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* Rhys walks in from the kitchen, unlocks the front door, and returns behind the bar. "Hall's open." * Vallel walks in, looking exhausted. He has new clothes, somewhat less farmy looking. He is wearing a white cotton shirt and brown trousers. He is limping a little, new boots... <Rhys> Good evening, young sir. My name is Rhys, and I'm bartending tonight. What can I get you? <Vallel> Good evening... my name is Vallel d'Nache, and I'd like some white wine, please <Rhys> Wine...? ::squints slightly:: Aren't you a little young... well, a glass can't hurt, too much. But not much more. ::pours Vallel a glass of white wine:: * Zoya enters, dressed in worn and stained working clothes rather than her usual shimmering robe. There is dust in her hair and paint and varnish on her hands. She heads straight for the bar. <Rhys> Evening Zoya. You look like you've been working hard today. Can I get you a workmanlike mug of ale, or cider, perhaps? <Zoya> Rhys, my friend, there's nothing like a day of honest work to make one extremely thirsty - a cider would be most wonderful! * Rhys pours Zoya a mug of hard cider. "Here you are..." * Zoya drains half the mug and sets it down with a happy sigh. "Thank you." * Vallel sips at wine... <Zoya> ::considers:: It's probably high time I had some food today, as well. Could I trouble you for some bread? Maybe a little fruit? <Rhys> So, Zoya, what was your day's honest work. Carpentry? * Glossaria enters and pushes back the hood of her cloak, revealing a fading bruise on her cheek. She hangs up her cloak and turns, scanning the bar. "Vallel!" She crosses the room towards him, a bright smile on her face. * Vallel turns and smiles. <Rhys> Of course. Just a moment. ::bustles into the kitchen, and returns moments later with a plate of apple slices and warm bread and cheese.:: <Vallel> Ah, Gloss... I brought you something... ::reaches into his backpack and pulls out a box:: <Zoya> ::she smiles happily and takes a bite from a slice of bread:: A little carpentry, some varnishing, some painting... ::she grins:: Getting everything ship-shape. <Zoya> ::taking another bite of bread:: Rhys, did you make this? This is marvelous bread. If the Tower staff cooked like this, I wouldn't be nearly so skinny. * Marten enters the Hall, looking first left then right, scanning the collected faces. He spots Zoya and smiles, then walks slowly toward where she stands at the bar. "Rhys! Well met this evening! A glass of cold water, if you please." <Glossaria> For me? ::she takes a seat next to him, leaning towards him as if she wanted to communicate through touch alone.:: * Rhys looks down his nose at the bead. "That, I think Zoya, is seasoned with hunger spice, at the moment. Don't elevate your opinion of my baking skills on its account." <Rhys> Of course. ::pours Marten a mug of ice cold water from one of the taps:: <Zoya> ::laughs and picks up a slice of apple:: <Glossaria> Rhys, might I have a glass of...::glancing at the glass in front of Vallel:: White wine, please? * Zoya smiles warmly at Marten. "I'm sorry I left you on your own all day; I had some work to attend to. I hope you don't mind." <Rhys> ::with a sly grin:: Jumping ahead in the alphabet, Glossaria? One moment. ::fixes her a goblet of white wine, and places it next to Vallel's:: * Marten picks up the glass and drinks deeply from it. He places the glass down on the bar, and looks over the assortment of patrons collected here. As Zoya speaks, he turns his head and beams a smile. <Marten> ::to Zoya:: Of course not. I understand completely. I hope it wasn't anything you needed a spare set of hands for, but were afraid to ask. I would have been more than happy to offer my assistance. <Zoya> ::wolfing down some cheese:: No, not at all. It's my pet project, really, I prefer working on it alone. * Rhys looks at Zoya, goes back into the kitchen, returns with a second plate of fruit, bread, and cheese, and sets it down near the first plate. <Zoya> But I should have left a note, at least. <Glossaria> ::accepts the box from Vallel and opens it slowly, running a finger around the edge to ease the lid up and peering in, taking a deep, happy sniff as if it contained the rarest perfume:: Oh, Vallel! You're so sweet! ::leaning over and kissing him on the mouth before putting the box down on the counter...it contains various types of paper, rolled up into truffle shapes and arranged like a box of chocolates.:: * Zoya looks at the second plate, grins sheepishly, and slows down. "Sorry, Rhys. It's been so long since I've done manual labor like that..." She trails off and looks over at Glossaria. <Marten> ::waves his hand, dismissively:: No need at all. I am a grown man, after all, and fully capable of handling myself. We all have our pet projects; I was actually able to get some work done on one of my pet projects during your absence. * Vallel blushes, coughs, and takes a quick sip of wine. Mistake. He coughs some more and covers his mouth with his hand. <Marten> ::reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a key, which he hands to Rhys:: I don't think I'll be needing this much longer, Rhys. If you have need of the room, please feel free to take this key. <Zoya> Oh? <Glossaria> ::taking a long sip of wine and leaning her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh:: I feel so happy just touching you...isn't it funny that such a little thing could cause such pleasure? <Vallel> ::collecting himself:: I'm glad you like it. * Rhys takes the key. "Very well. If you've gotten all your things out, of course." <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: What? Just because I'm new to Marsember, I can't have pet projects? I'm not completely without contacts and acquaintances in the city, Zoya. <Vallel> Um... okay. um... ::looks at her:: Maybe we should start with manners... or finish with manners maybe ::blush:: <Glossaria> ::blushing and putting a hand on his knee:: Oh! Not to say that *that* was little! I just meant, you know, touching you like this... <Marten> ::nods to Rhys:: I'll be getting the last bundle when I leave this evening. <Zoya> ::laughs:: I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort, Marten. You're certainly allowed - as a grown man, as you just reminded me - to have whatever contacts, acquaintances, and projects you like. ::she looks rather amused:: <Glossaria> ::blushing again, deeper this time:: Oh! I'm so sorry! I forgot that public displays of affection are often frowned upon. ::smiling:: I'll try to behave. ::leaning her head on his shoulder again with a happy sigh:: <Marten> ::grins slightly, realizing how foolish he's sounding:: I apologize. I let my emotions get the better of me. <Vallel> eh... ::takes her hand:: well, it's certainly not like I'm not enjoying it. But at the same time, you don't want people to think badly of us, do you? <Zoya> It's all right. Have some bread? Despite what Rhys says about "hunger spice", it's quite good. <Glossaria> Certainly not. ::snuggling a little:: * Vallel looks down at Gloss's green hair, smiles, shrugs and leans his head on top of her head <Marten> ::smiles:: Bread? I think I might. ::turns toward Rhys:: Rhys! Do you have anything to go with the bread here? Something to make a light dinner, perhaps, and a glass of wine. * Zoya starts to protest, then realizes she's already *eaten* all the fruit and cheese. <Marten> ::thinks hard for a few moments, and mutters to himself:: What is the name of that wine that Jaret orders so frequently... * Lisl enters looking particularly travel-worn and slightly damp. As she hangs her satchel on a peg and moves to the bar, the faint odor of wet dog follows her. "'Evening, Rhys. Kick, please." <Zoya> Lisl! How are you? <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, and shifts in his chair:: Lisl! Well met. I hope the world is treating you well...? <Glossaria> ::shifting a little:: So how was your first day of class, dear? <Rhys> Of course, Marten. ::Rhys picks up the two empty plates, goes into the kitchen, and returns a minute or so later with two plates that have each have a medium sized cut of venison and a small baked potato on them.:: Here you are... <Marten> ::smiles as a mental light bulb comes on:: Arabellan Red! A glass of Arabellan Red, Rhys, if you please. * Rhys quickly serves Lisl her mug of 'kick. "Good journey?" <Rhys> Very well, Marten. ::pours them each a goblet of wine:: * Temire limps into the Hall clearly favoring her right leg. <Lisl> ::glances from Zoya to Marten and back to Zoya, and grins:: In a word, wet. There was a thunderstorm to the west that nearly washed me out of that damn pass. <Rhys> Temire. Everything all right? <Zoya> I'm glad to see you made it. ::looks up in concern as Temire enters:: * Marten looks at the plate of food, and his broad smile widens even further. "Perfect, Rhys. Many thanks." He picks up some silverware from behind the bar, and offers a set to Zoya. "Silver, milady?" <Rhys> And, Lisl, I can have you dry as a bone in a moment if that's what you'd like. * Temire hangs her undyed cloak on a peg revealing black breeches and shirt made from a heavy fabric. Both are liberally decorated with rips and cuts. <Zoya> ::laughs and takes the silverware:: Thank you. * Rhys raises an eyebrow. "Either youthful fashion has taken another odd turn, or you've been in some scraps, Temire." <Lisl> ::holding up a hand:: No, that's alright, Rhys, I had quite enough of that from my relatives. I'll dry off the normal way, for now...::making a face:: unless...I smell like a dog, don't I? * Zoya pauses in the act of cutting her venison and studies Temire. "Temire, what on earth...?" * Vallel looks over at Temire and Lisl... * Temire limps to a table, unbelts her sword belt, laying the rapier on the table before dropping into a chair. Her face looks battered and there's a dark stain high up on her right sleeve. "Got any bandages Rhys?" <Marten> ::notices Zoya's concern, and follows her gaze to Temire. Quietly, he says to Zoya:: Who is she? * Zoya coughs in surprise and turns to Lisl. "Grow up fast, don't they?" <Lisl> Mm? ::turns around and looks at Temire, speaking mildly:: Don't drip on his floor, Rhys hates that. What did you get yourself into? * Rhys reaches into a sleeve and pulls out a small stack of gauze bandages and square pads, which he sets in front of Temire. <Zoya> ::looks at Marten with surprise, then shrugs:: Well, you didn't get a good look at her - this is the young lady who speared you on instinct your first night here. <Zoya> ::to Temire:: Speaking of which, have you had any more problems with that... fading in and out? <Marten> ::looks surprised, then surprise quickly turns to concern:: Is there anything we can do, milady? <Lisl> ::looking at Zoya:: Grow up...::looking around the bar, noticing Gloss and Vallel:: You mean your librarian finally found a victim? <Zoya> ::laughs:: That, too. <Temire> Oh, I was walking along the docks and heard some child screaming. When I showed up she was in a sack and a half dozen or more men were loading her into a boat. I think I need more practice against multiple opponents, but the girl's safe. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: I can tell you trained with Jaret. You've got his instincts. ::shakes her head with a smile:: <Zoya> I'm impressed, Temire. Yohko should be quite pleased. <Marten> ::his eyes widen:: Impressive. * Temire scans the patrons for a moment, her eyes settling on Vallel. "Lisl, could you help me in the kitchen? Most of them are minor, but I'm not going to be able to reach this one on my own." Temire gestures to her right arm. * Lisl looks from Temire to Vallel and back, and nods shortly. "Sure." * Temire picks up the bandages with her left hand and limps into the kitchen. * Lisl follows Temire, holding the door open for her with one hand. * Glossaria lifts her head to take a sip of wine. "I hope she'll be alright..." <Marten> ::Marten looks at Zoya, then decides to eat a little bit of the meal in front of him before it gets cold:: <Glossaria> ::looks at Vallel, resisting the urge to tweak his nose:: So...you never told me how class was! * Zoya looks into the kitchen, then at the cooling venison in front of her, then back at the kitchen. She sighs, shrugs, and starts eating. <Vallel> ::takes a sip of wine, looking after the two women with a thoughtful glance:: Class was... interesting <Glossaria> Interesting? ::sitting upright:: Interesting how? Did you take any notes? Could I see them? <Vallel> Actually yes... ::digs around in his backpack again:: I thought you might want to look at them... * Vallel hands her a small bunch of papers with messy handwriting all over them. <Vallel> I'm glad my mum decided I should learn my letters. <Zoya> ::starting in on her potato:: So, if it's not terribly prying, Marten, what *did* you do today? <Glossaria> Wonderful...this is wonderful...::scanning the pages, shuffling through them rapidly and looking up:: Learn your letters? What do you mean? ::frowning puzzledly:: <Marten> ::takes a sip of the Arabellan Red, and nods approvingly:: Excellent. Jaret has an excellent taste in wines, it seems. <Vallel> why, learn to read and write, of course. It was awfully time consuming, and my da' was sorely put out to miss me during the shearing, but mum insisted <Glossaria> You mean...::frowning deeper:: there are people who *don't* know how to read? Or write? <Vallel> Lots of them, in my village. My da' he knows his numbers and can make his mark, but no more than that <Zoya> ::raises an eyebrow:: Which means, I take it, that it *is* too nosy. ::chuckles and drinks her cider:: <Glossaria> ::looks slightly horrified:: But...but...how do they use books, then, if they can't read? Why doesn't anyone teach them? <Vallel> My da' doesn't see the need. After all, the sheep don't care if you can read, and what else do you need it for? ::makes a face:: I think he was relieved when I went away. Candles are expensive <Marten> ::looks at Zoya, and realizes he hadn't answered:: Oh! I'm sorry! ::puts down his silverware, and turns toward her:: More research, mostly. History of Marsember and the like; nothing important. You? <Zoya> Oh, I was working on my ship. <Marten> ::looks puzzled:: Ship? You're a sailor as well? There seems to be a great deal... ::stops himself:: Or, do you mean a ship for traveling among the stars? <Zoya> ::she nods, wiping up the last of the juice on her plate with a bit of bread:: My Ethership, yes. <Glossaria> ::looking close to tears:: But...all that lovely history...those thoughts, those emotions...the poetry, the weather reports, the bestiaries, the herbals and codices...he's not interested in *any* of it? * Temire limps back out of the kitchen and drops back into the chair she originally sat down in. <Marten> ::looks a little confused:: /Ether/ship? What is that? ::he absentmindedly picks up a small piece of bread, and eats it:: <Vallel> Da' is interested in sheeps... sheep raising, sheep rearing, sheep breeding, sheep herding, sheep eating... I personally hate sheep. But he knows everything that he knows. He sees no need for writing it down. * Lisl returns from the kitchen after a few moments, a plate of raw, finely sliced venison in one hand. * Temire works her left boot off, wincing several times as she does so. <Zoya> Well, it's not really *Ether*. The Ether is a plane. A slight misnomer, but I think it sounds more elegant than "spelljammer". ::smiles:: In any case, your guess was correct - it's a ship for traveling to other worlds. <Glossaria> ::correcting absently:: The plural of sheep is sheep...like moose. But he has no access to *older* animal husbandry knowledge...and if he can't write, he has no way of passing on all his knowledge concisely and accurately to his farthest descendants! * Temire pulls her stocking off and begins examining her toes. <Marten> ::nods:: I understand, then. ::he pauses for a few moments, intentionally looking at his glass of wine:: Are you... planning on leaving soon? <Lisl> ::setting her plate down and looking up:: You're going away, Zoya? ::glancing momentarily at Marten and back:: Now? <Zoya> Not planning on it, no. But it never hurts to be ready to travel. <Vallel> What's a meese? <Temire> Damn. ::Temire leans back in her chair and props her left foot up on a chair. <Rhys> Something amiss, Temire? <Glossaria> Moose. Large deer-like creature from the Northern Wastes...stands taller than a human, huge set of antlers. But that's not what I meant! <Marten> ::frowns:: Planning... usually, planning for travel highlights an understood need for travel, either sooner or later. <Zoya> It occurred to me that I'd neglected my ship for entirely too long, and that today would be the only free day I'd have for some time. <Temire> I think my toe was broken one of the times those assholes stomped on my foot. <Zoya> ::chuckles softly:: There was a time when I was never *not* ready to travel. My time here in Marsember is the longest I've ever stayed in one place in my life since I was four years old. <Zoya> Old habits die hard. Besides, given... certain things we discussed, I thought it might be prudent. <Marten> ::smiles:: Well, then I'm glad you've decided to stay as long as you have. Why would today be your only free day? <Lisl> ::leaning over and studying Temire's toe as she munches away at her plate of meat:: Yup, it's broken. Be glad it wasn't the foot. Foot fractures are nasty to heal. ::makes a face:: I had to rebreak my foot twice once to get it to heal straight after a centaur stepped on me accidentally. <Vallel> Hmmm... well, the only thing I can say is you've never heard my da' talk... that man knows everything there is to know about sheep. And so do most of my brothers and sisters. I listened less, so I don't know as much. <Marten> ::nods sternly:: I understand your concern, but it might be a bit premature, don't you think? * Temire starts flexing her right hand, "Better examine this as well. I discovered one of them was wearing a breast plate the hard way." <Glossaria> ::passionately:: Then such knowledge should be preserved, and disseminated! Think of how useful his knowledge could be to a farmer on the other side of the continent who, for example, had never had to deal with a bout of anthrax? <Vallel> What's anthrax? * Zoya shrugs. "Working on the ship is very time-consuming, Marten, and I have a number of duties that eat up time here in Marsember. Besides, it will need *many* days of work before I feel comfortable sailing in it again. <Rhys> You may want to consider visiting a temple. While magical healing may be unneeded, there are some nonmagical treatment you could stand to benefit from. <Glossaria> ::shakes her head:: There, you see what I mean? It's an incredibly virulent disease that kills sheep...and it can make humans sick, too. <Glossaria> Though not goats...I don't understand that. ::scratching her head:: <Vallel> Goats never get sick * Marten smiles again at Zoya. "My offer of assistance still stands, Zoya. Master Goran can find another fletcher almost at will." <Zoya> ::she nods:: I'll keep it in mind. <Lisl> ::rising from her stool, fingers bloody as she takes Temire's hand in hers and probes delicately with her thumb:: No, not broken, just a sprain. <Marten> ::turns back to his plate, placing a forkful of food into his mouth, chewing happily:: <Glossaria> Hmm... Glanhard of Nustria said that goats were the misbegotten spawn of demons. I wonder if that's why they don't get sick. <Vallel> Actually, goats are very friendly... well, lady goats are, at any rate... * Zoya finishes off her mug of cider and sets it down on the counter. "Excellent food, Rhys. Another cider would round it out just perfectly." <Glossaria> ::raises an eyebrow:: Oh? And how do you know that? ::she said archly:: * Rhys pours Zoya another mug of cider. <Zoya> Thank you. ::drinks less deeply, leaning against the bar:: <Lisl> ::coughs to cover a laugh at Gloss's tone:: Rhys, could I have that 'kick now, please? <Vallel> We have a couple of goats... ::oblivious man here:: I used to tend to them from time to time. We kept them around for milk and cheese... you can't milk a sheep, you know <Rhys> Oh, I'm sorry, Lisl. ::pours Lisl a mug of 'kick:: <Glossaria> Actually, it can be done...it's not just very productive. ::smiles at a thought:: "It hurts you and annoys the sheep." <Lisl> Quite alright, Rhys. ::rises to get her mug and places it on the table, pushing it towards Temire:: Here. Take a sip. A *small* sip, mind you. <Vallel> Of course, I discovered the hard way one time that goats eat paper. Master Dareph was exceedingly annoyed. <Glossaria> Heh. Goats eat everything. But their leather makes fine book bindings. ::with a satisfied evil grin:: * Temire stares at Lisl as if she just told Temire to become best friends with Yb. <Lisl> No, seriously. ::smiling at her expression:: It won't kill you, I promise. Take a small sip, and the pain will stop. Really. <Lisl> ::smiling wider:: Trust me. <Zoya> ::smiles at Marten:: So, did you sleep well? Was the room all right? Not too drafty? <Temire> Alright, but if I pass out you're carrying me home and explaining everything to Yohko sensei. * Temire cautiously picks up the mug, hesitates a moment, then takes a very, very, very small sip. <Lisl> Not a problem. Just remember...a small sip. And don't cough and spray it across half the room. I wouldn't want you to catch the Hall afire. <Marten> ::placing his fork on his now-empty plate:: The accommodations were wonderful, Zoya. For a tower, the Tower has surprisingly comfortable sleeping arrangements. <Zoya> ::smiles:: Well, it's... somewhat aware. I'm sure it did its best to please you. <Vallel> ::looks over at Marten, then winks at Gloss:: Yes, it does, doesn't it? <Lisl> ::idly picking another slice of meat from her plate with her fingers and nibbling on it:: Oh, he's still sleeping over, is he, Zoya? <Zoya> ::nods:: Given what he's told me, I thought it would be for the best. The Tower is probably the safest place on the entire continent he could be. <Glossaria> ::giggles and punches him lightly in the shoulder:: <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Still? I didn't realize I had started to begin with, Lisl. <Zoya> ::mutters *very* quietly to Marten:: Remind me later to ask her if she's acting according to the etiquette she's learned. <Lisl> You mean you went two weeks without sleep? Maybe you do have more in common with 'Dancer than I thought... ::one side of her mouth lifting in a grin:: When I left for Candlekeep two weeks ago, you were on the way home with Zoya. <Marten> ::snorts slightly into his glass of wine:: Of course. I hope to see her reaction. <Zoya> ::still very quietly:: I'm just glad the Library is on the *other* side of the Tower. <Marten> ::this time, he can't control his laughter, and bursts out into a short blast of laughter:: Damn you, woman! ::he places his hand on Zoya's arm, grasping it gently as he laughs:: <Zoya> ::grins at Marten:: Gotcha. * Vallel leans over to Gloss and says something quietly in her ear <Lisl> ::grin widening, as her ears are far sharper than Gloss's:: Glad for your sake, Zoya, or for hers? What have you all been up to in my absence? <Zoya> ::smiles mysteriously at Lisl, knowing it'll drive her nuts:: * Glossaria 's eyes widen to saucers as she looks at Zoya, and turns to Vallel. "You mean...?" <Lisl> ::chuckling:: That trick won't work with me now, Zoya. ::grinning wider and tapping her nose meaningfully:: * Zoya grins at Lisl, but doesn't say anything. <Marten> ::looks at Zoya, slightly confused:: So, if Glossaria and Vallel are serious about one another, are you planning on letting them stay at the Tower? <Lisl> Heh. ::shakes her head:: I still say it's just a matter of time. <Zoya> ::looks at the lovebirds:: Glossaria lives at the tower, and I've made it clear on many occasions that she's a free woman. I suspect his aunt will have something to say about it if he tries to move in, but he's welcome as Glossaria's guest occasionally. <Marten> ::nods:: Very understanding of you, I think. <Zoya> ::looks back at Marten:: What other answer could there be? The Tower protects itself, so nothing is in danger of the boy's untried talents, and so long as Glossaria isn't neglecting her duties, her, ah... "private" life is none of my concern. <Lisl> ::looking at Marten, head cocked to one side:: You think Zoya would toss her out with no place to go? ::shakes her head:: Would the Tower even let you, Zoya? She was sort of born there, wasn't she? <Marten> ::raises an eyebrow:: She was born there? <Glossaria> ::taking a sip of her wine, blissfully unaware as she leans her head on Vallel's shoulder again:: <Zoya> ::smiles at Lisl:: I have no idea what the Tower would do in that case, Lisl. I *could* exercise a prerogative over *him*, but as long as they're not harming anything... ::shrug:: * Vallel dips a paperball in his glass of wine and offers it to Gloss <Zoya> ::nods to Marten, watching Gloss amusedly:: She used to be a, um, bookworm, actually. <Lisl> ::glancing at the boy:: Why would he harm anything? He's just a lad. <Marten> ::smiles:: Not to sound like an ogre Zoya, Lisl... I was more concerned for their desire - and your desire, Zoya - for privacy. <Zoya> He's a lad with untrained psionic talents, Lisl. Apparently he was sent up her for training after accidently setting a barn on fire at home. <Zoya> ::to Marten, more quietly:: As I said - I'm glad the Library is on the other side of the Tower. ::smiles:: <Glossaria> ::smiles and accepts it, lightly licking his finger and chewing:: Mmm... cherry! And with flowers in the paper... <Zoya> Besides, I'm a mage of no mean skill, Marten, and Gloss isn't half-bad when she puts her mind to it. If they - or I - need privacy, it's not hard to arrange. <Lisl> ::raises both eyebrows, taking another look at Vallel:: My, my...talk about not judging a book by its cover.... <Marten> ::nods:: Magery... I still forget about it, even when I'm surrounded by it. Of course, Zoya. Of course. <Zoya> ::smiles, and rests one hand on his arm briefly:: You'll get used to it. <Marten> ::smiles, and without thinking blurts out:: I hope so. <Lisl> ::sliding her mug back to her side of the table and taking a swallow from it:: That's right... you said there was no magery around where you came from, didn't you? <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Not that there isn't, no. Members of the brotherhood just avoid it whenever possible. Unless, of course, it suits their purposes. <Lisl> "Suits their purposes"? ::small frown:: How's that? <Zoya> ::looks serious at the turn of conversation:: <Marten> ::frowns:: For them, magic has its purposes. If the path to their needs is shortened significantly by employing a mage, then that take that path. Otherwise, they avoid the affairs of mages. <Lisl> Employing a mage... so none of them are mages themselves? ::her gaze sharpening a little:: <Lisl> And I see it's no longer "us" and "we"...it's "them." Did something else happen while I was gone? ::looking concerned:: <Marten> ::shakes his head:: No. Like I told Zoya last night, there are some clerics. More than you might think, actually. The brothers feel that nearly anyone can learn the basic clerical arts. <Marten> ::smiles at Lisl:: Something else happen? No, Lisl. I've just made a decision. <Zoya> ::smiles at Marten:: Which is to say, Lisl, that something *did* happen, but not the sort of thing you mean. <Lisl> ::brow clearing:: Ah, I see. I think. <Marten> ::laughs slightly at Lisl's confusion:: It's not that complicated, Lisl. The safety of the Tower has given me time to clear my mind and organize my thoughts. I've decided to stop running, and make my stand here. ::looks at Zoya, Lisl:: I've more friends here than any city since leaving Kara-Tur... * Glossaria lifts her head to take a sip of wine, and selects another "truffle" from the box, smiling up at Vallel as she does so. <Glossaria> I think I understand why the literature is so confused... I admit I've had a difficult time of it trying to put my experience into words that don't sound trite or meaningless... ::shakes her head, sounding wondering:: Words... failed me. <Lisl> Ahh. ::smiling:: I'm glad to see you finally understand that. Paranoia can be useful, I admit, but it's limiting, as well...it cuts you off. <Vallel> Well, ::looking at her:: I guess that's the only thing that did... <Glossaria> ::blushing and hiding her face in his sleeve:: <Marten> ::shakes his head:: It's not paranoia, Lisl. It's experience, and knowledge of what they can bring to bear if they so desire. You are now known as Rhys <Rhys> Last call, gentles. One more, and then out into the night with the lot of you. ::grinning:: <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: Trust me, I know about this. It's still paranoia, even if they *are* out to get you. It's fear of the odds, and fear of their strength. <Lisl> ::chuckling:: The night will never be safe. ::taking a long swallow of 'kick:: <Zoya> ::laughs and takes a deep drink of her remaining cider:: * Vallel digs out a small battered silver coin. <Marten> ::slides his plate across the bar, and stands:: I think that's my cue to retrieve my belongings from upstairs. ::to Zoya:: Wait a moment, and I'll escort you to the Tower. * Rhys waves off Vallel. "The underage aren't charged. Sorry." <Marten> ::walks upstairs:: <Zoya> Of course. ::watches Marten as he goes up the stairs, then downs the rest of her cider:: <Vallel> Aunt Nay said you were like that. <Glossaria> ::chuckles and emerges to finish her wine:: * Rhys smiles. "I'm glad." <Marten> ::descends the stairs, bundle over his shoulder. He walks toward Zoya, and extends an arm:: Milady, if it pleases you... <Lisl> ::turning to Zoya and fixing her with a Look:: So. I know what you *didn't* do, but what DID you do? Spill it! * Temire snores from were she's passed out on her chair. <Vallel> ::turns to Gloss:: May I walk you home, my lady? <Zoya> ::smiles at Lisl:: Why don't you join us over at the Tower for a drink, Lisl? You wouldn't say no to a nightcap, would you? <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Yes, please. Your company would be most welcome. <Glossaria> ::smiling and standing, tucking her little box safely into a pocket:: I would be delighted, my lord. <Vallel> ::whispers to Gloss:: Or maybe you could walk *me* home... looks like your home is going to get a bit crowded <Lisl> ::Raises an eyebrow at Marten:: Are you sure about that? Not that I'd ever say no to a nightcap... <Glossaria> Ooh! I've never slept outside of the Tower... do you think it would be safe? <Marten> ::laughs slightly:: Of course, Lisl! Don't be foolish! <Zoya> ::laughs, taking Marten's arm:: Come on, Lisl. I still have some of those dwarvish spirits. <Vallel> ::grins:: well, most of the rest of the world sleeps outside of the Tower, and most of the time, we're safe <Lisl> Heh. You're chicken, the both of you. ::shakes her head:: But I'm coming. ::finishes off her mug, and pats it on the rump:: <Marten> ::Marten motions toward the door with his bundle:: Milady Lisl, if you please.. <Glossaria> true, I suppose... umm... one moment. <Glossaria> ::moves over to Zoya:: Um...Mistress Zoya? <Zoya> ::frowns:: Chicken? What's that supposed to mean? <Zoya> Oh! ::turns to look at Rhys:: Is it all right if I settle up later, for the meal? <Zoya> Yes, Glossaria? <Marten> ::smiles at Zoya:: I think she senses we're trying to cover a non-existent conspiracy. <Lisl> Indeed. ::grabbing her heavy satchel from its peg by the door:: I have some books I wanted to share with you, at any rate. * Rhys waves off Zoya, as well. "Don't worry about it." <Glossaria> Um... might I... ::pauses, and takes a breath:: DoyouthinkitmightbealrightifIsleptoveratVallelspleaseI'llbecareful? <Marten> ::waves to Rhys:: You're a good man, and a fine barkeep Rhys. Many thanks. <Rhys> You're welcome, Marten. Be well. <Glossaria> ::looks up at Zoya hopefully, twisting her skirt in her hands:: <Zoya> ::eyes Glossaria, and then Vallel, somewhat sternly:: <Lisl> Oh, I wouldn't say non-existent...::chuckling a little as she glances at Glossaria:: At least *some* people are open about it.... <Glossaria> Please, Mistress Zoya, just one night, I promise! <Zoya> ::somewhat grudgingly, though her eyes are twinkling:: I suppose. Don't get into any trouble. <Marten> ::chuckles:: Indeed. <Glossaria> ::looking solemn:: I'll be *extra* careful with the fire wards. Thank you ever so much, Mistress! * Vallel blushes <Vallel> You don't need to worry about that. Mistress Tyl had me use up all my energy for that sort of thing... <Zoya> And mind you check with Nacheyla first, as well. <Marten> ::nudges Lisl and Zoya toward the door:: Ladies, methinks we're keeping Rhys from his task of closing the Hall. <Glossaria> ::breaks into a beaming smile, and rushes to Vallel's side, clinging to his arm:: Oh, I hope not. You do have *some* energy left, don't you? ::looking up at him slyly:: * Temire snores a bit louder. <Zoya> So we are. ::allows Marten to lead her out the door:: * Vallel grins sort of shamefacedly and escorts Gloss out of the Hall <Lisl> ::chuckles, allowing herself to be herded to the door, and pausing:: Hells...well, I promised. I'll be along in a bit, gentles. <Marten> ::looks at Gloss incredulously, and laughs as he starts out the door:: She doesn't know any subtlety, does she?!? * Rhys goes around the bar to Temire, and gently rests a hand on her shoulder. When he speaks, his voice is rather quiet. "Temire?" * Lisl moves back into the room and picks Temire up gently and easily, as if she were made of paper:: <Lisl> I'll take care of her, Rhys. <Rhys> If you're sure, Lisl. We have some rooms here. * Temire mutters in her sleep, "Michelle..." <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: No, I told her I'd get her home, and she'll be more comfortable in her own bed. <Rhys> Probably. Good night, Lisl. Take care. <Lisl> ::shouldering her satchel and shifting her grip to cradle the sleeping Temire in her arms:: Good night, Rhys. You know I will. ::grinning:: Someone has to. * Lisl exits, Temire tucked into her arms. * Rhys follows Lisl to the door, and locks it behind her. He waves a hand, and the lamps dim. He heads into the kitchen, and begins cleaning up. |
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