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* Rhys shuffles in from the back room, carrying a candle which he uses to light the lamps in the room. He eyes the cordoned off table suspiciously. "Nothing funny out of you tonight." The table makes no response. Rhys unlocks the front door with his key, and returns behind the bar. "Hall's open!" * Diya enters the Hall cautiously, a half-grown falcon perched precariously on his shoulder. "Diya bids a fair evening to all. Is Maharajah allowed within?" He gestures to the bird who responds with a flutter of wings. <Rhys> Good evening to you, as well. And I suppose the bird is welcome, although... is he housebroken? No difference, I suppose, with this new floor. <Diya> ::gives Rhys a wide, boyish grin:: Diya will send him outside, if he must... ::coughs into his hand:: take care of his personal needs. <Rhys> That would be wonderful. Now, tell me, what can I get for you? * Lisl eases in through the door, several braces of geese hanging from her hunting belt giving the mental suggestion of what she might look like pregnant. "Evening, Rhys, good seeing. I brought-- whoa." She starts to lean her bowstaff in the corner and pauses on seeing the falcon. "Maybe... around the back, then?" She twitches her cloak around awkwardly to cover her prizes. * Diya takes a seat near the bar. "Diya wonders if he might get orange juice? And perhaps some dinner? Diya is not picky, but jerky would be quite good." * Temire enters dressed in her usual shirt and breeches with her conch shell sword at her side. "Good evening everyone." <Rhys> Good evening, Lisl. And... I think it'll be all right, as long as you give the good man and his bird a wide berth. Orange juice and jerky? There's a combination I wouldn't have thought of. However, if it fits your palate, who am I to judge? The orange juice will be... ::he looks at the rats net of taps and hesitates:: ... up in just a moment. <Rhys> Good evening, Temire. Please have a seat and I'll get to you as soon as I can. ::he selects a mug from the rack whose 'face' looks somewhat beetlebrowed, but otherwise normal, and holds it under a tap:: And now... *orange juice*. ::he pulls the lever and orange liquid shoots out of the tap, fizzing suspiciously. Rhys looks at it and dumps it out into the drain.:: Let's try that again.... <Lisl> ::eyeing the falcon with wary respect:: That's a young one, and the young are often... headstrong. ::she quirks a grin:: But, if you say so... :edges around the fringes of the room, keeping her eyes on the falcon, until she reaches the kitchen door and quickly ducks inside:: <Diya> ::raises one eyebrow:: Diya's friend will not take what is not freely offered... * Temire drapes her cloak over a chair and perches on a stool at the bar before turning to Diya. "I know we've met before you're... Kevil and Loria's husband aren't you?" <Lisl> ::voice floating out of the kitchen:: Still, cruel to tease. I'll say hi, Master Diya, when I don't look so much like bait... ::thumping noises from behind the closed door:: <Diya> ::bows from the waist:: Diya is honored to be remembered. He wishes he could do so well... ::frowns, trying to place the woman:: * Temire smiles and returns Diya's bow, "Temire, apprentice adventurer." Cocks her head, "I should really see if I can get that changed." * Rhys holds the mug under the tap and commands again. "Orange juice!" A thick stream of orange pulp plops into the mug, but hardly looks imbibable. He shakes it out of the glass, and into the drain. The mug's heavy brow pulls farther down over its eyes. "Orange! Juice!" The thinnest trickle of juice issues from the tap, and Rhys sighs but patiently leaves the mug under the tap until it is full. He sniffs the mug, then hands it to Diya. "Here you are, sir." <Diya> ::grins:: Something a bit more flamboyant, yes? Lady Temire, Adventurer Extraordinare? Diya likes the sound of it. ::takes Temire's hand and kisses it, batting his eyelashes:: <Diya> ::laughs at Rhys's expression:: Diya is grateful. He is sorry to be such a bother. Heartwing warned him that things had changed here, but Diya wished to see for himself. * Temire smiles, her eyes sparkling, "I like it to, but I suspect my teachers would take me to task for using it. It's hard to label oneself as extraordinare when one keeps company with Lisl or Master Jaret Malkier, or Mistress Nightstorm." * Rhys looks around at the gathering at the bar. "Now, where was I... ah, yes! Some jerky! If everyone will excuse me, this will only take me a moment..." He bustles back into the kitchen. * Lisl exits the kitchen, picking feathers off her trousers with a free hand. The other hand holds a goose wing, neatly ripped off the bird. "Fresh meat for you, Rhys. Other than this, I mean." She grins and goes to sit on the other side of Diya. <Diya> ::looks around:: Diya hates to contradict, but he does not see many such notables favoring this place with their company this night. ::he winks at her:: Diya has learned the lesson of not comparing himself to his betters. He lets them do that and minds his own honor. <Lisl> ::waving a hand at Temire:: I don't adventure anymore. Call yourself what you like. And stop grinning, I *am* retired. Mostly. Master Diya, might I offer this to your new friend? ::nodding to the bird, lest he mistake the "friend" reference to mean Temire:: * Temire laughs, throwing her hair back, "I'll have to keep that in mind. Hells, maybe that's the secret to Jaret's success." <Rhys> ::as he goes into the kitchen:: Many thanks, Miss Ferinsdottir! ::all is quiet from the kitchen for a while, and soon enough Rhys emerges from the kitchen with some strips of jerky on a plate for Diya:: Here you are. Sorry for keeping you waiting. * Kevil shoulders through the door, his cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders and the hood drawn over his head until all that can be seen of him is a few locks of black, curly hair. He sighs ponderously as the door closes behind him, then he heads for the fire - or as close as the roped-off table will allow - before pulling off the cloak. * Temire smiles at Kevil's entrance, "Evening Kevil." * Diya bows thanks to Rhys. The Falcon makes a soft shriek (well, as soft as a shrieking bird can be) and bobs a similar bow from Diya's shoulder to Lisl. "Maharajah asks his gratitude to be said. He praises the hunter who brings such to the table." <Rhys> My apologies for the cold hearth, Master Bard. We've, ah, been having some troubles with it, lately. We should have it sorted out in a few weeks or so. Most likely. <Lisl> ::eyebrows going up in surprise:: You can speak with him? ::taking her offering by the extreme end of the joint and offering it carefully to the bird:: <Rhys> Now, what can I get everyone to drink? <Temire> I heard a rumor that Jaret recently returned from a trip to Arabel? * Diya takes a sip of his orange juice and sighs with extremely overstated satisfaction. "Diya can speak with all birds, if he tries very hard. But mostly Diya only speaks with his bondmate. It is easier to listen to one bird than to many." <Rhys> The evasive Master Malkier didn't disclose his source, damn him, but he did provide us with several bottles of Arabellan Red, which I'd be happy to uncork for you, or anyone who so desires. * Kevil stops short as he realizes there is no fire in the fireplace. With a resigned sigh, he bundles his cloak around his forearms and joins everyone else at the bar. "I should have realized... Good evening, my friends, n'shava..." He leans in on the far side of Diya from Maharajah to kiss Diya's cheek. * Temire smiles, "That sounds wonderful Rhys." <Kevil> ::nodding to Rhys:: A little red wine would lend welcome warmth to my joints. Especially if you have yet the means of serving it heated, without too much trouble, d'va? <Lisl> Really? Aerdrie blesses you. ::grinning a little:: Although yes, one at a time is easier, I'm sure. ::to Rhys:: I think he graced us with the largesse of his own cellars, Rhys, but you'd have to ask him yourself. ::glancing around:: And for a little variation, I'll have a glass of Sembian, please. Kevil, that's you under there? Enjoying the brisk swamp air? * Rhys gets a goblet out for Temire and sets it on the bartop and begins rummaging under the bar for a bottle. He comes up with one, and a small frown. "I'm afraid my simple means of mulling the wine is forbidden, for the time being." He nods his head at the sign forbidding all magic use. "It's safer, this way." * Rhys gets a second goblet out for Kevil. Temire's goblet behaves itself, but as Kevil's goblet fills with wine, it begins to sway its 'hips' back and forth, tipping the glass of wine this way and that. Rhys grumblesighs. "Now, please..." He sets the goblets in front of their recipients. "Enjoy." <Diya> ::laughs:: Heartwing hates the cold. Oriole hates the heat. It makes Diya's life a sure trial, as one or the other of his spouses is always complaining. ::grins boldly at Kevil:: <Lisl> ::glancing at the sign:: Well, glad to have you here and serving, at least, Rhys. You, Nach, Michelle... we've had all of you now. That means no one was hurt in the... remodelling, then? * Temire sips her wine and sighs contentedly, "Thank you Rhys." <Kevil> Ah, well, I shall enjoy it well enough as-is, then. ::to Lisl:: "Enjoying" is hardly the word I would choose, Huntress. One goes out to perform a simple errand, and ends up being sent to every far corner of the city... ::he grumbles to himself for a moment longer, then picks up the dancing goblet by the bowl to drink:: <Rhys> None of the staff, no. Some of the overly-enthusiastic War Wizards suffered a debilitating condition when they attempted to enter and contain things, and there's a cooper a few streets over who's never going to supply us again, but aside from that, we're all relatively unscathed. For the most part. <Kevil> ::returning Diya's grin:: And if we are not, then one of the girls surely is. Poor Diya. * Diya heaves a great sigh. "Diya is so abused and put upon. Whatever shall he do? However shall he bear it? Heartwing should take pity on poor Diya and be especially nice to him." <Kevil> ::raising an eyebrow:: Am I ever not nice to you, n'shava? <Lisl> ::nods:: Good to hear. ::grins in the face of Kevil's grumbling:: The exercise is good for you, and at least the swamp doesn't smell so much when it's frozen over. * Diya bats his eyelashes. "Diya is just *saying*...." <Kevil> ::mock-glares at Lisl:: Exercise I can get in plenty, in any weather. As for the rest - I am certain Loria would be happy to entertain your notions of pleasant weather. *I* am only trying to warm up to the point that I can feel my hands again. <Kevil> ::laughs at Diya:: I will be happy to be nice, once I am *warm*. ::puts one cold hand on the back of the falconer's neck:: <Lisl> ::grinning wider:: Well, I trust your mother to keep you on your toes, but now that you're here *someone* has to harass you. * Diya holds Kevil's hands between his own. "Diya thinks heartwing's blood has thinned." * Temire grins at Lisl, "So who keeps you on your toes when your mother isn't around?" <Lisl> ::sniffs at Temire haughtily, grinning when she can't keep up the pretense:: Girl, I *live* on my toes. <Kevil> ::sighs happily at Diya's warmth:: When was it ever thick? ::gives Lisl a long-suffering look over Diya's shoulder:: Is it *truly* necessary? Introducing you to my mother was, obviously, a mistake. * Rhys belatedly pours Lisl her snifter of Sembian. This, too, comes out of an actual bottle. * Temire chuckles, "I thought someone said something about being retired?" <Lisl> ::grinning:: I like your mother. ::to Temire:: *Mostly* retired. People keep trying to give me things to do. ::nodding to her bowstaff in the corner:: And I still hunt, of course. <Diya> ::Diya's bird gives Kevil a haughty stare and flaps down onto the bar where he proceeds to tear messily into the goose meat that Lisl placed there:: * Temire chuckles, "Maybe I can get a job finding things for you to do." * Kevil grins, a little sideways, and nods politely to Maharajah. "Good evening to you, too." * Diya looks at his falcon, his eyes glazing slightly. "Do not let Maharajah be upsetting. He is still young, and demands much of Diya's attention." He strokes the bird's feathers soothingly. <Lisl> Ha! I'm fo-- ::glancing suddenly at Diya and checking herself:: --for damned sure old enough to have earned a little retirement, thanks. And as it is, I have *no* difficulty finding things to do. If *you're* looking for something useful to do, I'll happily lend you a bow. * Temire thinks about it, then shrugs, "Sure. I need something to do and I never really learned how to hunt." <Kevil> ::His hands warmer, he picks up his wine and sips again:: N'shava, as happy as he makes you, I am prepared to grant him a great deal of leeway before I begin to be upset. <Kevil> ::looks down into the wine:: This is really quite excellent. <Lisl> Ha... got me anyway, didn't you? Well enough. Certainly a skill you should learn, if you plan on adventuring any distance from a city. * Temire smiles and sips her wine. <Lisl> ::shakes her head and takes a swallow of brandy:: Sneaky. <Diya> ::bows to Lisl:: Diya is also an accomplished hunter, although he fears he probably does not rank up with one held in such esteem by Oriole. But if it is a bother, Diya can undertake to teach this young adventuress. * Temire smiles, "Well I do my best to learn from the best." <Lisl> ::snorts:: Didn't you just say something earlier about not selling yourself short, Master Diya? ::shrugs:: It's all one to me, I'll be out there regardless. Though... how much woods-hunting have you done, Master Diya? You hail from Alanis too, don't you? <Diya> Diya is somewhat familiar with the woods. His younger brother lives in Andahlheim and Diya has hunted there. But only sometimes. And not for a long while. <Kevil> ::gives Diya a measuring look:: Hunting? In *this* weather? <Lisl> ::nods, looking over at Temire:: Were I you, I'd get lessons from both of us. ::grins:: I know the woods, but what Master Diya doesn't know about open-range hunting probably isn't worth learning. <Diya> ::shrugs:: Diya is getting used to the weather... and Diya often feels that Oriole would prefer him out-of-doors to ::his voice raises a register:: "sulking around the house like a child deprived of a favorite toy." * Temire hops off her stool and bows. If she'd been wearing a cloak and plumed hat it probably would have looked impressive, but as it is the best that can be said about it is that she didn't spill her wine. "I'll endeavour to be worthy of my teachers' time." <Lisl> ::laughs:: Alright, you've been spending far too much time watching Jaret, young lady. <Lisl> ::glances over at Diya with a sly grin:: Ah, so Master Diya *does* complain about some things! <Kevil> ::snorts:: She is only irritable that the girls make it difficult for her to get out more often, herself. ::shrugs and grins:: Though I certainly would not stand in your way. I will merely be home, bundled before the fire like the old man I am, when you return. * Temire grins and perches back on her stool, "But Jaret likes being watched. I mean, what would he do with all that flamboyantness if people didn't watch him." <Lisl> Ha! I wouldn't be surprised if he does it even when he's pretty sure no one else is looking. Just for the... ha. *Fun* of it. * Lisl takes another sip of brandy. <Diya> ::grins:: Diya is not above complaining... but he tries not to be too much of a burden. <Kevil> ::leans on the bar, watching his half-full goblet swaying:: Which is to say that when Diya complains, he does so as charmingly as possible. * Diya colors faintly. "Heartwing exaggerates..." <Lisl> ::snort:: Says you, Master Pot... * Kevil grins at Diya and winks. * Temire sips her wine. * Lisl sips her brandy, her eyes on the falcon. "Where did you find that particular treasure, Master Diya? He's beautiful." <Diya> Diya took Maharajah from the aviary of the Rangers. He was only a ten-day out of the shell, but his mother came out second-best in a battle with the Ven'Hedi hawkmen. ::his face darkens:: <Lisl> ::cocks her head:: Hawkmen? The Ven'Hedi have falconers, too? <Kevil> Certainly. Why would they not? <Lisl> ::shrugs a shoulder:: The wild elves of the Cormanthor pair with hawks, but for most, it's a noble's sport. Few enough others can afford to keep and train them the way they need to be, around here. Not quite the same as a parrot on every shoulder, after all... <Diya> ::shaking his head:: Falcons are essential to desert life... ::he looks at his own bird fondly:: To scout, to hunt, to protect... Game is not so common in the Ven. What a man's eye may miss, the bird will almost always see. <Lisl> ::grins suddenly:: Aye. <Kevil> ::nods:: The Ven'hedi are hunters and warriors. <Lisl> Hunh. Well, I only ran across them the once... I'd thought they were no better than bandits. They're their own... tribe, then? <Kevil> ::shrugs:: Several tribes - no Alani knows how many. They act like bandits to us... ::his own face darkens briefly, and he grimaces:: To them, we are only another sort of prey. * Lisl takes another sip of brandy. * Diya scowls. "There are many tribes. Raiders and thieves and slavers. Diya hates them. But they are fearsome. Lucky for Alanis, they war on each other as much as with the cities." <Lisl> Aye, well... there's many a people who act on the belief that what one is not strong enough to hold, belongs by right to one that can. ::frowns down at her glass, which twists its open mouth around into a grimace and frowns back:: Stop that, you, you'll spill. * Temire sips her wine, listening to the conversation. <Kevil> ::nods:: Thus, the formation of the Rangers, who are our best guard against Ven'hedi treachery. ::smiles proudly at Diya:: <Lisl> ::grinning somewhat wolfishly:: Aye, a fun bunch to ride with. <Kevil> ::snorts:: Speaking of which, my mother sends her best, and wonders if you have been practicing the steps she taught you. * Diya drains the rest of his orange juice and begins making inroads on his dinner, somewhat belatedly. The tips of his ears are nearly as red as his hair from Kevil's praise. <Lisl> ::grins evilly:: Come spar with me sometime and you can report back to her. <Kevil> What if I let *Diya* spar with you, and I will watch? That way, I am far more certain to be in one piece to be able to report. <Rhys> More orange juice, Ranger? <Diya> ::shakes his head:: Diya is finished. ::looks up at Kevil:: Heartwing knows Diya is no master of the hand fighting style. But he can try. <Lisl> ::looking wounded, and fluttering her eyelashes comically:: Have I ever left you in more pieces than you started out with sparring, Kevil? <Kevil> You need not relinquish your weapons, sunshine. Lisl is a match - weaponed or open-handed - for the best I have ever seen. ::gives Lisl a grin:: Which is why I leave her in your capable hands... I am far too elderly and frail to risk my bones to such an expert. * Diya rolls his eyes. "Heartwing is not elderly." <Lisl> ::snorts:: I'm *older* than you, Kevil, thank you very much. <Kevil> ::bows fluidly to Lisl:: But you have unfair advantages, my lady... ::he taps one of his rounded ears:: Besides, elderly or no, it is entirely too cold to fight for fun. <Lisl> ::tipping her head back to drain her brandy glass:: Well, if you wish for me to beat upon your poor, often-abused spouse, here, how can I say no? ::grinning:: Tho' a little match or two might warm you up... <Kevil> ::solemnly:: Indeed. I could use them to start a fire. * Temire nearly chokes on her wine. <Diya> ::raises one eyebrow:: Diya hopes he will not be so overly beaten upon. But he would be honored to learn from one so wise and experienced. ::his particular lilting voice suggests *other* experiences that Lisl might have to teach him:: <Lisl> ::puts her face in her hand and groans:: I thought you were trying to *avoid* a drubbing. <Kevil> ::laughs and has some more wine:: * Lisl raises an eyebrow and looks from Diya to Kevil, a faint blush rising from her neck up to the roots of her hair. "Ahem. Alani to the bone. Right." <Rhys> Last call, everyone. It gets colder as it gets later, and it'd be cruel to allow you to chat the night away, only to put you out later. * Temire smiles and finishes her wine, "That's all for me Rhys, how much do I owe you?" * Diya stashes the remainder of the jerky in his bag and fishes out a few silver coins stamped with a fox head. "Diya hopes this will be sufficient? He has not bothered to get his money changed, yet." * Lisl clears her throat again and perks up a little, glancing sidelong at Rhys with interest to see how he'll answer. <Rhys> Oh, call it a silver, and I suppose that'd be fair. It's not like we had a large capital outlay for the wine, after all. <Kevil> Va. ::he eyes Rhys suspiciously, then downs the last of his wine:: No more for me, though I must remember to thank Lord Malkier for introducing me to the vintage. ::he lays several coins on the bar, then turns to Diya:: Will you walk home with me, n'shava, or were you planning on a night hunt? * Temire rummages in her pouch and drops a silver on the bar, "True enough, but still, rebuilding had to be expensive." <Diya> ::grins:: Diya can hunt later... if the Lady Hunter cares to name a time he should join her? ::he bows to Lisl deeply.:: <Rhys> We certainly weren't allowed to do it for free, I'll tell you that much. ::he takes a deep breath and brushes the silver into the strongbox:: Thank you. <Lisl> I'm done. ::hooking a foot around a rung of her stool and leaning over to set her glass on the floor:: And keep the change, Rhys. From what I hear, this'll be worth it for the Sembian soon enough. ::fishing in her pouch to drop a gold on the bar:: * Temire listens for Lisl's answer. * Rhys takes the coin from Lisl and puts it into the box. "The trade with Sembia has slackened considerably, true. We'll see if it picks back up in the spring, when the caravans start arriving." * Kevil pulls his cloak back on, carefully fastening it before pulling the hood up. He sighs. "A last breath of warmth to sustain me on the journey home." <Lisl> ::blinks at Diya:: Oh... you'd like to go hunting *with* me? ::glances from him to Temire, and over to her bowstaff leaning by the door:: Well... well enough. Um... I go out daily. Do either of you have plans for tomorrow? <Diya> Diya is occupied only with Diya's normal tasks... taking out the trash and getting out of Oriole's way. <Lisl> ::snickers a little, and cocks her head at Temire for her answer:: * Temire shakes her head, "Nothing that can't wait a month or two." <Lisl> Fair enough. ::grinning:: Get to bed, then. I'll come collect you a half-hour before dawn, so we can be in the woods by first light. ::grinning at Kevil:: And I'll tiptoe so as not to wake your lieabed husband. <Diya> ::nods:: Diya will be awake. ::grins and takes Kevil's arm:: Heartwing will most likely not be... ::waves, then escorts his spouse from the Hall. Maharajah wings off into the night sky as soon as they are out-of-doors:: * Temire stands up and retrieves her cloak, "Fair enough. What should I bring besides myself and suitable clothing?" <Rhys> Good night, Ranger. <Lisl> A good, sharp knife, a warm, waterproof cloak, and something quiet to chew on when you're sitting in the brush being bored. * Temire thinks for a moment, "So bread and jerky?" <Lisl> Aye, that'd do nicely. ::grins:: Other than that, I've got plenty of toys to share. * Temire chuckles, "I look forward to learning about them then." Temire swirls her cloak onto her shoulders and fastens it. "Goodnight Rhys. Goodnight Lisl." <Lisl> ::glancing at the door speculatively:: This'll definitely be a learning experience... for all of us, I think. <Lisl> Night, Temire. <Rhys> Good night, Temire. <Lisl> I'm off, too. Keep well, Rhys. ::waving as she fetches her bowstaff from the corner, lays it over her shoulder like a fishing pole, and strolls out the door:: * Rhys collects goblets and mugs and herds them towards the kitchen. <Rhys> Good night, Miss Ferinsdottir! * Rhys locks the door behind Lisl, then pulls out a little scrap of paper and starts making notes on it. "Temire... one silver... Miss Ferinsdottir... one gold...." |
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