. Definitely nothing involving wives or missing trousers. He played an old drinking song that everyone in Embervale knew. One dwarf joined in. Then a soldier. Then the waitress. Within a minute, half the people who had been punching one another were singing instead. Five minutes later, everyone was drinking again. The next morning, The Tipsy Griffin looked as though a small army had passed through it. The innkeeper handed Lorian a bill. Fourteen mugs. Nine chairs. Two tables. One chandelier. One door. And, for reasons nobody could adequately explain, a chicken. “I didn’t bring the chicken,” Lorian protested. “I know.” “Then why am I paying for the chicken?” The innkeeper pointed to the bottom of the bill. MUSICAL DAMAGES. Lorian sighed and surrendered nearly everything he had earned. Outside, he discovered a new sign beside the tavern door. BARD WANTED TONIGHT. Underneath, someone had added: NOT LORIAN. He stared at it. Then the innkeeper shouted from inside: “Come back Friday!” Lorian smiled. A good reputation was a complicated thing. ✨ Welcome to Tales from Embervale — a quiet corner of a fantasy world, where every melody carries a story. 🎧 Expect: Lively medieval fantasy melodies inspired by crowded taverns, wandering bards and adventures that get slightly out of hand. 🔮 Genres: Medieval Fantasy Music, Medieval Ambience, Relaxing Music. 🌿 Perfect for: 📚 Reading and studying • 🖋️ Writing and worldbuilding • 🍺 Fantasy adventures • 🎲 D&D and tabletop RPG ambience. ✨ What you'll feel: Warm firelight, crowded wooden tables, raised mugs, a lute playing somewhere nearby... and the distinct possibility that a chair is about to fly across the room. Welcome to Embervale. Sometimes the bard really should stop playing. 🎶🍺 #MedievalMusic #FantasyMusic #RelaxMusic #RpgMusic