PM to join Happy Hour [Rearing Stallion]

[Shiress]

Summer 513
70th day
16th Bell, 30th chime

The sun above the city slowly became veiled with heavy storm clouds seeping slowly across the land. A slow, distant rumble was followed closely by bright licks of lightening streaking across the darkened sky. Zulrav's winds grew through the city streets. A storm brewed over Syliras.

Shiress stood in the doorway of The Rearing Stallion, her eyes directed to the sky, watching the ensuing storm grow as her heart pounded, a thunderstorm, she well respected. Many days and nights did she kneel by the side of a fellow slave, struck down in the field of labor, their body riving in pain after lightning's quick touch. She felt spared, favored somehow by Zulrav himself, and in so, the slave girl turned barmaid had grown to love a thunderstorm.

Her eyes closed as the wind swept across her face, the smell of cold rain against the hot stone soothed her thoughts. She smiled, opening her eyes again, her sight lingering on the dark clouds before stepping away from the door and into the empty tavern. The lunch bell was long over and the supper bell would soon fill the Stallion with hungry patrons.

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde had used to love thunderstorms when she was young. Her brothers would go out and play in the rain, pretending to be warrior gods, battling in sodden clothing with long sticks stripped of leaves and branches. Back then, it had seemed that every smack! of their sticks had been echoed by the thunder above, or accompanied by the quickest, brightest flash of lightning like a burst of delighted laughter high in the sky. Isolde had been the third-youngest and the only girl in a family stuffed full of eight children, and hadn't ever really liked the boys' wild, daring sword-fighting games... so during the storms it had been her and her mother, standing in the doorway, hollering at her brothers to come in. Her father would eventually go running out and chasing them around the yard, all of them slipping and sliding on the wet grass until they were covered in mud. Then Mom wouldn't let them in until they'd washed off in the rain, and later after everyone was dry it would be fresh bread and chicken-broth-carrot-soup for supper, with Dad telling stories and everyone piled round the fire, the youngest boys sleeping on Mom's lap.

Now, as a plump raindrop fell from the sky and landed on the Nuit's upturned cheek, as her family lay long dead and their silly, happy life long faded, she couldn't really find any joy in the storm. It was just her and the sky, now, and the lightning wasn't laughter but just a quick blinding, white light, and the thunder was no more the clack of gods' swords than were her own footfalls on the damp stone street.

Said street was full of men just getting off of work, hurrying to the nearest alehouse for a drink with buddies, hoping to wait off the storm with good food and a lot of hearty laughter. The Nuit, as they weaved and pushed around her, as she tried to stay out of their way while they rushed around, had to wonder where she fit into the scheme of things on a day like this.

And then the rains came hammering down, and that melancholy thought was washed from her mind. What did it matter, anyways? Currently the only that that mattered was getting out of the street before it flooded and washed her clean away.

Wiping water from her eyes, Isolde dashed forward towards a doorway full of warm, yellow light, hand holding her hood in place as she tried not to let her feet skid out from under her, the worn soles of her old, brown boots not getting much traction on the soaked stone. She almost went down once but managed to swing her arms out to maintain her balance; unfortunately, that meant letting go of her hood and the instant she took her hands from it the wind roared up, knocking it from her head, and a blast of rain hit her in the face. Spluttering, hair dripping wet, the Nuit finally made her way into the bastion of light and noise that was the Rearing Stallion.

The place might have been empty mere chimes before, but now it had a healthy crowd, boisterous men and women come streaming in on their search for good company during the storm. Hardly anyone looked at the Nuit as she came stumbling into the place, the wind slamming the door shut behind her-- they were all trying to get the attention of the poor barmaid rushing around the counter... and then the Nuit stopped, rubbing more water from her eyes, and said, "Sh-Shiress?" Likely the poor girl didn't hear her, occupied by the sudden rush of customers; anywhere the girl turned she was met with patrons gaily waving their arms, calling out for a mug of beer or ale or something harder, hoping for a nice plate of hearty food to go with the drink. Not wanting to distract her from her work, but also wanting to say hello, the Nuit moseyed her way to the bar, finding an open stool and settling carefully on it, pulling her soaked hood over her hair and brushing away the droplet of cool water that had settled at the tip of her nose.

A few ticks passed before Shiress turned her way, and the Nuit quickly waved a hand, the corners of her mouth feeling tired as she smiled, unaccustomed much to the movement. "Need any help?" Despite the Nuit's customary nervousness, she was happy enough to see Shiress that her mood had visibly brightened, her stammer forgotten; Isolde didn't have many people she could call friends, but she was certainly glad to see the barmaid.

OOCSorry if that was terrible, and sorry for the dinner rush. ^^

[Ardan]

Ardan OOC INFOI hope I'm doing this right. This is my first post on Mizahar and I saw that this was an open thread. If I somehow misinterpreted that or did anything of the sort just inform me. Ardan had always loved the rain. He and his grandfather would play in it when he was a child: one of his fondest memories. It added a sort of life to the arid city of Sylirias. People would scramble through the streets, eager to get to shelter. Add this to the fact that many people were now getting out of work and simply getting through the street became a sport. Sadly, this was a thunderstorm. Ardan's instincts always caused him to jump at thunder. If it was merely a shower, he would have stayed outside and soaked in the rain. However, the first thunderclap caused him to nearly sprint to the nearest door, the entrance to The Rearing Stallion. Just a few chimes before, there was not a single customer in the building. Now there was a growing crowd. Ardan pushed his way to the bar and caught his breath. Attempting to get the barmaids attention, he began to stammer. He could never behave correctly around people he didn't recognize. Humans were the most difficult, given his race's natural attraction to them. He couldn't get her attention, but he couldn't blame her. Many of the other patrons were much more aggressive. "Poor girl," he thought "being a barmaid must be a difficult job." He stood their for a few moments until he heard the door slam. He turned to see a young human girl, approximately twenty years of age. His acute hearing picked up "Shiress" as she was looking at the barmaid. "Perhaps Shiress is her name." he guessed, "It would appear that I've identified the two most interesting people in the room. Of course, normal patrons are never very interesting. Something seems... different about these two." OOC INFOAgain, sorry if I shouldn't be here.

[Alex White]

The sound of thunder made the sky seem like it was shattering. A single drop of rain fell from the divine sky, falling through the clouds and made its way onto the head of a young boy who was on his way home. The little boy named Alex looked up at the sky. However, the grey and silver cloud weren’t in his view, all the boy saw was darkness and interpretation of what he thought was there. Alex isn’t able to see the world he stood in.

From where the single drop of rain came other followed. Each drop that fell from the sky, a dozen other drops followed. Slowly the rain got heavier and heavier, until the whole of Syliras was covered in a horrific shower of rain. Alex was running through the shower. He and his bird were getting wet. Because the sound of the rain was overpowering other sounds, Alex had to rely on his metal map of the city trying to find shelter from the rain.

Because his sound scape was being nullified by the rain, Alex constantly said “please move” to avoid bumping to people. In his mental map of Syliras, he noticed a building that was near. He wasn’t sure what the building was called, because remembering names of places is quite hard when you have to remember a whole city and when exactly you’re standing in it. “Okay, Lulu. We are going in that building on the left okay!” Alex said to his drenched feathery companion.

As Alex closed in on the build at a moderate jog, he turned towards the build with a hand out to touch the building. When he reached the building his wand explored along the wall, until he had reached the door. Alex took a step into the building. “Ow…” Alex gasped as his head bumped the wooden frame of the door, creating a small bump noise that resonated into the building.

Alex realigned himself and took a stop into the building, without hitting the door. Rubbing his head, Alex focused on the ground to allow navigating around the building with a bit of ease. Using Auristics, Alex could tell that the ground was made out of wood, but something had seeped into it. Alex wasn’t too sure what had the wood absorbed but he knew only adults used it.

Alex slowly walked through the building, creating a new mental map of the foreign area. From the sound of the various people around him, Alex learned that the building he stood in was called “The Rearing stallion” and that it was a tavern. “Oh, so it was alcohol” Alex said to himself as he linked the bits of information together. The wood had soaked up alcohol from when a person stilled their ale in the past.

Still drenched from the rain, Alex made his way to a seat and sat down at a table. Alex took his focus off the ground as placed his hand on his should and allowed Tallulah to climb on his hand. Tallulah was then placed on the table and Alex placed his backpack besides himself. Below Alex was a small pool of water from the rain he had collected on his clothing. Alex shivered as a small breeze from outside swept in and chilled his clothing.

“Are you cold, Lulu?” Alex asked his bird and he picked up his backpack placing it on the table. The bag wasn’t as wet as Alex or Tallulah, and the inside was quite dry.
“Go inside, Lulu. It’s warmer in there” Alex said, coaxing his feather companion to go inside.

[Kayelin Mannering]

"Bullshyke," Kayelin grumbled unhappily, as she trudged down the sparsely populated, and very wet street. Buckets of torrential rain were falling from the sky, loudly pattering her steel plating, flattening her hair into a wet mop, and running into all the openings of her armor, effectively soaking the padding and clothing underneath. Her boots slapped the cobbles in heavy, melancholy steps. Today, Aquila had wanted Kayelin to get a taste of what it was like to patrol the city, even if she was only meant to march around all day. Neither of them, though, were even stationed to do such a thing. Her patron patrolled the Bronze Woods, meaning she did too.

So why put her through the torture of traipsing around the entire city? At the moment, she was sure she'd never know. All she wanted was some shelter. Her stomach growled unhappily, and she shivered against the chill of the wind and rain. Thunder and lightning ripped through the clouds, shaking the very air and setting her teeth on edge. After getting caught in a horrible storm on her way to Syliras over the spring, she hated them. Kayelin was about as soaked now as she had been then, stuck by the Kabrin Road, huddled under an unpitched tent because the winds had been too strong to put it up.

A trio of men jogged by, the collars of their coats pulled up over the tops of their heads in an effort for some protection against the weather. And what did she have? Nothing but wet armor. Kayelin wiped the soaked hair from her eyes, combing it backward with her slick leather clad fingers. That's it, she thought irritably. Time to get out of this petching rain. She knew that ahead and around the corner was the Rearing Stallion, so she redoubled her pace, breaking out of her sluggish, unhappy walk, and into a brisk trot. Her armor clanked lightly with each heavy stride, and she puffed with the effort of keeping her balance on the slick street.

There! She rounded the bend in the alley and exited onto the street, welcomed by the sight of the tavern's sign, wagging wildly in the storm winds. Kayelin jogged to the door, letting a group of older women inside first, then quickly slipped through the threshold, into the dry warmth. The place felt about 100 degrees warmer than she was, soaked to the core in this cold steel armor. She looked down at herself, then signed when she saw the puddle that was quickly forming underneath her. Rainwater was running out of her armor and dripping from her body about as quickly as it was falling on the street outside.

Kayelin looked up, noticing a group dining and drinking at a table close to the door. They quickly looked away, making it obvious that they'd been staring. "Aye, move it, you big ape!" a voice suddenly shouted from behind, accompanied by a rush of air from the open door. She twisted, caught a look on the weathered man's angry face, and quickly shuffled out of the way. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she sputtered, even though she was almost a head taller than him, and bigger everywhere else for that matter. But his whole demeanor changed, when he got a good, drunken look at her borrowed armor. His face went a shade lighter under all the grime, and he shook his head back and forth like it was loose on his neck.

"No, no! I'm the one that's sorry. My mishtake," he rambled, slurring the last word. He must have been drinking at another establishment already. Kayelin smiled awkwardly. Pretty much two kinds of people wore plate armor in Syliras, and that was the Knights and their Squires. "It's alright, really," she offered, making a show of shuffling in another direction. "Too kind," he mumbled, half stumbling half walking to the bar. She shook her head and took her gloves off, wiping her wet face with an equally wet hand, and sighed. Great, not a dry spot on me. Kayelin wound through the tables of the tavern, which were quickly filling, ignoring the occasional stare she received.

She had to double take the young boy sitting alone, when she caught a flash of feathers in the corner of her eye. The second glance, though, all there was was his backpack. But still, a small boy such as him alone in a rowdy tavern in the middle of a storm? Kayelin picked her way back around to the side of his table, and placed a wet hand on his shoulder. "Excuse me," she started, in her low, deep voice. "You're not here by yourself, are you?"

[Shiress]

One right after the other, a relentless storm drove rain soaked patrons seeking refuge into the dry shelter of the Stallion. The nearly empty tavern, half a bell before, had filled fourfold and Shiress had gone from a lazy enjoyment of listening and watching the storm, to a near run, struggling to fill orders.

The barmaid disappeared into the kitchen to reappear a chime or two later with an arm full of white towels that she placed on the bar, plucking a couple away from the pile and grabbing a filled mug as she turned back to the open floor. Kevith would surely fuss and throw about sour looks at the girl for doing so, but still, she managed to always offer a few extended favors to her patrons when the watchful eyes of the owner turned away. "Here ya go." She said smiling, tossing one of the towel's to a still soaked man, doing his best to dab the water from his chubby, bewhiskered face with a small napkin. "This'll do better I think."

Turning away, her attention was brought to the bar by a tiny, albeit, pale waving arm. "Isolde!" The Nuit's white face and dark hallowed eyes were welcomed by a toothy grin and animated expression from the barmaid whose steps quickened to greet her newest friend. "Gods bless, it's good to see you!" She called out to the girl, slinging her arms out as if she would tackle the Nuit with a grand hug only to stop short of wrapping her arms around the girls slim shoulders. "Why doesn't any of my friends like hugs?" She questioned playfully, placing her hand on the Nuit's frigid back instead. "Consider yourself engulfed with a tight embrace despite the distress it would bring."

Shiress glanced around the noisy room, sliding herself into an empty stool by Isolde, and sighed. "I'd put you to work for sure, but you'd be more than hugged, my friend." She laughed, handing the Nuit a towel. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since..." The girl's words trailed off as another patron took his seat at the bar, just passed Isolde. "Let me see to him." She said, nodding her head in the direction of the dark haired man. "I'll be right back, OK?"

The barmaid lifted herself from the stool and slid around to the back of the bar and to the front of the male stranger. "Hello, what can I get ya?" She asked, leaning on one foot across the bar, grabbing a towel from the pile then offering it to the man. "It's a mess out there, no?" Emerald eyes gazed curiously into very similar, but then very different, eyes upturned to meet hers.

As she awaited the man's answer, the entrance door swung around on it's creaking hinges again and through the doorway stepped a soaked... boy? And was that a ...bird on his shoulder? Her eyes returned again to the man in front of her as the door, again, swung open and a very irritated and very wet metal clad man stepped through. No, wait. Metal clad woman, realizes Shiress thanks to a quick second glance. Behind the woman, the door yet again swung on it's hinges and an even more irritated face stepped out of the rain and in behind the woman. "Aye, move it, you big ape!" He groaned, his voice loud enough for the barmaid to hear and recognize. Shiress shook her head disapprovingly as her eyes trailed the squire, or knight maybe, who now walked toward the boy whose bird had some how disappeared. "Have a mind to your order, sir and I'll be back." She said, tapping her fingertips against the bar top before side stepping away.

Chuck, you old drunk

Shiress followed the old coot of a drunk to a table. She knew this rowdy regular named Chuck very well, long enough for him to develop a bit of respect for the veteran barmaid. "You careless old fool. Here, don't drip your filth on my floor" She said, her voice an audible growling whisper as she threw a towel against the old, grey haired, round man's face. "Mind your manners, Chuck." Green eyes lingered a chime in a stern gaze with the aged, pale blue and glazed over eyes that looked back at her before stepping away again. He knew full well Shiress meant for him to behave, especially noting that he just insulted a patrolling, peace keeper whose current possessions included a great big, heavy sword cuddled up against her back. Polluted old swine

The closer the girl came to the blonde, who now was addressing the boy, the more her eyes trailed upward. Gods, this woman was tall. As she passed the bar, she pulled a chunk of stale bread from a tray with one hand while the other grabbed a couple more towels. She slid silently up to stand beside the woman, green eyes barely level with the woman's metal covered chest. After tossing a towel on the floor to soak up the rain that had made it's way into the tavern's entrance, she shifted round and handed one to the towering blonde, craning her neck to offer a kind smile. "Ever do body guard work?" Shiress said musingly. Her eyes lowered to the boy as she leaned across the table, placing the chunk of bread by his hand. "there, that is for your stowed away, feathered friend." She smiled, straightening herself, green eyes finding the blue of the woman again. "Everything OK?

OOCArdan, you are most welcomed to my thread and I'm honored to have your first Mizahar post! Welcome to the best RP site on the net! To the rest of the soaked threaders, welcome as well Lets try to keep the posting order if we can.

[Isolde Seibold]

It seemed like Shiress was there one moment --flinging her arms out and then giving a more conservative greeting when the Nuit unconsciously flinched back-- and then was gone the next. Hardly had the barmaid managed to slide onto a seat next to Isolde, offering the Nuit a towel for which she was very grateful... before another customer popped up that needed attending to, and from the look of things Shiress would be very busy indeed. That was okay, the Nuit didn't mind waiting, and in fact it would give her a few moments to collect her thoughts. She needed a moment or two, she thought. Seeing Shiress --despite her like for the girl-- was bringing back some uncomfortable memories from that terrible night at the Coin, certain memories that made Isolde's fingers clench and her stomach quail --not to mention the guilt that came snickering to life inside her. "Take your t-time," was all she said as the barmaid flounced away to tend to her newest patrons.

Once Shiress was gone, the Nuit scooted a bit further forward on her stool, using the towel to dab at her face, trying not to wipe the paint from her eyes and mouth, hoping it hadn't already all been washed away. She was glad Shiress had given her the towel; it gave her something to do while she waited for the girl to return, as she struggled to shove the memories into their proper place. It wasn't that the Nuit couldn't handle the thought of-- of what had happened. She had seen things, much worse things, in her time. But her own life's... tragedy had long since been cowed into submission, she had gone over it hundreds, thousands, millions of times, day and night, reliving what had happened over and over and over until it had become... bearable. What had happened at the Coin, the way that poor man --her pursuer, she had to remind herself, he had been trying to hurt her, hurt them all-- had laid there, so still and heavy, and the knife--

Those memories were still fresh. It was still hard to contain the guilt, the sorrow, the-- the helplessness of being unable to do anything, of knowing that this had probably happened because of what the Nuit had done. Shiress had said, back then, not to blame herself-- but how could she not? Shiress might have been the one to-- to-- to do the thing itself, but Isolde had practically put the knife in her hand. And she had provoked the man --accidentally, but did that even mean anything?-- in the first place.

Well, one thing was for certain. Unless Shiress wanted to bring it up herself, the Nuit was going to try her darnedest not to think on it. Not here. What she needed was a distraction, until Shiress got back. Someone interesting to bring her mind
off--

And then Isolde looked over, her ears catching Shiress' voice raised, reprimanding someone, and they fell on the girl's company. She had hoped for a distraction... but not this. Certainly not them.

That woman standing there, soaked and dripping, she was big, gods she had to be one of the tallest people the Nuit had seen in a long while, and dressed in that platemail, or whatever it was, she looked simply gigantic to the 5'1 Nuit. But somehow Isolde found her eyes being drawn past the woman, squire or Knight or whatever she was... because she had her hand stretched out, gently laid on the shoulder of a small boy, and the Nuit suddenly found that her mouth had gone dry. She looked down at the towel clenched in her hands, telling herself that if she could deal with Kouri and Rena she could deal with the sight of that little child, simply sitting there, doing no harm. Still, she wanted to leave in that moment. Curse the storm, she'd run through it and consider herself lucky to be away from this place where a child should not be-- and perhaps that was why his presence was effecting her so strongly. Kids shouldn't be in here. Probably he had, like her, fled into the building as the storm picked up. But still. It was harder to control her reaction, the unreasonable fear that she found clawing in her belly, because she had not been expecting to have to deal with it. A kid, here. Really.

Well, it would be fine. No need to worry. She could just-- just keep herself away from the boy and his large companion, she would sit here and wait for Shiress to come back, and then she could tell the girl that she wasn't feeling well, or-- or something, and then she could leave. In fact, she'd hail Shiress now, busy or not, and apologize and be on her way, and it would all be fine as long as she didn't look over and see something that reminded her of Wynry, speaking of memories that should have long since been buried--

Her eyes unconsciously flicked in that direction, and she looked away, but not before she saw the boy's little bird, and now she had to battle the urge to go over and say hello to the creature. Not many had birds as companions in the city, and the closest Isolde had gotten to petting one of the lovely, flying creatures had been that gull --the one she had unfortunately begun to think of as 'Shyke'-- at the docks, the one that would swoop down and sit next to you for a few crumbs of bread or scraps of dried meat. She wanted dearly to go say hi to the little bird-- but the boy was there, and she didn't want to have to look at him, or talk to him, no. That was out of the question, wasn't it--? Especially with his big friend there, who might take offense to a Nuit coming over and saying hello--

Still, she was at the edge of her seat. Was it because she wanted to leave, or to go over and introduce herself? She honestly didn't know. What she did know what that she would wait here for Shiress. When the girl came back, she could ask about the boy, about his pet-- The Nuit had to stop herself from throwing over another look. Perhaps Shiress could take her over there, Isolde could stumble out a mumbled introduction, and then she could focus her attention on the bird, and ignore the boy at any means possible-- But no, that would be rude, wouldn't it? Yes, of course, and they would never understand. This was such a strange situation, a strange feeling. The boy --simply by being a child-- was enough to make her feel very uncomfortable, almost to the point of dull fear... while the bird set her at ease, made her yearn to touch its soft feathers, made her think of all those great times with Vaughn and his birds, like Caity and Eagle and all those nice, brown hens and all the rest-- She really didn't know what to do, and it made her feel foolish, on top of it all. Her reaction was crazy. Normal people weren't like this, didn't get so caught up like this, so worked up over nothing--

She set herself determinedly to drying her wet hair with the white towel, and to waiting for Shiress to return.

OOC^^' Sorry for the long, weird post. Was having a bit of trouble with it at first.

And sorry for the delay!

[Ardan]

Ardan "What can I get ya?" Asked the barmaid at a specifically bad moment. Suddenly, without warning, all of the feelings of guilt and pain that Ardan had repressed over the years came pouring over him like molten steel. He could barely think, much less reply. "It's a mess out there, no?" she continued, attempting to make conversation. He had barely been able to bring his eyes up to meet hers when she was already gone, having told him to think of an order. It was good that he was in a bar when this happened. At least he would have something to drown himself in. What is going on? He asked himself. I've never felt guilt before. Perhaps it is being back in the city? He needed something to take his mind off of this, be it a drink or a fight. Anything would suffice. He had just finished this thought when he heard commotion at the door. An enormous woman and a child with a bird come in around the same time. There was shouting and cursing coming from everywhere, but it was all just noise now. Ardan couldn't seem to hear anything correctly. The only details he could pick up were very small, such as a drunk man spilling his drink or the young, human woman beside him shuffling in her seat. "Gods, I need a job." Ardan said to himself, hitting the bar with his palm, "I need to be focused on something or I'll go insane."

OOCThanks for the warm welcome, Isolde and Shiress! I'm glad to see that this forum is much more welcoming than ones I've been on in the past. Sorry about the short -and probably filled with typos- post. I'm writing this on my phone and I'm about ready to pass out. Thanks for putting up with a newbie!

[Kayelin Mannering]

Kayelin tried to twist around at the sound of the woman's voice, which turned out to be futile. Sometimes, in moments of distraction, she could forget when she was and wasn't wearing armor. That would be something to work on. Instead of turning her torso, the armor caught and clanked, making her curse under her breath. She had to turn her entire body, instead, bumping the boy's table with her metal covered hip in the process. It scooched loudly across the floor, jarring to a stop a few inches to the left. "Sorry!" she stammered, grabbing the edge of the table in embarrassment, even though it had already stopped. "Yes, I think everything is alright. And no, no body guard work. Just a lot of practice on my own, and getting into scraps when I was younger," she admitted, gratefully taking the towel. A barmaid, obviously. Always handy.

She patted the dry material against her wet face, then scrubbed it against her soaked head, absorbing a little bit of the water in her blond locks. Kayelin's hair now stuck up in messy, damp clumps. She shivered inside her armor, as the warmer air of the tavern soaked through the openings in her plate gear and kissed what wet skin wasn't padded underneath. She hated the cold. Especially when wet. Being in armor was a whole new miserable addition to the combination. Absently, Kayelin started wiping off her steel chest plate. The barmaid was small, very small. But this wasn't unusual, since she herself was just so much taller than most women. It was always a pleasant surprise to run into a female her own size, yet also rare.

So she was used to looking down, and even sometimes ways down. The woman had a pleasant face, easy to look at. Dark hair, something Kayelin always wanted. The one eye not covered by her sheet of brown hair was a beautiful green, also something she always wanted. Kayelin's features were light in color, and her skin was a little pasty. At least it had been, until she started training out in the sun so often. Now it seemed she was permanently sunburnt, especially on the nose. A little self consciously, she put a hand to her nose, trying to feel if any skin was still peeling off, but she had gloves on, and thus couldn't tell.

"Is everything good in here?" she asked, trying to sound professional. It would probably be frowned upon if anyone realized she was just in here to get out of the rain. After all, weren't Squires and Knights supposed to be tough and resilient, and not run for shelter just because of some precipitation? "There are a lot of people in here tonight, seeking shelter." Kayelin draped the now wet towel over her shoulders, after wiping underneath her armpits. She glanced around the tavern, filled with voices, some laughter, and a haze of tobacco smoke. Who here in their right mind would be dumb enough to try anything raucous? Probably no one in here at the moment. But she thought it would look good if she went through the motions. Or what she thought looked like something that could be considered 'the motions'.

Plus, having a 6'4" steel clad, and armed woman walk through the door probably sobered some goofballs right up. No one was going to cause any problems, but if they did, she'd get to kick them out with her impressively sized boots. "Been a lot of water to clean up?" Kayelin couldn't help but blush a little, knowing she'd tracked in a lot just on her own.