+ A Bartender’s Goodbye +

[Naufragium 614]

A freshly harvested oaken post is seen hammered into the dirt where the tavern in New Esbec is to be built, a letter attached to it. The parchment would be stained a slight brown, the strong smell of alcohol and cinnamon emanating from it. Upon the note, the sigil of an orange owl would be stamped in wax, and the final line would be written in orange ink. The letter read, in what was perhaps the best handwriting ever seen from Avalor:

 

Hunters, Friends, Family. You all know me best as the barkeep, the tavernkeep, the tired man behind the counter. However I have always wanted to be more. I never wanted my name to be confined to the calls of drunkards. Instead, the calls of glory and valor seek me, and I intend to answer. And so, to meet these calls, I am going to step down as Alderman and Leutnant, and relinquish my position to whomever the council may deem fit, effective the moment this letter is laid eyes on. I am doing so because I wish to build a notable reputation for myself and the Astasel name that extends far beyond serving drinks. And now, in this new world, Esbec is finally at a place where the aforementioned is possible. Esbec is no longer an empty swamp town, but a bustling community full of life. I am sure now that I leave my work and position within Esbec in capable hands, and I feel I am no longer needed for the success of the town. Now this does not mean that I cannot return or visit from time to time of course! I will be checking in to see how the town is going here and there, and to make sure the new tavernkeep is not making a mess of my name! I will be taking my brews with me, all but the Esbec Jasmine Tea which will remain. And I do intend to continue brewing, as I do enjoy it so, perhaps in a new tavern wherever I may find myself. But alas, the time has come for my departure from this no-longer-humble town of which I have come to love. So I bid my goodbyes to all of those who are close, and I pray that good fortune will bless those who are deserving. We will all meet again, but until that day comes to pass, farewell my friends and godspeed.

 

May your hunts be bountiful, and your blades strike true. 

 

Your Barkeep, Avalor Astasel

 

[Covey 466]

Anduin brings his palm up to the tacked parchment. His eyes briefly skim over it before his hand returns to his side. The parchment remained suspended by the quiet breeze for a few moments before returning to its resting spot upon the post. "Good luck t' ye, Astasel." Anduin utters to the quiet streets of Esbec before carrying on with his business.