Warm shade and warmer drinks
greet you as you make your way
out of the chill and into the %nt,
smiling at the serving wench who
holds a mug of ale ready for the
first thirsty man...&
It is a relief to move
inside the %nt, away from the
chilling summer air, and you feel
that a mug of grog might
be in order...&
You enter the %nt, feeling
the shadows fall over your
face like a blanket...&
You shake the rain from your
shoulders and enter the %nt,
hoping for a place where you can
at last rest and dry out...&
A burst of the cold summer
rain follows you into the %nt,
and you follow the many paths of
muddy footprints to the bar...&
Dripping from the cold summer
tempest outside, you enter the
%nt, relieved to have found shelter...&
Although the sun isn't
shining, the chill has
frozen your clothes to your back like a
second skin. As you close
the door to the %nt your eyes
search for a warm dark corner in
which to rest...&
It is uncomfortably cold and
dry in the %nt, almost as bad
as the chilly summer day
outside...&
You walk into the %nt from
the cold, cloudy day, welcomed
by the other patrons sequestered
away from the elements...&
You are greeted by warm
laughter and merry talk as you
enter the %nt. Torches around the tavern
shed light on this cold summer night...&
The wind and chill of the
day have disappeared, and it has turned
out to be a pleasantly cool night.
The torches on the walls of
the %nt light up many a face...&
The summer night is colder than
the day had been, and you enter
the %nt craving something warm and dry...&
You enter the %nt, heartened
by the smells of food and
spices, and prepare to relax in
the warm sunlight...&
The fiery autumn sun
disappears as you enter the %nt.
The sounds of laughter, clinking
glasses, and banging cooking
pans meet your ears...&
The townsmen have met in the
%nt to celebrate a good summer
season. Their exuberance is infectious.
Oh great, you say to yourself,
I'll probably have this stupid drinking
song in my head all day...&
You enter the %nt and shake
the chill rain from your
shoulders, hoping for a fire of
some sort to dry yourself...&
Cold wind and rain follow
you into the %nt like a beggar.
You wipe your wet shoulders and
head as you head for the
fireplace...&
Shivering from the cold
autumn tempest, you escape
into the %nt. Other miserably wet
people have gathered in
dripping groups...&
The %nt tavern you enter is
brightly lit and colorful,
compared to the cold, dark clouds
that hang in the sky...&
You walk out of the cloudy
autumn day into the %nt, the
smell of baking bread pulling on
you like a lure...&
On an overcast autumn day
like today, the %nt is very
popular and you can see why.
It certainly lifts the spirits...&
You enter the %nt,
rubbing the chill night air from
your bones. The tavern is full of
people bustling here and there...&
On this freezing autumn night,
the %nt seems especially
inviting. You smell apples baking
in the kitchen and look forward
to your first draught of ale...&
The warm smells of tobacco
smoke and simple foods draw you
into the %nt from the freezing
autumn night...&
You enter the %nt,
feeling the hearth fire slowly
chasing away the chill that has
crept into your bones from
this winter's day...&
It is a freezing day, and the red-cheeked
townspeople in the %nt drink
their mulled wine to a toast
for a long hibernation...&
The winter sunlight shining
through the %nt windows helps little
compared to the roaring fireplace
to warm your chilled body...&
You close the door on the
cold and rub your hands together,
warming them. Ahead of you the
innkeeper of the %nt hails you welcome,
holding a steaming mug of mulled wine...&
Great billows of wind
follow you into the %nt
like a shadow. The floor is
wet with the footprints of the patrons...&
Mulled wine is the featured
drink today in the %nt. You shake
the cold from your shoulders and
think that nothing could sound better...&
The bright colors of the
interior of the %nt add life to
the otherwise gray day...&
You enter the %nt and your
frozen senses revive to the
smell of fresh baked bread and the sound of the patrons
laughing with the serving wench...&
The serving wench is passing
other patrons mugs of warmed mulled
wine as you enter the %nt from
the cold, cloudy day...&
You enter the %nt out of the frozen winter
night, making your way closer to
the fire...&
The %nt seems to be the last
bastion of warmth and light
against the arctic darkness outside...&
Rubbing your hands briskly
together, you enter the %nt. The fireplace is so grand in
the room, in short time you feel almost too warm...&
The chill breath of spring follows you
into the %nt, bringing with it
the smell of bloomed flowers
and ice fresh air...&
Through the open door and
windows, all the smells of
spring come into the %nt and the
freeze of the winter
months fly out...&
You walk into the %nt,
immediately wishing you were again
out in the cool spring day...&
You enter the %nt and wipe
your rain soaked head on a small
towel offered by the serving
wench. Outside the rare spring
shower continues...&
You are dripping wet as you
enter the %nt, but then again, so
are most of the rest of the
patrons. The bar wench is busily
passing out towels as well as drinks...&
You can still hear the
spring tempest outside, beating against the
walls of the %nt...&
The %nt's colorful interior
adds life to the otherwise gray
spring day...&
Despite the rather cloudy
conditions outside, the atmosphere inside the %nt is
extremely lively. Someone could even get hurt...&
You leave the overcast
spring day and enter the %nt.
The smell of simple baked breads
coming from the kitchen seems
like an invitation to stay.&
You enter the %nt, searching
for a clear table at which you
can relax on this cool spring
night...&
The %nt is like a
beacon in the cool spring
night, full of torch light,
clinking glasses, and the
aromas of the kitchen...&
It is a cool spring night
outside, but you have no need
to seek out the fireplace on
entering the %nt. The tobacco
smoke and smell of new bread
trickles out the open windows...&
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