Blood Stained Gloves

Tobias  woke up with a searing pain in his gut, coughing up blood onto his fur gloves. Although it wasn’t the first time Tobias had forgotten an adventurous night, it was the first time he never made it to a bed or couch. He sat up, cast in the shadow of an empty tavern as the nausea hit him like a drunken minotaur. He placed one hand on some rotted wet wood and his other on a patch of what he hoped was just dirt. He took a deep breath, the sun was still rising into a cloudless sky. Tobias pulled off his gloves, placing them in the cleanest spot he could reach. Passerbys ignored or glared at Tobias as he rubbed his hands together.
Across the street was Tryssee's Place. Where Tobias had blacked out. Another searing pain accompanied the haze of last night’s drinking. Tobias remembered being angry, and ordering shots; the rest of the night was gone, obscured by nothing. A hollowness that echoed Tobias’s loss of memory; he was no longer in control. He coughed, shifting to sit up against a rotted wood wall. His legs twitched against the cold stone.
Tobias looked up. He watched a small crow land on a far roof. It struggled, pulling at something hidden beneath a broken shingle. Tobias closed his eyes, rubbing his knuckles across the ground. His shoulder still ached from the goblin arrow he took last week from the last drunken fit. He had thought he knew what rock bottom was. But nothing was clearer now. Rock bottom was waking up on the street, huddled against a wall as the smell of stale piss wafted by.
Tears welled in Tobias’s eyes. His face stung as the freezing air clung to wet streams that descended the contours of his cheeks. He once found his uncle Ander passed out, drenched in sweat and snoring against the Lucky Lavender Tavern back in Neverwinter. He remembered the distaste he felt. Tobias had never felt farther from Ander than when he helped him home that morning. He was a teenager at the time holding the half awake Ander as they stumbled home. Later that day they both laughed it off; Tobias had had a glass of wine while his uncle had the bottle.
Tobias understood why his father Mindartis hated Ander, and why his mother Kethra was so distant from her brother. Visits with Ander were always short, business first. Kethra kept Ander at arms length, while Mindartis ignored his disappointment of a step-brother. Young Tobias had been unaware of all of this, enamoured by the fantastical nature of his uncle’s life. Tobias now figured he cared little for Ander, what he craved were the stories, the city, the music, the people and the drink. Ander left Tobias with a thirst for excitement and a greed for opportunity.
Tobias coughed, keeling over onto his hands and knees. He dry heaved as his stomach tried to expel last night’s forgotten dance. The pain that emanated from his gut made him question if it was just the alcohol or if he had picked a fight. He grabbed onto a gap in wall he was sat next to, raising himself up. He leaned against the wall, gathering his breath. He glared at the door to Tryssee’s place.
Tobias pushed his way into the empty tavern, quiet as if the revelry from last night was sleeping off a drunken dream. Gabrielle stood at the center of the stage, jotting down notes in a bright green notebook. Behind the bar was her brother Nero, who turned to face the mess that walked through the door.
“Hey we’re closed.” Nero said. He was a handsome young man with broad shoulders, and wore a sweat stained shirt as he cleaned. “Tobias, is that you? Didn’t make it home last night?”
Tobias’s cheeks flushed, he flourished his cloak in an attempt to clean his face. “No, it appears not.” He said, giving Nero the best smile he could muster. “Could I get the highlights from last night?”
“Sure thing.” Nero placed his cleaning rag over his shoulder and moved to grab himself a glass. He nodded to Tobias and pointed at a second glass.
“No thanks, think I’m good for a while.”
“You did drink enough to last a lifetime.” Nero chuckled to himself, filling his glass with an amber mead. “One of my favorites, honey really comes through.”
All Tobias could smell was his pounding headache, as if a dwarven smith had taken up shop against the back of his forehead. He locked eyes with Nero and coughed.
“So, there’s actually not to much to say, you came in lookin’ like you needed a drink. Then Julia came in lookin’ like she needed a drink. Y’all shared a drink or two. But after the music started up, you and her started pounding the drinks back. She left at some point and then you left a little later. Doesn’t seem like you made it very far though. Anyways, didn’t know you y’all knew each other, small mining town in the middle of the mountains, ya know.” Nero said laughing to himself. “You sure you don’t want a drink? It’d be on the house, you made me a little coin last night.”
“What?” Tobias said.
“Well. To be honest, a few of us had a bet on which of the two of you would cave first.” Nero said, finishing the mead he poured himself. “I got to get back to cleaning, you need anything else?”
“You mentioned something about the music last night?”
“Yeah, Blaine Lohk had one of his best performances yet. If you want to know more, ask my sister, she sets up the gigs.”
Tobias’s memory stirred, at the mention of the name. He remembered watching the musician take the stage, with the same swagger as his ex lover Farwin. It hurt all the more when the music was beautiful and even more as the eyes of the tavern were transfixed upon the stage. The talking ceased, allowing Tobias the time to think. He felt the anger rise. Tobias turned to Julia who stared at her empty drink. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Shots on me!”