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* Nacheyla walks in, looking a bit tired. Cheylon is tucked in his carrypack on her back, but as soon as she enters the Hall, she sets him down to run around. * Nacheyla walks behind the bar, lighting the candles and fire as she goes. Cheylon gurgles and wanders over to play under a chair, running awkwardly. <Nacheyla> Hall's open... ::she sits on a stool and pours herself a tall glass of clear liquor:: * Jaret strolls in, removing his cloak before he's completely crossed over the doorway and tossing it on a peg as he passes. "Lady Nacheyla, a shining elegance, like the first star of the evening, I greet you with widespread arms and much joy. How do you fare?" * Ragna enters, looking grimier and more tired than usual. She brightens a little at seeing the "priestess" and her son, nodding to the little group before heading to the washroom. * Nacheyla gives Jaret an excessively sour look. "Evening, Master of Eloquence and bullpucky. Can I get you something to drink tonight?" * Tarri comes in, draped in a wool cape dyed bright blue. Underneath, she's wearing her usual healer-in-training belted tunic and pants, the effect dressed up slightly by a strand of pearls at her throat. She pauses to crouch by Cheylon's chair and smile at his play before heading on to the bar. "Good evening, Lady Nacheyla, Lord Jaret." <Jaret> Oh, dear, it's as if my own sainted father had never left town. A glass of Arabellan, if you please? I've had enough brandy to warm myself with already this winter, and wish to have something truly satisfying to drink. * Meghan walks in balancing a unhappy looking Abby on her hip. Once inside she sets the girl on the floor. Abby stands there pouting as Meghan hangs up her cloak. * Nacheyla roots around under the bar before coming out with a dusty bottle, the label teetering on the verge of being unreadable. "How's this one suit you?" She hands the bottle to Jaret to look over. * Temire enters in her usual shirt and breeches, her sword at her side as she hangs her cloak on a peg, "Good evening everyone." <Nacheyla> ::looks over towards the door:: Evening, girls... get you a drink? <Tarri> Some hot cider, please? <Jaret> For this, you may slander my compliments all night long, for I'll know how you really feel about me. * Temire smiles and walks over to give Tarri a quick hug, "How's it going Tarri? I haven't seen you since the ball." * Temire ponders Nacheyla's question for a moment, "Regular cider for me please." <Tarri> Oh, fine. Did you enjoy the ball? <Nacheyla> ::laughs and takes the bottle of wine to open it for him:: I adore you, Jaret, you should know that... but I'm afraid I'm not up to much flowery language tonight. Cheylon's teething, and by that, I really mean *teething*. Don't let him bite you. * Nacheyla pours Tarri a mug of hot cider, garnishing it with a stick of cinnamon. "Here you are, dear." * Meghan heads to the bar, glancing once over her shoulder at the pouting Abby. She settles onto a stool. "Mulled cider please." * Nacheyla fixes Temire a plain cider. <Tarri> Thank you. ::sips the cider gingerly:: <Nacheyla> Cider seems to be the drink of the evening, indeed... ::she prepares Meghan a mulled cider:: Here you are. <Meghan> Thank you ::She smiles:: How are you Nach? <Nacheyla> I'm exhausted, thanks for asking. ::she smiles limply:: <Jaret> I hadn't planned on it, Lady, but thank you for the additional warning. I'll do my best to keep my extremities to myself around him. ::he turns:: Miss Mandeil, and Temire, a pleasure to see the both of you again. <Tarri> ::smiles warmly at Jaret:: How have you been, m'lord? * Temire smiles and nods her head enthusiastically, "Very much. Agnes thought I'd hit my head went I told her that the only down side to the evening was not finding her there." * Ragna returns from the washroom, face pink, eyebrows black and somewhat scanty-looking. A few hairs of her beard, closest to her chin, are likewise crisped. "Evenin' all. Priestess, a mug o' yer porter, if ye please. Gods o' the deeps, it's been a long day." * Meghan nods to Nach and sips her drink. "I understand." * Nacheyla pours Ragna a mug of porter. "Here you are, Mistress Ragna..." <Jaret> Oh, I wouldn't dare complain. My father has returned to parts known, with the threat that he's left behind people to report on my activities. I'm still deciding whether or not to actually believe him or not. All in all, things have been quite pleasant. <Tarri> ::grins at Temire:: You looked like you were having fun. <Ragna> My thanks. ::clambering up onto a stool and leaning her elbows on the bar as she takes a swig:: <Tarri> ::laughs at Jaret's report:: Would it change anything if he *did* have people spying on you? * Temire returns the grin, "So did you." <Meghan> ::Abby wanders over near Chey. She sits and watches him:: <Tarri> ::fingers her necklace and smiles a little dreamily:: It's been a long time since I got to dress up and go dancing. <Nacheyla> ::eyes Jaret:: And I thought *I* was a nosy parent... <Jaret> Oh, of course not. One must stay true to ones own self. To do otherwise would be to dabble in falseness and duplicity, and I wouldn't dream of such. <Tarri> ::giggles:: I wonder if Papa or Master Bran would accept that sort of reasoning when I wandered off daydreaming in the middle of my lessons... <Jaret> Good evening, Miss Meghan Lore. How has your new friend been treating you? I notice Miss Abagail is a touch out of sorts today. Everything all right with her? <Jaret> ::to Tarri, grinning:: There's really only one way to find out, isn't there? Nothing ventured, nothing gained! * Temire gives Tarri a one armed hug, "I can make sure you get an invitation when Agnes and her husband throw their next ball if you want." <Meghan> ::Smiles to Jaret:: Trey is treating me very well thank you. Abby is ::She glances to her daughter:: mad at me at the moment. <Ragna> ::shakes her head:: Ye'll get the lass in trouble, Lord Jaret. <Tarri> ::flashes Temire a quick smile:: That would be nice. <Tarri> ::giggles at Ragna's comment:: Oh, no. I get in plenty of trouble on my own. Lord Jaret's not likely to get me into more trouble than I'd already be in, anyway. * Nacheyla sits down on her stool, takes a long swallow of liquor, flinches and coughs once. * Jaret looks over to Ragna. "Technically, she'd be getting herself in trouble, but only if they disagree with her. There's always the possibility they might agree with my philosophy." * Ragna raises a skeptical eyebrow at Jaret as she takes another swallow of beer. * Meghan smirks and shakes her head. * Temire grins, "So Jaret, since I can't get into any more trouble with my family, can you give me any pointers to make certain my little sister's suitors behave themselves?" <Cheylon> ::crawls around under the stools of the Patrons:: <Tarri> ::grins at Temire:: First, you have to hope your sisters *want* them to behave. <Jaret> I've never had any sisters, Temire. Most often I was in the suitor's place in that social equation, and I do have to say that blustering and threats only rarely had any effect. I hadn't ever really considered the dilemma. * Jaret picks his feet up into the higher rungs of his stool, away from the teething half-demon/half-godchild baby. * Ragna glances down at the adventuring Cheylon, hooking her feet a little higher up on the rungs as a precaution. * Temire grins, "Well Merri and I are trying to work something out for that. I don't have to worry about Nessie since she's already married." <Meghan> ::Abby watches Chey crawl away and stands. She looks around and then wanders to the bar. Seeing Jaret she goes to lean against the stool he is siting on, still watching Chey:: <Tarri> Speaking of suitors and blustering... ::grins at Nacheyla:: Have you heard anything from Polla at all lately? I had a letter from her around Midwinter, and nothing since. <Cheylon> ::looking a bit cross, he starts gnawing on the bottom rung of Jaret's stool:: <Ragna> ::looking alarmed:: Ahh... Lord Jaret...? ::clears her throat and nods towards the lower portion of his stool:: <Jaret> Cheylon? Master Cheylon? I really wouldn't do that. Splinters aren't going to be soothing. And you're not a beaver. * Temire perks up to listen to the news on Polla. <Nacheyla> ::groans:: Merciful dragons! ::she gets up and goes to rescue her son, or the stool, it's not entirely certain which:: <Ragna> Ah! Da-- er, darn near forgot... 'scuse me a moment. ::slips down from her stool and hurries upstairs:: <Nacheyla> Chey.... ::fishes around in her pocket for a while and pulls out a thick ring, somewhat larger than an apple:: Here, chew on that. ::she hands the ring to her son, who gnaws on it experimentally:: <Meghan> ::Abby look up and reaches to tug on Jaret's pant leg:: * Jaret looks down. "Well, good evening, Miss!" He sets his wine down on the bar, leans over, one leg twined behind him on the stool for balance, and picks Abby up. "How fare thee, fair maid? Have you been well?" <Ragna> Here we are, then! ::emerges from her room again, triumphantly bearing a smallish box of hammered tin, perhaps six inches on a side, painted bright green:: <Meghan> ::Abby snuggles against Jaret and then glances around at the faces at the bar:: * Jaret hugs Abby, and kisses her on the cheek. * Nacheyla sits Cheylon back on the floor, who continues to gnaw on the ring. * Meghan watches Ragna curiously. * Temire sips her cider, half in thought and half listening to the conversations. * Tarri watches Cheylon with a faint smile. * Ragna descends the stairs, crossing to the bar again and pausing near Cheylon, her eyes on Nacheyla. "It's... what I mentioned a few weeks afore. For the young lad." She nods to Cheylon. "Mind if I give it to him now?" <Nacheyla> ::smiles:: Oh, please... anything to distract him... I'll be *eternally* grateful. <Meghan> ::Abby watches Ragna and the box. One arm is wrapped around Jaret as she leans close to the bar:: * Temire tries to suppress a giggle. <Ragna> Right, then. ::setting the box on the floor next to Chey and opening it by pressing a spring-loaded catch. A bumpy ovoid of burnished, bright blue metal sits nestled in straw inside the box.:: Here, lad, this is for you to play with. Just tap 'im on the head twice to wake 'im up. ::pointing to the wider end of the egg-like shape with a stubby finger:: * Nacheyla goes back behind the bar and picks up her glass. Quite suddenly, she blinks at Tarri. "I'm sorry, dear... you said something to me earlier, and I completely forgot about it. I'm awfully distracted. What was it?" * Jaret carefully keeps Abby out of arm's reach of the box. <Cheylon> ::wanders over to look into the box:: wazit? <Tarri> Oh, I just asked if you'd heard from Polla. ::smiles:: It was about the time Lord Jaret's stool turned into a snack, though, so I wasn't sure you'd heard me. <Ragna> ::grins:: Tap 'im on the head twice, and you'll find out. Go ahead, 'e won't bite. <Meghan> ::Abby watches, fascinated:: <Nacheyla> Oh... ::snickers into her hand:: She's doing quite well, last I heard. Kristo went home and spent two weeks there, with his entourage, so she was quite pleased. Kris... was less so. <Tarri> ::giggles:: Oh! Well, *that* would explain why she hasn't written in a bit. <Cheylon> ::knocks rapidly on the metal egg a few times:: Too! * Temire giggles. <Ragna> ::at the second rap, a click sounds inside the egg, followed by a soft whirring. Metal eyelids click back from two of the bumps, revealing big, black-and-gold eyes. The object springs out of the box with a whirr and lands in front of Cheylon in a squat, grinning broadly as only frogs can grin (even mechanical ones). It ribbits.:: <Nacheyla> I understand that Polla and Winnie conspired together to make an exceptionally scandalous dress... ::laughs:: <Cheylon> ::startled, he sits down hard:: Beyar! * Temire giggles, "Lucky for Kristo Deanna hasn't found Khymrych yet." * Ragna blinks. "It's a frog, lad." <Meghan> ::Abby's eyes widen and she looks to Jaret before looking back at the toy:: No fog <Cheylon> ::firmly:: Beyar! <Abby> ::Shakes her head and replies simply:: No. Fog <Nacheyla> ::sighs:: Don't bother, Mistress Ragna... someone thought it was cute to convince him that bears were frogs and frogs bears. I haven't been able to talk him out of the notion. <Ragna> ::looks from Chey to the frog and blinks again, shrugging:: Well, ye can name it as ye like, lad. It's yers. <Cheylon> ::picks up the toy:: Fanksis. ::he stands up:: Kisses? ::toddles over to the dwarven woman:: * Jaret chuckles. "That's going to be interesting, later in life, when he gets taken bear hunting or gigging for frogs. He's liable to dress completely inappropriately for the situation." <Tarri> ::giggles:: I should hope that by then, he'll be old enough to understand that someone played a joke on him. * Temire giggles at Jaret's comment. <Meghan> ::Abby points to the toy:: Wanna play <Jaret> It's Cheylon's toy, Abby, and he just got it. He may want to play with it himself for a while. <Ragna> ::glancing at Meghan:: I've a duck in the works for the young miss, but I've not got all the kinks worked out yet. ::mutters:: Bloody thing keeps trying to swim upside-down... ::turns her attention back to Chey with a smile:: Yer most welcome, lad. Abby> ::She pouts and reaches harder for it:: Wanna play! * Meghan smiles and nods. "Thank you." <Cheylon> ::rather wetly plants a kiss on Ragna's cheek, being not that much shorter:: Fanksis! <Ragna> ::the frog kicks its back legs a little as Cheylon picks it up, before settling into his hands:: <Meghan> Abagail ::Meghan looks to Abby firmly:: It's Chey's toy. * Jaret "aims" Abby at Meghan, so she gets the full motherly force of the instruction. <Meghan> ::Abby's chin quivers and she begins to cry:: <Tarri> ::looks amused at Abby's tantrum:: She's certainly in a mood tonight. * Temire turns to Ragna, "So how are things going with Adam and the smithy?" <Cheylon> ::sits down on the floor and puts the frog down:: Dzump! ::he thumps the ground behind the frog:: <Ragna> ::smiles broadly, quite obviously touched:: And thank *you*, Master Cheylon. ::nods to the frog:: Ye turn 'im off by pushing 'is belly button. * Jaret gently bounces Abby in his arms. "Now... there there. Abby, don't cry. It's not all that bad." * Meghan sighs "It's been an all day thing I am afraid" <Ragna> ::The frog leaps away from Chey's fist as he thumps the floor:: <Cheylon> ::laughs with delight, crawling after the toy:: <Meghan> ::Abby takes gulping breaths as she watches Chey and the frog:: <Jaret> ::to Meghan:: Did anything start this, or did she wake up on the wrong side of the crib? <Nacheyla> Oh, that's very clever... and it doesn't squash quite so easily, either. ::she smiles:: Thank you very much, Mistress Ragna. <Ragna> Now then, Mistress Abagail, ye'll have one of yer own to play with soon enough. Give the lad a chance... ye already *have* a frog, do ye not? <Ragna> ::smiles up at Nach, getting to her feet again and climbing back up onto her stool to reclaim her beer:: Most welcome. Part of it was just t'see if I could *do* it. Fun fer me, too. <Meghan> She's become very possessive lately. All day she has been getting into fights with the other children over toys and such. <Ragna> And the shell's dwarven steel, so nay, it won't squash so easy. <Jaret> Oh.. now, Abby. That's no way for a precious young lady to behave. ::his continues to bounce her and hold her:: <Tarri> ::watches Chey and the frog with shining eyes:: How much would such a commission cost, Mistress Ragna? There's a little girl of my acquaintance... ::she grins:: <Meghan> ::Abby whimpers and turns to rub her face against Jaret's chest snuggling close to him:: <Ragna> ::takes a long swallow of beer and turns to Tarri:: Now then... sorry. Th'smithy's well enough... today was no treat, though. Forge backblew in all the damned-- er-- darned wind, and I near to lost my eyebrows altogether. <Cheylon> ::chases the frog all the way around the Hall:: Ma, dzumps! * Temire giggles, "Do we get a discount if we order in bulk?" <Nacheyla> Yes, dear, I see that it jumps... * Jaret discreetly plucks a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleans Abby's face and then his clothes from the damp leavings from her tantrum. "That's a good girl..." <Meghan> ::Abby looks back to Chey, settling into a pout and whimpers softly:: wanna play <Jaret> ::looking to Meghan:: Do you have any of her toys with you? <Ragna> And as to cost... ::tugs lightly on her beard, frowning a little, before shrugging:: Depends what ye want, n'how long it takes me, I s'pose. Th'frog was lots of tinkering and half-remembering my uncle's old tricks. Let me get the lass's duck finished so I can work out the rest of the kinks, and we'll take then, aye? <Cheylon> ::picks the frog up and bites it, experimentally. He makes a very disgusted face and puts it back down immediately:: Byick! * Meghan shakes her head. "No." <Ragna> ::grins a little, calling over to Cheylon:: He's not for eating, lad. * Temire smiles, "Alright." <Tarri> ::nods:: Oh, please. If it's any help - I want a magpie. ::her eyes twinkle:: <Nacheyla> He tries to eat *everything* these days. ::she heaves a great sigh:: Bad habit he learned from his father... <Tarri> ::laughs:: I've never seen a teething baby that didn't try to chew on just about everything it could get its hands on... <Jaret> Oh, dear then. Have to improvise, I suppose. ::he reaches into his pouch and pulls out a silver piece:: Abby, have you seen my magical coin? ::he sets Abby on one leg, holding her with his left arm, and makes the coin 'walk' across the knuckles of his right hand, drawing it across his palm with his thumb, and then across his knuckles again:: * Temire tilts her head in thought, "I don't know what Ilya would like. As near as I can tell she likes any small animal that stays still long enough for her to pick it up." Temire smiles. <Ragna> Hm... hopping, walking, swimming, slithering, those I've got down... not tried flying yet... Not sure if I could do it in... ::mutters to herself and pulls a well-used, leather-bound scratchpad out of her pocket, making quick sketches and notes:: <Tarri> Well, it wouldn't really *have* to fly. She'd probably be delighted if it could just walk a little and flap its wings. <Ragna> Ach, that'd be easy. Flying, that's a challenge. ::grins, a sparkle in her eye:: * Nacheyla takes another sip out of her nearly empty glass. <Tarri> ::grins:: Well, you're the artist, of course. * Temire giggles, "Now you've done it Tarri. She's probably going to go without sleep trying to figure that out." <Tarri> ::laughs:: I'm such a troublemaker. ::she sips her cider, obviously unrepentant:: <Ragna> Ah, 'm not that bad. ::grins at Temire and closes her notepad again, pocketing it:: Not like Adam and those d-- darned claws. <Meghan> ::Abby watches the coin, fascinated. After a moment she smiles and claps:: * Temire shakes her head, "Can he and Felice still not agree on a design?" <Cheylon> ::picking up his frog by one back leg, he toddles over to Abby:: Izzoo want beyah? * Jaret stops with the coin tricks and sets Abby down on the floor, near Cheylon. * Ragna glances at Cheylon with a grin, muttering to herself, "Knew the corded joints were a good idea..." <Meghan> ::Abby watches Chey and reaches to poke at the frog:: Fog <Ragna> ::looking back at Temire with a bit of an eye-roll:: Nay. She wants style, he wants substance. He says they're going a-huntin' dragons, I'd take *his* side. <Cheylon> ::setting his jaw stubbornly:: beyah! <Ragna> ::the frog ribbits again as Abby pokes it:: <Meghan> ::Abby shakes her head, looking very much the big sister:: No. Itsa fog. <Cheylon> ::pouting:: S' beyah. * Temire nods, "Actually, they're not so much hunting a dragon as trying to be ready when the dragon comes hunting them. But yes, I'd tend to agree with you. I still think they should just go on a quest to find something they're both happy with, but that's not exactly easy either. <Meghan> ::Abby looks to Meg:: Mama? * Nacheyla looks down at the two children. "Oh, my aching head." <Temire> " * Meghan chuckles and nods. <Ragna> ::looking alarmed:: Hunting *them*? What'd they do to get a dragon hunting *them*? Haul off its hoard while it slept, belike? <Tarri> Maybe the frog's *name* is Bear? * Temire thinks about it for a few moment, "Pretty much. That's how Adam got the money to start the smithy." <Meghan> ::Abby looks to Tarri and then back to the frog:: bear? <Cheylon> ::nodding:: Beyah! tol'ooo <Meghan> ::Abby grins and pats the floor:: Hop * Meghan smiles to Tarri "Thank you Tarri dear." <Cheylon> ::thumps the ground behind the toy:: Dzumpses. <Ragna> ::leaving her jaw to hang gaping for a few moments before remembering to close it:: Gods beneath us.... <Tarri> ::grins at Meghan:: It's not like either of them will remember this, in a few years. * Meghan chuckles and nods <Meghan> ::Abby hops along after the frog motioning for Chey to do the same:: Hop hop * Temire grins, "Didn't anyone warn you about this place?" <Ragna> ::the frog jumps as Abby pats behind it, and again as Cheylon does the same, getting enough altitude to land on a chair and ribbit:: <Ragna> *This* place, aye... but I met the both of them out there in the nice, calm city. ::jerking a thumb over her shoulder:: <Cheylon> ::attempts to climb into the chair after the toy:: <Ragna> ::the frog ribbits and hops again as Cheylon climbs after it, landing on the boy's head:: <Meghan> ::Abby watches Chey and giggles as the frog lands on his head:: * Cheylon tumbles out of the chair in surprise, the frog hopping away. He mostly lands on Abby, dropping both of them onto the floor. * Temire sighs and sips her cider. <Ragna> Oh, dear... <Meghan> ::Abby blinks as Chey tumbles into her. She falls back, Chey landing on top of her:: * Tarri watches the children playing with a wistful smile. * Nacheyla doesn't even walk. One instant she is behind the bar, the next eyeblink she's kneeling next to Cheylon and Abby. "Oh, dear..." * Ragna blinks and rubs her eyes. * Jaret stands up and then sits down again, seeing Nacheyla is on the case. <Cheylon> ::begins to cry, screwing up his face, revealing a row of white, pointed teeth:: <Meghan> ::Abby looks as if she is going to be ok until Chey begins to cry. Then she too begins to cry:: <Tarri> ::looks amused, but stays put to let the respective mothers sort it all out:: <Nacheyla> ::scoots back to let Meghan rescue her own child:: Oh, shushie... isn't that a *big* bump you have there? Your daddy's going to be soooo impressed.... * Meghan stands and moves to them. She kneels and reaches for Abby. "Oh sweetling it's ok." * Ragna frowns, concerned, and slides off her stool to reclaim the frog, turn it off, and put it back into its box where it won't get in the way. * Jaret has some of his neglected wine. * Meghan heads back over to the bar rocking Abby, who seems to have forgiven her. * Nacheyla settles with her back against the bar. "Oh, don't worry, Mistress Ragna... he's not wounded... he's just letting us know how much no fun falling down is. Aren't you, my dear?" Cheylon snuffles, burying his face in his mother's hair. * Temire sips her cider, wincing in sympathy. * Jaret smiles into his wine a bit and has some more. * Meghan finishes her cider. "Well I should be getting this one home and to bed. Good evening everyone." <Tarri> ::waves good-night to Meghan and Abby:: * Temire waves, "Night Meg. Night Abby. I hope you feel better soon." <Nacheyla> ::looking up from the floor:: Sorry about that, Meghan, Abby. <Ragna> ::wry almost-smile:: A hard head, ay? Still, I *am* sorry, lad. * Jaret stands and bows. "Good night, Miss Meghan, Miss Abagail. I am certain I will see you again soon." <Meghan> ::Smiles to Nach:: It's ok. Kids will tumble ::She stops to put on her cloak:: <Ragna> G'night, Mistress Meghan, Abagail. * Meghan gives a last waves and then heads out <Tarri> It's why they're built so low, my Papa used to say. ::grins:: <Cheylon> ::snuffles again and turns to watch Abby leave:: * Temire giggles, "I never heard that one. I always heard, 'You'll bust your head open!'" <Tarri> ::grins and shrugs:: That's for when you're climbing on something. Then, after you've fallen, it's "You're not really hurt; you're built low for a reason." * Nacheyla manages an interesting bit of acrobatics, getting up from the floor with her son still in her arms. "Poor Cheylon..." She hums something under her breath as the boy sticks three fingers into his mouth and lays his head against her shoulder. * Ragna sighs and puts the box on the bar, climbing back up onto her stool and taking a hefty swallow of beer. "Ah, well. Kids're never-ending excitement, belike." <Jaret> Can I perhaps get you to get that in writing, Smith Ragna? I have a mind to include it in a letter home. * Temire giggles, "Oh, I always got,'I told you so.'" <Ragna> ::grins:: If ye like, Lord Jaret. But if yer father has any more like *you* t'home, I'd say he knows it already. <Jaret> Oh, no. I am a distinct singularity, none other quite like me, back in Valen or abroad. At least, not such as I've seen. So, no, no siblings, like me or otherwise. <Ragna> ::grins:: Ah, well. * Nacheyla goes back behind the bar, Cheylon resting on one arm, still sucking his fingers. * Temire stage whispers to Tarri and Nach, "Good thing too. Can you imagine how much trouble two of them would get into?" <Tarri> ::giggles, putting a hand over her mouth:: * Nacheyla shrugs one-armed. "Two of them might cut down on the number of ladies competing for his affections..." * Jaret grins. "I daresay you can't." * Temire grins, "You have a good point there Nach." <Ragna> ::grins wider:: Nah... twins? It'd double it. * Temire chokes on her cider. * Jaret doesn't comment, but smiles and has some more wine. * Ragna pounds Temire good-naturedly on the back. "There, lass, make sure it goes down the right way!" * Temire waves Ragna off, "I'm alright... I'm alright..." * Nacheyla looks around. "Last call..." <Tarri> Oh! ::quickly finishes her cider:: * Temire finishes her cider, "I'm fine Nach. I should be heading home soon anyway." * Ragna chuckles and leaves off, leaning an elbow on the bar again to finish her beer. "This should do me." <Nacheyla> Good night, Temire... * Jaret looks at his glass. "I wouldn't drink the next glass slow enough to appreciate it, so please feel free to recork the bottle, Nacheyla, unless anyone else would care for a goblet of a perfect vintage." * Nacheyla recorks the wine. "I'll just put it here for you, next week, shall I? You'll have to drink it some time soon, I'd hate for it to turn." <Jaret> Trust me, now that I know it's here, I'll be certain to be here next week. Especially considering... you wouldn't happen to know where the Master Bard and his bride are, do you? I had a proposition I wished to place to them, and thought I might see Kevil here tonight. * Temire looks at Tarri, "Want an escort home Tarri?" <Ragna> ::frowns a little, looking around, and raises her eyebrows in surprise:: That's right... she didn't kick 'im out this evening, did she? She was due soon, aye? <Nacheyla> ::rolls her eyes with exasperation:: They're in Alanis again. Kevil complained once too often about the cold and Loria broke some dishes over his head. Well, not literally, of course, but... ::she laughs:: I don't expect them back for a few weeks. <Tarri> ::shakes her head:: No, thanks, Mira. I'm going the other way. <Jaret> Ah, well, there is no rush. I'll keep an eye out for them later in the month. ::he finishes his goblet of wine:: And now I should be off. Good night, ladies, and Master Cheylon, the same to you. I hope you all enjoy the remainder of the evening as much as I plan to. <Nacheyla> Good night, Jaret... <Ragna> G'night, Lord Jaret! <Temire> Good night Jaret. * Temire stands and retrieves her cloak, "Good night everyone." <Tarri> In fact, if I'm not going to be late... ::smiles and ducks her head toward Nacheyla:: Good night, Lady. <Nacheyla> G'nite Temire... g'nite Tarri... * Jaret exits, retrieving his cloak from the peg and settling it on his shoulders as he steps into the alleyway, and out of the Meade Hall. <Ragna> ::grins:: I'm up before the sun, so I plan to enjoy my rest. Dunno what *you* lot plan to be enjoying. ::chuckles:: * Tarri pulls on her cloak and leaves, a spring in her step. * Nacheyla picks up Cheylon's frog and teething ring and shooes the dishes into the kitchen. "Sleep well, Mistress Ragna. Thank you again." <Ragna> ::shakes her head:: Night, then, Priestess. Hope the lad feels better in the morning. You're quite welcome. * Ragna slides off her stool, patting her pocket to check for her notepad, and heads upstairs. * Nacheyla finishes cleaning up. "Now... where is Lisl? She kept promising me to babysit once in a while... " She shakes her head. "Oh well. Come on you, let's see how long you can keep me awake tonight, shall we?" She opens a hole between worlds and steps through. |
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