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* Nacheyla walks into the Hall, babyless for the evening, as Cheylon is spending time with his father again. She is dressed simply and her long hair is pulled back in a pony tail. She waves one hands absently at the fire and candles, whisking them to life. "Hall's Open." She moves behind the bar and pours herself a mug of warm cider. * Michelle enters wrapped in a black great coat, a white stocking cap on her head, "Okay, now it's getting cold." <Nacheyla> Good evening, Michelle... get you something? * Michelle removes the hat and stuffs it in a pocket of the coat before removing the coat revealing a simple white blouse and black skirt. Michelle hangs the coat by the door and approaches the bar. "Good evening Nacheyla. Cocoa would be wonderful. With maybe a shot of something minty." * Michelle perches on a stool and begins straightening her hair, "How have you been?" * Nacheyla fixes Michelle a hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps in it. * Kevil enters with his heavy cloak pulled tight around him. He pauses long enough to bow to the ladies in greeting, then heads to the fire to remove the cloak. Under it, he is wearing a cream-colored shirt of fine-woven wool over brown pants, topped with a suede jacket somewhere between brown and orange. He hangs his cloak by the fire, then crosses to the bar. "Good evening, Lady Michelle, Lady Nacheyla. I hope you are both well?" <Nacheyla> Here you are. Good evening, Kevil... something warming to drink? <Michelle> Thank you Nacheyla. ::Michelle turns:: Good evening Kevil. <Kevil> Yes, please. I would be grateful for mulled wine, if you would be so kind. * Nacheyla fixes Kevil a drink and hands it to him. "Here you are... getting a bit chilly, isn't it?" <Kevil> ::cupping his hands gratefully around the glass:: It has *been* a bit chilly, Lady. I think now we have moved on to *cold*. * Michelle giggles and lifts her mug, "No argument there Kevil." * Nacheyla laughs. "Oh, no... there are much colder climes, Kevil. This is just chilly." <Kevil> ::glares briefly at Nacheyla over his mug as he sips:: I really would not like to contemplate spending any amount of time in a place much colder, Lady, if it is all the same to you. * Michelle smiles and sips her cocoa. * Ragna stumps in, wearing her usual coarse woolens and leathers overlaid by a heavy leather apron dotted with scorch marks. Her braided hair and beard are tucked under the protection of the apron, and her cheeks are pink from the cold. "Evenin' all. Just need a bit of washin' up." She continues upstairs. <Kevil> ::nods cordially to Ragna as she enters, then turns back to his wine, sighing as it warms him:: * Nacheyla laughs at Kevil, just a bit. "Oh, almost forgot..." She wanders into the kitchen and returns shortly with several hollowed out bread-bowls and a crock of steaming stew. <Michelle> ::Michelle's smile brightens:: Now that's an admirable idea Nacheyla. * Nacheyla helps herself to a bowl and some stew. "Have some, if you like." * Michelle helps herself to the stew, "Thank you Nacheyla." * Kevil ladles some stew into a bowl and takes a bite. He sighs rapturously. "I am tempted to convert, my Lady." He grins at Nacheyla. * Ragna returns from upstairs after several minutes, face and hands fresh-scrubbed, apron gone, hair and beard neatly re-braided. She smiles and rubs her hands together briskly as she approaches the bar, producing a noise like sandpaper. "Now then... a mug of spirits would do me nicely, please, barkeep." <Nacheyla> ::laughs:: Let me know, if you do, Kevil. ::fills a mug with dwarven spirits and hands it to the sailor:: Good evening to you, Mistress Ragna. * Michelle sighs as she has some of the stew, "This is wonderful as always Nacheyla." <Ragna> And a good evening to ye as well. ::shaking her head:: Dunno what it is the townfolk do to their pots and pans over week's-end. Throw them at each other, belike. We had more repairs to work on today than we had last week entire. <Nacheyla> Thank you... I was looking through the cold-room the other day and thought we should use up the last of Lisl's venison before it got too ice-burned. * Kevil eats hungrily, stopping occasionally for a sip of warmed wine. <Ragna> Venison stew, is it? ::raises bushy eyebrows:: How much for a bowl, then? <Nacheyla> ::smiles:: I'm feeling Rhysish today. It's on the house. After all, we did really need to eat it before it went over. * Michelle giggles at Nacheyla's comment before having some more cocoa. <Ragna> ::grins wide:: Dunno how the owner keeps a roof over our heads, but no complaints from this quarter. ::climbs up on a stool and snags a trencher, ladling out a bowl of stew and sniffing appreciatively:: * Kevil finishes his bowl - down to the last crumb of bread - and sighs happily. "That was wonderful, Lady. My most sincere compliments." <Nacheyla> Anytime, Kevil... I don't get much chance to cook these days... neither Cheylon nor his father particularly like their meat... cooked. * Michelle smiles and shakes her head, "That's good enough for Xarroch, but I'd think Cheylon needs to learn the skill if only so he can fit in." * Kevil makes a face. "I enjoy rare meat, but *un*cooked..." He shakes his head with a faint grin. "At least I am not so squeamish about it as Loria. I thought she would swear off hunting with Diya, after that first incident..." <Nacheyla> ::raises an eyebrow:: And what does your husband do that so offends her? * Michelle quirks an eyebrow at Kevil. <Kevil> ::shrugs and grins:: Shares his catch with his bond-bird, a bit. <Nacheyla> ::snickers:: Don't let her go hunting with Lisl, then. * Michelle giggles. <Kevil> ::laughs:: I am certain she has reached that conclusion on her own. * Ragna frowns faintly. "Uncooked? Completely? Are they all..." She waves a hand vaguely eastward. "Foreign folk, then?" She mutters half-to-herself, "Thought that was fish, though, mostly." * Nacheyla sits down on her stool, picking up her spoon. "You've met my son, Mistress Ragna. I daresay you can draw conclusions about what his father's like." <Kevil> ::grins:: And Lisl and Diya are... hunters, each with their own traditions. I do not, myself, pretend to understand them. <Ragna> Ah-- aye. My apologies, m'lady. ::colors faintly, covering it with a hasty spoonful of stew:: <Ragna> ::washes down the stew with a hefty swallow of spirits:: Oh, rangers? Well, that explains it. We had one buy passage once, wouldn't *touch* meat. Not even fish or good fresh eggs-- not that we had eggs too long out of port. Right odd. ::shakes her head and has another spoonful of stew:: <Kevil> ::grins even more widely and takes a sip of his wine:: * Michelle finishes her stew, "Oh, it's probably a good thing you moved out Nacheyla or none of my dresses would fit me." <Nacheyla> ::laughs:: Right odd is a good description of Lisl. ::to Michelle:: Oh, I lived with you for over a year and your waistline hasn't make any moves in either direction, dear. * Kevil almost flinches at the word "waistline", looks around furtively, then relaxes with a sheepish look. * Michelle laughs, "You're supposed to just accept the compliment. Or point out that despite both of our attempts Temire still can't handle much beyond camp food." <Ragna> ::glances at Kevil with a grin:: Yer lady getting a mite sensitive about her girth? <Kevil> One might say that, yes... <Nacheyla> Although one might want to say so out of her hearing... * Michelle smiles and sips her cocoa. <Kevil> ::grinning weakly at Nach:: One might discover that mentioning a need to have one's *own* clothes tailored might get one summarily dismissed from one's own house for the evening. <Nacheyla> ::sniggers:: I can relate... I remember being distinctly grumpy on several occasions when I couldn't fit in the saddle, pregnant. <Ragna> ::chuckles and waves a hand:: Ah, happens to most. She's not so badly off. My cousin, now... *she* carried twins, Sharindlar bless. Was literally wider than she were tall for two solid months, poor lass. * Michelle giggles, "Do you have a place to stay Kevil or are you going to sneak back in after she's calmed down?" <Kevil> Twins! Now there's a- ::he breaks off and stares at Ragna, then looks at Nacheyla beseechingly:: Twins? * Michelle looks confused between Kevil and Nach. * Ragna blinks at Kevil. "What'd I say? Where I'm from, twins're a blessing. They're rare, they are, not that singles are so easy to come by, themselves. Beg yer pardon, if I misspoke." <Nacheyla> ::raises one eyebrow:: It *does* run in the family, Kev. I had two sets of twins and one set of triplets myself. ::she takes a sip of her cider:: * Ragna gapes openly at Nacheyla, absently counting off on her fingers. <Kevil> ::laughs shakily:: Oh, Bright Lady... ::he looks at Michelle with a crooked grin:: Do you remember, Lady, almost a year ago, when we were gifted with a glimpse of other places and... and times? * Michelle nods, "How could I forget, that was when I found the way to my own daughter." <Nacheyla> ::looks to Ragna:: Before you start counting up, Cheylon is my thirty-eighth child. <Kevil> My own vision included a view of me with two - twin - girls. ::he looks at Nacheyla with a vague sort of suspicion, as if she might have arranged it:: <Ragna> Thir... thir... how... ::blinks a little stupidly, mouth hanging open:: By the gods! * Michelle giggles at Ragna's comment. <Nacheyla> ::shrugs at Kevil:: Well, if there are two, you could try and send one back, I suppose. Don't think it'll do you much good, however. ::to Ragna:: Indeed. <Kevil> ::grins:: I doubt Loria would allow the attempt... Not that I would even consider it! I am only... *Twins*... ::he shakes his head and rather absently finishes off his wine:: * Michelle smiles at Kevil, "If it's twins then you can count yourself doubly lucky that you have Master Diya to help you." <Kevil> ::laughs:: I never doubted that we were fortunate in having found Diya. But yes, an extra pair of hands will be an added benefit to having expanded our circle. * Ragna eyes are round, her face awed. "*Lady.*" Her tone is very respectful, and her fingers scrabble against her hair briefly for a nonexistent cap. "Sharindlar bless... my apologies, ye'll be pouring it yerself, but... drinks tonight are on me. Anything ye like, lady." She adds in an awed whisper, "Thirty-*eight*!" * Michelle smiles mischievously, "But I warn you, you're only getting one quilt." Shakes a finger menacingly at Kevil. <Nacheyla> ::smiles and refills her cider mug:: Thank you, Mistress Ragna... ::raises her mug:: * Ragna raises her own mug with a broad smile and toasts Nacheyla, drinking deep. <Kevil> ::bows rather extravagantly to Michelle:: We shall treasure it as we do our friendship with its maker, Lady Michelle. * Michelle lifts her mug to Ragna's toast, then returns Kevil's bow while staying on the stool, "You're most welcome Kevil." * Nacheyla fingers the three plain gold bands on her left hand. * Michelle smiles sadly, looking at Nacheyla's rings. <Ragna> ::taking another swallow of spirits, her voice soft:: You've... lived long, for a human, then, Lady? <Kevil> ::smirks slightly:: <Nacheyla> ::nods:: A bit longer than average, yes. ::gives Kevil a mild glower:: <Kevil> ::gives Nacheyla his most charming smile:: <Genin> ::the heavy door opens with a surprising creek, allowing the caged, warm air its escape. A man enters the room, perhaps a bit hesitantly, then turns to shut the portal.:: <Ragna> ::nods:: Yer continued health, then, and as many more children as ye can manage. ::grins and lifts her mug again before drinking:: * Michelle turns to see who has entered, sipping her cocoa as she does so. <Nacheyla> ::looks over:: Good evening, stranger. My name's Nacheyla, the bar-keep for the evening. Can I get you a drink? * Kevil turns to glance at the newcomer, and nods cordially. <Genin> ::A large grey sack slung over the man's shoulder and lays upon his back. The dark green cloak is dusty, with a bit of fraying along its bottom edge.:: <Genin> ::the man turns at the greeting and regards the occupants:: <Genin> Hello Nacheyla. ::he walks to the bar, smiling:: I am Genin and I was told that I might find some warmth here. <Nacheyla> ::grins:: Pleasure to meet you. <Genin> :: He holds up two pieces of gold :: Might this purchase me a drink and an hour or two in a chair? * Michelle giggles, "Now to see how Rhysish she's really feeling." <Nacheyla> First drink is always on the house... it's traditional ::waves her hand absently at his coins:: And sitting's free. <Genin> Well then, it seems my directions were good ones indeed! <Nacheyla> ::gestures at the trencher bread and crock of venison stew:: And there's dinner, too, if you've a mind. That's also on the house. ::hands Genin a goblet of mulled wine:: * Genin sits back and sips whatever is served him, and listens. * Kevil stands briefly to offer Genin a neat bow. "Kevil Talarin, Master Bard, at your service, sir. May I ask - are you new to Marsember?" * Ragna grins, a flash of white teeth in a dark face. "Good directions... just be warned, place has a reputation as an adventurer's bar. Pleasant, peaceable enough folk, though, from what I've seen so far." She offers a hand. "Ragna Irontongue, and well met, stranger." <Genin> I am indeed Master Bard Kevil. I am quite new to your city, though it seems :: He looks around the room:: that I've been in this hall before. ::He smiles again:: <Genin> An...adventurer's bar? <Kevil> ::laughs:: It would be more true to say, Lady Ragna, that adventure seeks us out here. <Nacheyla> ::laughs:: At least in this room, there are three adventurers, either by choice ::points to herself:: or by happenstance ::to Kevil:: or by sheer need of wealth ::to Michelle:: <Ragna> ::grins:: I'm naught but a poor sailor. The deeps bring adventure enough for me. <Genin> I see. <Genin> Do you mind if I sketch? * Michelle nods to Genin with a smile, "Michelle Phoenix. Welcome to Marsember and the Meade Hall." <Kevil> You draw, do you? ::grins widely:: I must remember to introduce you to my wife's brother, then. <Genin> Hello Michelle, thank you very much. I am Genin Doccord of Chybisa * Michelle giggles, "Hey, it's not my fault." * Michelle smiles to Genin, "I have no objections to you sketching, but I can speak only for myself." <Kevil> ::grins:: By all mean, Master Genin. <Ragna> ::shrugs a shoulder:: Suit yerself. Just be sure to get my good side. ::chuckles:: Whichever that may be. <Genin> I dabble I suppose, I am no artist. * Michelle giggles, "The business side of a hammer perhaps Ragna?" <Ragna> ::muses:: Cybisa... ::shakes her head:: Don't know that port. <Genin> Oh...its...far away. ::he smiles again:: <Ragna> ::chuckles at Michelle's comment, picking up her mug again for another swallow:: Nay, lass, that'd be m'bad side. * Nacheyla shakes her head, smiling faintly. "Draw away, Master Genin." * Michelle raises her mug to Ragna in a toast, "To your health." <Genin> ::Genin takes a scroll out of his sack and a bit of charcoal, then begins to sketch the room and its inhabitants. <Ragna> And yers. ::smiles and takes another swallow:: <Ragna> ::with a gleam in her eye:: Puts me in mind of a game from home. <Kevil> What game would that be, Lady Ragna? <Genin> ::Genin looks up from his sketching eager to learn of this game:: <Ragna> ::grins:: No name for it, that I know. But... get a bunch of the lads together, and soon enough, they're toasting each other. And o'course, for a toast, everyone drinks. First one who can't come up with a toast, or who falls over... well, he loses. All the rounds are on him, poor soul. * Michelle giggles. <Ragna> ::taps the side of her nose:: Word to the wise... careful 'bout raising your glass too high in a dwarven alehouse. <Kevil> ::laughs:: <Genin> Forgive me for asking Lady Ragna, but are the Khuzdul common in these parts? <Kevil> Khuzdul? <Genin> ::Genin turns towards the bard:: errr... dwarves? * Ragna frowns thoughtfully before shaking her head. "I'm not from these parts, precisely. But it's not a tribe I've come across, m'self." <Kevil> Ah. ::thoughtfully:: Khuzdul... interesting. ::glances up at Genin with a smile:: This is a port city - there are a fair number of any sort of folk to be found here. <Genin> I see. <Ragna> ::making a moue of surprise:: Hmp. Not a name for the people I've heard before, either. Ye *do* come from a ways off, I reckon. But if ye mean dwarves... my kind aren't too common anywhere in Faerun, these days. But not so uncommon either, I think. ::grins:: I can walk down these streets without getting stared at, if that's yer meaning. <Genin> No no..::he holds his hands up:: I was wondering...er...well you see where I am from the dwarves are not so numerous. In fact all that I have ever heard of are from a single kingdom, and most of those from a single city. <Genin> I thought perhaps such a kingdom may be close by and I should like to visit it if I may. * Kevil cocks his head curiously. "They are extremely rare where I am from, as well, though they congregate there in small clan groups, not kingdoms." * Nacheyla stares thoughtfully into the distance, absently kicking her heel against her stool rhythmically. <Nacheyla> Oh! ::seeming to come around:: I'm sorry to interrupt your discussion, Master Genin, Mistress Ragna, but it's getting about closing time. <Genin> I am no scholar of the dwarves, I know only of the kingdom. * Kevil looks up with a start. "So it is." He heads over to the fire to retrieve his cloak with a sigh. "Time to see if Diya has persuaded Loria to allow me back into the house..." He offers Nacheyla a quick grin. <Genin> Is it then? :: Genin stands:: I thank you all for your hospitality <Nacheyla> Good luck, Kevil... ::waves to him, then begins shooing the dishes into the kitchen:: * Michelle finishes her cocoa, "Thank you Nacheyla. It's been a lovely evening." <Ragna> ::looks faintly alarmed, making a superstitious warding gesture with the fingers of her left hand:: Clangeddin spare us such loss... nay, it's not come to that, here. But... nay, nothing... *close* that I can think on... and my kind aren't the most... hospitable sort to outsiders, these days. ::shrugs:: Depends, really. Like any human town, I suppose. * Kevil bows to Genin as he dons his cloak with a swirl. "Please, do return Master Genin. I hope we will be able to exchange tales, d'va?" * Michelle waves to Kevil as well, "I've got plenty of spare rooms if Diya hasn't persuaded Loria." <Ragna> Best of luck, Master Kevil. ::waves:: <Genin> Thank you Kevil..I should like to hear a story or two. * Michelle retrieves her coat, closing it tightly around her before pulling her stocking cap from the pocket and pulling it onto her head, "Goodnight everyone. It was a pleasure meeting you Genin." <Genin> Lady Ragna...A good night to you then...I pray my questions were not impertinent. <Genin> The pleasure was mine Michelle. <Genin> Nacheyla...do you know of a nearby inn where I might find lodgings? * Michelle exits the Hall. <Ragna> ::finishes off her mug of spirits, wrapping a crust of bread in a napkin to take with her:: Nay, nay. ::grin:: Not t'me, at the least. Well met, Master Genin. ::offers a small bow from her stool:: * Nacheyla gestures to the stairs. "We have five rooms standing empty at present, if you'd care for one of them. Three silver for a week." <Kevil> ::grins at Michelle:: I think all will be well. She is often irritable, but does not hold her anger long, d'va? ::He bows again, sweeping the room, and clutches his cloak close to his chest as he slips out into the night.:: <Genin> ::he smiles back at her:: well met indeed! * Nacheyla watches Kevil go. "A very good thing for Loria, I think, that Kevil thinks she's *cute* when she's grouchy." <Ragna> ::grins:: Aye. And that he seems fond of wee ones. ::opening her belt pouch:: What's the reckoning, Lady Nacheyla? My honor to cover it. <Nacheyla> ::does some quick mental math:: How does five silver sound, to cover the stew and all drinks? <Genin> ::Genin stands hoping for some directions:: * Nacheyla reaches under the bar and pulls out a tab of wood with two silver keys. "This one's your door, that one's to the main Hall. Second door on the left." <Ragna> ::grins:: Sounds like th'owner's too generous for his own good. ::digs a piece of electrum out of her pouch and tosses it on the bar:: Keep the change. <Genin> Thank you Nacheyla. ::Genin hands the money over and takes the keys. Tucking his scroll under his arm and throwing his sack over his shoulder, he trudges up the stairs.:: <Nacheyla> ::drops the coins into the lockbox:: Don't worry about that, Mistress Ragna. We've a patron who insists on dumping a fortune on us about once a year or so, although he's been gone for quite a while this time. <Ragna> Well then, buy your wee one a nice steak on me. ::grins and waves cheerily, folded napkin in hand:: Night, then. * Ragna heads up the stairs after Genin and down the hall to her room. * Nacheyla bows to Ragna and finishes cleaning the bar area. "Good night." She wipes down the bartop, locks the door and puts out the lights before opening that strange hole in the universe that leads to Xarroch's home. |
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