So, I've written much better than this in the past, but I figured this would be sufficient to kick things off. Go ahead and make your entrances into the inn if you choose to show up there.
The merchant sat in the common room of the Scarlet Ogre, brooding over a tankard of ale. Business was down; at an all-time low. Those that usually arrived this time of year - the merchants, peddlers, vagabonds, and buyers and sellers alike - had not, and he had that feeling in his gut, that feeling that was never wrong though always sickening, that they never would. Stories had not been too supportive of the trade city Amisst. Not the stories told by bards, but by those that told rumors and spread whispers throughout the country. He had seen such work help his cause, but just as it did so in the past it was tearing him down. Of course, he could always relocate, find a different city, but Amisst was like home to him. He would do something about it.
A bard, a teller of stories, stood on a table atop the low stage, shadow long before the fire. He danced and waved an imaginative sword in the air, mimicking some character in a story. Abruptly he leaped, flickering lights sparkling for an instant before his feet touched the floor, and then leaned toward the audience and began to sing.
The sky is the stage, with a storm all around;
The audience helplessly waits on the ground.
The dragons above claim the sky as their own,
And flame marks the path over which they have flown.
Then up from below comes a thunderous cry;
The paladin airborne appears in the sky!
Each knight on his pegasus, lances at hand;
To battle they ride, in a glorious stand.
Mere words can't describe the magnificent fight,
As dragon and paladin battle this night.
Raw courage and steel against talon and breath,
As more than one hero earns honor in death.
The blood of both evil and good falls like rain,
But when it is over, no dragons remain.
Perhaps but a dream, or a vision, and yet,
Those sharing this vision shall never forget.
Everyone clapped and raucous praise and laughter rose. It only took moments for the room to go to silence once more as the bard continued his tale. The merchant breathed a heavy sigh, looking out the window at the sky wondering if they ever would come.
OOC: The merchant should be rather noticeable, given he wears bright crimson robes trimmed with gold.