Heavy plate armour slamming against the paving made a mighty clang - one that was sure to wake up anyone who still slept in the purple, floating city of Dalaran. Raleigh had stepped into a couple of mage-made portals before, but since then his knowledge of the nether travels had indubitably rusted. Despite the rocky start, he got up, and after wiping his armour for any hints of dust, he made his way to A Hero's Welcome.
The tavern was still sleepy at the early hour. Nevertheless, its warm atmosphere had always been dear to Raleigh Croft - something that continued to face him with open arms - with a hero's welcome. Another warm welcome awaited him behind the shiny, freshly wiped counter. A young waitress turned to look at the still somewhat groggy paladin.
”Good morning, sir!” The waitress yelled joyfully. Her voice was of very high pitch, nearly child-like.
”A very fine morning to you as well, my fair lady,” the man said with a soft tone in his voice and a warm smile on his face, reaching all the way up to the corners of his eyes.
”How may I serve you today?” She chuckled with curved lips.
Raleigh had always been rather fond of her. It wasn't merely the extraordinarily voluptuous coffee that kept bringing him to the tavern over and over.
”I would take great pleasure in a cup or two of your special coffee. That, of course, should you have time for such trivial matters so early in the morning.”
The fair-haired, long-eared waitress began to conjure the drink with haste. Her graceful figure danced to the spell as her long fingers brushed through the air in peculiar motions. It almost appeared as if she was indulging the paladin in some sort of special treatment, but alas, it was probably just Raleigh's wishful thinking.
She slowly handed over a cup of coffee to him, following the mug with her gaze and thus ensuring the white ceramic mug would get keep its white colouring. As a sign of thankfulness, Raleigh leaned forward to bow at the waitress; yet the gesture came out rather clumsy as he spilled a sip-worth of coffee to the tavern floor. The half-elven waitress giggled at him, then made a minuscule roundish motion with her hand, one that wasn't visible to Raleigh as her hands were hidden beneath the counter.
As Raleigh climbed up the stairs leading to the balcony, he stopped at a mirror for a short moment. Within the golden lining stood a man with green eyes and red hair that didn't quite reach his shoulders. His nose and cheekbones were covered by freckles that could be spotted all over his face, but in greatly smaller amounts. The wrinkles around his eyes spoke of worries, which the emerald twinkle however seemed to not care about. His lips curved on a minor smile as he turned away from the mirror and continued to walk up the stairs.
. . .
A pair of glasses rested lazily on the bridge of his nose. Rough hands held a book, allowing the emerald eyes to devour it word by word. The book's red-ish cover was mildly stained – it had indubitably been soaked in drops of coffee more than once in its lifetime. But Sunday morning doesn't care about a stained book. It doesn't care about the dirt on your boots, nor is it bothered by ghosts of the past. Sunday morning knows no fear of loneliness or death. It laughs at the face of evil like an impertinent child. If a soul has no Sunday morning, it becomes an orphan.
Flipping the page, Raleigh allowed his hand to slide ever so slightly too far, nudging the coffee cup a tad too violently.
”Son of a...”
His cursing was interrupted by surprise, as the coffee didn't spill out of the cup. He playfully flipped the cup around. The coffee stuck to the bottom of the mug, refusing to leave it under any circumstances he could provide. Those mages really knew how to twist the laws of nature. Raleigh chuckled to himself as he resumed to read his book.
. . .
”Would you like more coffee, sir?” A chirpy voice appeared next to him, its host holding a warm can above his coffee mug.
Raleigh raised his gaze from the inky words, already smiling at the request.
”Certainly.”
