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* Michelle unlocks the door and announces, "Hall's Open!" * Zoya enters, a book tucked in the crook of her arm. "Good evening, Michelle... Looks quiet tonight." She settles on a stool. "Ale, please?" * Michelle returns behind the bar. She's wearing a dark blue dress, with a silver chain hung around her waist. Her hair is loose and her usual moon earring is offset with a silver hoop in the other ear. * Michelle selects a mug and fills it from one of the multitude of taps. "How are you this evening Zoya?" Places the mug on the bar in front of Zoya. <Zoya> Oh, I'm well enough. And you? ::she takes a sip from her mug:: <Michelle> ::shrug:: Well enough. ::smiles mischievously:: So shall we talk about the weather next? * Lisl enters, leaning her bow-staff in the corner. "Evening, all. Zoya! What pry-bar got you out of the Tower this evening?" <Zoya> ::grins at Michelle:: We could do something about it, instead... * Jaret strolls in, wearing a dapper slate blue jacket and breeches over a black shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons. His sword hangs at its usual place at his side, and he removes his plumed hat as he enters. "Good evening, ladies." He bows and proceeds to the bar. "I trust you are all well?" <Michelle> Good evening Lisl, the usual? ::returns Zoya's grin:: Think the rest of the city would appreciate it? <Lisl> Glass of Sembian, I think. It's the evening for it. <Michelle> Good evening Jaret. I'm well enough. Can I get you anything? <Zoya> ::nods to Lisl in greeting:: My apprentice, actually. I know she's excited to have something new to study, but if she'd interrupted me one more time with, "Mistress Zoya! Did you know-" I was going to have to contemplate turning her *back* into a bookworm. ::grins:: <Lisl> Evening, Jaret. Well enough, now that I'm not mouldering. <Zoya> ::smiles at Jaret, then winks at Michelle:: We'll save it for another time. I rather like the weather tonight. * Michelle selects a snifter and fills it from beneath the bar. "There you are Lisl." <Jaret> Goblet of Arabellan Red, please, Michelle, delighted to hear that you're well. Mouldering, Lisl? A tree didn't fall on you or anything, did it? * Michelle uncorks a bottle for Jaret and pours a glass for him, "There you go Jaret." * Jaret rolls the wine around in the glass before taking his first sip. "Lovely. Simply lovely." <Lisl> ::chuckles:: Poor Vallel, then. ::turning to Jaret:: No... I just wasn't as well-prepared for swamp season this year. Makes a girl long for dry ground, y'know? I went to visit Mother for awhile. Improved my outlook immensely, not that I'd admit it to her. <Zoya> ::laughs:: <Jaret> The only preparations I've heard of that are foolproof for swamp season are in fact to relocate to another area, so I commend you on your choice, while I am likewise pleased at your return. I salute you. ::Jaret does so by having another swallow of his beloved wine:: <Lisl> ::chuckles:: Well, the rain seems to have let off for a bit. I got in some decent hunting today, at least. If it hadn't, my next stop would be Anauroch. <Zoya> Wouldn't that be taking it a bit to extremes? * Michelle quirks an eyebrow, "This is Lisl." <Jaret> Oh, now, that wouldn't yield you decent hunting, would it? Unless... what have you been hunting? <Lisl> ::grins:: And what's wrong with that? Just the thing of a holiday. Makes you appreciate the damp. <Zoya> ::laughs:: If you decide to give up and go, offer to take Kevil with you, would you? He can't so much as say hello without griping about the damp. <Lisl> Heh. I'm not picky, Jaret. Around here, it's deer, rabbit, duck, quail and suchlike, for the most part. The occasional owlbear. Up there... ::considers and shrugs:: whatever's particularly dangerous, valuable, or good eating, really. Lots of rodents, snakes... there are rabbits and quail in the desert, too, come to think. <Jaret> Owlbear? Hopefully to prevent ravages on the landscape. Predator meat is... an acquired taste. <Lisl> ::grins in Zoya's direction:: Oh, I have... friends that seem to like it. <Zoya> ::grins back at Lisl:: She could use some more, by the way. I think she misses you. <Lisl> Yes, well, I'm good at dodging. I'll see about it. I've got more deer than I know what to do with myself, certainly. <Jaret> Fair enough. I'll be content with whatever quail and duck I can finagle out of you. ::he has some of his wine, and grins:: <Zoya> That's an improvement on this spring, you must admit. <Lisl> I take requests, Jaret, if there's something particular you've a taste for. Provided it's not *too* exotic. <Lisl> ::snorts:: *Anything's* an improvement on this spring. <Jaret> Oh, no. I enjoy the usual local fauna. What's most enjoyable is seeing what a talented chef makes of the beast. <Lisl> Ha! Not my department. I just bag 'em and eat 'em. * Lisl sips her brandy. "So are you hiring a chef, then, Jaret? Any chance I could volunteer to help interview?" She winks. <Zoya> ::grins:: I thought you preferred your meat with bits of fur still clinging to it, Lisl? <Jaret> I really should. However, that's customarily a live-in position, and I don't have quarters ready for anyone right now. So I'm contemplating putting another wing onto the house. And that thought is enough to keep me dining out in the city. <Lisl> Aye, well, always working on expanding those horizons. I thought this year I'd work on learning what "civilized" means. You know, those folk that knock on doors and whatnot. * Lisl grins broadly. <Zoya> ::looks suitably impressed:: You've really got your work cut out for you, then... Drop by the Tower. I'm sure Glossaria would enjoy looking up some books on civilization for you. <Lisl> ::snorts:: I'm sure she would. I don't want to read about it, though. Marsember's a big enough city. I'm certain I can find a fine restaurant or two, an art gallery, something musical... Aerdrie knows I've got talent enough to draw on for advice, eh? <Zoya> ::laughs:: <Zoya> ::to Jaret:: Would adding a wing really put you that far out of pocket? Or is it the hassle? ::her eyes twinkle:: I could lend a hand... <Jaret> It's the whole ordeal. The carpentry, and the sawdust, and the racket, and the draft from the open holes in the walls, and the creaking and the smell of drying plaster. <Lisl> ::dryly:: I'm sure Zoya could at least take care of *that* problem for you. <Zoya> Oh, yes! ::brightly:: I can fix you right up so you can't smell a *thing*! ::grins:: <Jaret> Priestess, I don't mean the slightest disrespect, but while I hold your sorcery and magics in the highest esteem, due to their inherent random nature and chaotic temperament, I don't know that modifications borne out of such spellcraft would meet the local building codes and regulations. And please, I do enjoy my sense of smell.... * Lisl chuckles. <Lisl> Hey... what about a mother-in-law cottage? Er.. an outbuilding, I mean. You'd have the space and some of the noise, I'd imagine, but not near so much as an attached wing. <Jaret> Mm, perhaps. It's something to consider. I wonder how autumn would be for construction. I don't know if there's enough time before winter arrives. <Zoya> ::chuckles and has some more of her ale:: * Calareven enters the Hall, looks around the room once, and strides to the bar. She is an elf of slightly taller stature than usual, with very dark, straight brown hair that she wears warrior-short. Her eyes are an odd almost-hazel color. She's wearing matching chain mail, breastplate, and rapier of elven make, with graceful blue curves running the length of the sword and up and down the breastplate. <Calareven> Water, please, barkeep. ::her Common is slightly accented, but perfectly fluent:: * Lisl sits up a little straighter as the stranger comes in, tilting her head a little to give her a quick up-and-down out of the corner of her eye before nodding neutrally. "Evening." * Calareven assesses Lisl before nodding in return. "Evening." * Jaret stands and bows to the newcomer. "Good evening, and allow me to welcome you to the Meade Hall." * Zoya glances around and smiles. "Good evening." * Calareven takes her glass of water from Michelle and takes a sip from it. She calmly then spits in the glass, and pitches the water into Jaret's face. <Zoya> ::blinks:: ...Jaret? * Jaret is standing before the drops of water hit the floor. "Please, your name before we get to business." * Lisl is on her feet as well, but holds herself in check, recognizing this as Jaret's fight. * Calareven puts the glass down. "Calareven a'Torenthian of House Ivellios. Ambassador Ilunesalaith, whom you insulted by bringing a N'Tel'Quessir into his presence, is my grandfather. He was unable to respond due to his position, however I am under no such restraints as to feign politeness when confronted with such villainy." <Zoya> ::winces very slightly, then leans back against the bar to watch:: * Lisl stiffens, eyes widening a little, and then narrowing. She looks suddenly speculative. * Jaret takes out a pristine white handkerchief and cleans his face off. "Obviously politeness isn't a concern for you. The ambassador had no complaint about my guest to his inaugural ball. You have either been misled, or have some other quarrel with me. Apologize and I will consider forgiveness. Reveal your true complaint and we can resolve it as you will." * Calareven flushes red, and grips the hilt of her sword. "There is no apology. Unless you are not Jaret Malkier? The man I heard of is a man who fancies himself honorable and dignified, and wouldn't accept an apology with his insulter's sputum still dropping from his face. If I am mistaken, then I apologize. Otherwise, I wish to arrange satisfaction." <Zoya> ::raises her eyebrows:: I thought you were rather beyond hotheads attempting to make names for themselves by challenging you, Jaret. <Jaret> ::it is Jaret's turn to turn crimson, and he grips the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white in a heartbeat:: I have been too forgiving, apparently, Priestess. You have your challenge, stripling. As challenged, I choose the weapons. Rapiers it shall be. I hope that you know how to use what you carry. * Lisl moves her lips silently, frowning deeply in thought as she watches the exchange. * Calareven smiles, the anger draining out of her face, replaced by a look of triumph. <Lisl> Ah! <Calareven> Are you sure, Landless Lord? If you would perhaps favor a different weapon, perhaps more suited to your stature? The table knife, perhaps? * Zoya glances at Lisl. * Lisl narrows her eyes. * Jaret gets even redder. "I have selected rapiers, and rapiers it will be. Now choose the time of your final humiliation. I am eager to hear it." <Lisl> ::her voice is soft:: Copper-colored eyes... someone's looking for you, little half-elf. <Calareven> Not as pleased as I am to speak it. I have pressing business elsewhere anon, so shall we say... fifty years from today? * Zoya looks at Lisl, then looks harder at the elf-girl. * Jaret falters. "Foul. I call foul! You know what you say is unfair. Choose a reasonable date. Your business cannot have you leaving town so soon that dawn tomorrow is out of bounds." * Michelle watches the preceding, a calculating look in her eyes. * Calareven smiles, lights in her eyes dancing. "Oh, but it does. My ship leaves with the midnight tide, and we do not expect to return until my stated date. It is unfortunate that I could not track your worthless, pocked hide down until this evening, but you're a slippery man, Malkier. My choice stands. Fifty years from this day. The banks of the River Starwater. Don't forget your seconds." <Lisl> ::snorts:: Treachery breeds true in the line, I see. <Michelle> And where, may I ask, is your destination? * Zoya takes another sip of her ale, and looks amused. <Calareven> ::her mirthful eyes still on Jaret:: My destination is my business. Thank you for the water, barkeep. * Jaret hesitates. "Who asked you for this? Why? Another date, or another reason. This is nonsense." * Lisl flares her nostrils, her eyes golden as she studies the hateful elf. <Lisl> Seems pretty simple to me, Jaret. Her line is famed for shirking duty, after all. The gods know she probably couldn't beat you in a *fair* fight. <Calareven> Child Lord, accept the time or the insult. If the time does not suit you, and your honor is as pitiable a thing as I know it to be... accept the insult. I'm sure it will only sting your pride for a moment. A moment, or another bottle of your wine, perhaps. * Calareven turns to Lisl. "I am afraid I have a duel already in my schedule. Perhaps when I am done with him, I could look forward to having you twitching on the end of my blade?" <Lisl> I doubt it. I'll fight you most happily, if Jaret leaves anything of your pitiable corpse. But by Nacheyla's eyes, you fight me, girl, and your seconds will be bringing you home in a sack. <Michelle> ::Michelle's eyes light up with recognition:: * Jaret struggles, then straightens his back. "Fifty years. Bring your own seconds. And a coffin. You will not have the privilege of going west." * Calareven smiles, nodding to Jaret. "I will see you in a half-century, then." She turns to Lisl. "And you, as well, I suppose." She reaches into her pocket and places a copper piece on the bar. "For the water. Thank you. I've never had sweeter." She turns and makes for to leave the Hall. * Lisl watches her go as if her eyes could smoulder holes into her back. <Zoya> Well. That was interesting. I'd book ringside seats, if I thought I'd still be alive in fifty years. * Jaret watches Calareven leave, his expression placid, almost confident. <Lisl> I'd offer to be your first second in a shot, Jaret, if I didn't have someone else with a stronger claim in mind. * Calareven leaves the Hall. A single bell-like giggle is heard from the alleyway after she passes out of sight, and then she is gone. * Jaret slowly settles down into his stool at the bar. * Michelle places her hands around Calareven's mug and mutters a quiet spell, a sphere of light surrounding the mug and some of the spilled water and it begins to float a few inches above the bar along with Calareven's copper. * Lisl clenches her hand into a fist at the sound. Luckily, there was nothing in it at the time. * Michelle closes her eyes in concentration for a moment. * Jaret looks over. "What're you doing, Michelle?" <Lisl> ::looking up at the ceiling:: Na-- ::breaks off with a sigh:: Well, if she didn't hear it the first time, little point disturbing her rest, I suppose. She must be with Xarroch. * Michelle opens her eyes and sighs, then pulls a bottle of amber liquid from beneath the bar along with a handful of shotglasses. "Just checking that the snake tongued wench was gone. Oh, do you mean the mug. I don't know if it will do Nachan any good, but I figured it couldn't hurt to save what physical evidence we have. Assuming I'm current on my hunch. Lisl?" * Michelle fills one of the shot glasses, "Anyone else want tequila?" * Jaret slowly reaches out, takes his wine, and has a swallow. His hand is very much not shaking. <Jaret> No, thank you Michelle. I think I'm fine here. <Lisl> She's got Nach's eyes, mostly. And it took me a bit, but I *knew* I'd heard that house-name before. Nach's ex. The slick-tongued bard that stole her children from her and ran off and left her in a bad way. * Michelle tosses back her shot. "Jaret... I can probably put you in an enchanted sleep that would keep you from aging. But of course, you'd be asleep for fifty years." <Michelle> ::nods:: That's what I thought. I needed your reference to Nachan to make the connection myself. * Jaret nods, still somewhat on auto-pilot. "Oh, thank you Michelle, that's... I don't know. I need some time. Not quite fifty years, of course, but a few days." <Zoya> Days? Just what are you going to do? <Lisl> ::sighs:: I told her I'd ask mother to ask around. It's... not a name that gets bandied about all too often... wouldn't surprise me if there was something *else* shameful to their behavior. Unless it was just that the children were all half-breed spawn. Not a taint that goes away, to high society. ::looks sour:: <Michelle> ::nods:: The offer stands if you want it. The gods know you've got time to think things through. * Michelle quirks an eyebrow at Lisl, "You've encountered her before?" * Jaret finishes his wine and sets the goblet on the table. He stands and pulls a few silver pieces out of his pouch and stacks them on the bar. "I'm going to contemplate the best way to meet my new appointment." <Jaret> And thank you, Michelle. <Lisl> Hells, no. ::looking at Michelle with a wry smile, tweaking one softly-pointed ear:: You think I got these from my father's side? * Michelle nods, "You're welcome Jaret." <Lisl> ::looks over:: Jaret? I shouldn't even have to say, but-- anything you need of me, any aid, it's yours. * Michelle looks perplexed for a moment then smiles, "Oh, wrong her. Sorry." * Jaret nods. "It's always good to hear it said, Lisl. Thank you." <Zoya> And I. Though quite honestly, if you wouldn't trust my magic to build a wing on your house, you probably wouldn't trust it to extend your lifespan, either... ::she grins at Jaret, swigs back the last of her ale, and picks up her book:: <Jaret> I had best be going on. Good night, everyone. <Zoya> I should be getting home. No doubt Glossaria has compiled a vast list of information for me in my absence. <Lisl> Sleep sweet, Jaret. <Zoya> Good night, Jaret. Sleep well. ::she nods to everyone else:: Good night to the rest of you, as well. <Lisl> ::grins at Zoya:: I'd pity you, if I didn't know you'll probably get fascinated despite yourself. <Michelle> Good night Jaret, Zoya. <Zoya> ::half-smiles:: Perhaps. If only her timing was a bit better... ::heads out into the night:: * Lisl glances a little guiltily over her shoulder to be sure that Jaret is gone before swigging the rest of her brandy in two swallows. "Ahhhh. I'm almost tempted to ask for a 'kick for the road, but I have a deep desire to go kill something slithery or smelly, at the moment. Best keep a clear head." * Michelle sighs and pours herself another shot, "Lisl, tell me. What's the etiquette concerning duels? What if Jaret and this wench just happened to run into each other over the next fifty years. Could they fight then, or would they still have to wait?" <Lisl> Heh. Jaret'd be the best to ask-- he's the expert on such things. But from the traditions I know, no. ::strokes her chin:: Actually... I heard tell of a couple of old men in Kara-Tur who had set a duel for the fall of a particular year-- I think the idea was to give one man's son time to gain his majority, or somesuch. <Lisl> Anyway, the duel was over some point of honor-- *don't* ask me to explain Kara-Tur honor, it's beyond me. But the two men respected one another a great deal, and even became friends in the interim. But, time came, they drew swords on one another, and one died. <Lisl> ::Frowns thoughtfully:: The other adopted his son as his own. Funny culture. <Michelle> ::nods:: But as this was a dirty trick rather than a point of honor between respected individuals... I just want to find a loop hole so that Jaret can shove that conniving bitches words down her throat. <Lisl> ::snorts:: She tricked him on a point of honor... even if he could, he wouldn't. That'd be stooping to her level, and Jaret's leagues above that. <Lisl> If Jaret dies, he'll do it with honor intact. She couldn't deprive him that, at least. And if she thinks she's going to live long enough to see his dead body hit the ground... Nach or no, she'll find herself *gravely* mistaken. ::smiles mirthlessly:: <Michelle> ::sigh:: I know Jaret's good... I'd just hate to see Jaret fall to such an underhanded trick. I'd rather see him get a poisoned arrow or shiv in the back than something like this. <Lisl> ::snorts:: *I* wouldn't. He... ::frowns:: He's up to something, I'm fairly sure of it. I'm a little worried that he's going to do something foolish... but then, he wouldn't be Jaret if he didn't. <Michelle> ::sigh:: As much as I like hearing that Lisl, doesn't that besmirch Jaret's honor? I thought the entire point of duels like this was to keep things from descending into open warfare? <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow:: What would besmirch his honor? * Michelle knocks her second shot back, "Can't argue with that statement." <Michelle> Killing that bitch if she manages to win the duel. <Lisl> Ha. ::grins:: No, she challenged me fair and square, you heard it. Though you notice she didn't bother to get my name... and I insulted her at *least* as badly, to her face, as she pretends her grandfather was. No, she has a particular mad-on for Jaret, for some reason. I *do* wonder about that. <Michelle> ::nods:: I'm wondering if maybe someone's using her and her siblings to get at Nachan through her friends. Or maybe I'm just getting paranoid working here so long. <Lisl> ::shrugs:: It's a possibility, I'd suppose. But... ::frowns:: No, there's definitely something more to this. Hm. I may need to have another talk with Mother, now I have the girl's lineage. <Michelle> Could be a drow hater I suppose. Though I'd think she'd have been more up front about it if that was the case. Drow aren't exactly popular after all. <Lisl> It'd certainly be the safest way to get at Lini, I suppose. Tho' I wouldn't trust her not to run the honorless wench through, herself, if she learned of it. * Michelle pours and knocks back a third shot. "Well this idle speculation is getting us nowhere. I'd try tracking her, but it doesn't sound like Jaret would take me up on the offer of a teleport. I suppose I'll start preparing the things I need for the sleep spell in case Jaret decides to go that route." <Lisl> ::nods:: I'd best... hmm. Well, I'll see if I can't get a message to Mother, and to Nach. If she's incommunicado right now, least I can do is be sure the news is waiting on her return. <Lisl> I-- ::shakes her head:: She's not going to like this. But by the gods, I hope she lets one of us kill her. <Michelle> ::nods:: I'm going to leave her a note about this mug. I don't know if it will do her any good, but if anyone can make use of it, Nachan can. <Michelle> I'll leave the killing to you. Unless I think of a particularly creative fate that's worse than death. * Lisl snorts. * Michelle pulls a piece of paper and a charcoal pencil from beneath the bar and starts to write a note to Nacheyla. <Lisl> Right. I'm off, then. ::sets her empty snifter on the floor, and collects her bowstaff on her way out. At the door, she pauses briefly, looking towards the city gates, in the direction of Jaret's home. With a sigh, she heads towards her own hearth.:: * Michelle finishes her note, then shoos the rest of the dishes into the kitchen before dimming the lamps and locking the door behind her. |
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