For my last task of the Writing Challenge, I decide to draw a little from my own past. Hope you enjoy!
Take a look at the text below. This is the beginning of a story. Your task is to finish it.
Directions:
I poured the milk over the cornflakes and I was just about to start reading my morning newspaper when my son Peter who was 10 years old at that time surprisingly asked me a question:
-- Dad, how did you meet my mom?
Since it was Saturday and the bad weather has changed our plans for the weekend, I decided to spend some time with him and tell him the whole story.
-- Of course, Peter. I'm surprised that you haven't asked me earlier. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. It happened on a warm August day two years before you were born….
The Wayside Inn
I opened the heavy oak door to the wayside inn. It was already dark by the time I unsaddled my horse and brushed her down, and the inn was beginning to fill up with its usual denizens as well as some weary travelers like myself.
I looked around the room, adjusting the saddlebags over my shoulder to a more comfortable position as I saw the patron. A jovial fellow, it seems, as he was smiling and laughing with one of his regulars. I half expected his visage to change to coldness when his eyes fell on me - but they didn’t. He gave me a more reserved smile, but it was still genuine.
OK, I thought, seems like I made the right choice of inns. I walked up to the bar and offered a smile which I hoped was suitably genuine in return.
“G’d evenin’,” he said, rubbing his towel at a spot on the bar more out of something to do with his hands than the fact it needed any cleaning. “Stayin the night? That’ll be 1 silver, includes dinner and breakfast and sleepin’ for one.” he said casually, and then leaned forward with a more serious tone of voice that brooked no argument, “but the drinks er extra.”
“Yessir.” I managed not to wince as I felt the meager coins in my purse, considering. The other inn seemed more…economical, but, sleeping with cockroaches and cutpurses is not my idea of a restful night. I decided this would have to do, reluctantly parted with my silver, and turned to take a seat in the far, dark corner of the room.
With my back to the wall, I had a good view of the entire room and a clear shot to the front door, just in case there was someone who wanted to start trouble. The serving wench gave me an odd look when I ordered water, but she shrugged and returned with my glass without a further word, off to serve the more affluent patrons.
So there I sat, one hand on my sword hilt, the other around the glass of water I ordered. Maybe it was difficult to look menacing and mysterious drinking a glass of water, but I wasn’t of legal drinking age anyways, so the whole beer/ale/mead thing didn’t really have much appeal. Plus, water is always free.
I noticed there was a particularly raucous woman at the bar, wearing a few pieces of well-placed string to hide…well, not sure what they were hiding, really. She burst into laughter that filled the room and sat down onto lap of some sort of dragon. I didn’t, up until that point, know that dragon’s had laps, but there you have it.
I dismissed those two from my thoughts and looked over at a woman sitting at the bar, obviously some sort of vampire who was brooding into her glass of some dark liquid and being rude to any who try to approach her. Vampires. They’re so emo, I thought.
I sighed, wondering if sitting here was a mistake. I’m not sure what I was thinking would happen here. Did I think I’d actually meet someone worthwhile? Nobody here was really my type. I laughed at myself and shook my head. I should just have them send my meal upstairs.
I stood to tell the serving wench that I’ll bring my meal to my room, when suddenly I heard a distant voice yelling from far, far away but coming closer at great speed. I looked around but no one else seemed to care much, as if it’s perfectly normal to hear screaming. My hand flew to the hilt of my sword and I stood up, awaiting the coming doom and the screaming voice gets louder and louder and it seemed like it as coming….from above?
I looked up in time to see the wooden boards of the ceiling splinter and release a plume of dust just above an empty seat at the bar. Ready to spring into action, I waited for the dust to settle before I decided my next course of action…still no one else seemed worried. Should I be?
The bar tender looked over to where the dust and pile of broken boards settled and slid a glass of some caramel-colored liquid and ice down to the dust cloud.
“Rough night, Ravin?” he spoke to the cloud. “Ya, can’t stay connected. I keep getting booted!” said a female voice from within the cloud that began to settle into a female shape. Then I could see she was a half-elf, dressed in dark brown leather and a short sword at her side.
She sipped her drink while her other hand shooed away the remaining dust particles threatening to get into her drink. And then it happened: she looked over to me and smiled. I hadn’t realized I was staring, and now she caught me staring at her! But at the same time, I was thrilled. There was something different about her - apart from falling through the ceiling instead of using the front door like everyone else. I had to find out more about her. Ravin was her name.
It was then that I realized I was still crouched, ready for battle with my blade partway out of its scabbard. I laughed, embarrassed as she raised an eyebrow at me, and I stood up straight and putting the sword away.
My eyes sought hers again, afraid that she’d have moved on to some other guy, someone more flashy and outgoing. But instead, she was smiling. At me! Not mocking, but she actually seemed intrigued by my awkwardness somehow.
“What’s your name?” she asked politely, as if she couldn’t see already what it was. But that was how you did things around here.
“Striderzzzzz,” I said, not really sure of what else I could say, so I fell silent.
“That’s an awful lot of “zzzz”’s. What are they for?” she asked before taking another sip of her drink.
“It’s to show I’m fast,” I said, immediately mortified at how stupid that must sound. Dangit, stupid! Unsure of how to recover, I laughed a little and looked down at my hands, wondering how I can salvage this conversation.
Her laughter cut through he room, but not the laughter of derision but delight. I looked up, surprised, to find her smiling at me and gesturing to the seat next to her for me to join her.
I took the seat, grinning like a school boy, a little dumb-founded, and lot shell-shocked.
“What’ll you have?” she said, getting the bar tender’s attention and quickly looking back to me with her big, hazel eyes. At that moment, I knew I was done for.
—————
I looked back at my son, his eyes big and hazel, just like his mother’s. The look on his face is a mixture of shock, and humor, as if he thinks any moment now I’ll tell him that was all a joke. But it’s not.
—That’s right, Peter,
I said as I tousled his hair and looked out the window as the rain softly pelted the panes.
—I met your mother in a role playing chat room.
Thanks to 
for doing an awesome job with this challenge! I learned a lot and really enjoyed myself too!
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