[Rearing Stallion] A Quiet Drink (Open)

[Thom Stornwell]

47th Day of Summer, 512 AV - Evening Thom walked into The Rearing Stallion, looking around slowly as he stood just inside the doorway, taking in the smells of ale and smoke that lingered in the air. Men at tables laughed loudly as they spoke or played at cards or other such gambling games. He would like to try that, perhaps, but not right now. He made his way slowly to a table in the corner and sat on one of the benches with his back to the wall, where he could observe the crowds. A pretty serving girl came and asked him if he required anything. Looking up, he smiled, but his heart was never really there, at the same time reaching into his coinpurse and fishing out a Gold Miza, flipping it to the girl, "bring me ale until that runs out, there's more if need be." He stared at her a moment longer and flipped her another Silver Miza. "That's for your eyes." The girl hurried away with a giggle and a curtsy, returning quickly with a mug of ale, which he sipped at occasionally. He sat back with a sigh, deep in thought. With the travelling and rush to get things sorted here in the city, he had had little time to worry or think too much, focusing only on the here and now. But now that things were quieter he had time to reflect and think back to his home, which he missed already. Thom barely managed to keep from welling up when thinking of his father, who had died in the recent djed storms, or of his youngest sister, Marta, also laid to rest before her time. He couldn't help but feel like he had abandoned his mother, but it was what he must do. One day he would return. One day. Still lost in thought he finished the last of his ale and waved for another, which was brought to him quickly, but this time by a different serving girl. He sat with eyes in his ale, thinking.

[Roald]

Roald busied himself behind the bar, occasionally pausing to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead. It was a warm enough evening outside, inside the bustling tavern it was hot and stuffy. He filled tankards with ale and beer according to the orders that came rushing in. He silently thanked the Gods for Brucila and Carmen. Without them ferrying drinks out and bringing empty mugs back he wouldn't have had a chance keeping up with the demand that evening. Whenever there was a break in orders, Roald would make light conversation with the patrons that sat near the bar, cleaning up used mugs with a rag as he did so. The majority of the patrons were lively enough, playing games and laughing amongst themselves. Nothing out of the ordinary for such a popular tavern. Then Carmen returned from the tables with a gold miza in her palm. Roald arched his eyebrow at the girl as she stored the precious coin in the tavern's strongbox and relayed the orders she'd collected to Roald. “Someone's eager to get stinkin' drunk.” He muttered idly to himself as he poured a foaming mug of ale and placed it down on the counter to be collected by one of the barmaids. Curious as to who was throwing so much money around tonight, Roald watched as Carmen picked up the mug and carried it over to a broody-looking fellow with his back to the wall. He sniffed and inwardly shrugged, figuring the big spender was trying to forget something. Resuming his work, Roald put the broody patron out of his mind until he called out for another drink scant minutes later. He poured the man a new drink and passed it to Brucila, who carried it over to the customer. Roald decided to keep count on the drinks that man had, both to make sure he hadn't underpaid and to watch out for a potentially troublesome customer. Too much ale had a tendency for turning even the most sensible man into a violent thug. By Roald's count he had eight more mugs of ale to work through before that gold miza ran out.

[Thom Stornwell]

Thom barely touched his second drink for a while, still lost deep in his own thoughts, but he did sip it from time to time. Looking around he noticed the man behind the bar glancing his way and inclined his head, only slightly, in acknowledgement. Dropping his eyes back to his cup, he absent mindedly began stirring in the froth with a grubby finger as he thought. He wondered if he ever would see his home again, or if it was just wishful thinking. Picturing the smiles and good times he had shared with Mari - his sister of just fourteen - brought a tear to his eye which he hastily scrubbed away with the back of his other hand, peering around to see if anyone had noticed. Looking down he noticed for the first time what he was doing and scowled at his own absent mindedness. Discarding the drink before it was halfway drunk, he called for another, asking for the one he had been playing with to be taken away. Sighing, Thom leaned back again and barely noticed as the serving girl came back to the table with his third drink. He kept one eye on the door, watching as people came and went. In a way he would be glad of a little company, or someone who might lighten his mood at least. Despite being in such a big city, Thom sure felt lonely.

[Evora]

Evora sat in the corner of the tavern watching the people drink and play cards and throw die. She was not proud of it but Evora hadn't sold much game as of late, or killed any at all and a girl had to eat and pockets in taverns jingled with coins. It was easy pickings except if you were caught once there'd be little opportunity in the future.

Evora surveyed the crowd and one man stood out to her. A young man paying with gold and tipping in silver. A young man with too much money. And young men with money in a tavern often got drunk and did not miss a coin taken by a young women.

Walking with the confidence that only an Inartan possesed, Evora strode over to his table.
"Can I buy you a drink?" she asked him with her most winning smile. "Trying to forget something?"

[Roald]

A good barkeep should keep a close eye on any patrons in the establishment that might cause some kind of trouble. Roald liked to think he was a good barkeep, and so he continually looked up from his work to watch the big spender in the corner. He split his attention between surveillance and keeping the other patrons happy with refills and a lent ear. While Roald was pouring more ale from the barrels lining the wall behind the bar, he observed the short Inarta woman making her way across the room to sit with Broodyman. He arched an eyebrow in bemusement at the sight, wondering if they already knew each other. Heck, for all Roald knew gingers might have a thing for the quiet mysterious type. Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Roald finished drying the used cups that had stacked up and took the next batch of orders from Carmen and Brucila. As he opened the taps to fill another handful of tankards, Roald resolved to do the man a favour and pour him a pitcher for two next time he asked for a drink. Might even brighten the fellow's mood, though probably not as much as the attention of a pretty little redhead might. Lucky git.

[Thom Stornwell]

Thom looked up suddenly as he realised he had been joined by a pretty young woman, and Inarta unless he missed his guess entirely. Dragging himself away from thoughts of home, he managed a quick smile, his grey eyes glinting from the light cast by the small lantern that stood on his table. He waved for one of the serving girls and asked for more ale, addressing the newcomer in a friendly tone as the other girl went to see to his order. "No need for that, I have already paid for more than I might handle by myself, you are welcome to have some." He looked the girl up and down and gave an approving nod, although quick in the hope she wouldn't notice. "The names Thom. Thom Stornwell. I was just thinking of my home, but I mustn't dwell. It's good to finally have some company, I've found a lot of the locals to be quite dismissive of strangers." He sat back as before, staring into the girls eyes, then spoke again, "what might I call you?" Almost as an afterthought he added, "perhaps one such as yourself would prefer wine instead?"

[Evora]

Thom had struck a soft spot speaking of home. Evora thought of her own home in Wind Reach, feeling the familiar longing for the family that no longer exsisted. Pushing the feelings aside Evora took a seat at Thom's table. He offered her wine and she had to restrain herself from laughing. She had never drank wine in Wind Reach and had certainly never wasted the money here in the city on the stuff. Besides she generally drank with men and men drank ale.
"No what you're drinking will be fine," she thanked the young man. She acepted a drink from a serving girl who shot her a filthy look. Evora thanked her anyway with a plastered on smile.
"Call me Milla," Evora said using the first name that camd to mind. "Are you far from home, Thom?" she asked shifting her chair around the table closer to the youth, and closer to his pocket.

[Roald]

Roald nodded at Carmen as she returned with yet another order for the pair in the corner and pulled across a large pewter pitcher. He held the pitcher under the ale tap and filled it up, passing it over to one of the girls to be delivered to the table. He then picked up a spare ale mug and carried it over, since the the redhead would need a mug to drink from. As he reached the table, he cast a sly wink at Thom before placing the second empty mug in front of Evora. "Yer coin'll go father this way, boyo. That an' I thought ye'd enjoy the chance ta share with yer lady friend." Roald explained, jesting light-heartedly. He was standing opposite the two, with his back to the rest of the tavern. Every few moments he would glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody tried to filch a pint from behind the bar while his back was turned. He had no intention of returning to the bar just yet though, he was attempting to build a rapport with these two customers and both the serving girls could handle pouring a few pints while he talked. "You two just met or d'ya know each other?" He asked, clearly having no concern with interrupting anything. He continued to grin toothily in the hopes that the two patrons will find his joviality contagious. Of course, he didn't imagine he'd have much success with the young Mister Misery.