Bar Vespers

In a back alley where the city's clamor cannot reach.

At the end of a wet cobblestone path, the shop stands.

A small brass plate on the wall is engraved with the modest letters "Bar Vespers." Even in this vast city, very few know the name, which signifies the "Evening Stars" or the "Evening Bell."

You place your hand on the heavy oak doorknob and turn it slowly.

Instead of a cowbell, a small, lovely brass bell makes a clear "tinkle" sound.

The moment you step through the door, the cold night air is shut out, and the warm scent of wood and a faint aroma of citrus peel tickle your nose.

There are only a few seats at the counter. Amber indirect lighting beautifully highlights the bottles on the back bar amidst the quiet darkness.

A low, yet somewhat otherworldly, calm, and pleasant voice.

He is the "Master" of this shop.

Though he once spread noble wings in the Heavens, he apparently grew weary of the justice of Light and fell to Earth of his own accord... a former Angel.

Now, having erased those traces (or perhaps not entirely), he protects this small castle as a mere shopkeeper.

Here, it doesn't matter if a customer is an angel or a demon. Strangers sit side by side, simply enjoying a single glass of liquor.

It is a place where the heavy missions they carry or the secrets they cannot tell are quietly dissolved into the night...

We cannot solve their problems. It is an untouchable rule that we do not perform miracles like a god, nor grant wishes like a demon.

We simply listen quietly to their voices as they tilt their glasses, offering a few words of insight and the finest drink they desire.