BT: Intro

The intro to the story. The man in the bar starts to retell a tale.

    Here I sit at my usual table at the run down bar.  The firelight doing its best to make the cramped and dingy area seem brighter, more homely.  Bringing the ale to my mouth, I’m no longer bothered by its poignant smell.  ‘My bread helps to filter out most of the less desirable sediment in the drink,’ I muse with a slight chuckle.  Slowly raising a hand, I move a stray bit of hair that has fallen into the drink.  Tucking it behind my ear, I see the bar maid coming to my table.
    ‘Anything else,’ she asks.  She knows me by now.  I can see the excitement behind her calm façade.  The weaving of tales is my trade.  I’ve lived for quite a while and know plenty of stories.  Stories of love or loss, of war or peace, of friendship or hatred; I know them all.  I slowly raise my eyes towards hers.  Slumping back in the chair, I turn my head towards the fire.
    “Let me tell you a story,” I begin as the whole bar quiets down.  Looking into the fire, I let myself get pulled into the story.  The bar disappears as the story world envelopes me.  This world is more intoxicating than the slop I’ve just drunken.  I begin…

Author's Note

Any tips, comments, or critiques are welcomed.