Main Page |
* Rhys ambles in from the kitchen, carrying a mug of water with a wedge of lemon on its lip with him that he sets on the counter before heading over to unlock and open the door to the side alley. "Hall's open!" He returns behind the bar and has a swallow of his water. * Adam stoops as he enters the Hall, raising himself to his full height once inside. "Good evening Rhys." <Rhys> Evening, Adam. Can I get anything for you? * Orlann walks in, yawning. His tabard is draped over one arm. "Fair evenin' t'you, Master Rhys." <Rhys> And the same to you, Lieutenant. What is your drink of choice tonight? * Adam walks over and has a seat at the bar, "Sure. I'd like a marquita if you can manage it. Otherwise I'll take a beer." Adam smiles pleasantly at Rhys. * Adam turns as Orlann enters, "Good evening Lieutenant. How are things going?" * Orlann takes a seat near the bar. "Tea, please. Right strong. Pulled m'self a double shift, t'day." <Adam> Are the Dragons short staffed again? * Missa enters, a ready smile on her lips, and bows to the room in general. She is wearing a brilliant yellow tunic over blousy turquoise trousers, the glare of the yellow slightly reduced by a deep red vest. She makes her way to the bar and helps herself to the stool next to Orlann. <Rhys> I haven't the faintest idea what a marquita is, so a beer it'll be. ::he draws Adam the beer from the taps:: And I'll get you your tea in a moment... ::he sets the mug in front of Adam, then disappears into the kitchen, and re-emerges with a piping hot pot of strong black tea. "Do you take milk or sugar?" <Orlann> ::looks hopeful:: Molasses? * Orlann gives the newcomer a warm smile. "Evenin', ma'am." He then turns to Adam. "We're a bit tight, I reckon. And I ain't 'xactly on no one's favorite list, right about now." <Rhys> I think we have a small pot of it somewhere... Good evening, lady. I am Rhys Altain, barkeep. Would you like anything before I head into the darkest reaches of the kitchen, on a quest of certain peril? * Adam looks curious, "I heard rumors that there had been some trouble, but never got any actual details. I hope it's nothing serious." <Missa> ::touching her translation locket:: Good evening! ::she waits for Rhys to finish whatever he's doing before smiling warmly:: Red wine, if you would be so kind, Master... Altain? <Orlann> I reckon there's been a bit of rumorin'. An' it ain't 'xactly not trouble. But ain't no purpose in talkin' at it now. It's over. <Rhys> Of course. ::he fiddles around under the bar, uncorks another bottle of Jaret's favorite, and pours Missa a goblet: If you need anything else, just let me know. And if you'll excuse me... ::he heads back into the kitchen:: <Missa> Thank you. ::she touches the back of Rhys' hand briefly before picking up the goblet and sipping:: * Adam lifts his mug to Orlann, "To your health then Lieutenant." <Missa> ::turns her bright smile on Orlann, her hand still at her throat:: Are you, then, one of the vigilant Purple Dragons, of which I hear? <Orlann> ::nods:: M'thanks, but I don't expect that Tarri'll let m'health get into danger. * Adam chuckles, "I suspect not." <Orlann> ::nods to Missa:: Y'ma'am, I am. Lieutenant Orlann Drilgar, ma'am, at yer service. Although I hope y' ain't offended if I'm hopin' ya got nothin' too pressin' right now. I have two hours break afore I'm back on shift t'night. * Rhys comes out of the kitchen carrying a small brown ceramic pot and a spoon. He sets both down in front of Orlann, along with cup and saucer. "There you go." * Orlann turns his already black tea into something resembling road-mud before pushing the small pot away and taking a long swallow. "M'thanks, Master Rhys." <Rhys> Very welcome, good Lieutenant. <Missa> Oh, no I'd not disturb you on your break for anything less than a matter of life or death! ::she laughs, a pleasantly musical sound that brightens her plain features considerably:: I'm only a visitor, trying to be friendly. <Orlann> ::toasts her with his cup of tea:: Welcome t' Marsember, then, Miss...? * Rhys squints at Orlann. "Has that nice girl of yours had a chance to get a meal in you this evening, Lieutenant?" <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: No, sir. I ain't seen Tarri since this mornin'. <Missa> ::toasts Orlann back with her wine:: Missa Misalin, Lieutenant. I'm very pleased to meet you. * Ennis enters, green eyes scanning the hall with curious interest. His straight black hair is pulled back into a long tail. He is dressed in a white shirt, brown suede leggings, a brown leather longcoat with green suede collar and trim, and brown boots coated with the dust of travel. He leans his walking stick against the door, sets down his pack, and approaches the bar. <Missa> ::glances at Rhys, then looks back at Orlann, almost amused:: You've a girl? Won't she be cross if she learns you've come here for your break instead of visiting her? <Ennis> Evenin'. This's the Meade Hall, aye? Ye know yer front door's on sideways? <Missa> ::looks around at the new voice, and gives Ennis a bright smile:: * Rhys rolls back into the kitchen, and after a few minutes, comes out with a platter of rolls, cold cuts, and holey cheese. He sets the platter technically down in the middle of the bar, but it's well within Orlann's arm's reach. "Anyone who's interested in dinner, please, have a sandwich. Or three." * Adam hides a grin behind his mug wondering how the new comer will react to the rest of the Hall's "atmosphere." * Rhys raises a hand to Ennis. "Good evening. Sideways? Well, hopefully it'll be right by the end of the night. In any case, welcome to the Meade Hall, I am Rhys Altain, the barkeep. Can I get you anything?" * Ennis flashes a smile in return at Missa before turning his attention back to Rhys. "A mug o' meade, if ye would, barkeep. After all, 'd be folly t' walk into a place called "the Meade Hall" an' ask fer a pint o' stout, aye?" * Orlann takes bread and cheese and meat and makes himself a rather impressive sandwich. "I stopped by her shop, first off. She weren't about. I reckon she's got herself a late-night patient." * Missa eyes the platter hungrily. "Oh, and I'm *starving*!" She gestures for Orlann to help himself first, then eagerly selects a roll and covers it with several slices of meat and cheese. "Master Altain, I could *kiss* you!" She grins and rolls up one piece of meat and begins to eat it delicately. <Rhys> I suppose it depends on your tastes, friend. ::he pours the man a mug of meade:: And you're quite welcome, Miss. <Missa> ::to Orlann:: A patient? Your girl is a... a healer? A priest? ::she grins:: I had neither the intellect nor the patience for that sort of work, myself. <Orlann> ::nods:: She's a healer, yes ma'am. But not a priest... ::takes another sip of tea:: An' yer come t'stay, or just visitin'? <Ennis> ::takes a stool, and leans his elbows on the bar as he sips:: Ahhh... only two things better at the end of a long journey, an' those are a welcomin' face an' a soft bed t' lie in. ::addressing Rhys again:: Folk tell me there're rooms t' let, here? * Rhys gestures at the stairs on the wall opposite the door in. "On the next floor. I think we've a mostly empty house right now, to boot. I haven't seen that half-orc in a while, but he's paid up." <Missa> ::she rolls a piece of meat and cheese together, and takes a bite of bread:: Oh, just a visit, though probably at least a few months... My hosts are keen for me to stay through the winter so I can see the snow. <Missa> ::glances at Ennis with a mischievous grin:: Or perhaps a welcoming face *in* a soft bed? * Orlann glances over at Rhys. "He ain't been a problem, has he? T'were my idea t' send him here." <Ennis> ::raises an eyebrow:: A half-orc, now? Folk said that all kinds were made welcome through these doors, e'en if that's not quite how they meant it. ::grins:: What rates? * Orlann goes to take a sip of tea, then coughs uncomfortably, his brown face turning faintly purple at Missa's comment. <Missa> ::looks around quickly, unaware of the source of Orlann's discomfort:: Lieutenant! Are you all right? You should swallow more carefully! <Ennis> ::glances again at Missa, grinning wide:: Och, that's not t'be refused either, tho' it's be a terrible waste o' companionship after a tromp like I've had this week. * Rhys sizes Ennis up. "Three copper a night. Five copper gets room and three meals daily." * Orlann recovers. "I reckon so." <Rhys> ::to Orlann:: He's been all right. His morning ablutions sometimes are... noisy, but nothing for the neighborhood to complain about. <Missa> ::laughs at Ennis' comment:: Is it, now? And what sort of... 'tromp'? ::she pronounces the word herself, instead of letting the locket do it:: ...have you had this week, Master...? <Ennis> ::raises both eyebrows:: Naught but tuppence t' board? Done. ::reaching for his beltpouch:: I b'lieve I mean t' stay some while. How much t' secure a room? <Rhys> Oh, that shouldn't be a problem. We usually don't have a crowd. Once you're here, you've got claim on your room, unless you vanish on us for years on end or something similar. * Orlann finishes off his sandwich, watching Missa curiously. <Ennis> ::grins at Rhys:: I'll be sure t'give warnin' if I mean to. ::turning to Missa, taking another swallow and rubbing his chin thoughtfully:: Let's see... caught a ride on farm cart out o' Hilp early this morn, but last week this time I was on yonder side o' th' Storm Horns. ::waves vaguely westward:: Mostly on foot, tho' folk've been kind. * Missa eats hungrily but gracefully, as if in long practice eating with her fingers. She does not build a sandwich, but takes a bit of bread every few bites, as if to clear her palate. "Storm... Horns?" She considers, then shrugs with easy defeat. "I'll have to ask Kevil. A far trip, I gather?" <Orlann> ::blinks:: Master Kevil? ::takes a swallow of tea:: Ha! <Missa> ::smiling:: You know him, then? * Ennis looks to Rhys for permission before pulling a clean plate towards himself and cutting a thick slab of cheese to eat with a roll. * Rhys nods that Ennis is welcome to the platter of sandwich material. <Orlann> Reckon I do, ma'am. He an' that red-headed fellah of his stayed at m' girl's house, back durin' the war. When their Missus was held hostage, and my Tarri, too. * Adam looks grim at the mention of the war and drains his mug, "Could I please have another Rhys?" <Missa> ::her eyes round, and she stares for a moment, and then she laughs:: You're *that* Lieutenant Drilgar! ::she laughs again, delighted by the coincidence, then sobers somewhat and lays a hand on Orlann's arm:: I should thank you, then. Kevil and Diya are two of my dearest and oldest friends. <Ennis> Aye, lass, 'twas. ::takes a bite of cheese and swallows before continuing:: Worth it, though, t' see th' Fair at Elversult. Fine city. ::looks over at Orlann, brows creased in concern:: There's been a war here? How long past? <Orlann> ::pauses a moment, then covers her hand with his:: I owe them a right handful, ma'am. T'was their company an' support what kept me sane durin' that dark time. <Rhys> Of course, Adam. ::Rhys refills Adam's mug:: <Adam> Thanks Rhys. <Missa> They say much the same of you, Lieutenant - and I understand you were instrumental in lifting the siege... ::she smiles at him:: It is good to have friends. * Orlann turns his head, blinking. "It were a bad time, all 'round. Glad t'be at peace again." * Adam lifts his mug, "Here, here." * Ennis looks relieved and drinks to the toast. <Missa> ::retrieves her hand and drinks from her own goblet, then cocks her head at Ennis:: And here, a friend we haven't met yet, d'va? I'm afraid I missed your name entirely, friend... Put it down to Master Altain's excellent fare, if you would be so kind... * Orlann leans back against the bar and watches Missa, a slight smile twitching up his mouth. <Ennis> ::grins and holds out a hand:: Och, it's clear I was near-raised in a barn, aye? It's Ennis, miss, an' a fair meetin' t' ye. <Missa> Missa Misalin, Master Ennis... The pleasure's mine - and I *was* raised in a barn... at least, whenever I could escape my mothers' chores! ::she grins as she takes Ennis' hand, slightly awkwardly, as if unused to the gesture.:: * Ennis laughs and shakes her hand with a sure but not overly firm grip. * Orlann finishes off his tea, then takes another sandwich. <Ennis> So you're a wastrel shirkabout, same as me, aye? ::winks:: Or did she haul you in by th' ears and pour a trade into ye, regardless? <Missa> ::chuckles:: No, I picked up my trade in the stables and the fields - I'm a {Herdmistress}. ::she frowns down at the locket as it fails to translate her title, then shrugs philosophically and tries again:: I breed and train horses. <Ennis> Ah! ::gestures broadly:: Hear it, one an' all, here's th' proof of it! I've found me long-lost sister! ::grins at Missa and settles on his stool again:: Again, same as ye. I'm a horseleech by trade. But ye said ye were only a visitor, like me? * Rhys grins at Ennis's display. * Orlann grins wider. "Kindred spirits, I reckon." * Adam hides another smiles behind his mug. * Missa gives Orlann a wink. "I've never yet been in a bar and not found at least one variety of long-lost kin." <Ennis> ::grins back at Orlann:: Aye, Master-- nay, 'twas Lieutenant they called ye, aye? I think ye've the right of it. An' me barely two hours inside the city gates! 'Twas lucky of me to come here, I'm reckonin'. <Ennis> ::peers closely at Missa:: Nay, lass, ye've not the look of the Moonshaes about ye. Could there be two places in th' world with towns so small that ye be needin' to marry 'cross the county t' avoid kissin' cousins? <Orlann> ::nods:: At yer service, Master Ennis. Welcome t'Marsember. ::glances at Rhys:: Seems I been sayin' that quite a bit, recent-like. <Missa> ::thoughtfully - almost to herself, except that she's keeping her hand on the translation locket:: Though usually, they want me to buy a round... I do believe my little donation to your goddess of luck earlier has paid off - look at me now, surrounded by such charming companions! <Missa> ::to Ennis, with half a laugh:: In truth? The city I'm from is nearly the size of this one. <Rhys> ::nodding to Orlann:: Usually it's spring that all the new arrivals come to town. Odd year. <Ennis> Ha! ::winks and has a good, judicious look around the building:: Take out th' stables, an' where I'm from could damn near fit through th' door! <Missa> ::chuckles:: I've seen outposts about so big. * Orlann finishes off his sandwich, then digs around in his pocket and pulls out two silver coins. "Will this be coverin' me? I reckon I best get on m' way. M' new Captain ain't s'friendly as t'give me a second shift anywhere in th' same neighborhood as here." <Ennis> ::shrugs easily, looking at Rhys:: Spring, I found m'self unavoidably detained. Foalin' time up on th' Ride. * Rhys nudges one of the coins back at Orlann. "Purple Dragon overtime discount. Safe night to you, Lieutenant." <Missa> I was very pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. ::she touches his arm again, giving him a direct look and a smile:: I hope to meet you again. <Orlann> ::nods, pocketing the extra coin:: M' thanks. <Ennis> Lieutenant, a quick word afore ye go? * Orlann turns to Missa and gives her a deep bow. "Ma'am, it's m'honor t' be at yer service." <Orlann> ::raises an eyebrow:: Master Ennis? <Ennis> Does th' city use a mounted guard at all? As I said, I'm a horseleech by trade, an' soon enough I'll be lookin' for summat to do. <Orlann> ::nods:: Yeah, they got some cavalry units. I ain't a part of 'em, obvious. Ain't too many horses 'round these parts what can carry sommun like me. <Ennis> ::grins:: Aye. M'thanks, Lieutenant. * Orlann bows himself out of the Meadehall, breaking into a trot as he heads down the road. * Rhys picks up Orlann's silver and deposits it in the strongbox. * Ennis cuts himself another, smaller wedge of cheese and has another few swallows of meade. <Rhys> Last call, everyone. <Missa> ::noticing Rhys putting Orlann's silver away:: Oh! I nearly... ::she digs into a hidden pocket and comes up with a handful of silver and copper:: I didn't pay last week. I'm used to paying when I get the drink, not at the end, and I completely forgot... ::she casts Adam a quick, apologetic grin:: I hope I didn't get you in trouble? * Adam grins, "First one's free." * Rhys waves his hands at Missa. "No, no, no, it's quite all right. First time you visit the Meade Hall, the house picks up the tab for you." He nods at Ennis. "That goes for you, too." * Adam drains his mug and drops some coins on the bar, "Thanks Rhys." * Adam turns to Missa, "Would you like an escort home miss?" <Missa> ::blinks in surprise, then laughs:: Well, that's an interesting policy... How much for the wine tonight, then? My currency's local. <Rhys> Most welcome, Adam. Pleasant evening to you. <Ennis> ::takes another look around the bar, and looks at Rhys again, lifting his eyebrows in surprise:: M' thanks, 'keep. I confess, I'd another reason t'be darkenin' yer door tonight, sir. I heard tell a lady I'm lookin' for, a Mistress Nightstorm, frequents yer fine establishment. Have ye seen her of late? I've a spot of business I'd hoped she might help me with. * Rhys grins toothily. "The provider of the vintage would be heartbroken if I charged a lady for it, so I think you'll have to wait until another day to part with your coins." * Rhys eyes Ennis. "The Headmistress has been known to stop in from time to time, but she hasn't been in for a while. I can let her know someone's looking for her, if you wish." <Ennis> ::raising his eyebrows again:: Headmistress, is it? She's a school in town, then? <Missa> The provider of... ::she looks down into her goblet, then chuckles:: Fair enough. I thank you, Master Altain, for your service. ::she leaves a few copper coins on the bar:: For the bread and meat. ::she turns, then, to Adam, and bows:: Escort would be most welcome, sir. * Adam smiles and stands, holding the door open for Missa, "After you then." <Rhys> Yes, she maintains an academy in Marsember. I'll send her a memorandum tomorrow letting her know you'd like an appointment. <Ennis> Ah! ::mutters to himself a little:: My mistake, I'd thought 'er a sage or summat. Aye, I'd take that kindly o' ye, my thanks again. ::lifts his mug to the departing patrons, and then drains it:: A mug, a welcomin' face... ::smothers a yawn behind his hand as he puts down the empty mug:: An' now I'll be needin' that soft bed, I believe. * Rhys looks around under the bar, and returns with a weighty brass key with a paper tag tied to the end. "Room 3 should do you just fine. Good evening, sir." * Ennis roots about in his belt pouch and produces four silver pieces, leaving them on the bar. "For th' meal, an' for th' week, with my thanks, sir." He accepts the key, checks the tag, and collects his belongings from beside the door before heading upstairs with a jaunty wave. * Rhys takes all the coins off the bar and sweeps them into the strongbox. He locks the front door and heads back into the kitchen to clean up the night's glassware. |
|
|