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* Blake fiddles with the key that he is wearing around his neck on a chain, fumbling it in the lock until it turns. "There. Now what?" He looks around the Hall somewhat dubiously. He pulls out a long scrap of paper from his trousers and reads it slowly. "Um. Hall's open." * Blake is a tall, lanky man wearing dark blue pants, boots, and a brown poncho over his shirt. He has close-cropped brown hair and a flat, broad-brimmed hat that hangs down his back from a cord around his throat. * Tarri enters, her nose buried in a book. She's marking at least three pages with her fingers, flipping back and forth between sections and muttering under her breath. She makes it all the way to the bar and is already half-seated on a stool when she realizes she doesn't know the man behind the bar. "Good even- Oh! Um..." She looks around to make sure she's in the right place. "Um, hi. Are you new?" * Jaret enters, wearing a white ruffled shirt under a midnight blue jacket, with breeches of the same color. He takes off a lightweight black raincloak as he enters and hangs and his plumed hat from a peg. His sword hangs at his usual place at his side. "Good evening, Miss Mandeil... and barkeep." <Blake> ::moves behind the bar:: Hello. What's your poison? ::he consults the little sheet of paper in his hand again, squinting:: * Lisl nudges the door open with her heel and backs/sidles in carefully, a fat, six-point buck straddling her shoulders. "Figured I'd stock the larder while the hunting's good... could you get the kitch--" she stops and turns at the unfamiliar voice from the direction of the bar. "Oh. Who're you?" <Tarri> Just some cider would be fine, thanks... Oh, good evening, Lord Malkier. How are you tonight? <Blake> ::Consulting his sheet, Blake attempts to fill Tarri's request. What he hands her, however, looks almost exactly nothing like cider:: Um... sorry, ma'am. You want this, and should I try again? <Tarri> Um... ::glances at the others, then eyes the drink:: I'll... try this, and then decide. ::she smiles at him:: I understand the taps are not always very... obedient. <Blake> ::nods:: She said that. ::he looks somewhat grouchy, his mouth thinning to an almost non-existent line:: * Blake turns to Lisl. "Evenin'. You can call me Blake, if you have a need to name me." <Tarri> She? ::sniffs gingerly at her not-cider attempting to ascertain whether it will do anything unpleasant to her:: * Tarri takes a tentative sip, then a bigger one. "Ooh, this is *wonderful*!" <Blake> ::smiles again:: Well, that's just fine, then. ::consults his little piece of paper:: This ain't *exactly* what I signed up for, but what can you do? <Tarri> Are you... filling in for someone? <Jaret> I'm well enough, Miss Mandeil. How does tonight find you. Good evening, Lisl. Barkeep, I'll have an Arabellan Red, and the pleasure of your name, if you'll give it. I am Jaret Malkier, gentleman and swordsman. * Blake checks his paper. "Oh good. Yours comes in bottles like a *normal* tavern." He fishes around under the bar before coming up with a bottle and pours Jaret a glass. "As I said, you can call me Blake. T'ain't much of a name, but it's what I got." <Tarri> I'm quite well. Bit of a puzzle over one of my patients- ::she gestures to her book:: -but I think I've about got it sorted out, now... <Lisl> Blake. ::nods, considering him with slightly narrowed eyes for a moment, and tilts her head to the side in lieu of shrugging:: Lisl. Would you mind getting the kitchen door, Blake? This old man's not getting any lighter. ::hitches the deer up higher on her shoulders as a hind leg threatens to get away from her:: * Blake nods and helps her with the deer. "That's a fair buck, Lisa." <Lisl> It's Lisl. The door, not the deer, if you will. <Blake> Oh. Sorry, ma'am. ::he opens the door:: <Lisl> My thanks. ::disappears into the kitchen with a quick backward raised-eyebrow at Jaret.:: * Blake moves back behind the bar. "Pardon, Terry, you said something?" <Lisl> ::muffled sounds of thumping and clinking and shuffling about sound from the kitchen as Lisl hangs the deer in the cold room with last week's offering:: * Tarri sips her tea again. "I was wondering if you were filling in for someone?" <Blake> ::nods curtly:: Yeah. Her. ::he glances upward:: She didn't tell me her name, but I ain't in the habit of arguing with gods. <Tarri> ::sputters and almost spits out her tea, then grins:: Lady Nacheyla? I wonder why she couldn't make it... Is she all right? * Jaret has some of his wine. "Ah... you're acquainted with Her Refulgence, then?" <Blake> ::nods again:: She saved my life. * Felice drifts in, sniffing the air as she goes with her eyes half closed, "Did Lisl bring me food? 'Evening Jaret, Tarri..." Blinks at Blake, "I don't know you." Felice is in full kawaii cat girl mode at the moment. * Lisl reenters from the kitchen, drying her hands on a bar towel. She takes her usual seat at the bar. "A mug of meade, if you will, sir." <Blake> ::nods to Felice:: That makes us 'bout even. ::gets a mug for Lisl and fills it with... something.:: Um. <Lisl> That'll probably do. ::accepts the mug and takes a sniff and a swig without any of Tarri's reticence.:: * Felice walks hesitantly to the bar, "Cream? Please?" Felice sits on the stool like a normal person. <Blake> ::checks his sheet of paper:: That, least, should be in the kitchen. ::he crosses the room and heads into the kitchen:: * Jaret looks at Lisl's mug curiously. "What did it dispense?" <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow again and regards her mug, and shrugs:: Spiced rum, I think. ::takes another swallow:: Aye... too smooth for that cinnamon stuff. Not bad. <Lisl> ::grins at Jaret:: All things considered, I figured it wouldn't be wise to ask for my usual. <Jaret> It probably is for the best. I apologize that I was unable to darken your door this past week, but I've been occupied. I did mean to pay you a visit. <Lisl> S'alright. ::eyes him keenly:: As long as you haven't made any, um, desperate bargains in the interim? Not quaffed anything you can't sweat out again? <Jaret> Oh, no. Nothing yet. Although Candra has agreed to produce the elixir, should I manage to acquire all the reagents and rarities that it will require. * Blake comes back into the room with a pitcher of cream, a glass and a plate of orange-cranberry scones. "I didn't make these. But help yourself." <Tarri> Ooh, those look good. Just the thing... ::she reaches down the bar and helps herself to a scone:: <Blake> ::pours Felice a glass of cream, looking at her somewhat bewhiskered face and tail without comment:: <Tarri> ::watches Blake watching Felice, and grins:: Did She warn you about us? <Blake> ::shrugs with one shoulder:: She said it was... different. Here. <Lisl> ::more quietly, to Jaret:: And... you've made up your mind to take it? Or are you taking things as they come? <Tarri> That's a good way to describe it, yes... <Felice> ::In a small voice:: Thank you. ::Picks her glass up with both hands and takes a sip, apparently trying to hide behind the glass:: <Jaret> I always take things as they come, and I don't know what will happen tomorrow anymore than you or our good 'keep here, but my present intent... yes, I intend to, once it is done. I cannot say I am without misgivings, but for now... perhaps, as always, I will leap first, and deal with the consequences once I am airborne. <Lisl> ::makes a face:: Yes, well... I'd hope to have a bit of a chat with you about those consequences before you leapt too far. ::looking wry:: Or at least, offer you a bit of perspective from the other side of the gorge. <Lisl> ::glances from Jaret to Blake and back:: Something tells me this would not be a good venue for discussing your, um, shopping list? <Blake> ::reaches into his pocket and pulls out another piece of paper:: Near about forgot, Lisel. ::hands her the piece of paper:: Sorry. <Jaret> There's only one item on it at the moment, but it has a staggering quality to it. Really, a second item would almost be overburdening, at the moment. We can talk, though. <Lisl> Lis-- ::sighs:: Lisel was close enough. ::accepts the paper and glances at it:: <Tarri> ::finishes her scone, licking crumbs off her fingers with satisfaction, before turning back to Blake:: So, where are you from, then? Obviously not Marsember, or you'd have known about us before. ::she grins:: <Blake> ::spreads his hands:: Well, not hereabouts, at any rate. Mexico, up til just recently. * Felice blinks at Blake over her glass. <Tarri> Mesh- ::frowns:: I've never heard of it... Is it far? <Lisl> ::her brows draw together as she reads the note. She glances a moment at Blake, stuffs the note in her pocket, and takes a swallow of her rum, turning back to Jaret:: So? What's item #1? <Blake> ::nods:: A right piece, yeah. It's... thataway. ::he points skyward, at a 60 degree angle:: * Jaret leans toward Lisl and whispers a few short sentences. * Lisl rears back and boggles at Jaret. <Jaret> She says it's the only thing that won't melt when it all gets mixed together. <Tarri> ::blinks, following Blake's finger, then smiles a bit nervously:: Oh. *That* kind of far... Well. ::she takes a quick breath and brushes down her skirts:: How do you like Marsember? <Blake> ::gives her a grin:: Peaceful. <Lisl> Where in the nine hells-- ::takes a breath, and pauses to think for a moment:: I don't suppose she remembered what she did with the *last* one she used? <Felice> ::blink:: Oh yeah, you missed the war. <Jaret> She said it got lost. <Tarri> ::laughs a little:: Mesh-ko must be a *really* enormous city, then, for this to seem peaceful... Maybe as big as Waterdeep, even. What do you do, when you're not doing favors for deities? <Lisl> Lost... where? <Blake> ::considers:: I'm a hired gun. ::thinks:: I haven't seen any guns 'round here. Guess you all have hired... swords? <Jaret> She didn't say. It sounds like she's spent a lively thirty years or so since we last saw her. <Lisl> ::glances over at Tarri's conversation with the barkeep:: Guns? Like... a shotgun? <Tarri> ::nods:: Mercenaries, yes... Lisl could probably tell you where the best places are to go if you're looking for that kind of work. I've *seen* a gun... But it didn't look very practical to me. Too much stuff to keep track of. <Blake> Pistole, actually. ::he flips up his poncho to reveal a gunbelt, ammo, and two weapons riding low on his hips:: <Tarri> ::eyes widen as she looks at his weapons:: Those are *tiny*! How do you get the powder in them? <Lisl> ::studies his gunbelt:: Aye... I've seen one like that before. No, you're *not* from around here, that's for sure. Tho' I'm not familiar with the territory you said you're from. * Blake unhoops a round from his belt. "They're made that way. Load it, aim, fire." <Blake> ::he lays the bullet on the bar where it gleams redly:: * Jaret watches Blake and his weapons curiously, but silently. * Tarri reaches out a finger to touch the bullet, stops a bit short, and pulls her hand back quickly. "Look how smooth it is! You must pay your smith a fortune..." She gives Blake a nervous smile. "Mesh-ko must be a very dangerous place." <Lisl> ::cocks her head at the bullet, murmuring:: Now, that'd be one way to bag your shopping item... naah. Too chancy. <Blake> ::twitches the side of his mouth:: You could say that. * Felice continues to watch the conversation from behind her glass. * Blake sets mode: +oo Felice Jaret <Lisl> ::watching Blake:: I think they cast them, Tarri. Like a frying pan... but, well, a *lot* smaller. Different metal. <Tarri> My frying pan isn't that perfect... That's smooth enough to be one of my scalpels. ::gives Lisl and Jaret a crooked smile:: Or sword-steel, maybe. <Blake> ::returns the bullet to his belt:: <Blake> It does the job, Terry. It does the job. <Tarri> ::takes another sip of her tea:: How long are you going to be in Marsember, Master Blake? Did She say? * Jaret edges over to Felice. "How does tonight find you, Felice?" <Lisl> ::shakes her head and takes another swallow of rum.:: <Blake> Maybe a week. Or so. Until her chap is better. * Felice sips her milk again, "Alright. I found a merchant who seemed to think it was fun to torture stray cats. I had to... educate him." <Lisl> ::clears her throat:: Chey's sick. She asked me to stop by her place later. ::pats the note in her pocket:: <Tarri> Oh, is Chey not well? ::looks over at Lisl:: Oh. Poor little tyke. <Jaret> Doesn't sound all right to me, not by far. <Lisl> Aye. ::a touch darkly:: I'm trying *not* to think of what could make *him* so sick he'd need his mother's full-time care, though. Or if it's catching. * Felice smiles tentatively, "Sorry. Answering affirmatively is a habit." <Jaret> Quite all right, Felice. 'keep? A bowl of ice cream for my friend here. She could use a treat. <Tarri> Well, I'm sure that's why Lady Nacheyla isn't coming in... Maybe he caught a cold from his father. ::grins, only the tiniest bit nervously:: <Blake> ::nods:: All right. ::he turns and wanders back into the kitchen:: * Felice perks up and impulsively kisses Jaret's cheek, "You're a sweetie Jaret. Can I take you home and keep you?" * Jaret smooths the fur atop Felice's head. "Afraid not. But if the 'keep can find a second spoon, I wouldn't mind a taste of the ice cream he brings you." * Blake comes back with a few bowls of ice cream and puts them down on the counter. "Nice help you got there in the kitchen. Shy though. I ain't seen him all night." <Tarri> ::giggles a little as she finishes her tea:: Yes, I guess he is. <Jaret> Well, it appears I'll get my own bowl, even. Riches beyond the dreams of mort... beyond the dreams of man. ::he has a small spoonful of ice cream:: <Lisl> ::grins:: The lert? Good to know the little guy's still around. I was afraid he'd gone the way of the mouse. ::glances at Jaret, catching his correction:: * Felice picks up a spoon, "I miss the mouse. They were fun." <Lisl> Hush. It might hear you. * Tarri eyes the ice cream. "What kind is it?" * Felice digs in, "The good kind." <Blake> ::sniffs:: Pecan. <Lisl> You have to ask? ::pulling a bowl towards her and grabbing a spoon in a knife-fighting grip:: <Tarri> Well, I'm supposed to meet 'Lann when he gets off-shift and have dinner with him. I wouldn't want to spoil my appetite, and I already had one of those lovely scones... ::she grins at Lisl:: I could probably have risked it, though, for some strawberry ice cream. <Felice> More for me! ::keeps eating:: <Lisl> ::grins:: Too late in the year. I think you'd have to wait for Rhys or Nach, for another bowl of that before spring. ::digging in and glomphing a large spoonful:: <Tarri> ::sighs:: I know. But then, you never know what Master Rhys might have made, and then put in the cold-box... ::she grins at Lisl:: * Jaret eats slowly and carefully, avoiding drips and too-large spoonfuls. <Lisl> Mfh. ::swallows her mouthful of ice cream in one gulp:: And kept it from you all this time? Rhys would never behave so shamefully towards a young lady. ::winks at Tarri:: <Tarri> ::laughs:: He might, if he were saving it for a time when I was *positive* there was no hope, in dire need.... ::she giggles:: <Lisl> ::grins and raises an eyebrow at Tarri:: And this seemed like a moment if dire need? Trolls at the gate? <Tarri> ...No, not really. I'm just saying, there *could* be strawberry ice cream back there. ::waves in the kitchen's general direction:: * Felice purrs, her eyes rolling into her skull as she savors the ice cream. <Lisl> Well, then... dare to dream. I'll just eat the rest. ::taking another large spoonful of ice cream and directing a mild annoyed glare at Felice:: <Felice> ::blinks innocently at Lisl:: * Blake shrugs and helps himself to the last bowl. <Lisl> ::takes a swallow of rum to clear her throat, muttering something in her mug that sounds a little like "hedonist":: * Felice sticks her tongue out at Lisl, then puts it to a better use by having more ice cream. <Lisl> ::disgustedly:: Cats. ::has some more ice cream, herself:: * Jaret has been quietly spooning his way through the ice cream, and pushes the empty bowl and no-longer-needed spoon away from himself. "Unexpected treats are almost always the best." <Blake> ::finishes his own, then begins the effort of cleaning up:: I reckon it's about time for you all to head out. <Jaret> Oh, it is, isn't it? ::he pulls some coins out of his pocket, and picks a few gold coins out and puts them on the counter:: For my wine, and everyone's ice cream. * Blake picks up one of the coins and bites it. "Rich place. A man could make some money here." * Felice rummages in her clothes and manages to come up with a few coins which she drops on the bar. "Thank you Mr. Blake." * Tarri stands up. "Yes, certainly. It was nice to meet you, Master Blake. I hope you enjoy your stay in Marsember." She gathers up her book, counts out a few coppers onto the counter, and waves. "Good night, everyone!" She heads out into the night with a bit of spring in her step. * Blake puts most of the coins in the lockbox. He considers the few left in his hand. "A man could... make some money." * Lisl glances out the window at the moon. With a nod, she picks up her bowl and (slightly guiltily) nearly inhales the contents, washing it down with a few long swallows of the rest of her rum. "Ahhhhh. That hit the spot. Thanks, Jaret." She wipes her mouth a bit primly on her bartowel. "It's an adventurer's bar, in a port town. Well enough off, but not without its own sorts of risks." * Felice finishes her food and hops off her stool, "Good night everyone." * Jaret has narrowed his eyes as Blake bites his coin. "New indeed, if you check my coin's veracity." He watches Blake weigh the coins in his hand. "What are you considering, Master Blake?" <Lisl> Night Tarri, Felice. ::she turns back, giving Blake a hard look, a glint of yellow in her eye:: And there are risks... for starters, we grow wildlife like you wouldn't believe, here. And I mean that. Stuff out of legend, from your neck of the woods. * Felice exits into the night. <Blake> ::raises an eyebrow:: Ain't you, Jared. Just don't see much gold coin, these days. <Jaret> ::taking a look at the coins still in Blake's hand:: The local currency, then, will be a startlement for you. <Lisl> If you're looking for a bit of work... other than this job you're doing to repay your life-debt, I mean, I can take you home to the Street of Steel. That's where most of the mercs around here hire out from. <Blake> ::nods again:: Perhaps. I ain't sure how long I'm staying. <Lisl> Well, if you like, I can wait while you lock up, and show you the way. I'm not doing much else just now. <Blake> ::nods:: All right. ::he considers the coins again, then shrugs and puts them in the lockbox:: Give me just a minute. <Jaret> ::settling his raincloak and hat on his head:: Fair evening to you both. Lisl, I'll do my best to visit this week. <Lisl> Right. ::nods to Jaret:: Sleep sweet, Jaret. We're set for some drizzle this week, so I'll likely be home. * Jaret nods to Lisl, and exits the Hall. * Blake finishes his clean up and then leaves the Hall, locking it carefully behind him and Lisl. "Lead on, Lisel." <Lisl> ::nods shortly and leads the way out of the Hall towards the Street of Steel. |
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