Flashback It is the hour to be drunken! [Val]

[Sybel]

13th Day of Summer, 510 AV

The seasons outside of Eyktol, most especially Summer, were milder and more hospitable. It was almost a luxury to lay in the direct sunlight, enjoying the occasional zephyr. It was one such day in Zeltiva that Sybel had been trying to treat herself well. Her skin was the color of burnished gold as she absorbed the sunlight, sprawled out on a patch of grass near the Fountain of Cascading Harmony. Her linen blouse was half-unlaced, her hide pants pilling at the sides. It was time to take better care of her appearance, she quietly reflected, rising from her nap. Sybel stretched leisurely, catlike in her torpor. As she rose, she jingled her coin purse in a reassuring manner. Perhaps a new outfit would be in order. It had been long enough – so long it was honestly embarrassing. Sybel had a way of blatantly disregarding her own gender. It was more inattention than open rebellion, as it’d been when she was young. The purse tinkled merrily back at her, so she charted a course to West Street despite her reservations. The better part of the afternoon was spent browsing, mostly in places she wasn’t meant to be. In the end, she ruled in favor of her original purpose rather than avoiding it and bought a tasteful few pieces of clothing – a flowing cotton shirt, an ornate red corset with gold detail and an attractive pair of black leather pants. Put together it made her feel like a wealthy pirate, which had been the goal. Her hair, recently washed, tumbled in its usual configuration of curls down her back, reflecting light. In all, she felt almost vain. This erect bearing must be how the Eypharians felt, she jested. There was the question of where to go after that. It would seem like a waste to simply go to the Library or back to her tent, as was her way. Her clothes were too fine for the Kelp Bar so that wasn’t a viable option either, unless she felt up to getting jumped afterward. That didn’t sit so well with her. She’d have to go to a more reputable place then, one where she would fit better. A light turned on in her head. She could swing by the World’s End Grotto. It was an Inn but a ritzy bar as well. The socializing would do her some good. It would be nice to feel a little above her own station in life. It was slightly above the Docks, framed by a few small hills. The masonry was highly irregular, but that was the charm. Pre-valterrian architecture was a commodity, and so despite its obtuse ugliness, the establishment was esteemed. She paused a beat, straightened, and then entered. When inside, she immediately slipped off her cloak and draped it across her right arm. The common room was reasonably busy, but just empty enough that each new arrival attracted notice. Pretending to see past it, her eyes swept the empty tables. There was no pretense for her to eat, really so instead she took a seat at the bar. It would be a night of debauchery and largesse. The first person to speak with her, she would buy a drink. Sybel waved a finger in the air. “One please.” She uttered distantly.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius Nitrozian often visited the World’s End Grotto, although it was not for the usual reasons. He wasn’t particularly interested in the food or the drinks, but he went there to see and be seen, to make connections that would hopefully be of use to him in the future. The World’s End Grotto offered the most varied group of patrons. It was well known, of acceptable quality, and the building itself was highly unusual. There was no tavern that was better suited to his goals. And so spent this afternoon sitting at the bar, pretending to be busy reviewing his notes on the Ancient Tongue (he was supposed to write a paper in which he analyzed its grammar) while he watched each person that came through the door closely. A glass of wine red wine sat in front of him, nearly empty. The Nitrozian was elegantly dressed, as always, although a lot of people in Zeltiva hadn’t heard or didn’t care about his name or his family and had no idea who he was. This time he wore black pants and a brilliant white silk shirt with a bit of lace at the sleeves and the collar. His cloak was draped across the back of his chair. It was too warm to be wearing it in the tavern. As she entered the tavern, he briefly raised his head and furrowed his brow. She was tall, with golden skin and blue eyes, not unattractive – in fact she was quite appealing - but there was something about her that irritated him. She was wearing pants like a man, and her clothes, while of fine quality, would have been more appropriate on a circus performer, some kind of actress or one of those pirates that sometimes troubled the Suvan Sea. She didn’t look like an honorable woman. „Are you sure you’ve come to the right place?“ he asked her as she sat down next to him. The tone of his voice was polite – Valerius was never impolite, at least not right away – but it was slightly cold. „There are other taverns at the docks that would be more appropriate for you kind.“

[Sybel]

As the bartender approached, a voice cut through the silence. The speaker in question regarded her with a superior drawl. “Are you sure you’ve come to the right place?” He inquired with frigid politeness. ”There are other taverns at the docks that would be more appropriate for you kind.” Sybel’s tidy eyebrows shot up in incredulity. Several responses rampaged through her brain, most of them less than courteous and all quite sarcastic. She reminded herself that she was out to have a good time. Speculatively, she gave him the once over. He was very attractive to her – a jaw cut from glass, vivid blue eyes and neatly cropped auburn hair. His outfit was highly affluent and to her almost laughable. Lace cuffs? Really? It had the misfortune of being both gaudy and flamboyant at the same time. Her brain produced a few more unkind thoughts before she silenced it and made good on her promise. After all, he had been the first person to speak to her. “What’ll it be?” The barman asked. Her eyes surreptitiously slid over to his drink – red wine, eh? “I’ll have two cabernet, one for myself and another for the gentlemen beside me.” She gestured to the nearly empty glass settled in front of him. He eyed her with marked interest – it must have been rare for someone to buy a drink for the man in question. And he was so kind, she thought dryly. What a shame. The bartender opened a new bottle, the cork releasing with a crisp popping sound. He retrieved a glass from under the counter, and filled both. She produced a gold miza and set it down lightly. “Keep the change.” Turning back to her new friend, she made a wry face. “I do believe I must be lost.” She said ironically.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

The woman seemed to be less than happy about his reminder that she didn’t belong here, but he had expected that. He wasn’t here to make her happy, so he just shrugged his shoulders and looked at her coldly. He hoped that she would be good and leave the tavern quickly and quietly. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument today, nor did he want to have to bear her presence longer than it was absolutely necessary. As she looked at him, almost as if she were studying him, appraising him, he frowned. He didn’t appreciate being looked at like that, especially not by one of her kind. He was about to tell her that, but unfortunately it was just then that the barman spoke. He decided to wait. He really wanted to get rid of her, but he didn’t want to interrupt a man who seemed to be at least halfway honorable and made the best drinks he had found in Zeltiva so far. That would have been impolite and unreasonable. You didn’t interrupt people when they were talking. As he heard her reply, his eyes widened slightly. Had he heard correctly? Had she just ordered him a drink? Was she a pervert? Did she enjoy being insulted? He looked at her warily, suddenly a little uncomfortable. „You did hear what I just said, right?“ he asked, to be sure that she wasn’t heard of hearing. He didn’t decline the drink though. Valerius never declined anything free, even if he was comparatively rich. He always welcomed an opportunity to save some money. „If you are lost, I would be willing to show you the way back to wherever you’ve come from“, he offered. He even smiled, but the smile was fake, and it didn’t reach his eyes.

[Sybel]

”You did hear what I just said right?” The arrogant noblemen asked incredulously. Yes, that’s what he looked like. The lace collar really set off the assumption. He looked like someone’s spoiled son. Sybel nodded, delicately picking the glass up by its stem and having a sip. Once she placed it back on the counter, she folded her arms and peered over at him. He looked at the gift she’d bought him and gave a tight smile. ”If you are lost, I would be willing to show you the way back to wherever you’ve come from.” Sarcasm was lost on this one. What else did she expect? With a light laugh, she turned away, shaking her head. She was blazing a trail of bad decisions today. Some tiny voice in her head chastised her for even moving from the comfortable knoll she’d been sleeping on earlier. The fountain had been delightfully free of people who cared. However instead of focusing on the fop she’d mistakenly sat next to, she decided to appreciate her drink. That was always a decent strategy. The wine was a beautiful color, not too dry, and with just a hint of fruit. She approved. The object of a good wine was to avoid too much sweetness. Otherwise it was just glorified champagne. It was sad how you could look high and low in such a populated area and not find a single friendly face. This time she did it to herself. Well, she sort of always did it to herself. Sybel had this brilliant way of repelling people. She reflected on this as she lifted the wine glass to catch the light. The deep burgundy complexion of the drink was translucent, free of imperfections. What a lovely vintage. The barkeep noticed and gave her a half-smile. “Good choice, eh?” He remarked. She nodded as she once more set it down. “Indeed.” Sighing, she took another sip. This was going to be a long quiet night. Unless… She surreptitiously glanced over at the young man she had the misfortune to sit next to. Was her very presence disgusting? He very well might be one of those types. Wishing to test the theory, Sybel racked her brain for something to say. “A fine summer this is.” She said simply, without even turning. Neutrality was the key. Secretly, she was watching from her peripheral vision to see how he’d react. It wouldn’t tell her everything, but his body language would make itself apparent. To be honest, she wasn’t even really sure where she was taking this. It might simply be fun to bother him. Or perhaps to get him wasted, force him to let his hair down.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Even if there was something wrong with the woman who had bought it, Valerius definitely appreciated the wine. It was a wonderful color and it tasted just right, with a hint of sweetness. They hadn’t had a better wine in the family mansion in Ravok, so he decided that it was appropriate to thank her, even if it was only with a nod of his head. „The wine is perfect“, he remarked to the bartender before he turned to face the woman again. „It is“, he agreed as she said that the summer was fine even though he didn’t have a particular interest in such trivial topics as the weather. Why did people always think the weather was a good way to start a conversation? He was interested in politics, philosophy and sometimes magic, but it was unlikely that she knew about those things, and he didn’t want to talk to her about them anyway. „I’ve always loved the summers in Zeltiva, although the weather is pleasant all year long where I come from.“ Truth to be told, Valerius didn’t have a lot of body language. He sat completely still, with his back straight – as if he had swallowed a stick - as he had been taught in countless lessons on etiquette in Ravok. He didn’t gesticulate – he thought it looked stupid if people moved their hands all the time – and the expression on his face was always comparatively cool. „Now tell me, have you been in Zeltiva for long? Where do you come from?“ If he wanted to remove her from the tavern and take her back to where she had come from, he had to know where she came from of course.

[Sybel]

He sat straighter than a board, she observed. It was really impossible to ascertain anything from the man’s posture except what she already knew – that he was incredibly uptight. To his credit and Sybel’s surprise, he even thanked her. ”The wine is perfect“ he remarked, eyes facing the bar. Well it was the closest thing to a ‘thank you’ she’d receive. He wasn’t the first affluent toerag she’d run into. At least he was polite about it. “It is,” he responded, which was yet another pleasant surprise. Despite his almost icy tone, there was some leeway in his obvious prejudice. At least, it seemed that way. Sybel was no mind reader, and he was nearly unreadable to begin with. “I’ve always loved the summers in Zeltiva, although the weather is pleasant all year long where I come from.” So there was a mystery to unravel. Where exactly did he come from? He was certainly a human, but it was hard to place him; he didn’t resemble any one specific sub-set. Nodding, she hid behind her glass. ”Now tell me, have you been in Zeltiva for long? Where do you come from?” The inquiry caught her off-guard. Did he care? “I’ve been here since last Winter, mostly exploiting the University’s library.” She paused for a beat, considering her next sentence. “I hail from Eyktol, though I haven’t been there for many a season.” There was no harm in identifying herself. If he had already taken an arbitrary dislike to her, new information wouldn’t alter that. Once again, she reminded herself of the good time she was supposed to be having. Her wine glass was already beginning to dwindle. Was she really drinking that quickly? It must be the stress. Attempting to ease the tension, she swung the focus back to person next to her. “Where exactly do you come from?” Sybel asked. Laying it on thicker, she added: “You must come from a prominent family.” Of course, that really didn’t matter in the slightest to her. However it more than likely mattered to him. Nothing broke the ice like good old-fashioned brown nosing.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Are you a student then?“ he wanted to know as she mentioned that she had been exploiting the University’s library. „I attend the university myself, but I can’t remember seeing you there. What are you studying?“ She didn’t look like a student, but more like a barbarian pirate as he had already decided before. He had been unaware that they admitted people like her. Maybe they needed the money, although hers probably came from an illegal source. He decided that he would wait a bit before he got rid of her. He wanted to know what kind of business he had at the university first … and finish his wine of course … „There are several servants and slaves from Eyktol working in the family mansion“, he informed her as she told him where she came from, and then he furrowed his brow. „You don’t look like an Eypharian“, he observed. „You have a few arms too few. So you are either a Benshira or of mixed blood …“ He stopped abruptly and then asked her something in a language that was probably unknown to her – Arumenic. His Arumenic was heavily accented, but unless she spoke it herself, she wouldn’t be able to tell. „Yes, I come from a prominent family“ he replied proudly. From the look on his face it was obvious that he expected her to admire him or envy him „The Nitrozians, my family, are one of the richest and most powerful families in all of Ravok. We are merchants and own several important businesses in the city. Have you ever been to Ravok?“

[Sybel]

“Are you a student then?” That was a difficult question. Shifting her weight to one side, she brushed a dark lock of hair from her eyes. “Self-taught.” Her reply was curt, almost self-important. “I travel far too often to enroll full time.” That would be a sufficient answer, but not satisfactory. Agitatedly she twisted the end of that particular strand between two fingers before letting it fall back into place. Her inordinate tolerance for alcohol meant she’d need a third glass before her woes ceased to matter, which was regrettable. “There are several servants and slaves from Eyktol working in the family mansion, he commented, but before he could continue, her jaw clenched furiously. The very word singed her, slightly unfurling her otherwise tight grip on civility. It was something she expected from individuals such as him, yet she couldn’t wrap her brain around it. Those were people not things. The good time she was supposedly having seemed more farfetched by the minute. “Another.” She requested politely, sliding her glass forward on the bar’s polished surface. The drone of his voice came back into focus: “…a few arms too few. So you are either a Benshira or of mixed blood …” Without being able to control it, she responded. “Your observational skills do you credit.” Her wise-ass remarks had been held in check up until that point. Her next drink slid back across the countertop, and she paid the man in kind. As this action was performed, the brat beside her intoned some thick, guttural language she didn’t recognize. Most likely showing off, she thought sourly. Oh how her disposition could change. She fought to maintain control of her emotions. At the implication of his wealth, he opened like a vault to a jailer. “Yes, I come from a prominent family,” he responded transparently. ”The Nitrozians, my family, are one of the richest and most powerful families in all of Ravok. We are merchants and own several important businesses in the city. Have you ever been to Ravok?” Oh, so he was from Ravok, huh? That explained a lot. He must be a Rhysol worshipper, like the rest of its inhabitants. She was half-tempted to roll her eyes. “No, I haven’t been fortunate enough to visit. I hear it’s quite romantic, very inspiring.” That was the best she could muster under the circumstances. Lifting the glass delicately to her lips, she took a long drag of wine.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„I see“, he remarked as she informed him that she was self taught. He was relieved to hear that. If she had been a student, he would have had to seriously doubt the quality of the university. „There is nothing wrong with being self taught. I often study on my own after class.“ He mostly did that because the professor at the university didn’t move fast enough for his taste. It seemed as if some of his fellow students needed a lot of explanations. „Where have your travels taken you so far?“ he wanted to know. She probably hadn’t done anything useful with her life so far, but moved from city to city and spent most of her time in taverns or on the water, playing pirate and bothering innocent people. As she ordered another glass, he frowned. She apparently didn’t only have a questionable fashion sense and attitude, she was also a drunkard. He on the other hand drank very slowly and enjoyed each sip (although he wouldn’t decline another free drink, another opportunity to save money he wouldn’t have spent in the first place). „I thank you“, he replied as she complimented him on his observational skills. He was too concerned with himself to notice the tone of her voice. „And yes, Ravok is quite inspiring. The whole city has been built on top of a lake, and the different parts of the city are connected by canals and bridges. You should really visit sometimes. There is no other place quite like it in Mizahar.“ „What is the place where you come from like?“ he wanted to know, secretly thinking that whatever it was like, it probably couldn’t compare to Ravok. Ravok was the greatest city in Mizahar.