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* Rhys stumbles in from the back room, re-reading a note with a bemused expression on his face. There is a conspicuous empty spot in the room where a table belongs. The chairs are forlornly circled around where the table should be. Rhys carries a candle around to all the lamps, lifts the shields and lights the wicks before heading to the door and unlocking it. He returns back behind the counter. "Hall's open." * Lisl strides in, stopping in her tracks as she realizes she's leaving them. (Tracks, that is.) She carefully steps backwards in her muddy footprints and wrenches off her boots to leave them by the door with her bowstaff. "Sorry, Rhys." She continues across to the bar in stocking feet. * Diya wanders in, a sullen-appearing little girl toddling along behind him, one hand firmly clenched around the tail end of his dark orange sash. The little girl has black hair and bright blue eyes and is wearing an expression of extreme grouchiness. <Rhys> At least you realized it now, and not half an hour hence. What can I get for you tonight? <Rhys> Good evening, Master Diya, can I get you anything? Who's your companion? <Lisl> ::rubbing her face and rearranging a bit of grime:: There should be a jug of the good stuff under the counter somewhere. Nach left it. <Diya> ::grins brightly:: Diya bids a fair evening, as well. This ::and he hefts the crabby girl:: is Shavvie. Shavvie has been making her Vish and her inval both very unhappy this evening and Oriole asked Diya to "get this one out of here", so Diya is doing that. He hopes it is not inconvenient? * Rhys looks around under the bar for a moment and after a while comes up with the metal cylinder. The seam where the cup detaches from the jug is discolored greenish-brown. He looks at it uncertainly. "I can serve you this if you want, I suppose." He pours her a cupful of the stuff, and carefully sets it in front of her. * Temire limps in through the door, "Evening everyone." She too stops at the door to remove her boots, then limps to the bar, "How have things been?" <Lisl> Aye, that's the stuff. ::grins a touch evilly:: Xarroch brewed it. <Rhys> And, no, not inconvenient. I think I understand the gist of what's going on. Evening, Temire. What can I get you? ::he fishes a warm, damp cloth out from under the bar and casually leaves it within Lisl's arm's reach:: * Temire smiles at the sight of Shavvie and Diya, bowing to Shavvie with a flourish, "Welcome to the Meade Hall Shavvie." <Lisl> Evening, Diya, Shavvie. Evening, Mira. What in the-- ::breaks off with a glance at Shavvie:: ---world happened to you? ::nodding to her limp:: * Temire pulls a couple of chairs up to the bar and sits in one, propping her foot up in the other, "What do you have that's not Sembian or Moonshae's? And can I get some ice for this." Gestures to her foot. <Diya> ::the little girl looks around with wide eyes, then attempts to stuff her entire fist in her mouth and buries her head against Diya's chest:: <Temire> I didn't notice one of Ilya's toys as I was coming down the stairs and almost put my foot through the closet door. And of course I was barefoot at the time. Nothings broken but I'm probably going to loose a couple of the nails. <Rhys> We've got some bottles of Arabellan that Malkier left here, and whatever the taps feel like dispensing at the moment. The latter is, of course, not entirely trustworthy, but I think it's getting better. * Lisl picks up the damp cloth and gives her face a cursory wipe, eyes widening a little as the cloth comes away from her face far blacker than before. She sighs, pushes her cup out of reach of exploratory little fingers, and heads for the nearest sink. "Pardon, a moment." <Temire> Where's Gloss when I need her... I'll take the Arabellan. <Rhys> Ice, ice, ice, ice... I think there's some in a freezer that I can chip free. This will only be a few breaths. ::he hurries back into the kitchen and, good to his word, is back quite quickly with some chunks of ice wrapped in a towel, which he hands to Temire:: * Diya laughs sympathetically. "Diya feels that pain. He has had misadventures with toys on many occasions." <Temire> You're a life saver Rhys. ::takes the ice, removes her stocking to reveal five red and purple toes and then puts the ice on her foot:: <Diya> ::a muffled voice from Diya's chest:: Cake! <Rhys> And Arabellan Red it is. ::he fetches up a goblet off the shelf that is, for the moment, behaving, fills it with the red wine, and sets it in front of Temire:: <Temire> ::takes the glass and has a sip:: Thanks Rhys. * Lisl emerges from the bathroom again about five shades lighter than she entered, silver hair looking like she stuck her head in the washbasin, but at least clean. "Aaaah. Much better. Thanks, Rhys. Dunno if this can be salvaged, but you're welcome to try." She tosses him the now-grey cloth. * Diya stands Shavyl on one of the bar-stools to look at her. "No, Diya does not think so, Shavvie. Diya already saw what Shavvie did with her cake." * Lisl hisses at the sight of Temire's toes. "Nasty. They're doing well, though? The girl's hair has grown back, aye?" * Rhys sees the dingy, dirty cloth coming and manages to sidestep it in time, picking it off the floor after making sure it wasn't going to stand up and walk off under its own power. "If I can't, Lisl, it can always be burned. Probably." * Temire nods, "Michelle grew Ilya's hair back as soon as we got her back. She and Ilarion are doing well, though Ilarion can't seem to decide if he has wonderful students or a pack of complete imbeciles." <Lisl> ::grins:: Just good, honest mud, Rhys. Well, and a bit of sweat. Maybe some blood... aye, blood, too. None of mine, though, safe enough to burn. ::grins:: <Lisl> ::snorts:: Way I remember it, most students are a bit of both. ::glances at Shavyl:: They grow up awfully fast, though. <Shavyl> ::puts her tiny fists on her hips:: CAKE! <Diya> ::shakes his head:: If Shavvie wanted her cake, she shouldn't have smooshed it on Aisha's head, should she? * Lisl turns a startled laugh into a cough just in time. * Shavyl sticks her lower lip out in an absolutely adorable pout that probably works quite well on Kevil. "Shavvie's sowwy." * Rhys watches Diya and Shavyl go back-and-forth with a faint smile on his face. * Lisl picks up her mug and glances sidelong at Diya and the little girl. "Aye, she's Kevil's daughter, alright." * Diya nods. "It's all right. Aisha will forgive Shavvie. And so will Vish... " in a lower tone. "Maybe. Next week." He looks at Rhys. "Could Shavvie get a cup of milk? Or juice? Diya would like a glass of water." * Zoya enters the Hall, dressed in what seems to be perfectly normal street-clothes, her long white hair pulled back into a braid. Something about her seems a little odd... It takes a moment to figure out: She's actually wearing belt-pouches on her belt. Aside from her height and peculiarly-colored hair, she is for once entirely normal. * Lisl sips carefully and slowly from her cup, savoring the flavor. * Rhys looks at Shavyl's smaller hands and nods slowly. "Let me look around a bit for a glass that will fit her hands. And be bounceable." * Lisl glances over her shoulder, and does a double-take. "Zoya?" <Temire> ::Temire's gaze mirrors Lisl's question:: <Zoya> Good evening, my friends! ::she raises an eyebrow at Shavyl, then smiles warmly at the little girl.:: And happy birthday to you. <Zoya> ::looks over at Lisl, faintly surprised:: Yes? <Lisl> ::glances from Zoya to the sign and back to Zoya, a glint of humor in her eyes:: Ah, I see. <Lisl> ::grinning:: Nothing. That's just a... new look for you. Birthday? ::glancing at Shavyl again:: It's been a whole year already? <Zoya> ::grins:: I was warned. Is it really *that* different? <Lisl> ::grinning wider:: Aye. No sleeves, for one. * Diya bows deeply to Zoya. "Chained Natovna. Diya is honored to once again be in your presence." * Rhys putters around and finds a cup made from an odd, almost pliant material that is featureless except for two large ears growing out of either side which could readily serve as handles. He takes the cup over to the taps. "Milk. And it's for the little girl, so let's not fool around." The taps obligingly pour out milk for the cup, which Rhys sets in front of Diya and Shavyl, closer to Diya. "Here you are." <Shavyl> ::picking the cup up carefully:: Fanks. * Rhys gets a mug off the racks, after some searching for one that won't cause Shavyl to ask all sorts of unusual questions, and eventually manages to convince the taps to give him cool, clear, water with no minnows swimming in it. He gives the mug to Diya. * Lisl swallows a grin along with another sip of Demon Kick. * Temire looks at Lisl, "What are you drinking? I thought the 'kick was gone?" <Lisl> Well, not much of the original stuff left, at least, no. ::grins:: Xarroch made this. * Zoya returns Diya's bow, a shade less deeply, though with a somewhat amused smile. "Master Nabihazan, you can be no more honored than I. How fares your circle?" <Diya> ::grins widely:: They fare well, although Oriole might argue with Diya over that opinion. <Lisl> ::taking another careful, small sip and savoring the mouthful:: I like it. Bit more piney... more of a kick, though, that's for certain. First swallow last week put me on the floor. <Zoya> ::grins at Diya:: I am given to understand that children will have that effect. Or is it all Kevil's fault? Again? <Zoya> ::looks at Lisl with amazement:: A drink to put *you* on the floor? Does it explode nicely, too? * Temire shakes her head, "I don't care if Xarroch is learning not to put holes in the walls when he enters a place, I don't think anyone should be drinking something he brewed." <Lisl> ::chuckles:: They experimented with cake, I understand. For the birthday, then, aye? ::shakes her head:: Too bad for me that's the one thing Mother's traditional about... * Diya considers Zoya's question. "Diya does not believe so, no. Unless heartwing is at fault for simply having bad traits that he has passed along to his issali." He grins widely to show that he is only joking. <Lisl> I've not tested its, ah, military applications as yet. But it's a fine brew. In very, very small quantities. ::grins again:: <Zoya> ::eyes Shavyl:: She doesn't seem *too* encrusted with crumbs... ::to Lisl:: Traditional elvish birthdays? What - leaves and berries? <Zoya> ::laughs at Diya's comment:: She might discover that some of those traits are her own... To marry Kevil, she'd have to be headstrong and stubborn, to say the very least. <Diya> ::laughs:: Diya is told that those traits are called "tenacity". <Zoya> I am certain that you are. Though they might be re-named when she has occasion to apply them to the children, hmm? <Lisl> Ha! No. Elves-- well, at least the fey clans I'm descended from-- celebrate the anniversaries of a birth, but the mother gets all the presents. After all, she did the work. ::wry grin:: * Zoya leans against a barstool and grins at Rhys. "Could you convince the taps to produce something in the general flavor and alcohol-level of ale? It needn't be exact, I suppose, if they're feeling their oats tonight." <Lisl> ::grins:: An oatmeal stout's not bad, y'know. * Temire shakes her head and sips her wine, "Just don't mention that around Nachan. I don't even want to think about how much those presents would cost me." <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: It sounds fair to me. Though it's easier on the pocket than, say, halfling birthdays. * Lisl raises an eyebrow. "I shudder to ask...?" <Zoya> You didn't know? When a halfling throws himself a birthday party, he gives gifts to all the attendees. That's they way *they* do things. <Rhys> I try to be as specific as possible with them, lately. Any leniency leads to the wildest flights of fancy on their part. ::he gets a mug off the rack, and puts it under the taps:: Ale, for the nice arch-mage. Please. ::the taps make some rattling and banging noises in their depths and an amber liquid with the consistency of molasses flows into the mug. Once it's full, Rhys gives it an experimental swirl, and it seems to be normal thickness again:: Here you are, Zoya. <Lisl> G-- ::glances at Shavvie again:: --ee, no wonder they're popular. <Zoya> Thank you, Rhys. ::she seems entirely undisturbed by the unusual initial consistency of her drink, though she does take a medium-to-small first sip.:: * Shavyl finishes her cup of milk off with a loud burp. * Lisl quirks a smile. "So, Aylin's the quiet one? Or did they decide one was enough to deal with at a time?" <Diya> ::nodding:: Aisha is having a bit of trouble keeping up with her inval. <Lisl> Inval... ::frowns mildly to herself for a moment:: ...sister? <Zoya> Sibling. Close enough. <Lisl> ::shrugs, smiling easily:: That's the problem with being bespelled for languages. You don't hear 'em, you don't learn 'em. <Lisl> ::grinning at Zoya:: Not that I'd give it up, mind you. <Zoya> ::grins back and says something in her overly-consonant-ridden native tongue.:: <Lisl> ::grins, shrugs, and glances at Shavyl again:: Were I not worried she had her father's ear for tongues, I'd give you a sampling of the words *I* generally learn first. * Diya snorts quietly into his glass of water. <Zoya> I can guess. * Lisl glances at Diya and raises her eyebrow at Zoya. "So what did *you* say?" <Zoya> "Lazy b-" ::glances at Shavyl:: "-wench" * Temire smiles and sips her wine. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: Well, then, no doubt I'll learn that one soon enough. ::grins:: * Zoya reaches idly for her sleeve, finds it cuffed close around her arm, and makes a face as she opens her belt-pouch and rummages in it. She comes up with a carved wooden... thing. It seems to be five rings, intertwined. She shakes it experimentally, and the wood clacks pleasantly. She offers it to Shavyl. * Rhys comes over towards Shavyl. "Would you like some more milk?" <Shavyl> ::looks up:: Toy! <Zoya> It's a birthday present. <Shavyl> ::smugly:: Shavvie's! <Diya> ::raises one eyebrow:: Give thanks, Shavvie. <Shavyl> ::a little less enthusiastically:: Fanks. <Zoya> You're welcome. ::she turns over the rings to Shavyl, then pulls a small book with thick pages from her pocket and hands it to Diya:: For Aylin. <Diya> ::nods:: Diya is honored to carry the gift to Aisha and is sure her thanks will be given quickly. <Zoya> ::looks amused, and glances at Shavyl:: I'm sure they will be. <Lisl> Heh. ::takes another sip of 'kick:: Shame on me for forgetting... hm. Well, I'll have to think about what might suit Loria. * Shavyl plays with the wooden ... thingie... for a while, completely ignoring the adults in the room. <Rhys> How's the foot, Temire? Do you think you'll be able to walk home all right? * Lisl takes another sip of 'kick and sets the cup down, shading golden-tinged eyes with one hand as she massages her forehead. "Whoo. That stuff catches up. Note for the future, Rhys... smaller portions, I think, or I won't be walking home either." <Temire> ::nods:: It doesn't hurt so bad that I can't get around on it or even fight on it, just very, very annoying. <Rhys> I'll keep that in mind, Lisl. Although just because it's in the cup doesn't mean you have to drink it. <Lisl> ::raising an eyebrow:: You're okay with pouring it back? I'd just as soon it not get dumped. <Rhys> You're the only one drinking from it, so if you don't object, I can't imagine who would. But I'll still pour you a smaller glass next time around. <Lisl> ::grins:: Point. Not like it'll spoil for it, either. ::pushing her cup towards Rhys:: Cutting myself off, then. Some bread'd be appreciated, though, if you've any handy. * Diya tucks one arm around Shavyl's behind and settles her against his shoulder. "Diya thinks it is time to be heading home now." He digs, awkwardly one-handed, in his belt-pouch and pulls out two small silver coins, local currency, this time. * Rhys accepts the coins from Diya reluctantly. "Thank you, Master Diya. Happy birthday to your girls, and I hope you've bought everyone in your house some welcome peace." * Zoya finishes her ale and stretches like a cat. "Time for me to go, as well." She smiles at Diya. "Give my greetings to Kevil and Loria, please. And Aylin as well, of course." * Diya nods. "Diya hopes so, as well." <Lisl> ::nods:: Evening, Master Nabihazan. When you've a bit of free time, I'd be happy to take you hunting again. Shavyl, good seeing. Happy birthday. ::smiles:: * Shavyl waves one hand before settling herself onto Diya's shoulder. * Zoya pulls a gold coin from her pouch and lays it gently on the bar. "Good night, Master Rhys." <Temire> Night Diya, Shavvie, Zoya. * Diya leaves the Hall. <Lisl> Evening, Zoya. ::grins:: Get home safe. <Rhys> Good night, Zoya. Pleasant evening to you. <Zoya> ::nods to Temire, then claps Lisl on the shoulder:: You should come up to the Tower to visit more. ::she heads into the night, already lifting a hand to summon some magic as she steps into the alley. * Rhys sweeps Zoya's coin into the box. * Temire removes the ice from her foot and wriggles her toes experimentally, "That feel's suitably numbed." She pulls her stocking back on and stands up placing a few coins on the bar, "Thanks for the service Rhys." <Lisl> ::slides off her stool, keeping a hand on the bar as she tests her head and her balance:: Right. I'm good. ::looks at Temire:: Care for a walk home? The drunk leading the lamed? <Rhys> You're welcome, Temire. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. <Lisl> ::grins:: Or some such marching order, anyway.... * Temire chuckles, "Are you sure I shouldn't be walking YOU home?" * Temire heads to the door and pulls her boots back on. <Lisl> Nah. I'd be sleeping here, were I that bad off. ::jerks a thumb at the ceiling as she digs out coins from her pouch with her other hand:: * Rhys nods. "The upstairs refinished quite well. It took some scrubbing, but I don't think you can see the scorch marks any longer." * Lisl puts a gold piece on the counter and goes over to retrieve her own boots. * Rhys sweeps the coin into the box and mutters, "This had better get easier over time." <Lisl> ::eyebrow:: Is it so hard to accept custom, Rhys? * Temire laughs, "Well if it becomes too much of a burden you could always retrieve Jelarthna. I'm sure Tyl would pay handsomely for that." <Rhys> Harder still to break with tradition. <Lisl> ::chuckles:: We'll do alright, Rhys. Always do. ::laces up her boots and pauses a moment as she straightens up before going to retrieve her bowstaff:: Temire, same offer stands. If you want to come sit in a blind with me for awhile, you'd be welcome. <Temire> ::smile:: Thanks Lisl. I'll take you up on that. This not having anything to do is grating on my nerves something fierce. <Lisl> Aye, I know the feeling. ::grinning:: Not that herd-stalking's all that much more exciting, but it's something that needs doing. Rhys, good evening to you! Night, Temire, sleep sweet. ::using her bow as a staff as she makes her way from the Hall:: <Rhys> Good night, Lisl. * Temire heads out after Lisl, "Hey Lisl, I thought you were walking me home?" * Rhys locks the door behind the two, and starts snuffing candles as he heads back towards the bar, the Hall darkening around him. |
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