Open [The Rearing Stallion] A Cold One, Please!

[Sybel]

13th Day, Fall 512 AV

She’d ridden for several hours from the Cobalt Mountains to the main city in order to find a new enterprise. She admired the Stormhold Castle as it came into view, it’s soaring towers outlined against the rapidly darkening sky. The term “castle” in her opinion was a clever omission on the part of the Syrilan Knights. It was more of a fortress than a courtly destination with its ramparts bearing coldly down upon the landscape around it. Language was such a flexible thing that it made little difference, yet she couldn’t help but admire their subtlety. Once inside the city proper she’d taken her steaming mount directly to the stables for a well-deserved rest. And on the topic of rest, the next logical step was to hunt up a tavern. A cold draft would make her feel less weather-beaten, which was always welcome provided she had the coin. As she moved toward the entrance Sybel inhaled the scent of wood smoke with pleasure. Fall was a glorious season in the more populated areas and she was glad to be in the midst of civilization. Above the door the sign hung as it always did, sitting mildly in the tepid air. Knowing that her long night of drinking was at hand, she grinned. The place was populated but not too lively, which suited her fine. The conspicuous lack of brawling was her only protest of the Stallion, but the off-duty Knights with their nasty streak of morality prevented that. For her, brawling was a welcome entertainment… Excepting the times she was involved. It was hard to keep a full collection of teeth when you kept getting knocked off your barstool. There was a seat next to the fire open mercifully enough and she took it up in a hurry. It wouldn’t help her be very inconspicuous, but it was better than some of the darker corners of the room and she’d take what she could get. Still, she kept her hood up and her wits about her. Politely she gestured, waving her index finger in the air as to attract the notice of a server.

[Orion Michaels]

oocThanks for your patience! Sorry it took so long!

Orion Work had been slow, to say the least. Very few people had come in, and honestly, none with anything so serious they needed his services. Aides and magical healers could do more than enough. So the blue eyed physician had left work a little early to make his way to the Rearing Stallion, his normal hangout. Orion sat in his usual spot at the bar, slowly nursing a mug of ale. It had been a frustrating time for the young doctor, and all he wished to do tonight was disappear in a buzzed stupor. The activity in the tavern wasn't as busy as it had been, so it appeared he would have every opportunity to fulfill his desires for the day. So there he sat, continuing to drink as he watched people enter and people leave. None too interesting, it seemed. Plain people, for a plain tavern, in the most boring city in all of Mizahar. An itch to get up and just leave the city had been dying to be scratched, but he didn't really have anywhere he wanted to go, so the same routine would be followed day after day. As a hooded figure entered the tavern, he wondered if he lucked had changed. With a slow, free flowing walk, and a tall lean figure, he knew there was something to this. Or at least, the doctor thought he knew. Orion would wait, watching the hooded person make their way over to the fire. He didn't think it was so cold that it required a hood indoors, so they must have wanted to keep to themselves. All that did was serve to pique Orion's curiosity. So he would wait, and wait, and wait until her gaze came across his, where he would flash her a grin before looking away, playing the shy fool. What could a little fun hurt?

[Sybel]

“One please… An dark brew, something stout,” she murmured as the server drew close, smiling tentatively up at the woman before allowing her eyes to return to the dancing embers of the fireplace. “Excuse me, Miss.” The lady shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable. “From one woman to another, there’s a gentleman on the far side of the room staring at ya’.” Sybel’s eyes narrowed. “Who is it, if I may ask?” Her voice was scarcely a whisper. “His name is Michaels,” the barmaid replied softly, “and he’s a regular here. He ain’t never hurt no one if that’s your worry.” She let out a gust of air. Honestly, she hadn’t even been aware that she’d been holding her breath. The journey from Yahebah north had been a bit tense due to the fact she was unarmed, so suspicion was automatic. Too many times she had to make swift exits – especially from alehouses. Slowly she turned to look to face the mysterious stranger. Was that a smile? She couldn’t be sure. He seemed harmless enough. She laughed at herself for being so paranoid. It was Syliras and the Knights upheld justice here. Murders and abductions upset their sense of neatness. “An cold one for him too then, if you please.” She handed the woman five more silver miza. “Miss?” Sybel reached out and closed the woman’s questioning, upturned palm. “Keep the change.” The strategy would be courtesy then, to either lure him in or put him off. She’d know what kind of man he was before the night’s end. With a deep sigh, she eased back into her chair and resumed watching the fire.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion Imagine the look on the man's face when the tables were oh so swiftly turned on him. Orion couldn't say he was used to having drinks bought for him, so as the barmaid brought him a drink, saying it was from the woman he'd been eyeing, he couldn't resist a loud chuckle. Taking the mug, he raised it in acknowledgement to the woman's gesture, and took a sip, but he didn't move from his seat. Oh no, Orion wouldn't chase after a simple offer of a drink. There was more entertainment to be had in other ways. He really wasn't sure what he wanted, and if someone asked him, he probably wouldn't be able to tell them. He'd been left reeling somewhat by a poor exchange with someone, and really just was out to enjoy himself. He'd found the Stallion left him with limited options. Drinking, which he was already do. Dancing, which he was incapable of doing. Flirting, which he did shamelessly, regardless of whether he meant to or not. The fact that she'd purchase the drink for him suggested to Orion that she wasn't from the area, otherwise he's budding reputation at this tavern would have reached her ears. At least, he thought as much. The doctor was one to overstate his clout. "Find out something interesting about her for me," he whispered to the barmaid. "It'll be good for your tip tonight," he added, sending her off. While he wouldn't bother her directly, there were no rules about enlisting a little aid. With that, Orion turned his attention back to the door, nursing his fresh drink, a generally uninterested expression adorning his face. Just the one tonight, huh?

[Sybel]

In her peripheral vision she saw the dark haired man raise his mug in salute. It was a sweet gesture and she smiled internally, never taking her eyes off the crackling hearth. If it was a game he intended to play, he’d picked the wrong opponent. She almost felt a stab of pity for the young man. Sybel knew her own worth. She was not a damsel to be preyed upon or rescued. However, she was by no means a prude. If he was going to play, he would soon find himself outmatched. “Miss…” The barmaid leaned in as she passed in attempted subterfuge. “Where do you hail from, if ya don’t mind me askin?’ You have a foreign look about ya.” The fire danced in the reflection of Sybel’s light eyes. This man’s indirectness grated her slightly. Did he think the curiously timed question would go unnoticed? If he was going for subtlety then Mr. Michaels was missing his mark. “Yahebah.” Honesty was the best policy. “I hail from the desert, though my business is my own. Tell my would-be suitor to save his polite solicitation for a more direct approach.” The woman gave her a startled glance and stalked off toward the bar. Perhaps she thought it was her own fault for giving it away. She’d wait. The minutes ticked by as she sipped her crisp lager and not once did she remove her hood or look over to meet his gaze. Negotiating a price had an aspect of timing to it - if you were doing it correctly. You would reveal the item’s true value when your opponent was most vulnerable. The waiting game made her thoughtful. Being alone was a topic Sybel had been trying to avoid. She wasn’t exactly ‘lonely’ so much as she was empty – like there was a void in her chest, some vague hollow feeling that was slightly uncomfortable. There were too many nights of silence under the cheerless sky. She hated the burning in her throat that craved conversation. The whole affair made her feel weak, and that bred contempt for the man who so cheaply tried to pick her up. Her sense of fairness returned to her, and deeply she sighed. After taking a long draft from her mug, she felt somewhat better. It wasn’t the mysterious stranger’s fault. Sybel was just a nomad with no tribe. It was unnatural, so her feelings on the subject were to be expected. After what seemed an eternity, the server returned from the back room and traveled slowly over to her other customers, stopping finally to lean in to the man across the room. Sybel waited, bided her time until his expression subtly changed, catching the exact moment her message had been imparted. Deliberated she pushed the hood from her face, the firelight catching her smooth golden skin and the tongues of flame sparkling in her sensuous gaze. But she wouldn’t look over – there was no need. It had the effect she’d been going for. They’d see who would put an end to their little game of round robin.

[Viper]

His lengthening time out on the road have begun to take a toll. Thus the imposing structure of Stormhold Castles outer defensive walls came as a welcome relief. He wished he had been able to arrive sooner however, to be able to properly take in the greatness of this large city. With the sun having set shortly before, only a faint outline of the place could be made out.

Shaking off a slight shiver that had just run through him, he pressed on through the gates, making sure to give a respectful nod to the knights guarding the gate. Fall had definitely arrived. Though pleasant enough during the day, the evening temperatures were already showing a signs that summer was waining, and the coldness of fall and soon winter would once again take hold over the land.

Making his way through the streets of the great city, his eyes caught sight of a tavern. A smile crept onto his face before he looked back down at his horse. "Don't worry boy. First things first. Let's go find you a place to eat and rest." Turning away, he soon found a suitable stable to keep his strider. After ensuring he was properly, fed and secured, he headed back out to the tavern he saw earlier.

As he drew closer, the pleasant smells of a warm fire and good food beckoned him onward. Opening the door, he scans the room for a moment before shutting the door behind him. He walked to the bar as he pulled down the mask covering the lower half of his face and quietly orders a mug of ale. Paying for his drink, he turned and walked toward the fireplace just in time to see a young woman removing the hood covering her fine features. He caught himself staring for just a moment before turning his gaze back toward the fire and soon finding himself a chair nearby. Letting out a small sigh, he settled into his chair and then took a gulp of his ale.

It wasn't long before his eyes began to drift around the room, to get a better look and who all was present...

[Maeva]

The Rearing Stallion was where she spent the majority of her evenings, if anywhere. Maeva found that the population of the tavern changed almost daily - save for the few regulars like herself - and this variety caused a welcome diversity in her day, which was otherwise frustratingly so-so. The familiar smells of stale beer and warm food welcomed her as she slipped through the front door. Pausing momentarily to run a hand through her dark hair, she appreciated the heat blasting from the flickering hearth. Then she made her way towards the bar, noting the odd one or two familiar faces dotted around the room. One in particular - a young man who also was perched at the bar - caught her attention. Where do I know you from? For a brief moment, she racked her memory to try and recall whether he had warmed her bed recently, or had earned a punch in the face in the last couple of days. Seeing as both were negative, she decided that he too, must be a regular at the tavern. Just one I haven't bedded or beaten yet. She purchased a beer from the bar and took a sip - after flashing a grin to the barman on the other side, who blushed and tripped over his feet in distraction. Then she turned around, rested her elbows on the bar and watched the people that surrounded her. The fire warmed her otherwise pale complexion, and the flames created flickering patterns on her face and exposed collarbone and shoulders. She took another sip of the beer and wiped the red stain of lipstick that was left on the glass. A quiet one she summarised eventually.

[Viper]

Another person soon came waltzing into the tavern. Apparently this place was fairly popular as it was slowly but surely filling up. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw the woman run a hand through her hair. She was a fine looking woman too...and she knew it, he thought quietly to himself. He was beginning to be amazed at the quality in appearance of the woman in this land. Perhaps the easier city living helped with this. But the woman sitting not to far from him seemed to have more the appearance of the desert dwellers to the south not far from his homeland.

Giving a light shrug off to his own thoughts, he pondered. Or maybe it's just a good night. If the newest arrival were to look over, he would raise his mug ever so slightly as a polite hello, but then go back to watching the crowd as a whole, and the fireplace.

As he began to just stare blankly, he started thinking about what he would do next. Perhaps he should take a look at the Employment Office the knight at the main gate pointed out on his arrival... Or perhaps he would just explore the city a bit. Bah who knows. He'd figure it out the next day. Tonight, his only plan was to drink and relax...course plans rarely went the way they should, he finally finished thinking.

[Sybel]

In the midst of her little showdown with the man across the room, more individuals emerged from the cold outdoors, letting small gusts of the brisk autumn night in behind them. Most notably was a masked man who had taken a seat near hers. He’d stared for a moment after she’d lowered her hood. That was to be expected. She certainly wasn’t a local and for the sake of her opponent, she’d made a meal out of it. The previous goal of keeping a low profile sort of went out the window at that point. There wasn’t a lot for her to do at that point but wait for a reaction. Sighing, she sank back into her linen armchair, her mug resting on one thigh. The fire was always an appealing place to rest her gaze and it hadn’t really strayed from there since she arrived. Not seeing any reason to break from character, she continued to lose her stare amongst the flickering tinder. As she supped, the ale sent a warming into her belly that crept out and through her muscles. The tension from her minute encounter slipped away on the gust of her deep sigh. The tavern began to bustle a bit more as artisans wrapped up their trades for the night, however the real drinkers always came late. Apprentices could handle their ale, but it was nothing like the merchants and ironworkers who came after they closed shop. They’d drink and boast and fall off their stools until the place closed. It provided the unique entertainment that only alcohol could promise to bring. A woman seated at the bar caught her attention – an ivory skinned, raven-haired beauty. She had “man-eater” written on her in every language Sybel knew. The woman wiped the lipstick from the rim of her glass with two fingers - a very provocative gesture. Idly she wondered if the newcomer would be a more likely prospect for the man who she’d been jousting with. She was very beautiful and far less sarcastic, Sybel imagined. She let out a low chuckle and with that thought, drew deeply from her cup. Since she sought very little in the realm of socializing that evening, she settled to play her usual game of “guess what happens next.” The gentleman sitting nearby had also taken notice of the lovely siren. It wouldn’t surprise her if the two alpha males would find themselves in a squabble over the prize. It wasn’t as if Sybel didn’t know herself to be attractive. To the contrary, she knew that men found her to be beautiful. That gave her a practical advantage over men in the arena of mercantilism. Really, she’d never really bonded with any one. Males on the whole were more inclined to give chase to the lower hanging fruit and Sybel's hung among the top branches. Once she’d been outright told that she wasn’t worth the effort. She’d laughed herself silly over that one. In hindsight, the guy’s reaction had been pretty priceless. Her eccentricities were repellant to the opposite gender, she supposed. That thought did sort of deflate her mood. To stave off that line of thinking, she drained the remainder of her beer.

[Viper]

The fire continued to crackle as the evening pressed on. With it and the alcohol doing there jobs, he loosened the clasp holding his cloack firmly around his neck. Allowing it to fall over the back of his chair, he began one of his favorite past times of people watching. It was always amusing to see what people would do when liquored up.

The sound of a low chuckle pulled his attention away from his thoughts as his eyes shifted from the fire back to the woman sitting close by. I wonder what that was about, he pondered briefly as she took a long swig from her mug. Probably just people watching as well he soon guessed. There was more than one time he caught himself letting out a small chuckle at some random patron's antics in a tavern after all.

At least the woman can drink. The action caused him to look her over again in an attempt to size her up. Turning his attention back to the fire, he finally spoke in a low tone just loud enough for her to hear. "So what's the joke, if you don't mind my asking?" He looked at her again from the corner of his eye as a small pleasant grin gracing his expression while he awaited her response.