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Post by Sorrows on Apr 25, 2007 15:08:04 GMT -8
The tall man sitting at the table grew silent again when the man entered just behind the female captain. He grimaced at the man, unconciously fingering the shaft of a short spear the leaned against the leg of his chair. It was one of three there, all laying against the cold steel of a small buckler. He muttered under his breath, something about 'those who hide their faces when entering' and 'being prepared to test their spears'. It was all a low growl and his gray eyes never left the man's face as he moved across the room.
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 25, 2007 16:21:56 GMT -8
The older one peered to the man at the table, and raised an eyebrow at the muttering. He then returned his gaze to the barman calmly, yet unsmilingly. It wasn't any of his business until things started to fly. He didn't like to make a scene, he preferred a low profile. "How old is this business..?"
The younger of the two played with his long red hair, giving an agitated glance to the tall man at the table, then to the newcomer, before sighing.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 25, 2007 16:32:30 GMT -8
Elijah looked up at the newcomer, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You have come to the right place, sir. Is there anything I can give you before you go off to a room?"
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Post by Raiku on Apr 25, 2007 18:22:11 GMT -8
"A drink would be appreciated." Leon said as he tossed a small black sack of coins to the bartender.
He leaned against the closest table, letting his head tilt back. The architecture of cielings was always mildy interesting. A web of intricate planks and poles...After gazing for a moment, he forced his eyesight down. That man at the table, his hand upon the polearm, appeared to be the major threat in the room. But it was no matter, nothing would come of it if he would just lay low.
"Preferably somethin' illegal, I want to be knocked out good tonight." He said, turning his head to an angle where his eyes could be seen.
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 25, 2007 20:35:43 GMT -8
The tall man sniffed audibly, apparantly dismissing the man with a shake of his head and an audibly grumble or 'Wetlanders'. He could never get used to the 'customs' of these places, or, as he saw it, lack of ji'e'toh, which translated roughly to 'Honor and Obligation'.
It was the values that his people lived their lives on. One of the teachings was that you never crossed spears with a man who was unarmed, and you only hid your face when you were prepared to fight, kill and be killed. Yet, there was no honor in killing someone, even a child could do that, but to touch a vieled opponent with a bare hand without harming him was the greatest honor to a warrior, and greatest dishonor to the other. So great was this dishonor that the other warrior lay down his spears for a year and a day to serve as a gai'shan to the man whom had captured him-- A servant, in wetlander tongue, but nothing so vile. It was not servitude, it was 'Honor and Obligation'.
By his customs, the tall man could walk over to the man with the mask, simply lay a hand on his shoulder, and expect a full year and a day to be paid by the man as his gai'shan. He would never get used to wetlanders... But he would have to try. He settled for his open disapproval of the man, and set back to disapproving of his drink. Despite having recieved the establishment's 'strongest drink', it seemed like honey on his tongue compared to what he was used to.
He'd never get used to this place...
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 26, 2007 9:15:17 GMT -8
Elijah nodded and took the coins. "I've seen that look before; I know what you're feeling in that sense. I'll make you a special; it's something I used to brew myself when I saw that kind of look in a mirror."
Naburine scoffed at the man's loud entrance, and then turned to Elijah, who was busy making his concoction. "You have anything mild back there? I'm not in the mood for strong drinks."
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Post by Raiku on Apr 26, 2007 14:01:15 GMT -8
"Heh, consider it accepted." Leon accepted, letting his shoulders slump a little. Hearing a voice of someone whom knew his tastes added a feint sense of comfort and equality. He argued with that thought saying to himself, It's only a drink.
"I suppose an introduction be in order." Leon pulled down his mask, letting it rest around his neck and placing his hat upon the bar. His face was gruff, a small goatee "The name be Leon."
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 27, 2007 14:01:30 GMT -8
Elijah made a small salute with his index and middle finger to Leon. "Welcome, Leon. My name's Elijah. Pleased to meetcha'." It was probably the closest thing he could get to rhyming today... he was usually better, but he just was not up to it today. He finished the drink and made his way out to the man's table, placing the flaggon in front of him. "Here you be."
The brown-haired lady stepped forward and said teasingly, "Look out, mate. Elijah's known for his strong drinks all over the county... I think there was actually a case where a man's throat did ignight." She turned back to her female comanion. "You can go ahead and go back home if you want... I feel somewhat better." The other woman nodded and left without a word. Naburine found a table and kicked her feet up onto the table. "Okay, Elijah, it's my turn to get a drink."
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 28, 2007 9:16:57 GMT -8
][ I'm gonna switch out characters. Rhuarc won't do well in a tavern setting with so few. Mat should be more fun. The character is my Avatar, with a few mods. ^^][
The soft trod of shoe-clad hooves announced a new arrival outside. Swinging down off his gelding, the newcomer scoffed at the absence of a stableboy to take his horse. "Well, I guess it is a tavern, and not an inn.." he muttered with a grimace. He set about tying his horse up to a post out front for the moment, using he reins as rope, then moved inside with a pace that was worn from a distance traveled. He stepped aside with a smile and a small tip of his hat to the lady who left the tavern, sighing as she did. One leaving means one less inside.
Pushing through the door, he regained his composure, however tired, and paused to glance around as he let the wood swing back into it's frame. Matrim Cauthon was a man of simple tastes, and simple appearances. Nearly standing high enough to be called tall, but not quite, he wore baggy brown breeches and a white shirt, unlaced about the neck, and a green overcoat that hung open over it still. The only odd thing about him were a black scarf tied about his neck, a slightly offsetting black brimmed hat that hung low about his head. Those, and perhaps the polearm he carried, which stood as tall as he, with a haft slightly over half the length with a curved blade taking the other half with black ravens ingraved into the shining metal. An inscription woven in gold wound down the haft of the odd spear in a language long since dead to most men. That, he left propped against the door to one side. Most would find the weapon incredibly offbalance and odd to wield. The metal was attuned to him, the weapon type long since lost to the ages, as well as how to wield it well. Yet, he carried it as it was an extension of him. No one would be able to touch the thing without him knowing.
Despite those, his face was easy enough. A soft young face, speaking of only few years since his 18th naming day. A grin that he always wore, both on his lips and his dark eyes, always suggested that he was up to some sort of mischief, or found a joke in things no one else saw. He came in just as the lady had addressed what he assumed to be the barkeep about her turn to recieve a drink. His grin held well, if not more as he stepped lightly into the tavern.
"Another of the same," Mat called to the tender, rounding on the table that Naburine lounged at. He placed a fat Andoran gold mark on the table, easily heavy enough to pay for the few silvers for each drink, and a generous more. "If the seat is worth the drink," Mat continued, this time to the woman at the table, twisting the statement into a question with a friendly smile and soft eyes.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 28, 2007 11:28:00 GMT -8
Naburine's caramel eyes twinkled at the man after a bit of startlement. "You can bet every other piece of money on your person that the seat is worth it. Thank you very much, sir." She put her leather-clad feet on the floor and made a mock salute, but did not bother to say her name. If he was interested, he'd ask. "You sure you want what I do? It's not gonna be strong, and you look like a man who might want something more in his belly than that."
Elijah finished making Naburine's mild elixer of different alcohols (mostly a meadlike brew) and took it over to her. He picked up the man's money and waited for him to answer Nabruine's question so that he'd know what to do.
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 28, 2007 13:09:09 GMT -8
Mat laughed softly, swinging into a seat only a quarter of the table from hers, instead of across the way. His voice was light and warming. "I know well enough not to willingly put myself at a disadvantage with a woman who puts her feet up on tables at a tavern, rather than a cloth to clean them." He shook his head a moment then added, "Or any woman, for that matter. The name's Mat." He made as much of a flourished bow as he could manage sitting down, swinging his hat off with one hand as he did. He smiled up at the barkeep as he came over. Not the grin he held for the one at the table, but warm still. "I'll have the same, if it tastes right enough." He then turned to the woman across from him, adding to his sentence, "And a name to go with such beautiful eyes, if I could be so blessed."
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Post by Raiku on Apr 28, 2007 22:37:59 GMT -8
Leon did not even take a breath during his indulgence of the firey alchohol. It slid down his throat, leaving a burning trail cascading down into his stomach. He could believe that a man's throat would ignite, but certainly not him. He had had a tonic or two from around the world that could cause throat-'implosions'. In fact, he couldn't hide the smile of remembering the time that he witnessed it.
He strode aside, letting the new guy go through. What he meant to say was, "Greetin's traveler!" But what came out was a bizzare mixture of sylabbles and punctuation that not even a lore-master could consider vernacular.
Step by step, he made the assumption that his room was up the stairs. Leon made it about three steps up, when the tonic made it's move. He fainted...with a very odd smile on his face.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 29, 2007 15:37:30 GMT -8
Leon made his performance just as Elijah gave the newcomer his drink to match the leather-clad woman's. He chuckled to himself. Naburine sighed and shook her head. "I told him so..." She then looked at her table-parter. "Well, you are quite the smooth one, aren't you? The name is Captain Naburine Cutlass, but you can just call me Naburine. No formalities with me unless you're on my ship... or in big trouble." She played with her drink, not about to lift her mask up until she was alone.
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 29, 2007 18:04:55 GMT -8
"I'm not one for formalities, myself," Mat chimed in, giving his own rueful laugh and shake of his head at the man's loss of consciousness. He rose the newly brought drink to his lips and paused, his eyes holding the grin that the mug barely covered. "Though, it is nice to sometimes find yourself using them in a more.. enjoyable situation." His voice was casual, if not off-hand. He shrugged his shoulders and took a drink, never making any implication that the drink was not to his liking. He'd have tea leaves if it meant being able to sit with a set of pretty eyes. And this woman certainly could trade stare for stare with the best of men.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 30, 2007 14:07:56 GMT -8
An eyebrow shot up on Naburine's flawless face. "Well, you're also the very forward type, aren't you?"
Elijah walked over to the unconcious man and strived to pick him up. He was so heavy with his muscular dead-weight that he could not do it alone. He looked over to the larger man standing at the counter. "Oi there... do ya think you could help me with this poor guy?"
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