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* Michelle unlocks the door and announces, "Hall's Open!" * Michelle returns behind the bar. She is wearing a yellow dress with a sunflower pattern embroidered into it. Michelle is also wearing a matching jacket that has been trimmed in white velvet. The velvet has been embroidered with a sea shell pattern. The waist of Michelle's dress is drawn tight by an orange sash that is tied into an intricate bow in back. The bow descends in twin trains that almost reach the floor, and the sash matches the kerchief Michelle has used to tie her hair into a high pony tail. * Jaret walks in the Hall. He is dressed in black pants and a deep crimson jacket over a white ruffled shirt. His rapier hangs from his belt at his left hip, and Moon Dancer's klaive is on his right side. He takes off his plumed hat as he enters the Hall. "Well met, Michelle! Can I get a glass of Arabellan Red?" * Michelle pours a glass of Arabellan for Jaret and sets it on the bar for him. * Zoya enters and sits at the bar. "Cider, please, Michelle." She smiles pleasantly at Jaret. * Michelle pours Zoya a mug of cider and sets it before her. <Jaret> Thank you, Michelle. ::has a sip of wine:: Well met, Zoya. How do you fare? <Zoya> Quite well, thank you. And yourself? * Glossaria walks in and, without looking up from the book she's reading, hangs her cloak on a peg, uncovering a stack of four books more tucked beneath one arm. She makes her way unerringly to the bar, still engrossed. <Jaret> I'm managing. * Zoya glances at Gloss and sighs. "*Still*, Glossaria?" <Zoya> ::to Jaret:: Merely "managing"? Your new employers must be hard taskmasters. * Jaret smiles. "Modesty, I understand, is welcomed in some quarters." <Zoya> To be certain, but one is accustomed to somewhat more... enthusiastic greetings from you. I thought perhaps you sounded tired. ::smiles:: <Glossaria> ::glances up from her book at Zoya:: Still what? I'm just reading. ::sounding a tad defensive:: <Zoya> ::looks over and tilts her head to see the titles of Gloss's stack:: <Jaret> Oh, no. I'm fine. I'm just practicing discretion. Lisl seems to appreciate it when I do so. ::smiles warmly:: <Zoya> ::laughs:: Well, by all means, accommodate the lady. * Jaret bows slightly to Zoya and has another drink from his wineglass. * Marten walks in from the street, and glances about the Hall as he enters. His eyes stop on Zoya for a moment before stopping on Jaret. "Milord Malkier. My fortune seems to be looking up." * Glossaria places her stack gently on the counter. "Playing the Jade Flute" is back again, and the others follow in a similar vein... sex with an international slant. * Jaret turns to face Marten. "Oh? Why is that?" <Zoya> ::chuckles softly, but leaves Glossaria to her oh-so absorbing reading:: * Zoya smiles a greeting to Marten as he enters. * Vallel walks into the Hall. He is a young man with black hair and green eyes. He looks like he's been traveling for a while, as he is somewhat dusty, disheveled, and has a thin face. * Marten smiles at Jaret. "Nothing overly exciting, Jaret. I just had some questions to ask you, and was just thinking that I should ask you if you were here. Now, here you sit. Fortune smiles upon us all at one time, it seems." <Jaret> Well, please, sit and ask your questions. I'll answer you as well as I can. <Marten> ::nods:: Of course. A mug of ale, first. The night is young, and I'm a bit thirsty. ::turns to Michelle:: Milady keep, a glass of ale, if you please? * Zoya nods affably to the newcomer. * Michelle pours Marten a mug of ale and sets it on the bar in front of him. * Glossaria glances up from her book briefly. "Mistress Michelle? Might I try a glass of... ::glances down at her book and up again:: "Spanish Fly"? <Michelle> ::To Vallel:: Can I get you anything, stranger? * Zoya completely loses her composure and bursts out into loud guffaws. * Vallel walks up towards the bar, rather hesitantly... <Marten> ::looks over at Gloss, smiling:: <Vallel> Surely... do you have a good white wine? ::he reaches into his trousers for a silver coin:: * Glossaria turns to look at Zoya, wide-eyed and astonished. * Michelle puts her face in her hands and sighs, "No Glossaria, you can't." * Glossaria smiles at the newcomer. * Zoya is wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. * Marten picks up the mug of ale and drinks deeply. With an audible sigh of satisfaction, Marten places the mug back on the bar. * Vallel looks at the barkeep in surprise, then glances over at Glossaria. His eyes widen as he stares at her. * Michelle pours the stranger a glass of white wine, still shaking her head. <Glossaria> ::cocks her head at Michelle:: Why not? If you need the recipe, there's one right here... what is... "tabasco"? <Vallel> Thank you, Ma'am... ::places the coin on the table:: * Michelle places the glass on the bar and notices the coin for the first time, "Don't worry about it. The first one's on the house." <Vallel> Well, thank you again... ::pockets the coin:: <Zoya> Glossaria... It's a myth. There are magical potions that... ::giggles again:: Never mind. At any rate, if you're going to be drinking aphrodisiacs, you should have a partner standing by. <Glossaria> ::notices the stranger's stare and sends a mild glance back at him:: May I help you, sir? * Marten takes another, smaller drink of ale, then turns to face Jaret. "So, Milord Malkier. I hear that you are well-versed in the workings of the constabulary in Cormyr." <Vallel> Oh, excuse me ma'am... I apologize. I was... thinking how... unusual your hair color is. * Zoya tries twice to take a sip of cider, only to burst into chuckles and put the mug down rather than abuse the alcohol. Finally, she manages a swallow and turns an interested gaze on the conversation between Marten and Jaret. <Jaret> I do have a few acquaintances among the Purple Dragons, yes, but I'm not a barrister, if that's what you're looking for. <Marten> A barrister? No, no. I'm afraid that would only complicate matters. <Jaret> Well, then, what are the matters you would like to discuss? <Glossaria> ::putting a hand unconsciously to her head to touch her uneven thatch:: No need for apology. It is unusual, for humans at least. I've read that the sylvan elves have hair of a similar shade, but I've never seen one to confirm it. <Vallel> ::stands and moves over to her:: Do you mind if I sit with you? My name's Vallel d'Nache... may I inquire as to your own? <Marten> ::slightly frowns:: Organizational matters, more or less. I've been trying to get a feel for how the Dragons function with the other portions of the Cormyrean government. <Glossaria> ::looking the other direction:: Mistress Zoya, I merely wanted to find out what the physical effects were. My sources have indicated that most aphrodisiacs are highly unreliable. <Zoya> As well they should, Glossaria. I suggest you keep that sort of experimentation to the Tower, though. We have a perfectly adequate kitchen, you know. <Glossaria> ::still to Zoya:: Aye, but I've yet to uncover what "Tabasco" is. None of my bartending or herbalist sources list it. <Jaret> I can tell you what I know. The Dragons are a combination military force and constabulary, and draw duty in policing Cormyrean towns and in traditional military exercises. I think they have a sort of bicameral leadership structure where officers tend to work in one of the two fields, but I'm not certain about that. <Michelle> There I can help you. <Zoya> I can't say I've heard of it, either. Perhaps a cookbook.. ::turns to Michelle:: Really? <Glossaria> ::turning back to Vallel:: Glossaria Anobium, Tower Librarian. ::as if she's reciting a formula:: I'm pleased to meet you. <Michelle> Just a moment. ::Michelle disappears into the kitchen.:: * Vallel sits down <Vallel> The pleasure is all mine, my lady. * Marten drinks a bit more ale, and frowns while shaking his head. "No, not so much the strict organizational structure, then. More of how they function as a policing force. I mean... as a constabulary, how well do they do" * Michelle returns from the kitchen and sets a small red bottle on the bar in front of Glossaria. "Tabasco Sauce. Very spicy. Goes well with quite a few things. You only need a few drops usually." <Jaret> I think they do as well as they can. No police force can prevent or solve all crimes, but the Dragons do fairly well. They patrol more frequently in the more scurrilous areas, to try to hold those of ill means at bay... what else can I tell you? <Zoya> ::frowns at Marten:: Marten, we spent most of last week talking about the effectiveness of the Mage Guild. What on earth are you after? * Michelle places a shot glass on the bar, then mostly fills it with a slightly golden liquid from a bottle she pulled from beneath the bar. <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: Hmm? What do you mean? I'm merely curious. <Glossaria> ::blushes slightly and pauses a moment, uncertain as to how to proceed...looking delighted as she studies the bottle Michelle brings her:: Wonderful! Spicy, you say? How spicy? ::before Michelle can stop her, she unscrews the top and shakes a drop onto her finger, tasting it:: * Michelle puts the golden bottle on the bar and waits for Glossaria to relinquish the Tabasco Sauce. While she waits she gets out a second shot glass and fills it as well. <Zoya> Well, such... intense questioning is usually in pursuit of some specific body of information. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: I can understand why you might think so. But, honestly, I'm just curious about Cormyr. It's people... Magic, especially. Is there some sort of problem? * Glossaria opens her eyes wide as the burn starts on her tongue and slides down her throat...she sticks out her tongue and starts fanning it. "Water! No, wait...bread! Lots of bread, please, quickly!" * Michelle chuckles and leans into the kitchen, pulling out a platter with a loaf of bread and crocks of butter and honey. <Zoya> But... ::shrugs as if it's been said before, and takes a swallow of cider:: <Marten> ::frowns:: But what, Zoya? * Michelle sets the platter down on the bar in front of Glossaria, then picks up the Tabasco Sauce and adds half a dozen drops to one of the shot glasses. <Zoya> Why not just *experience* it all? What's the hurry? <Glossaria> ::tears off a hunk of bread, ignoring the honey and butter pots as she rips out the soft interior of the hunk, wiping the surface of her tongue with it before popping it in her mouth and chewing rapidly:: * Vallel smiles "You look like me after trying my sister's cooking." * Jaret looks confused at Marten. "Magical problem? Not that I've heard of. What makes you ask?" <Marten> ::shrugs:: Zoya... as much as I enjoy Marsember, I am trying to be a realist. I may or may not be in Marsember in a few weeks. <Zoya> ::looks very unhappy at the thought:: If you're not going to be here in a few weeks, then why bother? <Glossaria> Mmm...mmff! ::covering her mouth as she rips off another hunk and chews, aware of her lack of etiquette in front of the stranger:: Mmmm...I'm sorry. ::swallowing hard:: Water please, Michelle? It's just...it's *very* hot. Like getting on the wrong side of a fire ant hive. * Michelle giggles some more at Glossaria's predicament and pours her a mug of water. <Michelle> Here you go Glossaria. ::Michelle sets the mug in front of Glossaria.:: <Marten> ::smiling:: I may be back. 'Learn as much as you can about a place, and you learn the minds of its people.' Cormyr is an odd country on this side of the continent; it's not often you find such an influential nation so cautious about the magical arts. <Vallel> If it is that hot, it would probably go well in a rice dish of some sort. Rice usually provides a good counter for chilies. <Glossaria> ::looking at Michelle as sternly as a person can while chugging a flagon of water:: You *could* have been a trifle more descriptive. "Spicy" is simply not enough information, in this case. <Jaret> What makes you say Cormyr is cautious about magic, the War Wizards? <Marten> ::nods:: The war Wizards, the registration of mages... it just seems odd to me, Jaret. <Michelle> The entire point behind Tabasco Sauce is that it is hot. <Michelle> What would I have had to say to get you not to try that? * Zoya laughs. "I should take you to see the place I was born. Talk about *strict*? <Glossaria> ::thinks, as she takes another bite of bread, chewing more slowly now:: Aye, that would absorb and balance out the capsicum nicely. But I think this concoction is nearly pure capsicum...::getting a small wrinkle of frown between her brows:: I wonder why it's used in an aphrodisiac? Sense titillation, perhaps? <Vallel> Aphrodisiac, ma'am? Are you having difficulty with the man in your life? I fail to see why... ::grins at her:: <Glossaria> ::tips her head to one side and considers Michelle's question:: If you'd warned me that it was a very hot spice, I probably would not have sampled it in undiluted form. <Michelle> Now if you're interested this is a drink I'm rather found of, though I don't drink it very often. ::Gestures to the shot glass she put the Tabasco Sauce in:: It's alternately called either a Prairie Dog or a Prairie Fire. Would you care to try one? <Jaret> I think Cormyr just recognizes that magic can create great harm, and they like to know who can cause them trouble at the drop of a hat. It's not like they require mages to agree to any special code of conduct. Does requiring all weapons to be peacebonded, for example, mean that Cormyr is overly cautious of warriors? <Michelle> Be honest Glossaria, if I had told you how strong it really is, you'd have tried it if only to find out how much I was exaggerating by. <Marten> ::nods:: I would think so, yes. There are few lands I travel that require peace-bonding. It may be frowned upon if you do not bond your steel, but it is not required by law. <Glossaria> ::feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks at Vallel's continued compliments, and putting her hands up to touch them:: Oh! How exciting-- I'm blushing! I have no "man in my life," in the romantic sense that you most likely refer to. If you mean generally, well, I suppose there's the gnomes...and Lord Erdian, but he's not exactly a *man* anymore.... <Vallel> ::blinks a few times:: Gnomes? <Zoya> Really? I have found that the peace-bonding of edged weapons is nearly a universal practice in large cities. * Michelle tries to suppress some giggles at Glossaria's comment. <Marten> ::to Zoya:: A universal convention, Zoya. Not a law, by any means. <Jaret> An interesting point of view, Marten. Cormyr's policies seem to have served it well, though. <Glossaria> ::looking at Michelle:: I'm generally as honest as I'm capable of, based on the information I have. And yes, I would like to try a "Prairie Fire," but give me a moment to recover my taste buds. * Michelle holds the bottle over the shot glass she hasn't added any Tabasco Sauce to yet, "How many drops?" <Zoya> ::raises an eyebrow:: If it is not law, then what is it when one isn't allowed within walls with unbonded weapons? I'm very interested in finding out where you've traveled that peacebonding isn't required. <Glossaria> ::looking back at Vallel:: Gnomes. Ground-dwelling demihumans, about so high on average ::holding her hand up from the floor to indicate height::...? <Vallel> You... reside with them? <Glossaria> ::glancing at Michelle:: How many is average? <Vallel> Actually, I've seen a few, but never met one ::blushes:: This is the first time I've been away from home, so I'm not very well traveled yet. <Marten> ::shrugs:: I guess it's the eye of an outsider, Jaret. I just have a difficult time balancing Cormyr's success in Faerun, their near-isolationist policies and its essential role in the matters with the Hordelands. <Michelle> I admit I find peacebonding a peculiar, though respectable custom. Admittedly, that has more to do with growing up in a land where anyone could carry weapons far deadlier than swords. <Glossaria> ::shrugging one shoulder as she looks back at Vallel:: They live at the Tower, I live at the Tower. They do not live in *close* proximity to me...I generally sleep in the Library, whereas they prefer the basements. <Glossaria> Away from home? ::cocking her head:: Where do you hail from, Master Vallel? * Michelle shrugs to Glossaria, "To be honest, most people don't like the stuff. I've seen everything from a single drop to half a finger." <Glossaria> Half a-- oh! The bartending measurement. Hm. Perhaps...two or three drops? Use your discretion. <Marten> ::nods at Michelle:: Aye, my point exactly. With the power available to mages of all sorts, peacebonding is an aberration. So, Cormyr decides to register its mages, in addition to requiring citizens peacebond their weapons. <Jaret> Isolationist policies? How do you mean? And the Hordelands are some distance from here. I know King Azoun defeated the leader of the Horde in combat some time ago, but they hardly deal with the Horde on a regular basis. <Vallel> I live at the Village of Khymrych, about two weeks travel by foot from here... * Michelle adds three drops to the shot glass and pushes it towards Glossaria. "Bottoms up Glossaria." Michelle tosses back her shot glass. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: No, Jaret. Cormyr played such a central role in the conflict with the Hordelands, and they have such a ... condescending view of outlanders. I just find Cormyr odd in many ways. Right now, Cormyr's dealings with mages has piqued my curiosity. <Glossaria> ::takes her shot glass from Michelle, watches for a moment, and tosses it back in imitation of Michelle, coughing lightly as it doesn't *quite* go down straight.:: Oooh....*much* better with the alcohol! It's better ::waves at her tongue:: dispersed. <Jaret> I don't see how the two affect each other. All mages are asked to do is tell the War Wizards when they enter the country. They don't turn in their spellbooks or reagents, for example. <Marten> You would think that Cormyr would be more open to outlanders, after the Horde. * Vallel sighs and rests his chin on his hands, looking at Glossaria out of the corner of his eye... <Marten> But, doesn't that imply an inherent distrust of mages, Jaret? <Michelle> Marten, I once read a discussion on the differences between inherited and acquired power. In my world anyone could purchase items as effective at killing people as most magic wands. By comparison, mages must go through years of training. During that training they learn the discipline to use their powers properly. I find peacebonding peculiar, because one untrained man can do so little in this world as compared to mine. <Glossaria> ::eats another piece of bread as she settles back on her stool, a dull red glow on her cheeks:: Mmm...the name is appropriate. I feel...toasty. ::smiling:: <Marten> ::looks at Michelle:: Do they? Do mages truly learn restraint and respect for life? And if they do, why do they need to register at all? <Jaret> I wouldn't say a distrust, but more of an awareness of the damage a determined mage can do. ::to Michelle: I am certain you didn't mean to imply it, but do you think that I, for example, have not had years of training? <Zoya> Be reasonable, Marten. If I brought the full mass of my power to bear, I could raze half of this city - and I'm not the most powerful mage in Marsember, let alone Cormyr. <Glossaria> ::picking up her water mug and turning her attention back to Vallel:: Two weeks' travel? I've never been so far. ::a touch of longing in her look:: What prompted you to visit Marsember? Or are starting out on a life of adventure? <Zoya> It only makes sense for them to keep tabs on what possible dangers are in the country. They don't interfere with anything. <Michelle> No Jaret. My point was merely that I fear those who have not had training far more than those who have, because in my world the anger of an untrained man could kill dozens while the anger of a trained man most likely would only take a single life. <Marten> Precisely my point. What good does registering with the War Wizards do, Zoya? Other than providing tangible proof of Cormyr's inherent distrust of mages and foreigners, in the name of civilization? <Vallel> I'm starting out on a life... adventure? Not so sure. I came up here to meet my aunt... she's supposed to introduce me to a teacher who can help me learn to channel my special abilities <Glossaria> Your aunt? ::narrowing her eyes for a moment as she mentally replays the conversation:: Not Mistress Nacheyla, perhaps? <Jaret> Cormyrean mages are required to register as well, Marten. I think your charges of xenophobia might be somewhat exaggerated. <Vallel> You know her? ::looks surprised:: Yes, that is she... <Zoya> Having registered with the War Wizards, Marten, they now know what they may have to combat if I were to decide to turn rogue. The War Wizards are pledged to protect the safety of the common people. <Michelle> ::To Vallel:: She works her actually. <Marten> ::frowns:: I don't follow, barkeep. If he were so inclined, Milord Malkier could easily murder a good portion of those around him, with little to no resistance. <Vallel> So she said in her letter. I thought she would be here... <Marten> ::to Zoya:: Couldn't the War Wizards protect the common good without that knowledge? <Zoya> It's hard to say. Have you ever had to fight a wizard, Marten? <Michelle> Yes, but Jaret's training has also taught him to control his anger, so that he doesn't kill people at random. It's the difference that still amazes me about this place. And one I very much appreciate. <Marten> No. But knowing what the wizard was capable of wouldn't help me in the fight, either. <Glossaria> She often is. I met her here, and she's often here when I have time in from my duties to visit. She was here just last week, in fact. ::cocking her head to one side:: What special abilities? Are you a mage? <Glossaria> ::catching Marten's last comment out of context, and feeling compelled to reply:: Master Tenbones, I think you underestimate the power of information. "Forewarned is forearmed." <Zoya> But of course knowing what the wizard was capable of would help you! ::looks surprised:: If you know that a mage specializes in fire spells, then you are prepared to protect yourself from fire. <Vallel> No, my lady. I am a psionic. ::speaks somewhat reverently:: I understand the very first school for those so talented is here in Marsember <Marten> And, as a mundane mortal, those moments of protection from fire would earn me just that: moments. Any mage worth their salt has more than one trick up her sleeve. <Zoya> But we're not talking about mundane mortals, Marten. We're talking about the *War Wizards* using *their* skills and knowledge to protect the mundane mortals. <Glossaria> A psionic! How interesting! Yes, there is a new school here. ::smiling:: You must have inherited your abilities from your...great-aunt, you said? <Vallel> ::glances at Marten briefly, then says in a stage whisper to Glossaria:: As my Aunt's been known to say "no matter how clever the wizard, a knife in the back will really crimp his style" <Vallel> Aunt Nay is a sorceress, which is a different skill.... we're not sure how I developed psionics... but after some of the things that have happened, I need to be trained in how to control it... <Glossaria> ::chuckling:: Among other things, I imagine. ::taking a sip of water:: I wonder how easy it is to remove bloodstains from fabric with magic? <Marten> ::shrugs:: Perhaps, Zoya. I will give you that the War Wizards are a special situation. I just don't feel that there is a valid enough reason to be forced to let go of my privacy. <Zoya> ::raises an eyebrow:: What privacy are you being asked to relinquish, Marten? You're no mage. <Michelle> Trivial Glossaria. And Vallel, you're correct. One of the first tenants of psionics is that an untrained psionic is a menace to themselves and everyone around them. <Zoya> ::pause:: Are you? <Marten> ::smiles:: No, Zoya. I'm not. <Vallel> Yes ::frowns into his glass:: I haven't hurt anyone yet, but that was only good luck, really. My uncle was pretty mad about the barn. My mum thought I should come here right away, as soon as Aunt Nay's letter reached us. <Glossaria> ::raising her eyebrows:: Did you come into your powers recently, or have you had them since birth? There's very little written, to date, about psionics...mages are treating it as a new science, but my studies indicate it's been a submerged trait among the races of man as long as there's been magic. <Zoya> ::looks somewhat relieved:: Then what privacy are you so concerned about? <Vallel> It just started about a month ago ::blushes beet red and stares very hard at his fingers, to make sure they're all there or something:: My mum thought... well, never mind what she thought. <Michelle> On most of the worlds I've visited and heard of psionics usually emerges during adolescence. <Marten> ::smiles:: I think I may have let my curiosity turn into indignation. I guess I'm more intrigued over Cormyr's apparent duality. I was only looking to clarify it. <Glossaria> ::looking exceedingly interested, especially as he blushes:: No, please...what did she think? I take it you're a...pyromancer, or whatever the similar term is for a psionic? <Zoya> ::frowns slightly, then takes a swallow of cider:: <Vallel> Well, the barn burned down... ::takes a gulp of wine and coughs a little:: My mum thinks it might have to do with... well, with what was going on before the barn caught fire. <Jaret> Very well. Is it sufficiently clarified? ::has another sip of his wine:: <Michelle> Pyrokinetic would be the equivalent. Though there are plenty of other dangerous psionic talents. The most dangerous are the ones relating to telepathy. People can generally find some means of defense against the others. <Glossaria> ::taking a sip of water:: What was going on before the barn caught fire? <Marten> ::empties his mug of ale, and places it on the bar:: For now, it seems. I don't want to wear out my welcome tonight. <Zoya> You're not going to wear out your welcome, Marten. We just want to understand. <Vallel> ::blushes again:: I was... ::cough:: getting better acquainted with a girl * Marten smiles and turns to Zoya. "Understand?" <Glossaria> Getting better...::trailing off and blinking, as she processes this:: Oh! You were having sex? <Zoya> Yes. Understand. * Vallel turns nearly purple and almost sprays wine across the bar:: Ah-hem... well ::cough splutter:: Trying, at any rate. <Zoya> ::mutters something into her cider mug:: * Michelle quirks an eyebrow at Vallel, "Consider yourself very lucky. Every similar situation I've ever heard of wound up with someone dead or at least on their death bed for quite some time." <Vallel> ::winces:: well, she was a bit unhappy about her hair, but it'll grow back out again.... <Marten> Understand what, Zoya? My preoccupation with Cormyrean government and society? <Glossaria> You were having functional problems? Or you were simply inexperienced? There are books for that, you know. ::helpfully pushing her stack towards Vallel:: <Zoya> ::sighs:: Among other things, yes. <Glossaria> ::with an impish smile:: I suppose one could say that the flames of passion burn high in you. <Vallel> ::blushes again:: Well, you're a little... no, they weren't functional problems... they were fashion problems... do you know how many buttons were on Tarri's... oh never mind... ::notices the looks he's getting and staring back into his glass:: <Marten> ::raises a hand, toward Michelle:: Keep, if Zoya is looking for those types of answers, I'll need another glass of ale. ::turns back to Zoya:: What else then, milady? <Michelle> Glossaria, I don't think he needs that kind of help. Just let him enroll in Tyl'gainia's school and he'll be fine. * Michelle refills Marten's mug and returns it to him. * Zoya glares at Marten. "Right now I'm trying to figure out why you remind me of Kevil so much!" She flushes and covers it with a deep drink of cider. * Marten takes a sip of ale, and places the mug back down. * Marten frowns, and looks at Zoya sternly. "Kevil?" <Marten> ::turns to Jaret:: Who is this Kevil? <Glossaria> ::taking another sip of water to wet her lips, and looking at Michelle:: But if he's inexperienced, why *shouldn't* he use the books? What is the point of creating them, if not to store, share, and impart knowledge? * Jaret shrugs at Marten. "I have no knowledge of him." * Vallel tries to pretend like being talked about as if he's not here does not bother him much, and not succeeding very well * Jaret has some more of his wine. <Glossaria> ::perks up at Zoya's outburst:: Kevil? What has your master to do with it, Mistress Zoya? <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: Who is Kevil, milady Zoya? <Zoya> ::shrugs:: Kevil is... A bard. A very gifted bard. From my home world. For a time, he was my lover. ::takes a much deeper drink of cider:: <Zoya> ::laughs:: Kevil wasn't my master, Glossaria. <Michelle> Glossaria, I'm not saying he won't learn anything from the books. I'm saying that his problem is with his psionics. Until he's taken care of that it doesn't matter how skilled or knowledgeable he is. <Glossaria> ::looking back at Vallel:: My apologies...but, you're welcome to share my books, if you like. <Marten> ::blushes slightly:: Ah. I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss, Zoya. <Vallel> ::looks at her:: I'd be happy to... study with you... but I... think the barkeep is right. First things first. You have much too lovely hair for me to burn it off by accident. <Zoya> ::muffled:: It wasn't really a loss, Marten. As far as I know, he's perfectly healthy. He was just... tired of traveling, and I wasn't ready to stop. So we parted ways. ::shoots him a grin:: We argued a lot. * Glossaria blinks at Michelle as she considers her statement seriously. "It seems that his problem is with *both* things, Mistress Michelle. But his psionics, uncontrolled, could pose a danger to others, where lack of sexual experience only poses a danger to his social life. Is that what you meant? * Marten smiles. "Still, he meant something to you, and even the most amicable of partings is a loss. I am just glad I am bringing you pleasant memories." * Michelle glances at Vallel, "Judging by his apparent age I suspect it doesn't impact his social life too terribly much at the moment. In another five or ten years I'd be inclined to agree with you. But he should learn control well before then." <Glossaria> ::blushing again:: I could always cast fire wards. I'm *very* good at those. <Vallel> ::finishes off his wine and grins:: So, you are very experienced, then, ma'am... <Zoya> ::laughs:: I suppose so. Still, you shouldn't remind me of him, except that you're almost as argumentative. Kevil was slim and dark - more like this boy ::waves at Vallel:: than you. * Michelle sighs, "Glossaria, just let it go." * Vallel makes a face at the word "boy" then shrugs... * Marten laughs slightly. "You never know what will bring back memories, Zoya. But, I'm sure there was something else on your mind beside random memories..." <Glossaria> ::shaking her head, and peeking sidelong at Mistress Zoya:: No, I have no experience at all, only book-knowledge. <Zoya> [I'M NOT STOPPING YOU! SEE!] <Vallel> Oh, well, you seem so... calm about it. I thought perhaps you were... well, you know <Zoya> ::smiles slightly crooked at Marten:: Well, I'm still trying to figure out what happened to you, and what you're doing here. <Michelle> Marten, have you given any thought to what I told you two weeks ago? <Marten> ::smirks:: What I'm doing here? Right now, I'm having a glass of ale, and conversation with newfound friends. <Marten> ::to Michelle:: Hmm? <Glossaria> Calm? ::tilting her head to the side:: Sex does seem to arouse strong emotions in people, true...I suppose clinical is a better word. I wish to gain experience, to round out my knowledge and give it a firm basis. * Zoya mutters into her mug again as she tips it back. <Vallel> Really? ::looks into his empty glass:: That's quite unusual <Zoya> Michelle... ::sighs:: No, I'd better not. ::shoos the mug toward the kitchen:: <Glossaria> ::shrugging one shoulder and smiling:: Not *so* unusual, considering the amount of time I've had to gain such experience. <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: It's not often I offer the opportunity to ask me questions, Zoya. I would be dismayed if you passed on my offer of trust and friendship. <Vallel> No, I meant unusual that you were interested... ::cough:: Usually you have to... well... convince the girl... <Zoya> ::smiles:: I'm not passing on anything, Marten. But you keep skirting the questions. <Marten> ::chuckles:: Do I? I'm sorry for that. It's an old habit, and hard to break. I'll try to be more direct in my answers. <Glossaria> ::raising her eyebrows, blinking twice:: Females are generally no less reticent about sex than males are...it's merely a cultural illusion, I think. <Vallel> Cultural Illusion? * Michelle just shakes her head. <Zoya> ::raises an eyebrow:: All right. Why - if Cormyr is so "insular", did you come here? <Marten> ::shrugs:: I was traveling west, and stopped in Marsember on my way to the coast. I decided to stay. <Zoya> Why? <Marten> Cormyr - and Marsember in particular - intrigues me. <Glossaria> Yes. Women are taught from an early age that it's uncivilized to be forward about sex...::furrowing her brow in thought:: Which is probably fortunate, or the cities might suffer a greater population growth than their resources could handle.... <Marten> I feel at ease here. It's quiet and reserved, but still with enough movement to keep life interesting. <Vallel> ::laughs:: My mum would be... oh lord... she would not have sent me up here if she knew about you... <Glossaria> ::piping up:: Master Tenbones, I thought you were forced to stay because of the injury M'lord Malkier dealt you? <Zoya> Why were you traveling in the first place? Wasn't your brotherhood, whatever it is, taking care of you? * Zoya stands and moves to sit closer to Marten so she can look at him without twisting around. <Marten> ::looking at Glossaria:: No, milady. Jaret's wound held me in place for a few days, yes. But having healed days ago, I could leave any time I wanted. <Glossaria> ::raises her eyebrows:: You see? Exactly my point...women who discuss sex freely are immediately deemed uncivilized in some fashion. ::shakes her head:: I still haven't figured out the purpose for that...control of bloodlines, perhaps? Protecting the institution of marriage, and the financial ties that go with it? * Jaret finishes his wine. <Zoya> And you decided to stay because you were... culturally... intrigued? ::watching Marten intently:: <Marten> ::to Zoya:: Indeed. They take every care into consideration. But, after a while, one feels... uneasy with your place in the world. And then... you start to wander. <Marten> ::nods:: Among other things, yes. <Vallel> I thought marriage was a matter of love, not money... * Marten takes another sip of ale, and follows it with a longer drink from his glass. <Zoya> ::laughs quietly:: "Among other things." <Marten> Yes. ::looks at Zoya, smiling:: Among other things. <Zoya> What about the injury Michelle unveiled? Have you considered that? Thought about where it might have come from? <Glossaria> ::looking earnestly at Vallel, delighted to have someone to bounce these ideas off of:: Well, the young people believe that...and all the romantic literature talks about that...well, except for the ones that talk about having a mistress or a lover besides your spouse....but then why are there arranged marriages? Those are more like...business transactions. <Marten> ::frowns:: I've thought about it some. But, there's so much I don't remember, Zoya, that thinking about it only leads me in circles. <Vallel> Well, my village has had some arranged marriages, I know... but then, who would want to arrange a marriage with me? I'm sort of hoping I might fall in love someday... <Glossaria> ::glancing at Vallel sidelong, from under lowered lashes:: Well, you have a strong talent...you come from a good family...you're handsome...why not? * Zoya nods, thoughtful. She looks up into Marten's eyes. "What's hunting you?" <Vallel> ::ticks off reasons on his fingers:: I have a "weird" ability, I'm not a very good shepherd, I usually manage to make a mess of shearing, and I don't like weaving. Mum used to complain she didn't know what she'd do with me... * Marten looks at Zoya, and takes a long drink from his glass. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I did say you could ask, didn't I?" <Glossaria> ::shrugs:: So you're not a good herdsman. Many younger sons make their fortune as adventurers. Just think of the possibilities! And besides, you have time. ::smiling:: <Zoya> ::nods without lowering her gaze:: Yes. I'd feel much happier if I knew what we'd be facing. <Vallel> Adventuring? I've never been adventuring before... my aunt sometimes tells about it, but she makes it sound cold and wet and dangerous. <Jaret> ::with a grin:: Sometimes it's hot and dry and dangerous. <Marten> ::nods:: I don't know, Zoya. Not for sure, anyway. <Glossaria> ::smiling:: M'lord Malkier's the one to talk to. He does *lots* of adventuring, don't you, M'lord Jaret? He's a professional! <Jaret> ::to Vallel:: You want my advice? Stay in Tyl's school for a decade or so. After that, if you can't find something else to occupy your time, consider adventuring. <Zoya> But you have some guesses. <Vallel> A decade? I'll be an old man in a decade... twenty six is awfully old... <Glossaria> ::looking surprised:: Mistress Nacheyla said she was in the 300's, didn't she? That's not a genetic trait? * Jaret looks balefully at Vallel. "Think before speaking, boy." <Marten> ::shakes his head:: I'm really not sure, Zoya. I do have some ideas, but they're dark and ominous. I... I expect anything, and suspect everything. ::looks at the floor:: And nearly everyone. <Vallel> Well, it certainly seems a long time from now, at any rate ::slightly sulky:: <Glossaria> ::Guilelessly:: How old are you, M'lord Jaret? Forty? <Jaret> Of course it's a long time from now. Time to hone your skills, so they keep you from an unfortunate death in the first cavern you stick your nose into. <Vallel> Aunt Nay's got some magic item that keeps her well-preserved. The rest of her family is normal. Sometimes I feel badly for her. She's been watching her family grow old and die for a long time now... <Jaret> ::to Glossaria:: Not, quite, dear. <Zoya> Yes, of course you do. ::narrows her eyes:: Lisl gave you quite a scare, didn't she? * Marten stares at Zoya's feet. "Yes, she did. That was the last thing I was expecting from her." <Glossaria> ::smiling:: And time to learn not to toast every woman you bed. <Vallel> I didn't hurt her... she just has really short hair now... it doesn't look *bad* ::sounds a little defensive:: It wasn't like I meant it to happen. <Michelle> But now she blames you for everyone knowing what the two of you were doing? <Glossaria> ::grinning at him and putting a hand lightly on his arm:: I'm sorry, I was just teasing you. I don't have much experience at that, either. <Vallel> Well, ::shuffles in his seat:: I think so. <Zoya> She didn't mean to frighten you, Marten. She's... Worried about Moon Dancer. ::lifts his chin so he's forced to meet her gaze, and speaks very quietly:: Did she tell you, 'Dancer was a werewolf, too? <Marten> No she didn't. But I suspected something of the sort. ::sighs:: She seems most upset by my presence, Zoya. I'm not sure how to handle her. <Zoya> ::smiles a little sadly:: She'll cope. Either... Either 'Dancer will come back, or he won't. At this point, I think it's the *mystery* that frustrates her the most. <Glossaria> [actually, point of order: she DID tell him. He was just a little to crazed to listen.] * Jaret looks out the door at the night sky. "I had best be going, actually. Things to get done before I sleep. Good night, all." <Vallel> Well, Tarri's not talking to me anymore... <Zoya> ::turns to smile farewell at Jaret:: Good night, my friend. <Glossaria> Good night, M'lord Jaret! <Michelle> Goodnight Jaret. Oh by the way, red or black? <Jaret> Hmmm? Red or black what? <Michelle> Just pick one. <Glossaria> Well...::speaking slowly, thinking as she talks:: That would fit with what I've surmised about women's sex roles...after all, you were trying to be secret about it, weren't you? <Jaret> Oh... Red. * Michelle pulls a red bottle out from underneath the bar, "Thank you." <Vallel> ::nods:: Well, if we weren't, we wouldn't have been in the barn... which is probably a good thing. I don't think even Mum would have forgiven me if I'd burned the house down... <Marten> ::frowns:: Yes, I guess she will. ::drains the last of his ale, and sets the glass on the floor, shooing it back towards the kitchen:: I have an appointment to keep as well, I'm afraid. Will you be at the Tower tomorrow Zoya? I find it... easy to talk to you. * Jaret looks bemusedly at Michelle. "You're welcome, but for the life of me, I have no idea what for. Good night." <Zoya> ::smiles:: Yes, of course. Any time. <Marten> Good night, Jaret. Gods protect you. <Glossaria> So...when you..um....burned the barn down in the...heat of passion ::giggling a little::, she was probably very embarrassed. After all, it wasn't a secret anymore. * Jaret heads out the door. Several moments after he leaves, the distant chorus of howling wolves is heard for a moment, and then they fall silent again. <Vallel> Um... not secret at all... <Glossaria> ::glancing up at Marten's "easy to talk to" comment, opening her mouth as if to say something, and then closing it again with a shake of her head. * Marten stands, and takes Zoya's hand. "Thank you." He kisses her hand, and then turns to face the bar. "Good night, keep, all! I hope the night treats you well." <Vallel> It looks like the bar is closing, ma'am... may I escort you to your domicile? <Glossaria> Good night, M'lord Marten! <Zoya> Good night, Marten. Take care. <Marten> ::smiles at Zoya:: And you as well, milady. <Michelle> Night Zoya. * Marten walks out the front door, looks both ways, and shuffles quickly off toward the city center. <Glossaria> ::smiling:: I'd be delighted to have your company. ::scooting a little closer to him:: After all, there are dangerous beasts abroad. Just let me get my books...::picking up her pile of books, and dropping "Jade Flute" so that it falls open on the floor...a careless mistake to anyone except those that know Glossaria:: Oops! * Zoya watches Marten go, a bemused look on her face, before turning an amused look on her librarian. * Vallel glances down at the book and stares, open-mouthed for a moment. <Vallel> ::cough:: * Zoya is obviously strangling laughter, but she makes no move to interfere.' * Vallel picks up the book, flips a few pages and turns beet red again. <Vallel> I think you might want this... ::cough:: <Glossaria> Oh, I'm so sorry...::holding out her hand for the book, her fingers brushing lightly over his as she takes it:: * Zoya thinks to herself that she has seen subtler seductions in ogre-dens. <Vallel> Do you need some help carrying those? ::grins:: * Michelle shoots a glance at Zoya, "So what are the insurance rates on magical towers that serve as domiciles to tinker gnomes?" <Zoya> ::blinks at Michelle:: Pardon? <Michelle> Ask me some other time. ::Puts the red bottle back beneath the bar.:: <Zoya> ::looks at the bottle curiously:: What's that, anyway? <Glossaria> Research. ::another blush heating her cheeks:: Well....::looks torn between the "etiquette" of dating and the possibility of damage to her books:: Here, you could carry these....::separating two from her stack and tracing a quick figure over their covers, which glows briefly blue before fading to nothingness:: <Michelle> Whiskey from the Moonshaes. <Vallel> You're a mage? * Vallel carefully tucks the books under his arm. <Zoya> ::distractedly watching Gloss, mutters:: I hope she doesn't kill him. Nacheyla would be quite unhappy with me. <Zoya> ::perks up:: Moonshaen whiskey? Really? ::grins:: Better stocked than I thought. <Glossaria> ::glancing over her shoulder as she heads for the door:: The Tower *is* of magically warded stone, Mistress Michelle. ::sounding reproving:: <Glossaria> Not...exactly. But I've picked up a few spells in my line of work. * Vallel offers Glossaria his other arm (not the ones with the books tucked under it) * Glossaria smiles as she tucks her hand into the crook of Vallel's arm, allowing him to escort her from the Hall, whisking her cloak off its peg as she leaves..this time, without dropping so much as a page:: * Glossaria winks at Zoya over her shoulder and leaves. * Zoya grins as Gloss and Val leave, then stands. "I'd better follow those two to make sure they make it safely back to the Tower." She grins at Michelle. "Ah, young lust, eh?" * Michelle shakes her head, "Well I hope they don't do too much damage to each other." <Zoya> ::laughs:: I hope they don't do too much damage to the *Tower*! I'll see you later, Michelle. Take care. <Michelle> Hopefully she'll stop asking such embarrassing questions. Goodnight Zoya. * Zoya ducks out into the night, being careful to stay back so as not to be noticed. * Michelle finishes cleaning up the bar, then carries the bread platter back into the kitchen. <Deanna> ::A woman with long red hair walks out of the kitchen. She's wearing a short green jacket and matching short skirt over a black lace top. A black leather girdle decorated with silver chains cinches her waist. Around her neck she wears a necklace of red glass beads with a silver mirror at the bottom of the necklace. The sleeve seams of the jacket are similarly decorated. * Deanna leaves the Hall, "Oh Jaret..." |
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