Role

Chapter 2

In her travels, including a brief time spent in a gnomish city filled with
simple, but hearty folk, she took up tending bar as a means of both
people watching and learning. From there, she traveled further south
briefly learning more about mixology and how best to mind her own
business within the unyielding and oft-times cruel precincts of Udgaard.
Truthfully there was more to learn from such willingly hardened souls,
but the general atmosphere alone was enough to put her off lingering
beyond what she felt was mete.

She'd always had a love of music, as most elves tended to, and would
spend her off-time beyond the bar playing tunes that like the alcohol she
served, she hoped would allow people to throw off the shackles of their
day to day existences in lieu of losing themselves in musings or melodies
instead. For as common wisdom would seem to dictate to any soul willing
to pause and reflect, the humdrum monotony of existence was always
there waiting, so prized and treasured moments of levity and escape were
more rare and precious than anything save levity and joy themselves.

Blind luck or divine happenstance guided her feet to the Inn of the Eternal
Star where she was graced in meeting the High Herald, Aiya who by chance
also turned out to be a fellow wood-elf, who both did and didn't remind her
of her cherished Gin. During their conversation, Fy's words and attitude
seemed to please the High Herald, and when a strange pancake was offered
up, much like a coin flip only entirely not, Fy chose aright for both she and
a young healer named Njork, and they each pursued their passions. He as a
Weaver and she as a Bartender, hoping to learn from those she serves even as
she might occasionally offer up some tidbit of wisdom that like any seed, might
or might not germinate and find a home in the soil of the listener. But she
firmly believes, the gods gave everyone two ears and eyes and only one mouth
for a reason.