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* Rhys shuffles in from the kitchen, setting a small stack of bowls on the bartop before heading to the door and unlocking it. "Hall's open!" He returns back behind the bar. * Lisl enters, stretching. "Hm... I wonder if newts can stretch? Evening, Rhys!" She eyes the bowls. "What's the occasion?" <Rhys> It's early summer, and we've been known to have some loiterers around here who enjoy ice cream from time to time, and I've got some blackberry made up in the kitchen that came out quite nice. Although, if we need an occasion, I can put it away until one crops up. <Lisl> ::eyes lighting up:: Blackberry? <Lisl> What day is it, Rhys? * Rhys nods soberly. "Blackberry. And it's the 31st." <Lisl> Well then, Happy Kythorn's Eve to you. ::reaches over the bar to grab his hand (gently, for her) and shake it vigorously:: Now then, where are the spoons? * Rhys lets Lisl pump his hand for a while. When she disengages, he reaches under the bar and pulls out a few spoons. "I had some handy, in case people showed some interest. Can I assume you are?" <Lisl> Yes, very, thank you. And I will personally celebrate one more day in which I am not a newt. <Rhys> An excellent thing to be celebrating. I think I'll celebrate the same. Before I go back to scoop, can I get you anything to drink? <Lisl> I think... some of that... blast, what's it called? The fizzy stuff. Mist of the Peaks? Do the taps still know that one? It's been awhile. * Orlann walks in wearing his purple tabard. He has a scraped chin and a raw chunk of meat pressed firmly to one eye. "Evenin'." <Lisl> ::turns:: Evening, Sergeant. Damn, what happened to you? * Rhys rolls his eyes, reaches under the bar, and pulls out a bottle that has a stopper hinged onto it. He pulls the wire on the side of the neck out, and the stopper swings free. "Here. We have bottles of the stuff. It was all they'd dispense shortly after the Incident." <Lisl> Hunh. ::glances ceilingward:: Some sense of humor you have, Erdian. Thanks. <Rhys> Would you like some ice in a cloth, Sergeant? * Orlann takes a seat near Lisl. "Someone objectin' t'my 'meddlin''. Wouldna been s'bad, cept I didn' realize there was two of 'em. T'other one hit me from behind." <Lisl> Your meddling? ::frowns:: This... this isn't more of our rumormonger at work? <Orlann> I don't reckon, Miss Lisl. ::he shakes his head gingerly:: Yes, Master Rhys, I reckon I'd like some ice, iffen y'please. ::turns back to Lisl:: I was rightly told what I was doin' was most unwelcome. Been told not t'be investigatin' those murders few weeks back. <Lisl> ::expression darkening:: Oh *really* now? Did you just get off work? Have you been home yet? <Orlann> No, I ain't. Tarri's gonna go ballistic... ::he groans and takes the steak away from his eye. underneath is a truly nasty black eye:: <Lisl> Oooh, that's a nice one. Have a care, now... do me a favor and look up at the ceiling light, would you? ::turning towards him and gently taking his face between her hands:: * Rhys heads back into the kitchen, and takes two bowls with him. He comes out a few minutes later carrying tray. The bowls now hold scoops of blackberry ice cream, and a third bowl has a cloth wrapped around some ice. "Ten minutes on, then ten minutes off with that ice, Sergeant." * Orlann gives Lisl a rather one-eyed flat look. "I'm fine." <Lisl> ::sighs and releases him:: Just making sure you're not concussed. Though come to that, Tarri will likely do the same. * Rhys puts spoons near the bowls. * Orlann takes the ice pack and puts it up to his eye. "Don't I know it." <Lisl> ::grins, eyes lighting as she sees the full bowls:: My considered recommendation is, take two bowls and call Tarri in the morning. ::digs in with her spoon:: * Orlann twiddles a spoon absently, then takes a tentative bite. <Lisl> Thattaboy. Just think, life could be worse. You could be a newt. Oh! That reminds me... those smugglers who were attacked, did any of them survive? <Lisl> I mean, after being wounded? <Orlann> Yeah, I think so... they ain't what y'might call "co-operative" witnesses. <Lisl> Damn. ::pauses in spooning up ice cream, tapping the empty spoon against her lip thoughtfully:: The ones who were wounded... it might be a very, very good idea to round them up and incarcerate them by themselves in... ::glances out the window:: about three days. * Orlann narrows his eyes, winces and blinks. "Ow. Why?" <Lisl> Don't do that, it's likely to hurt. Because if you don't, there's the possibility you're going to have a bunch of brand-new bloodthirsty werewolves making life interesting down at the docks. ::takes another spoonful of ice cream:: <Orlann> D'you really think that's likely? ::he looks dismayed at the concept:: <Lisl> If the attacker *was* a werewolf, and she did the kind of damage you were talking about to all of them... aye, it's damn likely she's created at least one more. <Rhys> You'll want to get some friendly clergy to see them. * Orlann looks disgusted. "I don't reckon it'll be right easy t'find them that quick-like. They ain't in hospice no more an' they ain't right forthcomin' in talkin' with us." <Rhys> Oh, dear. * Kevil enters, his normally friendly expression marred by something between extreme irritation and a simple sulk. He offers a rather perfunctory bow to the room at large, and flops down into a chair with a distinct lack of his usual catlike grace. <Lisl> Dammit. ::sighs:: My fault. It only occurred to me recently, and I took my own sweet time talking to you about it. <Rhys> Good evening, Master Bard. Care for anything to drink? I've made a batch of blackberry ice cream that has yet to send its samplers running for friendlier confines, and you're welcome to a bowl. <Lisl> Hells. ::runs a hand through her hair:: Kevil? What's the matter with you? <Kevil> What? Oh, forgive me, Master Rhys. Yes, that would be welcome. And something sweet and strong to drink. <Kevil> ::glances at Lisl, then glares in the general direction of his house:: Loria kicked me out. <Lisl> She-- she *what*? <Kevil> She said that she did not think she could resist braining me one more second, and that I should leave until one of us was in a better mood. <Lisl> ::incredulously:: *Loria*? But... what happened? * Rhys takes a bowl into the kitchen, and returns with it full of ice cream. He considers the taps, and gets out a shot glass. He fills the shot glass halfway with a golden liquid, gets a spoon, places it over the shot glass, and pours what looks like milk over the spoon, layering it on top of the liqueur already in the shot glass. He places it near Kevil. "Say when you want another." * Orlann pokes at his ice cream a bit more. "I ain't... Lisl, c'n anyone else... provide any evidence, like?" <Kevil> Thank you. ::picks up the shot glass and downs its contents in a swift motion. He nearly coughs, but restrains it.:: I *did* ask for sweet... ::He picks up his spoon and samples the ice cream before turning back toward Lisl. <Lisl> ::quickly but regretfully finishes off her bowl of half-melting ice cream, hesitating a long moment before setting the empty bowl and spoon down with a sigh of regret.:: <Kevil> I suppose what happened is that we were both in foul moods to begin with, and proceeded to rub each other the wrong way for most of the evening. ::a little shamefacedly:: Mostly, perhaps, my fault. At least, Diya sided with Loria, and he usually remains neutral. <Lisl> ::glancing over at Orlann:: Evidence? What kind? <Orlann> T'indicate ::glances at Kevil:: that there might be some... ::twists his mouth:: "demonstrable risk"? <Lisl> It's alright, Orlann, Kevil knows. So does Rhys, for that matter. ::makes a face:: I'm not even sure she's a were. That was Zoya's first thought, on hearing about it, and I admit, it makes sense. There haven't been further wolf attacks since the first, have there? <Lisl> ::turning back to Kevil:: So... this is a... marital spat? Or... what brought on the bad moods to begin with? <Orlann> N'ma'am, there ain't been... but Miss Lisl, I need a *reason* t'arrest all them men. Cain't just go around arrestin' people... <Lisl> ::glumly:: True. Protective custody? <Kevil> ::shrugs:: I lost two commissions - one of which I had already finished - and a very lucrative contract. I do not *know* why she is irritable, unless I am to take seriously her complaint that I was tapping my foot arrhythmically. <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow at Kevil:: The rumors? <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: T'was offered to 'em after we found out 'bout the deadline. But they refused. We cain't force it on 'em. <Kevil> Presumably. ::he finishes his ice cream and looks at Rhys again:: I would like another now, if you please. <Rhys> ::smiling at Kevil:: Bowl of ice cream, drink, or both? <Kevil> ::looking like he'd rather be grumpy, but is too polite to snap:: Drink, please. <Kevil> ::eyes Orlann:: But you know the general area of the first attack, and with the deadline approaching, you have reason to increase your patrols there, d'va? It might have to suffice. * Orlann nods glumly. "I cain't arrest people on a 'might be'." * Rhys pours another drink, using the same methodology as the first. <Lisl> Hells. ::downs her Mist in several long chugs, giving a rather loud and surprised belch as she puts the mug down:: This could get very, very messy... ::runs a hand through her hair:: Zoya suggested I should stay as far away as possible from that she-wolf, but under the circumstances... * Kevil nods his thanks to Rhys, then tosses back the second drink more smoothly than the first. * Orlann lowers his ice pack and blinks muzzily. <Kevil> ::looks at Orlann as if only now registering his state:: Speaking of marital spats... Have you just left a scene of domestic disharmony, or are you about to go home to one? I have yet to meet a healer who did not take damage to their loved ones as a personal affront. <Orlann> Y'd be right about that, Master Kevil. Tarri's right likely t'take th' rest of my head off. * Kevil tries to hide his satisfaction at knowing he isn't the only one in the doghouse, and almost succeeds. <Orlann> She's gonna be right cross that I let m'self get hit in th'face with a chair-leg. ::frowns, then winces:: Ow. <Lisl> ::leans her head against her hand, covering her eyes:: Aerdrie... I can see this turning into another damn Myth Drannor... <Lisl> ::snorts:: You're right, you should have stopped it, what *were* you thinking? <Orlann> I was thinkin' that th' dagger headed at m' chest was a bit more pressin' concern, honest... ::attempts to look both innocent and affronted:: <Kevil> Indeed. ::sighs:: At least you have a better- At least you have an excuse. <Lisl> ::grins, getting into the spirit of it:: Bah! It would have bent upon your steely thews! Your eyes are much more delicate. You really should keep them away from chair legs. * Orlann gives Lisl the most disgusted look possible with a very sore face. "Ha. Ha. ha." <Lisl> ::mock-glares at Kevil:: And you did *not* just hear me say "steely thews." <Kevil> ::grins evilly at Lisl:: Oh, I most certainly *did*. Zoya shall hear of this! <Lisl> Gods, no. ::rubs her eyes:: Being a newt is looking better and better. <Kevil> ::laughs, suddenly looking much better:: * Lisl grins to herself. * Orlann pushes his empty bowl of ice cream away. "I'm right grateful f'r this, Master Rhys... bit m'tongue, s'well. This helps." * Kevil sighs. "Peace offering... Master Rhys, is it at all possible that a certain amount of this ice cream could be packaged for transport? <Rhys> I'm glad to be of aid, Sergeant. And of course, Master Bard. I think we have a small waxed pint container in the back that I can fold into shape. The instructions seemed quite detailed. <Lisl> ::frowns at a sudden thought:: Kevil... do you know if Loria can lift curses? <Kevil> ::touches the amulet around his neck thoughtfully:: Yes, she can. <Lisl> Hm. ::looking a bit more cheerful:: Perhaps the Dragons could borrow her services... or maybe Nach's. That would be one way to take care of it. * Rhys heads into the kitchen, and comes out a few minutes later with a small box made of thick, waxed paper, set in a bowl filled with ice. "I may be overdoing it, but it was quite warm earlier today, and I'd hate for your offering to be sweet blackberry milk by the time you arrived at your home." <Kevil> ::smiles:: I am extremely grateful, Master Rhys. <Rhys> And I am happy to be of service. A perfect match. * Orlann digs through his pocket and pulls out a few copper coins only slightly less battered than himself. "For th' treat, Master Rhys." <Lisl> ::rubs her chin:: Hells, why didn't I think of this before? ::dryly answering her own question:: Because usually, I don't have easy access to a cleric when it happens... dammit. I've got to go talk to Nacheyla. * Rhys grudgingly accepts the coins. "Very welcome, Sergeant. I hope you heal quickly." * Kevil puts several silver coins on the bar, then bows to the room at large far more gracefully than when he entered. "Forgive my lapse of courtesy, my friends. I bid you all a fair evening." <Lisl> ::making a face:: *Before* I get turned into a newt. <Lisl> Goodnight, Kevil. Please let Loria know I may be coming to consult with her tomorrow. <Kevil> ::glances at Lisl as he gathers up the ice cream:: Zoya is a priestess as well, now, is she not? <Kevil> ::nods:: I shall. <Rhys> Good night, Master Bard. Pleasant evening to you. <Lisl> Aye, she is, but she's told me before that Erdian's not too big in the healing department. ::mutters to herself:: Still, she cast out those demons.... <Lisl> ::standing suddenly and putting a handful of random coins on the bar:: I've got to go. Do you think it's too late to-- no, I'd better try to see her. Can't be worse than being a newt.... * Orlann gets up and puts the ice pack back to his face. "I reckon I'd best get this over with." He leaves. <Lisl> Evening, all. Thanks for the ice cream, Rhys. * Kevil waves farewell, then heads out into the night at a fast walk. Those who know him well would recognize the tilt of his head as his posture of composition, and might guess he is already creating his apology. * Lisl waves absently and leaves. <Rhys> Evening. * Rhys follows Lisl to the door and locks it behind her. He collects used bowls and glasses at the bar, and heads back into the kitchen, dousing the lights as he goes. |
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