The tavern was the same as any other night; even from the outside, the noisy racket and clatter of the patrons could be heard. The bard gave a light hiccup as she drained the last few drops of ale from her glass, sliding it across the table to join its rapidly growing congregation of brethren. "Alright, alright, one more," she said with feigned reluctance. Despite her obvious intoxication, her voice was surprisingly clear. There was a roar from the boisterous crowd as she hoisted her thin frame up on the table; the barkeep's smile lessened a little as she set her muddy, travel-worn boots upon a chair. Paying him no mind, she unslung her instrument from her shoulder. After a few sour and dissonant chords, her slightly fogged mind remembered how to play the unusual contraption, and slowly, a flowing, lilting melody filled the room, piercing the murky din like a fresh breeze. The atmosphere settled into one of quiet, almost reverent, anticipation. She added several extra bars to the tune as she mentally stumbled about her drunken mind, finding all of the shards of the tale and quickly knitting them together as best she could. By now, there were few that hadn't heard this particular yarn, but it had quickly become a favorite - possibly because there were still those trying to pick out the truths from the typical bardic embellishments. The bard allowed herself a grin; she was one of the few people who knew for a fact that the whole thing was true. The last few notes of her prelude still hanging in the air in silent resonation, she began her tale.