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* Adam unlocks the door, then return to behind the bar. He pulls out an old towel and begins polishing the already shining surface. * Zoya stomps into the Hall and plops down at the bar, muttering irritably under her breath. As she sits down, she pulls the hood from her head to reveal her purple hair and the feminine features that conflict with her voice and height. * Grigoriy walks through the door, his recently polished armor shining much as it always does. He looks a little older, perhaps, than when last he strode in, but time has not tarnished his presence. * Adam blinks at Zoya for a moment, then remembers his manners. "Can I get you something to drink ma'am?" <Grigoriy> Good even, all! ::Grigoriy bellows:: Is good to be back! * Adam noticing Grigoriy's entrance, "What can I do for you today govenor?" <Zoya> I tell you, 'Dancer, I don't know WHY I try to talk to ken... ::belatedly noticing that the bartender is not Moon Dancer.:: Oh. Um...Yes. Vodka. In a mug. * Adam blinks both at Zoya's order and her voice, then remembers his manners again, "Coming right up." * Adam turns around and looks at the bewildering array of taps and bottles. * Grigoriy strides to the bar, his accoutrements clanking rather much. He taps his gauntleted fist on the counter. "A bottle of vodka, good man!" <Adam> Coming right up govenor. * Adam stares some more. * Grigoriy glances at Zoya, then stares, transfixed and amazed. * Zoya resumes talking to herself... * Adam finally turns to the mugs with a look of desperation, "Which one is it?" <Adam> ::One of the mugs obligingly waddles over and starts pointing at a bottle on one of the racks.:: <Zoya> Kender. Of all the leads to get, it had to be one of THEM. * Adam picks the bottle up and slowly sounds out the label, "R-IB-EL-AN Red. That's a kind of vodka?" <Grigoriy> ::laugh:: Da, is good vodka. Serve it to her! <Adam> ::The mugs nod with big grins on their faces.:: * Adam shrugs, picks the mug up and starts pour the contents of the bottle into the mug. <Grigoriy> Me, would rather have something a little, ah, clearer. <Adam> Wait a minute. Vodka's not supposed to be red! * Grigoriy laughs. * Adam glares at the mugs, one or two of which have laughed their way off the shelf. <Grigoriy> She won't notice! <Zoya> ::muttering under her breath:: NO I don't want to play with your stupid pet mouse... Just take me to the damn... * Adam looks at Zoya. "You're right, but it just wouldn't be polite." <Adam> ::Turning back on the mugs:: Now where is the vodka? ::His voice has become a bit louder and harsher.:: <Zoya> ...but NO, you have to go running off with that puppy... <Adam> ::The mugs still chuckling to themselves waddle over and point to a different bottle.:: * Adam again picks up the bottle. "We have customers waiting on there drinks and all you can think of is your silly little games. " <Grigoriy> ::laughs, pulling a flask from under his armor:: Is good to be back among the lively! ::he takes a swig before returning the flask to its home:: <Zoya> ...drinking games, with a DWARF of all people... * Tyl walks in, looking a bit distracted <Adam> ::One of the wine glasses slides over and points to a bottle on a different shelf.:: * Adam takes the bottle and reads the label, "Thank you Wine Glass." <Grigoriy> 'Keep! ::calling fairly loudly:: What be your name? Have not seen you behind bar before! * Adam places the bottle on the bar in front of Grigoriy, then grabs one of the more annoying mugs and starts gesturing towards the taps wildly with it. * Tyl sits down at the bar <Tyl> <Adam> Oh, sorry govenor, my name is Adam, and truth be told, Moon Dancer hired me off the streets this morning. * Tyl laughs. <Tyl> And here, I've been *looking* for work. <Adam> ::To Tyl:: What can I get for you this fine evening my lady? <Tyl> Rum, with ice, please <Zoya> ...climbing into the rafters... Hmm? What? Oh! 'Evening, Tyl... I'd be much better if I hadn't spent the better part of two days in the company of a kender... ::makes a face:: * Tyl reaches into her pack and pulls out a small flat bottle. <Tyl> I like kender * Adam turns back to the friendly wine glass, "Now which tap is the vodka?" <Tyl> mostly * Grigoriy glances at the bottle briefly. * Zoya gropes for a mug, realizes she doesn't have one yet, then shrugs. * Tyl opens the bottle slowly and a strange hissing noise comes out of the bottle * Philister wanders in the Hall, hoists himself onto a stool, and considers the new barkeep. <Adam> ::The wine glass obliging points to a tap, which produces a clear liquid into the mug, which Adam places before Zoya.:: <Tyl> ::fsssssssssst:: <Zoya> This one promised to take me to the tower, then spent two days doing absolutely nothing but! I lost her six times, had to rescue her from a half-orc once, and paid her bail for a "trifling matter"! * Tyl grins. <Tyl> Sounds exciting. * Grigoriy smiles, and uncorks the bottle. A quick swallow brings a beatific smile to his face. <Grigoriy> Mother's milk! * Adam turns to the wine glass, "Rum?" * Grigoriy takes note of the new arrivals. "Good even!" he bellows. * Tyl eyes the glass oddly, then shrugs. <Philister> ::scratches his beard thoughtfully, then addresses the barkeep:: Well met, stranger. Can you draw me a mug of the house meade? <Adam> ::The wine glass points out another tap, which produces a liquid that at least smells and looks right.:: <Zoya> And I *still* haven't laid one eye on that tower! * Zoya absently grabs her mug and takes a swig * Adam adds a few ice cubes to the glass and places it before Tyl. * Tyl pours some sort of brown frothy liquid on top of the rum. * Tyl takes a sip of the concoction and smiles <Tyl> Thanks! * Tyl lays a few small coins on the bar. <Zoya> Ahh... I needed that. * Zoya looks curiously at Tyl's drink. <Zoya> What's that? * Adam turns around suddenly noticing Philister. "Good evening, what can I get for you?" <Tyl> <grins> It's a cola. * Tyl hands her the small bottle <Tyl> Go ahead. Have a sip. * Adam grabs another mug and turns to the wine glass, "Meade?" * Zoya takes the bottle, sniffs at the opening gingerly, then takes a healthy swig. <Philister> A mug of the house meade, if you'd be so kind. And I believe there might just be a humidor beneath the bar that has some delicacies I might want to partake of... <Adam> ::The wine glass seems amused by the goings on, but points to another tap that appears to produce meade:: * Zoya starts coughing violently. After a few coughs, she recovers her breath, and then begins to hiccup. <Adam> Here you go, ::Places the mug before Philister.:: <Tyl> Sorry. It's a bubbled water with caramel flavoring. <Zoya> A most (hic) peculiar brew... <Zoya> (hic) <Adam> Humidor? <Tyl> A mage friend makes it for me. I developed a taste for it in Waterdeep, where I used to live. * Grigoriy claps Philister "gently" on the shoulder. "Have seen you before, da? You come here often. Drink up!" * Tyl eyes the blonde stranger. <Philister> A humidor. A small wooden box with cigars inside. ::his shoulder meets his hipbone has Grigoriy greets him:: yeah, I've been here before... <Zoya> It's (hic) very inter(hic)resting. You shoul(hic) warn people ab(hic)bout those bubbles, though... <Tyl> Sorry. Hold your breath for a count of five. That should clear it. * Adam bends down and starts rummaging under the bar. "Ah, here we are." <Zoya> (hic) * Zoya takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. * Adam comes back up with a cigar, "I'm afraid I don't have a light for you, unless you want me to bring a log from the kitchen stove? <Tyl> 1... 2... 5... no, I mean 3.... <Tyl> 4... 5 * Zoya lets her breath out with a sigh... (hic) <Zoya> That didn't work. * Tyl laughs. <Philister> ::waves Adam off:: I can handle the lighting of the sweet rarity. ::opens up the box and starts looking through it:: <Tyl> Sorry, M'lady Zoya... I don't know what else to offer you. It never has that effect on me. <Zoya> I'll try something else! ::she starts wiggling her fingers and muttering (hic) under her breath:: <Philister> ::wriggles his fingers a little and watches Zoya, grinning:: * Tyl turns to the tall blonde <Tyl> Good evening there. I don't think I know you... My name's Tyl... * Grigoriy enjoys the bottle, smiling as he drinks. * Adam starts polishing the mugs, and returning them to their proper places. <Zoya> <mutter mutter (hic!) mutter> ::a small cloud of bubbles burst out of her mouth with the hiccup. Startled, Zoya stops casting her spell and watches the bubbles:: <Zoya> Tyl? Is that supposed to happen? * Tyl stares at Zoya. <Tyl> Um, no. * Philister grins at no one in particular while sipping some meade. * Grigoriy eyes the curious elf, but his attention is distracted at the spectacle. <Zoya> (hic) ::another small cloud of bubbles appear and drift toward the ceiling:: <Grigoriy> ::mutters:: must be the red vodka... <Zoya> Well, I'm not very (hic)appy about it! ::bubbles continue to appear with every hiccup:: * Tyl makes a broad gesture of denial <Tyl> I didn't do anything. * Adam studies the bubbles for a moment, "Moon Dancer never said anything about doing ceilings." * Tyl takes a sip of her drink as proof. * Zoya looks at Tyl's drink. * Grigoriy laughs heartily, taking another swig from the bottle. <Zoya> The rum must counteract the bubbles! BARKEEP! Some rum, please! * Adam turns to the wine glass, who points to a tap, "I don't think this is the same one." * Adam hesitantly fills a glass from the indicated tap. It appears to be rum. <Philister> ::chuckles quietly and has some more meade:: <Tyl> Um, why does the wine goblet know where the drinks are? <Adam> It's worked here longer than I have. * Tyl laughs. * Zoya scoops the mug from Adam's hand and drains it. <Tyl> Really? I didn't know glassware worked. * Grigoriy turns back to Tyl, offering his hand (having been distracted from his introduction) "Am Grigoriy, a sometime visitor to these premises. <Tyl> It's a pleasure * Tyl touches his hand in a not-quite-casual manner <Adam> Well, what else do you think it does here? * Tyl turns back to Adam, rather exasperated. * Zoya coughs again, then glares at the mug. <Zoya> That wasn't... <Tyl> It's a glass. Most of the glassware I'm familiar with is stationary. <Philister> ::to Tyl:: Just don't ask about the flatware... <Tyl> I was just wondering *why* the glass is working... * Zoya lets loose with a HUGE belch. A two-foot long winged serpent flies out of her mouth, looks around in confusion, then ZIPS! up the chimney. <Tyl> I mean, it's not dreadfully unusual.. I've seen <stops in mid-sentence> Holy Mother of Mystra! <Philister> ::snarfs a bit of meade with a giggle:: * Zoya looks after the serpent in disbelief. She walks over to the chimney and stoops to look up the flue. * Adam blinks several times, then remembers his manners, "Are you all right ma'am?" * Grigoriy nearly drops his bottle, his hand reflexively reaching over his back. However, he recovers quickly enough. * Zoya pauses for a few moments, one hand at her throat. <Zoya> ::as the hiccups do not resume, she replies:: Yes, I believe so... <Grigoriy> Shining orb! That some strong drink! * Zoya eyes Tyl's bottle cautiously. <Tyl> My drink did *not* do that... I've heard about having a frog in one's throat before, but don't you think you take things a bit far, Zoya? <Zoya> That wasn't me! * Adam wipes his brow, obviously relieved that no one has died on his first night on the job. <Tyl> Well it wasn't that dratted ball. I seem to have gotten rid of the thing. * Grigoriy smiles at Tyl. "Swap a swig? If it that strong, would like to try it!" <Philister> ::quietly lights the cigar from a flame that pops out of his palm, and vanishes as he closes his hand:: * Grigoriy offers his bottle. * Tyl smiles and offers the bottle to Grig <Tyl> You're welcome to some. I'm not making any guarantees at this point. * Grigoriy takes a swig. * Tyl knocks back a quick shot of vodka. <Zoya> ::a small draconic head of cobalt blue appears from under Zoya's hood and chitters angrily at her. She sits down immediately and pulls a blue-and-silver faerie dragon from under her cloak and begins to stroke it soothingly, murmuring quietly to it. * Grigoriy immediately starts coughing. "Lux! That *cough* strange stuff!" He hiccups. * Philister snarfs some more meade as Grigoriy starts to hiccup. <Grigoriy> Much prefer mother's milk. Spasibo, but that will be enough for tonight! <Tyl> Oh great! <peers into her bottle> <Tyl> Spasibo? * Grigoriy smiles, glancing over Tyl. "Um, thank you." * Adam finishes polishing the miscreant mugs, and starts polishing the bar. * Zoya looks up and watches Grigoriy intently to see if he's going to start hiccuping bubbles, too. <Tyl> Oh. ::takes a sip out of the bottle:: Tastes fine to me. * Tyl does *not* hiccup <Philister> ::nonchalantly sips some meade and puffs on the cigar, blowing the smoke in lazy plumes toward the ceiling:: * Grigoriy takes a swig from his own bottle, absently noting that it's nearly half gone. * Tyl turns to Zoya <Tyl> I meant to thank you the other night, for walking me home. * Zoya 's faerie dragon seems to have been soothed, and is curled up around her neck, looking around sleepily. <Zoya> Oh, that was no trouble. You needed the help, eh? <Tyl> <grin> you should have seen my landlady. She was really quite incensed. We had a fine loud argument. I didn't leave home to find another mother. <Zoya> ::laugh:: Why was she upset? Did you cause a mess? * Tyl takes off her cloak and drapes it along the back of the chair - she is very obviously a grown woman <Tyl> She seems to think I'm much younger than I am. I hate to tell her that I'm nearly 3 times her own age. * Adam finishes polishing the bar and stares at the taps. * Zoya chuckles. * Grigoriy watches Tyl as she converses, smiling slightly behind his blonde mustache. He takes yet another swig. * Zoya gets a distracted look in her eyes, then turns to face the knight (or paladin, whatever he is) * Tyl makes a face * Adam sighs, then walks into the kitchen. <Zoya> Good sir! Are you familiar with this city? * Adam returns, sans towel, and carrying a bowl of pretzels. * Adam puts the bowl down near Philister, picks up a mug, and turns towards the mugs. <Adam> ::whispered under his breath:: Eeny, meany, miny, mo... * Adam finally settles on a tap and pours himself a beer, which seems to surprise him greatly. <Tyl> oh, um ... <snaps her fingers a few times> um ... Adam, sir... would it be too much trouble to get some bread and a bit of cheese and meat if you have some ready? <Grigoriy> Somewhat familiar. <Philister> ::puff puff sip sip:: * Adam puts the mug down. "Certainly" Heads back into the kitchen. * Tyl rubs her hands together. <Grigoriy> Have traveled through, but not made extensive study. <Tyl> Dinner... I've been out all day... * Zoya rummages through somewhat dilapidated pockets and extracts her sketch of the tower she's looking for. She shows it to Grigoriy. <Zoya> I don't suppose you've noticed this place before? * Adam returns with a small plate carrying a few slices of bread, cheese, meat, along with a clump of grapes and a pot of honey in his other hand, all of which he places before Tyl. * Grigoriy looks at the sketch for a moment, then shakes his head. "Nyet, is not a place I have seen." * Tyl grins at Adam <Tyl> My thanks good sir. * Adam returns the smile, "You're welcome m'lady. Let me know if you want anything else." * Grigoriy notes the tray, then smacks his forehead as if regretting his forgetfulness. And winces as he removes his gauntlets. "Food. That is what is missing." <Philister> ::has rocked the stool back on two legs, with his boots tucked under the lip of the bar. The mug of meade is perched on his belly, and the cigar clenched between his teeth. Truly, a content gnome:: <Zoya> ::with unconquerable enthusiasm, Zoya turns to Philister:: How about you? <Grigoriy> 'Keep! Do you have roast venison, or perhaps boar? <Philister> :;eyes still closed in gnomish bliss:: Hmmuh? * Tyl slides a grape slowly into her mouth, all the while eyeing Grig. Licks her fingers * Adam thinks for a moment, "We might, might take me a few minutes to get it warm again though." <Zoya> ::brandishing her sketch in Phil's face:: Have you, by chance, seen this place? <Philister> ::opens his eyes and sees the sketch:: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! ::falls backwards and tumbles into the chairs behind him. The cigar drops from his teeth, and the mug splashes to the floor (but naturally, does not break). He very slowly stands back up, his face several shades paler than it was before.:: <Philister> Uhh... never seen the place before. * Grigoriy grins widely at Tyl, and replies sidelong to Adam "Warm, cold, is no different. Need fuel to go with the milk." And takes a swig of his "milk". * Adam disappears into the kitchen again. * Zoya eyes Philister suspiciously. <Zoya> Are you *sure*? <Philister> ::tries to casually pick up the cigar, stool, and (now empty and irritable) mug:: * Tyl makes a bit of a sandwich and eats neatly. <Philister> Of course. Positive. Never been so sure of something in my life. never seen it before. Just startled me, that's all. Sure. * Grigoriy sets the gauntlets on the counter, sidling a little closer to Tyl as he does so. * Adam returns from the kitchen carrying a larger plate on which sits several slices of warm venison as well as a cold boar haunch. * Adam places the plate before Grigoriy. "There you go govenor." * Tyl looks curiously at Grig. <Tyl> Doesn't it get tiring, wearing so much steel? <Grigoriy> What is this "guv'nor" thing? ::pulls his knife belt and begins carving the venison:: <Adam> Sorry, old habit. <Philister> ::relights the cigar, his hand shaking slightly as he does so:: Um. . . barkeep, I seem to have spilled the contents. Another, please? * Adam turns to the wine glass who points to a tap, which produces a meade like substance. <Adam> Here you go. * Tyl dips some bread into the honey and takes a bite * Tyl licks a bit of honey off her chin. * Grigoriy smiles at the elf. "Is not tiring, have worn it since my youth." <Tyl> Well ::grin:: I suspect that wasn't all that long ago. * Tyl pulls up her sleeve to reveal an ornate gold band that covers her arm from wrist to elbow. "I prefer lighter ways of self-defense." * Zoya 's eyes narrow, and she watches Philister closely. But she backs off and sits by the fireplace, looking up the chimney every now and then to see if the winged serpent is coming back. * Grigoriy draws himself up. "Has been almost two decades since joined the order!" He cocks his head for a moment. "Excuse for moment." * Grigoriy leans towards Philister, muttering something. <Philister> ::still puffing on the cigar and occasionally testing the tightness of his boots:: * Tyl grins a bit <Tyl> I meant no offense, Lord. I am always impressed with how quick humans are. You learn so fast. Impressive. I spent over forty years learning my skills. <Philister> ::sips some of his new mug of meade, and starts to jump off the stool when it hits him:: *hic* * Grigoriy appreciatively eyes, uh, the gold band. Or something. * Adam helps himself to the pretzels. * Grigoriy smiles, "Trained at sword and orders for two years before first campaign." * Tyl smiles suggestively at Grigoriy. <Philister> *hic* * Zoya can't decide whether she'd rather watch Tyl and Grigoriy flirt, or Philister hiccup. Trying to watch both, she goes a bit cross-eyed. <Philister> Kezef's teeth! Of all *hic* the ridic*hic*ulous side ef*hic*fects.. ::slams the mug down on the counter:: <Tyl> I've been a bit of a study with the blade myself. Nothing very official, though. I was never much for following orders. Tend to do my own thing, you know. * Tyl gives Phil an odd look. * Zoya wonders idly whether Philister will begin to bubble... <Grigoriy> Wrong orders. Holy orders. <Adam> ::sheepishly:: Did I get the wrong drink again? <Tyl> You didn't even *have* any... ::to Phil:: * Tyl turns back to Grig <Tyl> You're a priest? <Philister> ::waves the mug around:: I *hic* know!! It's the *hic* damned glass*hic*ware! You've got to watch the *hic* cagey little things! You *hic* accidentally drop *hic* one of them, and they're all *hic* out to getcha! *hic* * Zoya murmurs softly and wiggles a couple of fingers. * Grigoriy deftly slices a hunk of venison and offers it to Tyl. "Priest is close enough. Holy warrior, more precise." * Tyl takes some of the venison and nibbles at it. <Tyl> Oh, a whatchacallit... a palindrome? That's not right. Paladin? * Adam looks imploringly at the wine glass who seems to have taken offense at Philister's comments. <Philister> Barkeep! Get me a mug of *hic* ::a lime purple bubble pops out of Phil's mouth and drifts away:: * Zoya smiles widely. <Adam> Rum, coming right up. ::Has a whispered conversation with the wine glass.:: <Grigoriy> Is adequate term. I prefer "follower of Lathander". <Adam> WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE DIDN'T SERVE HER RUM?!? <Tyl> I met a follower of Torm once. He wore the tackiest purple armor I ever saw. * Adam resumes whispering to the wine glass. * Zoya looks up at Adam's outburst. <Philister> *hic* ::a yellow fuschia monstrosity of a bubble begins to roam around the room:: <Philister> ::starts to hold his breath:: <Adam> Okay, I see, so which one is it. ::Fills a glass from the indicated tap and hands it to Philister.:: Sorry about that. * Zoya seems to be absorbed by the bubbles. <Philister> ::*hic*'s while holding his breath, and a scarlet blue bubble squeezes out of one ear and limps away toward the door:: * Tyl stares at Phil for a long moment. * Zoya giggles softly. <Philister> ::turns and shoots a querying look at the lone giggler:: * Grigoriy chuckles softly, looking off towards Philister for a few moments. <Zoya> What? You must admit, it is an amusing sight... <Grigoriy> Could wash it down with this! ::offers his 3/4 empty bottle:: <Zoya> ::she's all innocence:: <Tyl> Well, like I told that pesky fellow, it's never dull around here... <Philister> ::grabs the glass Adam offered and starts to pour it down his throat, hoping for the best:: <Philister> Ahhh... looks around for a moment, hopefully, and finishes with a resonating belch, accompanied by a minor blizzard of tiny orange and green bubbles:: * Adam watches Philister concernedly. * Grigoriy shrugs, sets the bottle on the counter and turns back to Tyl. He slices another chunk of venison and offers it to her. * Zoya lapses into laughter. * Tyl takes a bite of venison. <Philister> ::takes a few tentative breathes and glares at Zoya:: Hmph! <Tyl> Oh, it's cold... <makes a few gestures and the meat immediately begins sizzling> ah, there we go. * Zoya waves a hand, and the remaining bubbles turn into similarly-colored butterflies, which fly out of the door. * Grigoriy starts slightly, then grins. "Must be easy to stay warm!" <Zoya> Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. You have to admit, it WAS funny... Besides, I'm not the one who gave you the hiccups. That was the wineglass. * Tyl looks at him with wide eyes <Tyl> I wouldn't want to do *that* to myself. I've been known to use it as a weapon. Boils ones blood, you know. <Zoya> [laying it on a bit thick, aren't you, Tyl?] * Tyl blinks a bit * Grigoriy laughs. "Not know milder version?" Despite the mostly empty bottle, his speech is as clear as ever. <Tyl> But it works well for bath water in the winter... <Philister> ::stomps over to Zoya and glares up at her.:: Okay. Look. I've seen it. Once. And I *don't* really want to see it again. I can tell you where it *used* to be, several years ago, but that's no guarantee that it's even within miles of that area. <Tyl> [I knew he was lying... ] * Zoya blinks a few times at the abrupt change of topic. <Zoya> Anything is better than trying to get directions from a kender. <Grigoriy> [So did I, so there :-) ] <Philister> [gee, how could you tell...] <Adam> [What's it? :) ] <Philister> ::stomps back over to the bar:: Barkeep! Do you have any parchment or something I can have a sheet of? A quill and ink would be handy,too, if you've got it. <Zoya> I've got paper and a charcoal pencil. <Tyl> Well, I guess she might get to go to the tower of the Kender God after all... <quietly to Grig> <Philister> ::waves off Adam:: nevermind. ::wanders back to Zoya:: * Adam rummages under the bar and pulls up a pad of paper and a well worn pencil. "Here you...Oh." Returns the items to where he found them. * Zoya rummages around in dilapidated pockets and pulls out the required items. <Grigoriy> Kender God? Have not heard of god of kender. ::smiles, continuing an earlier topic:: Warm baths good, da. <Tyl> I like them, ::smiles:: * Adam drinks some beer. <Philister> ::begins to sketch a rough map of the Marsember and the surrounding area:: * Grigoriy grins. "Da. Can be, ah, comforting." <Zoya> [oh, for pete's sake...] <Tyl> [oh hush!] * Zoya watches intently as Philister draws. <Zoya> Ah, I think I know this area... The tower is not there any more. But there might be clues... <Philister> ::the borders of the city take shape, and some miles outside of the city, he draws a vague blob area with an 'X' in the middle:: That's where it was . . . um . . . 3 years ago or so. <Tyl> Actually ::leaning into Grig a bit:: I didn't know there was a Kender God either. I'm not sure he is their god in specific, but she said that he gave her a special gift. <Tyl> Gods only usually do that to their followers, I think. <Philister> The terrain was distinct enough you should be able to spot it with out too much trouble. * Zoya appears to be concentrating very hard on the map. <Zoya> Yes, of course... ::she looks from the map to Philister:: Thank you, by the way. I didn't even catch your name. <Philister> Philister Pharen. Most everybody calls me Phil. <Zoya> Zoya. Zoya Natovna. <Grigoriy> Really. Very odd. ::strokes mustache for a moment, then settles his hand gently on Tyl's shoulder:: Some gods are flighty and might do things for non-followers. * Adam finishes off his beer and sends it to the back with the bowl of pretzels balanced on its head. * Zoya picks up the map when Phil is done and start studying it closely and muttering to herself. <Tyl> This God would probably count as flighty, if he made that damn ball. ::grins up at Grig:: I've never been too curious about Gods, mostly. I had a close friend who was a priest, though. * Grigoriy pushes the bottle, now almost forgotten, across the counter towards Adam. <Zoya> ...got to leave some sort of trace... * Adam picks up the bottle, contemplates its lack of contents, studies Grigoriy for a moment, shrugs, and finishes the bottle off himself. <Philister> ::snorts:: Trace?! More like a blast radius... * Tyl sniggers. <Zoya> ...seventh-sphere detection...pull the threads... * Adam starts wiping the bar down again. <Philister> ::carefully backs away from the muttering Zoya, heading back towards the bar:: <Zoya> ...twist the second layer of reality toward the first, then... * Tyl looks up at Grigoriy * Adam glances worriedly at Zoya. <Tyl> <Philister> Barkeep? If I could get just a small snifter of Sembian brandy, I think I'd be done for the night. * Grigoriy smiles down at Tyl. "A small village far to the north and east of here. * Zoya gets up, still muttering and still staring at the map. She absently picks up the forgotten mug of vodka and drains it in a few gulps before heading toward the door, still muttering. She bumps into the door frame on her way out, and you can hear the irritated chittering of her pet as the door swings closed behind her... <Tyl> ::shrug:: I've probably not been there before. I spent a great deal of time in Waterdeep. But a disagreement with some people from Zhentil Keep convinced me that a change of scenery might be healthier. * Adam turns the wine glass, who points to a smaller tap, which produces a brandy like substance. "Please be the right drink." * Tyl calls out <Tyl> GOODNIGHT ZOYA! * Adam hands the snifter over the Philister. * Grigoriy nods at Tyl, oblivious to Zoya's departure. <Tyl> Anyway, as it seems to be winding down, would you care to walk me back to my flat? * Grigoriy grins, "Certainly. Would be glad to assist." <Philister> ::slowly starts to drink the brandy, but the snifter flies from his hand as a colossal sneeze tears through him:: AH-CHOO! GODS DAMMIT! * Tyl turns to Philister <Tyl> I hope you recover from your indisposition. * Tyl leaves a few coins on the bar. <Tyl> shall we? * Adam manages to catch the snifter. "I'm sorry, let me try again." * Grigoriy drops a few coins on the counter, then offers his arm. "Da." * Adam gives the wine glass a hard look, and picks a tap at random. Unfortunately it produces orange juice. * Tyl takes Grig's arm and stands up <Tyl> <Adam> Good night. Come again. <Philister> ::sneezes violently again and half-leaps, half-falls off the stool:: It's not an AH-CHOO!! indisposition! It's the damned *AH-CHOO* glassware! I swear, one day I'll *AH-CHOO*!! ::blearily makes his way out the door, waving off Adam's commentary:: Never *AH-CHOO*! mind. I'll get over *AH-CHOO*! it eventually. <Grigoriy> Dos vidanye, 'Keep! ::gathers his accoutrements in his off hand, and heads to the door with Tyl:: *Philister walks out of the Hall, still sneezing. *Adam finishes cleaning up the bar, turns down the lamps, and exits, locking the door behind him. |
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