The Rush (0/3 pass)

The crowd seems to close in on her. Under their beaming eyes, glaring, in want of their orders. It proves to be too much. Havilah slips her fingers when pouring the flagons. Not but twenty are filled when a tray falls splashing all to the ground.

The crowd yearns, lamenting loudly with groans of apathy towards her plight.

She shakes cleaning it up, uncomfortable with the failure on full display. Without another round of drinks the revelry dies down and a throng of people became just a lively tavern. The citizen received their drinks in due time, but the halfling found difficultly in rolling the next barrel of mead to the cold bar. Even when she sallied out to deliver, she was so fatigued that when one patron stepped on her foot she went tumbling down, and became a fermented honey covered mess.

When it died down she checked the tip jar, it had only grown by thirty six pieces, a pittance for the work.

+36 gold