In the corner a guitarist played, his fingers flying over the strings to a melancholy tune. It was another day in the Running Hare, the beer flowed and the conversation didn't, a more miserable group of men you'd be unlikely to find, even among dwarfs who make being miserable an art. It was a Thursday, probably, days don't have much meaning to those who never leave a tavern, and Thursdays had a good chance of being a bad day, especially for those in a tavern. You see every third Thursday of the month the princes soldiers would wander down to the docks and "enlist" any men they could find to serve in the princes fleet, others would call it press ganging, the patrons of the Running Hare didn't, they didn't call it anything, it was just another day, a Thursday.

And so the day went, more beer flowed and more conversation didn't. Occasionally someone would fall asleep and start snoring normally stopped by thrown objects, the basket of stones on the bar being a popular choice while more discerning patrons often had larger objects for this particular task. Unfortunately those knocked unconscious would often continue to snore, and when they woke up, assuming they did then they would probably regret falling asleep.

Now and then objects would be thrown at the sleeping customers, but more common was the rattle of dice and bones as they were tossed, money was lost and arms broken for cheating, it was another day in the Running Hare.

About 3 o'clock in the afternoon, soldiers entered to a still silent room, their bright uniforms making the tavern look even dirtier, a task not easily achieved as dirty as it was. As the young officer was about to speak the beam beside him seemed to grow a crossbow quarrel, perhaps suspiciously the innkeeper was holding an empty crossbow which he was staring at intently. He then threw it away with a look of disgust. And returned to wiping the filthy bar with an even filthier rag.

About 7 o'clock that evening a patrol of the princes soldiers ran past the Running Hare looking for one of the press gangs that had been sent out earlier, they had disappeared at some time in the afternoon. Inside the Running Hare, it looked as it always did, except for some missing customers and some new stains on the floor and a table that needed repairing being thrown into the hearth.

It was just another day in the Running Hare and tomorrow was rent day...