Robert ran a seedy alehouse in medieval times, but today is his last day as he retires the alehouse. Write about his last day from start to finish
Robert sighed as he rubbed down the counter at his alehouse. The walls were in worse shape than ever, the floors creaked awfully, and the ale never got any better, but it was his alehouse - and nobody had ever managed to take that away from him. Today was his final day, and instead of a big celebration, all he wanted to do was to run it like any other day, for one last time. His usual pair of thin, cloaked patrons came in first thing in the morning, dropped enough coin for a pair of mugs of ale, and took their mugs to the corner of the alehouse, as they once more muttered quietly between themselves. Then Matthew walked in, but his face was forlorn, and his eyes were bloodshot as if he had been crying. 

"Say it ain't so!" exclaimed Matthew, who firmly grasped Robert with both hands. Robert, who was used to Matthew's overly-familiar reactions, let him know that this would be the final day for the alehouse. He had grown much older, and the alehouse was now in terrible condition and would soon end up unsafe for patronage. So he was selling the land to a wealthy baron, who would do whatever he wanted with it. Matthew, who had also grown older with many new scars in the years he'd been coming, started bawling loudly at the counter, so Robert sympathetically left a mug of ale for him.

"This one's on the house," Robert said, touched that anyone would care so much for this old place, even if it was Matthew. "Though I'll be having you pay back the rest of your tab."

Slapping himself, Matthew wiped away his tears, pulled himself together, and gave Robert a big, cheeky smile. He assured him that he'd see every penny, as he was being paid today from his latest mercenary job. Robert smiled briefly at him, confident that he was true to his word, and started cleaning mugs once more. Evening came, and as the last customers left and he finished up what he needed to do, he locked the door from the outside and looked at the old building. He'd miss the weathered walls, and the noisy floorboards, but from this point on, it was no longer his alehouse. But maybe, this was his time for something new.