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* Tilman walks out of the kitchen, broom in his hand, and walks over to the bar. He passes the door to Moon Dancer's office - boarded up and nailed to the cracked frame - and begins to sweep up the broken glass and bottles behind the bar. He gets the mess into a neat pile, then sweeps that into a dustpan. Tilman looks up at the front (side) door, and sighs to himself. "Guess I better let 'em in. It's inevitible." Tilman walks to the front door, passing the fireplace as he makes his way there. He rubs his hands across the gouges in the wall, and then unlocks the door. "Hall's open, for what it's worth." Tilman walks back behind the bar, leaning the broom against the far edge of the bar. * Bai walks in, his boots still carrying dust from the trail. He approaches the bar, but halfway there stops and turns towards the fireplace. * Tilman sits on the floor behind the bar, and begins inspecting the pipes for damage. <Bai> Tilman, do you know where Moon Dancer is? * S'ayad'i comes in through the frontside door, wearing a sea-green gown that matches her eyes quite well. Her dulcimer, panpipes, and most surprisingly, Eldarin are not in evidence. She is smiling and humming softly under her breath. * Tilman hums to himself while looking under the bar. Upon hearing Bai's voice, he quickly starts, and bumps his head against the underside of the bar. He pulls himself up, rubbing his head. <Tilman> ::to Bai:: Moon Dancer? I can't say that I do. I'm suspecting he's after whoever did all _this_. ::makes a sweeping motion with his arms, taking in the damage:: * S'ayad'i stops and stares at the mess. <S'ayad'i> Good heavens. What happened? * Bai nods slightly, then turns to S'aya'di and bows deeply in his best Jaret impression, "So why have you out shown yourself this fine evening?" <Tilman> ::looks at Bai as he opens a large, lined box behind the bar:: Can I get you something? ::clouds of 'smoke' rise out of the box as Tilman opens it, billowing around the tubes that feed it:: * Philister stumbles in through the front door. He is carrying a turkey leg in one hand, and it seems quite monstrous in size compared to the little gnome. A few greasy tidbits dot the beard around his mouth and the front of his shirt. He makes his way straight to the bar. "Can I have a plate?" <Bai> Water will be fine. <Tilman> ::to S'ay:: I don't know, to be honest. I came in, and the place looked like a band of trolls had a party here. * S'ayad'i nods to Bai's bow. * Bai walks over to the fireplace and begins to inspect the gouges in the wall. <Tilman> ::to Bai:: Aye, water it is. ::pulls a mug out of the smoking box, which is shivering and covered with frost. He fills the mug with water, and hands it to Bai:: <S'ayad'i> Felis promised to take me dancing as soon as he's off work. <S'ayad'i> [That was a response to Bai's question...] <Tilman> ::looks at Phil:: Aye, a plate. Would you like anything on it? <Bai> Ah. Unfortunate that the best bard in Marsember will be unable to provide the music as she'll be gracing the floor instead. <Philister> ::gnaws a few more bits of meat off the leg:: No, thanks. Just want somewhere ta put the bones. * Bai returns to the bar, picks up his mug and drinks deeply from it. <Tilman> ::grins, and nods to Phil:: One moment, if I may... ::walks back into the kitchen:: * S'ayad'i inspects a barstool for debris, sweeps it off delicately just to be safe, and sits. <Bai> Tilman, I don't suppose you know which tap the Mist of the Peaks comes from. I've had a rather long day on the road, and I suspect I'm going to have a long evening as well. <Tilman> ::walks back out from the kitchen, plate in hand. He hands it to Phil:: Here you are, Milord Pharen. <Tilman> ::to Bai:: Mist of the Peaks? The green stuff? * S'ayad'i waits for Tilman to finish with the others... <Bai> Well, one of the green things. It bubbles. <Philister> ::patooies a bone sliver on the plate:: Just Philister. Definitely not milord, sir, your grace, or anything of the like. ::grins and holds the leg out to Tilman:: Want some? <Tilman> ::nods:: Aye, that's the one. Want a mug of it? ::he looks at Bai, hand on the large, multi-tubed box behind the bar:: * Bai rests his staff against the wall, then selects a stool where he can lean against the wall and study the fireplace. <Bai> Yes please. <Tilman> ::looks at Phil's meal, and shakes his head:: Thank you, but no. I'm working, you see... <Tilman> ::opens the box and pulls out another shivering mug, which he fills with Mist. He hands the mug to Bai:: To go with the water... <Philister> ::shrugs and starts gnawing on the turkey leg again:: <Tilman> ::looks at S'ay:: Can I get you anything, milady? <Bai> S'aya'di, look. ::Bai points towards the mantle.:: <S'ayad'i> A glass of wine would be nice... Sembian white, if you have any. <Tilman> ::to S'ay:: I think we just might... * S'ayad'i turns to follow Bai's pointing finger, then gasps softly. <S'ayad'i> Oh, dear, oh dear... <Bai> The water's to wash the dust from my throat. The Mist is to fortify me for what's coming up. * Tilman scans the bottles along the back wall, and not seeing what he was looking for, looks underneath the bar. He stops halfway across, and makes a "Tsk" sound:: <Bai> Exactly. <Bai> [To S'ay] * S'ayad'i slides off the barstool and approaches the mantle. She reaches out with one hand to touch the bare place on the wall. <Philister> ::follows S'ayad'i's gaze:: Oh, bloody hell. <Tilman> ::to S'ay:: Seems the white was used to wash the floor, Milady. What would be your second choice? <Bai> Don't suppose you or Felis know where Moon Dancer is? <Tilman> ::looking at the wall:: Not sure what made that, though whatever it was probably took off with those swords that used to hang there... <Tilman> ::to Bai:: I haven't seen Moon Dancer for days, and last I saw Captain Strongarm, he was asking me to stop making so much noise - was botherin' the neighbors, or some such. <S'ayad'i> I haven't seen Felis for all of today, and I haven't seen 'Dancer for, oh, *weeks* <Bai> Tilman, any idea how long ago this happened? I just got back in town tonight. * Cean walks down the stairs into the common room. He is a tall man, topping six feet, dressed in a loose tunic, tucked, a little sloppily, into a pair of soft leather breeches. His hair is long and tied into a loose pony tail that flows down his back, almost to his waist. He also wears a long, slightly unkempt, white beard. <Cean> Thought I heard someone down here. ::mumbled:: * Cean walks over to the bar, rubbing sleep out of one eye, and perches on a stool. <Tilman> ::looks at Bai with a nearly blank stare:: How long ago? Well, I first got in here two nights ago, and it was a total wreck. Fixed the door, and did other things. Must've been before then... <Cean> Coffee? ::looks inquiringly at Tilman:: <Tilman> ::looks a Cean:: Well met. Coffee it is. ::reaches behind him, and gets a cup and saucer, which he places in front of Cean. He then walks back to the kitchen:: <Cean> Sugar? ::slight, still drowsy, smile:: <Tilman> ::walks back in from the kitchen with a pot in his hands, which he uses to fill Cean's cup:: * S'ayad'i frowns and turns toward the bar, her jaw dropping. <Tilman> ::reaches under the bar, and brings up a bowl with sugar cubes:: <Tilman> ::smiles at Cean:: Anything else? <S'ayad'i> Sealgair! <Cean> Ahhh, much thanks, my friend. ::scoops up a couple of cubes and drops them into the cup:: <Tilman> ::looks at S'ay, surprised:: Who?!? <Philister> ::Philister's turkey leg dips precariously close to the plate as he sees Cean. After a moment, he swallows hard and speaks up, holding the half-eaten turkey leg out:: Breakfast? * Cean turns to Say, his expression blank. <Cean> Something like it. ::aside to Phil:: * S'ayad'i crosses back to the bar, happy astonishment fading to confusion as she realizes he doesn't recognize her. * Cean looks back out his coffee a second and a spoon materializes in the cup. He stirs absently as he looks at Say. <Cean> Yes? Do I know you? <S'ayad'i> ::frowning, S'ay pulls herself onto a stool near Cean's.:: You don't know me at all? * Cean tugs at a couple of stray white hairs that have escape the thong helding back his pony tail. He then methodically loosens the thong and re-does the pony tail. He shrugs. <Cean> Can't say I do--should I? <S'ayad'i> I... ::at a loss for words:: You *are* Cean Sealgair, aren't you? <Cean> set the spoon on the saucer and lifts the cyp of coffee. He blows gently, steam rising from the dark surface. He takes a tentative sip. <Cean> [damn action button...] <Cean> [damn spelling] * Tilman looks at the confused S'ayad'i, and shrugs. He then looks at Cean, squinting his eyes as if trying to match a mental picture... <Cean> Aye, I'm Cean...::pauses, appears a muddle muddle:: Yes, I'm Cean. ::sips his coffee, dropping his gaze to stare into the cup, his expression still a little confused:: * Tilman begins wiping on the bar, removing some dust on the end nearest 'Dancer's office... <S'ayad'i> ::carefully:: Are you aware of... things missing from your memory, perhaps? <Cean> Still a little hot. ::sets the cup back on the saucer and a cool breeze springs up, seemingly from nowhere and blows across the abr and his cup:: * S'ayad'i shivers slightly, though whether from the breeze or her own disturbing thoughts it is impossible to tell. * Philister nibbles on his mostly-forgotten about turkey leg, studiously listening to S'ayad'i's conversation. <Cean> Missing? From my memory? No, not that I'm aware of. ::brow furrows in concentration:: I remember a promise I made. And someone asking me to fulfill that promise. ::pause, then smile:: And now I'm here. <S'ayad'i> Do you happen to remember what the promise was? <Cean> Let me see, that's an easy one. ::picks up his coffee and sips:: Yes, it was, uh, iffen someone need my help, I would always be there to give it. Yeah, that's it. Mostly, I think. ::sets his coffee back on the saucer:: * Bai looks at S'ayad'i, "I'ld love to be able to talk to Brighteyes or Lhynnae right now." * S'ayad'i nods in response to Bai's comment. "Lynn would be helpful." * Bai finishes his water. * Tilman looks at S'ayad'i. "Sealgair? Lhynnae? 'Dancer mentioned them to me, once. Who're they, anyway?" <Cean> cringes slightly at the utterance of Lhynnae's name, almost imperceptibly. <Tilman> ::Bai's mug, now empty, sticks close to Bai, unwilling to head back to Tilman and the box:: <S'ayad'i> ::turning to Tilman, and answering quietly:: Sealgair was - is, maybe ::a quick glance at Cean:: the original owner of this tavern. Lhynnae was his daughter. <Tilman> ::blinks at S'ayad'i for a few moments:: <Bai> Dammit, this is no good. Who else would be able to help? * Cean clears his throat and looks around, apparently in discomfort. The he remembers his coffee, smiles, and takes another sip. * Tilman blinks at S'ayad'i again. * S'ayad'i shrugs helplessly at Tilman. <Tilman> ::to S'ayad'i:: Well, I know _that_. Why mention him now? He's dead. <Philister> ::speaks up:: There's Lisl, but last I heard she went off and got married to that Jean Pierre fella. <Tilman> ::to Phil:: Isn't Lisl that other shapeshifter? <Bai> That was the last any of us heard of her. I don't think even Lini's heard from her since. <S'ayad'i> They've both been gone so long we assumed they were both dead. But *that* ::nods toward Cean:: is the spitting image of Cean Sealgair. <Tilman> ::looks at Bai, head starting to spin:: <Cean> Yes, that's me, Cean...::trails off, the remembers he has a coffee mug in his hand and takes another sip:: <Philister> ::assumes a *very* surprised expression:: Sir! Why, that's the most preposterous thing I've ever heard. No, really. Ever. ::mumbles to himself:: Perfect. Couldn't possibly be mistaken for a yes... <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, _stares_ at Cean for a few moments, then extends his hand:: Well met, sir. Seems everyone knows you but me. * Cean shakes Tilman's proffered hand with a smile. <Cean> At least someone is kind enough to introduce themselves...::winks:: <Tilman> ::grins as he shakes Cean's hand:: Tilman Tilmarik. Part time barkeep, full-time repairman, it seems... <S'ayad'i> ::to herself:: I wonder if the swords gone missing have something to do with it? * Bai groans and leans his head back against the wall, studying the ceiling, "Please Mirgianne, tell me there's another way." <Tilman> ::looks at S'ay:: Think those swords... ::looks at Cean:: You don't think that, do you? <Philister> ::puts the turkey leg down on the plate:: Lessee, there's Iworo, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of him in years either. Marik Khathim, but how you'd get ahold of him is beyond me, Drach might know, but he's probably off on a field trip... hmmm..... <Cean> Barkeep, eh? I think I did that once. ::finishes his coffee:: Or was that a bee keeper? ::fades slightly:: * Bai snaps back to attention at S'ay's comment, "That's a very interesting thought actually." <Tilman> ::grins at Cean:: Well, if you are who they say you are, you did more than keep bar... <Cean> Am I who they say I am? ::his gaze is suddenly very intense, disturbingly so, and directed straight at Tilman:: <S'ayad'i> ::shakes her head and offers her hand to Cean:: Terribly sorry. You... You look exactly like an old friend. I am S'ayad'i, master-class bard. <S'ayad'i> [Well, OK, delay my last statement until a more appropriate time...] <Tilman> ::shrugs:: Got me. I was hoping you'd know. * Cean shrugs and visibly relaxes. <Cean> Yes, well, that's what I thought. Now then. ::slaps his palms on the counter top and stands:: Let me see what there is to see. <S'ayad'i> [feel free to insert my introduction here.] <Tilman> [Insert S'ay's intro!] * Cean nods absently at Say. <Cean> Yes, yes. ::has turned to stare at the mantle over the fireplace:: * Bai watches Cean. * Tilman starts to qhistle quietly as he sits on the floor again:: * S'ayad'i withdraws her untouched hand with a slight hurt look, but seems to recover quickly. She frowns slightly at her own thoughts. * Cean walks over to the fireplace and places a hand on the gashes in the stone. He starts to look mildly pained. He runs his hand over the gouges again and the slowly start to fill in, as if te stone were flowing, or healing in time lapse. His expression clears. * Tilman begins to tinker with things underneath the bar, alternatively whistling and humming as he works. <Bai> That settles that. Now what do we do about it? <S'ayad'i> ::softly, to Bai:: We don't do anything for now. Whatever is wrong with him... I don't think it's anything we can fix by ourselves. <Bai> ::mumbles back to S'ay:: I was afraid someone was going to say that. * Cean turns and walks over to the damaged and hastily repaired office door. Squats for a minute, placing his hands on either side of the frame. Stands slowly, tracing the jamb up to the top, the bring his hands together along the lintel. The door shimmers, then flows, like liquid. * Tilman gets back up from the floor, looking at the tools on his belt as if searching for something. <Cean> ::After a few moments, the door is whole again, all traces of the destruction are gone, as is the hasty fix job.:: * Tilman looks at Cean and the door, and stops. He just stares. * Tilman motions Cean closer to him and the bar. <Philister> [that sound you just heard? twas a clue falling on Tilman's head...] * Cean turns and surveys the rest of the common room, hands on his hips. <S'ayad'i> ::raises her eyebrows at Bai:: Unless your goddess owes you some special favors? My credit with Milil is about used up, and I'd rather not lose my voice for good this time unless it's absolutely the *only* way... <Cean> walks over to Tilman. Raises an fine, elfin eyebrow. <Cean> Yes? <Bai> I've been living on credit for nearly a decade now. I've got an alternative, but I'm not sure if it isn't worse than the situation as is. * Cean leans down to examine the work Tilman has been doing and frowns. <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, a little dumbfounded:: How did you... what did you... ::looks behind the bar:: Want to get this while you're at it? * Cean places his hands on the bar and bows his head. After a few seconds, reality seems to ripple, setting everyone's middle ear into hysterics. The wave of vertigo passes and the bar, and its workings, are now intact, completely. * Tilman starts to open and close his mouth, trying to equalize the pressure, as he looks around him. He whistles softly in approval, and picks up a bottle. <Tilman> ::to S'ayad'i:: We have the Sembian white now, if you still want a glass... * Cean sits on a stool, hard, sweating starting to drip down his brow. He raises his hand and a cloth appears in it. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and leans heavily on the bar. <Philister> ::leans over and whispers to Tilman:: <Cean> The rest will have to wait. ::brightens slight and lowers the cloth from his face. The cloth disappears:: <Tilman> ::nods to Phil, and picks up a snifter. He fills it with Sembian brandy, and hands it to Cean:: On a suggestion, my good sir... * Cean leans back on his stool and stretches, popping a few vertebrae. He seems somehwo more, focused, now. * S'ayad'i nods slightly at Tilman. "Yes, I'll... I'll have that glass of wine now.: <Cean> Oh! Yes, ::takes the Sembian:: thank you. ::raises the glass and takes a tentative sip:: Mm, thank you indeed. ::takes a longer sip then sets the snifter down:: Just the thing. * Tilman nods, and pours a glass of wine, which he hands to S'ayad'i. "I thought you might change your mind..." <Tilman> ::looks at Phil, curiously:: <Philister> ::gnaws on the turkey leg and raises a fuzzy eyebrow at Tilman:: Whu? * Bai takes a long pull from his Mist of the Peaks. "Tilman, I think I'm going to need some dwarven spirits soon." <Tilman> ::shakes his head:: Nothing. Just... a little impressed at your deductive skills, Milord Pha... Philister. <Cean> finishes the snifter of Sembian. <Philister> Lucky guess, that's all. :;grins:: * S'ayad'i takes the glass of wine and carries it with her back to the mantle. After a sidelong look at Cean, she traces with one finger lightly over the wall where Sealgair's swords used to hang. A very faint glimmer appears, then fades again as her arm drops back to her side. She sighs and sips her wine. <Tilman> ::nods to Bai:: Coming right up. ::opens the tube-covered box and pulls out another, nearly frozen mug, which he fills with dwarven spirits and hands to Bai:: <Cean> Tapadh leibh, broghean. <Tilman> ::to Cean:: Bless you. * Cean laughs. * Bai takes another pull of his Mist. <Cean> No, thank you, barkeep. Tapadh leibh, gu dearbh. :his accent is thickening, slowly:: <Philister> ::to Tilman:: Barkeep, a mug of the house meade, if you would, please. <Tilman> ::blinks at Cean, and just shakes his head:: Was I supposed to understand that? <Tilman> ::looking at Phil:: A frosty mug of the house, coming right up! <Cean> Nae, you weren't. It's just an expression, m'chara, my friend. <Tilman> ::opens the icebox and gets a grumpy but frozen mug,a nd fills it with meade. He places the shivering mug in front of Phil:: <Philister> ::drinks some meade:: <Tilman> ::to Cean:: Ah, good, 'cause I didn't understand a single word. <S'ayad'i> ::idly, to Til:: Why are you torturing the poor mugs? <Cean> laughs again. <Tilman> ::looks at S'ay, confused:: Torturing the poor...? What, the Coolerator? <Philister> ::tries to put the mug down:: Um, Tilman? Design flaw. ::Phils hand is frozen onto the uber-frosty mug. Neither Phil nor the mug seem too pleased with the development:: <S'ayad'i> The Coo- The what? ::walks over to the bar:: Pull another mug out for me. Empty, just a quick check of something... <Tilman> ::looks at Phil's hand while he gets another, even colder mug:: Oh. Dear. ::places the mug on the bar, and his hand, too, is stuck to the mug:: * Cean waves his hand absently at Phil's frosty predicament and the mug starts to warm, noticeably. * Tilman shakes his hand, much to the dismay of the extremely cold mug. "Wonder why that happened?" <Philister> ::removes his hand from the mug:: Thanks. <Cean> Ach, worse'n damnable tinker gnomes. * Cean touches Tilamn's mug and it thaws instantly. * S'ayad'i whispers a quick cantrip to warm the mug stuck to Tilman's hand. She reaches over and removes it gently. <S'ayad'i> [whups.] * Bai finishes off his Mist and starts in on the dwarven spirits, "It's going to be one of THOSE nights." <Cean> [great minds] <Tilman> ::blinks at Cean, again, and smiles as he places the mug on the bar:: Thanks. Again. <S'ayad'i> [not to mention ours] <Cean> [rofl] <S'ayad'i> ::cradles the mug:: You'll be fine. It can't have been *that* bad, can it? ::the mug gestures furiously at her:: <S'ayad'i> ::looks up at Tilman:: Maybe you'd better turn that contraption off, eh? <Bai> [lol] <Cean> How many more ofthose have ye got in there, barkeep? <Philister> ::sips some de-iced meade:: <Tilman> ::reaches down and pulls a tube off of the side of the box, which begins to pour out a cold, think cloud of air. He pulls a metal band from the back of his hat, and seals off the end of the tube. He then places the tube on the floor and opens the top of the Coolerator:: <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, counting on his fingers:: Lesse... One, two, three, four... That leaves... twenty? <Cean> Dear me, what a daft thing tah be doin'. Did ye not ken they'd freeze? Would ye sooner place a litter of kittens in the blessed thing? * Bai coughs in surprise. "Maybe you should get some tongs from the kitchen and rescue them." <Tilman> ::looks down inside the makeshift refrigerator, and then sticks his head inside:: What ever made that happen? <Cean> Well, let's ee--what've ye got that hose conencted up tah? <Tilman> ::with his head inside the Coolerator, he sounds like he's in a ... box:: Kittens? Why would you want a cold kitten? <Cean> places a hand on Tilman's shoulder and pulls him out. <Cean> Nah, I was jus' askin'--would ye put a litter o' kittens in that thing? <Tilman> ::looks back at Cean in surprise:: What'd you do that for? <Cean> Well, then why would ye put a score o' mugs in there?? <Tilman> ::blinks at Cean:: No. Why, do you think I should? <Cean> clucks his tongue. <S'ayad'i> ::trying a different tack:: In case you hadn't noticed, Tilman, the mugs here are sentient. Well, sapient, at least. <Tilman> To keep them cold, which'd help keep the _beer_ cold. Do I hafta explain everything? <Cean> walks around behind the bar and squats down next to the fridge. He picks up the tube and looks at Tilman. <Tilman> ::to S'ay:: Aye, they're animated. But, so're my wind-up toys. What'cher point? <Cean> Comes cold out of the tap, man, why would ye want to cool it further? <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, and blinks:: <S'ayad'i> No, I mean they're *really* sentient. More so than kittens, really. <Cean> Nae animated, barkeep, so much as alive. ::weighs the tube in his hand then starts to follow it, back to wherever it is connected:: <Philister> :;watches everything with interest:: <Tilman> ::blinks at Cean again:: Why would I want to... because I _can_. <S'ayad'i> ::muttering to herself:: That's much more like his old self... * Bai downs some of his dwarvern spirits. <Bai> [At this point Bai figures Yb' going to have to go on a rampage just to round the night out.] <Cean> Ah, ::still following the tube:: Jus' cause ye can do a thing doesnah mean it should be done. ::finds the source, one of the bar taps, off to the side:: <S'ayad'i> [runs screaming] <S'ayad'i> [from Yb, that is.] <Tilman> ::blinks at Cean:: Besides, Moon Dancer said I could make any improvements I saw fit. This was just one. If you're this Sealgair fellow, then, well... well... well, then maybe you can say something. <Cean> snaps the rubber band holding the tap open and disconnects the tube. A small cloud of mist leaks out the tube, then dissipates. <Tilman> ::continuing to Cean:: Otherwise, I don't think Moon Dancer'd much appreciate yer meddling. Even though you did do a nice job on the door. And hearth... <Cean> Improvements? ::snorts:: <Tilman> ::defensively:: Aye. Improvements. <Bai> Tilman, let it go. <Cean> Do ye ken what this tap is? ::points at the tap to which Tilman had his fridge connected:: <Tilman> ::to Bai:: The place was in terrible shape when Moon Dancer hired me! <Cean> Let me show ye somethin'. ::holds up his hand and an apple appears in the palm:: <Tilman> ::turning back to Cean, still defensive until he sees the pipe:: Ah... something good and cold. * Bai shakes his head and mutters something about hair brained fools who can't remember the spells they've been taught. * Cean moves his hand under the tap, the pulls the tap lever. A trickle of clear fluid leaks out and a lot of cold mist. The apple starts to crinkle, although his hand appears unaffected. * Tilman nods, smiling. "Aye. That's the one I wanted." <Cean> holds the apple up between two fingers. It is shriveled and looks hard and brittle, definitely more than frozen. <Cean> This one, then? ::drops the apple and it shatters. like fine crystal:: <Tilman> ::looks at the apple, a little embarassed:: Aye, but that's why I put this filter on the Coolerator. To diffuse the cold... ::points plaintively at the box:: * Cean wipes his hands. A broom and dust pan jog out of the kitchen, swepe up the mess, and disappear back into the kitchen. <Cean> Do ye ken what that tap was pumping? Do ye? ::intense look, slight frown:: <Tilman> ::sternly:: Aye. A whole lot of cold ... umm... _stuff_. <Cean> shakes his head. <Cean> Another demonstration, then? <Tilman> ::shakes his head:: I get your point. * Cean selects another tap, seemingly at random, and pulls the lever. * Tilman walks back to the Coolerator, shaking his head and mumbling about mages. <Cean> ::A gout of flame licks out, burning through a couple of tap levels below it. He releases the lever, and touches the slagged taps. A slight ripple and they are restored.:: * Bai takes another swig of his spirits. <Tilman> ::jumps at the display, and looks at Cean:: Sorry. Shoulda warned you about that one... <Cean> Eh? Ye dunnah ken with what ye're tampering, m'chara. <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, blinking again:: <Cean> sighs heavily. <Bai> Tilman, remember what we were talking about earlier this evening? <Tilman> ::shrugs, and begins to pull mugs out of the now-useless box:: <Philister> ::kills off a third of the meade left in the mug:: <Tilman> ::looks at Bai, mug in each hand:: Umm... right now, no. <Tilman> ::puts the mugs down, and starts grabbing more:: * Cean returns to his stool and looks for his snifter, which seems to have fled. <Tilman> ::looks at Bai, two more mugs in his hand:: Oh! The mess? * Bai shakes his head, "Don't worry about it." <Tilman> ::places those mugs on the bar, which form up with the first two:: <Philister> ::sits bolt upright, a semi-wild look in his eyes. He looks at Cean and then at Tilman:: <Tilman> ::shurgs at Bai, and places two more mugs on the bar. These stand with the other four:: <Philister> ::leans over to Tilman again:: <Tilman> ::looks at Phil:: * S'ayad'i is watching Cean from under her eyelashes, trying to avoid the appearance of staring. <Cean> I see ye there, lady S'ayad'i, dunnah think I don't. ::smiles:: <S'ayad'i> ::smiles sweetly:: Well, after that show you just put on, I can hardly avoid looking at you, can I? <Philister> ::whisper whisper:: * Cean turns on his stool to face S'ayad'i. <Tilman> ::looks at Phil, two mugs in his hands, and shrugs:: Okay, if you say so. ::Places these two mugs on the bar, and now eight of them stand in military formation as he walks back to the kitchen:: <Cean> Whate'er hae ye been up tah, lass? Why, last time I saw ye, I was...I was...::starts to look befuddled:: <Tilman> ::the mugs confer with one another, then march into the kitchen behind Tilman:: * Bai perks up a little and looks at Cean. <Philister> ::has some more meade:: <Cean> I was...I was...::mumled, almost inaudible, his expression has grown dark:: <Tilman> ::a cut-off shout is heard in the kitchen, followed by loud scuffling, banging and booming:: <Philister> ::leans over the bar to see the ruckus:: <S'ayad'i> ::A brief look of hope flares behind S'ayad'i's eyes, then dies down. Trying to calm him-:: And how have you been, yourself? * Cean starts and looks at the kitchen door, broken out of his bewilderment. Turns back to S'ayad'i. <Cean> Hm, sorry, lass, what was that? <Tilman> ::two plates burst out from the kitchen, in a dead sprint, barely 'glancing' behind them as they head for the far side of the bar. More scuffling comes from the kitchen:: <S'ayad'i> ::sighs softly:: I asked what is it that you do? <Cean> Me? Same as ever, I s'pose. Why do ye ask? ::frowns slightly:: * Tilman backs out of the kitchen, holding his hat on his head, looking somewhat winded. "Aye! Give me a moment!" <Tilman> ::looks at the Patrons, and smiles:: Just a moment, if you please... <S'ayad'i> Hmm? Idle conversation only. ::glances askance at Tilman:: <Tilman> ::speedily walks over to the box, and empties mugs from it by the handful. He places them on the bar as quickly as possible, careful not to 'injure' a single one:: * Bai has some more of his spirits while watching the various goings on. <Cean> Well, ye dinnah tell me what ye've been up tah, lass. ::brightens:: How is it with, with...::snaps his fingers, looking embarassed:: Er, ye know... <S'ayad'i> Felis? He's doing quite well. I'll tell him you asked after him. <Tilman> ::after emptying the box, the mugs all turn their 'backs' on him en masse, and march to the kitchen. Tilman follows, then backs out of the kitchen immediately, hands plaintively in the air:: Aye! I forgot! <Tilman> ::looks back at the Patrons, and then at Phil. He clears his throat:: Ahem. Yes. Well, seems we will have to wait on the Mulekick, won't it? <Philister> ::innocently sips some more meade:: * S'ayad'i 's face is a mask of polite, lighthearted, casual conversation. Under the bar, however, one hand gropes for the missing Eldarin's scabbard. <Cean> Yes, Felis ::his expression grows distant for a minute, one hand gripping the bar, knuckles starting to whiten, then relaxes:: Felis, ::more assuredly:: aye, havenah seen him in somewhat either... * Bai mutters a prayer into his mug, then takes a long drink. <Tilman> ::shuffling sounds come from the kitchen, and a shotglass walks out ever so carefully, and stops at Tilman's feet. He glances down, and picks up the glass, which he places in front of Cean:: Sorry. We had a ... disgreement. I was told you might want this? <Cean> looks at the mule kick. Picks it up and sniffs it. Pulls a face. <Cean> Ech--ye know who drinks this stuff, don't ye? ::shudders and puts it back on the bar:: <S'ayad'i> ::muttered:: You used to... <Cean> I'll have another glass of the Sembian, iffen ye please. * Cean turns to S'ayad'i, raises a white, elven eyebrow. <Tilman> ::shrugs, and puts the shot glass back on the floor. It heads back to the kitchen as Tilman fills another snifter and hands it to Cean:: <Cean> Mm, now and again, but not every day, lass. That stuff'll rot out yer gut. <S'ayad'i> Actually, I never did find out who drinks - or makes - that stuff. Pray tell. <Bai> A few more surprises and I might try it again. <Tilman> [You'll put your eye out!] <Cean> accepts the snifter and sips, smiling. * Cean accepts the snifter and sips, smiling. <S'ayad'i> ::laughs:: It'll do more than that. I've a bit of a delicate constitution. <Bai> Don't worry. You won't feel it. <Cean> Look what they stuff did to, er, what's his face...::fades slightly, trailing off:: <Philister> :;snorts slightly into his mug of meade:: <Tilman> ::looks back at the kitchen, doors securely closed, and begins to wipe the bar tentatively:: * Cean absently sips his brandy, gaze still unfocused. <Philister> ::finishes off his mug of meade and sets it down on the counter:: <Tilman> ::eyes the mug, then looks at Phil:: Would you like another? <Philister> ::looks out the side/front door, and the night's darkness:: No, thanks. I'm set for now. <Tilman> ::nods, and watches as the mug marches off to the kitchen, obviously avoiding Tilman's reach:: <Cean> Iworo? ::softly, then louder:: Look what it did to Iworo, that old sour puss. ::brightens:: <Philister> ::grins:: I thought Iworo was like that *before* the mulekick... <Cean> Mm, mebbe sae, but who could tell the difference. ::sips:: <Tilman> [Fifteen...] <Cean> [home stretch--man I'm beat, this is exhausting] <Bai> [Good, I'm about to use my keyboard as a pillow.] <Tilman> [ditto...] * S'ayad'i finishes her wine and places the glass delicately on the bar. She walks over to the door and leans out to look at the street lanterns. She begins to hum softly, distracted. <Tilman> ::looks at S'ayad'i:: Thinking of calling it a night, milday? * Bai has some more of his spirits and looks at S'ay enviously. <Bai> ::mumbled:: Should probably stop now. <S'ayad'i> Hmm? Well, I'm supposed to meet Felis at his office in half an hour or so. If he finishes up on time. <Tilman> ::looks at the Patrons, then at the kitchen:: Can I get anyone something to warm their bones, before the night's over? <Bai> Best of luck that his duties were light this night. * Cean finishes his brandy. <Tilman> ::nods at S'ay:: Aye, Captain Strongarm does have nights that run later than his scheduled hours. <Tilman> ::looks at Cean and his empty glass:: I guess that'll be it for you, too. Have you somewhere to stay for the night? <Cean> Mm ::scratches his belly:: I think I might be up for a late night snack, something I could be takin' back to my room, mebbe? * S'ayad'i looks down at her dress, and chants a quick cantrip to remove the wrinkles. <Tilman> ::looks at Cean:: Room? <S'ayad'i> Aye, and more than a few. <Cean> Aye, my room, upstairs. ::looks at Tilman as if he's daft:: * Bai pushes his mug away, some spirits still left in side. <Tilman> ::looks at Cean, wholly confused:: Which room would that be? <Philister> ::gnaws the last of the meat off the cold turkey leg, and lays the bone on the plate:: <Bai> I should retire as well. I'm certain to be busy for the foreseeable future. <Cean> That'd be the one I'm staying in. ::shakes his head, awestruck by Tilman's failure to grasp the obvious:: <Tilman> ::still confused:: When did you... ::shrugs:: Oh well. Let me get you something... ::starts for the kitchen, then stops and turns back to Cean:: Maybe you should get it? I don't seem welcome right now, and you seem to know your way around the place... <Cean> All right, then. ::smiles and ducks into the kitchen:: * Bai shakes his head and heads for the stairs. "Steel and Water my friends." <S'ayad'i> Good e'en, Bai. <Tilman> ::smiles and waves at Bai:: Gods watch over ye, Bai! * Cean returns from the kitchen with a plate laden with slices of sausage, a chunk of bread and some cheese. <Cean> Oh, faoilte, m'chara! * Cean waves as Bai leaves. <Philister> ::raises a hand to Bai as he leaves, obviously still pondering the whole Cean situtation:: <Bai> [Bai has left the Hall] <Philister> [elvis has left the building] <Cean> Well, then, Tilman, I'll jus' be takin' this up tah my room. * Cean turns to the remaining guests and waves with his free hand. <S'ayad'i> ::whispers:: Faoilte, Sealgair... <Cean> Faoilte, caradhean. <Philister> [all night I've been trying to remember how to spell 'faoilte'. dammit] <Tilman> ::nods, and shakes his head:: Aye. Well met, then, Cean... <S'ayad'i> ::louder:: Good night, all. <Philister> Faoilte, caraid. <Philister> ::gets up and heads for the door:: <Tilman> ::shakes his head and mutters quietly:: Since when does everyone speak in tongues? <Philister> :;exits:: * Cean heads up the stairs. About halfway he seems to visibly fade, though it could be a trick of the shadows. <Tilman> ::Tilman shakes his head, pulls out a piece of paper from his vest, and a pen from his pocket, and begins writing a note to Moon Dancer:: |
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