Solo Seeing Snakes

[Verin Rush]

41st Day of Fall, 514AV

The city of Ravok, where water, rather than earth, filled the space between the many buildings that made the city, was relatively peaceful and quiet. Syna’s bright rays had descended from the sky, and the city was bathed in Leth’s moonlight, which guided the citizens to where they needed to go. Tonight, many seemed to be guided by Leth’s silvery light over to The Malt House, which was booming, and selling meals and drinks to what seemed like half of Ravok. Verin Rush was one of the bartenders working this night and, despite the busy bells that the punters were forcing upon him, he found that each chime was as monotonous as the one before.

It had been a number of seasons since the rumours of the monster had begun to spread through the city, like wildfire latching onto the next branch, and the rumours had grown more and more fantastical in that time, rather than dying away. And the foreign arrivals to the city had only added fuel to the fire. “These snake people claim to have been living in the water all this time, you know?” Verin nodded silently as he watched the golden nectar flow from the nozzle and into the flagon. Would it were that the man wasn’t one of his customers; he would be free to ignore him.

“I heard the monster drove them out of the water”, a new customer, who had just walked over to the bar, joined in the conversation, as it was clear what Verin’s punter was talking about; everyone in Rhysol’s Chaotic city had been affected by the fish shortage. Everyone, and now it was made worse by the visitors to the city. “Which means that our lake has been infested with those… beasts for Rhysol knows how long! They’ve been polluting the water we drink.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from the patrons around the man who had spoken, and Verin couldn’t help but find himself in agreement with what was being said. Like the rest of the isolated city, the elder of the Rush twins was as xenophobic as the next man. Yet he raised a brow at the speaker, trying to lighten the mood a little ad he finally finished pulling the pint. He lifted it up onto the bar top and exchanged the flagon of golden ale for silver mizas from his earlier customer, who was now also engrossed in the chosen topic.

The bartender was not yet a member of the Black Sun but, since been invited to the Temple, he held himself to the same standards. Knowing the official standpoint on the visitors to the city, he spoke with fair decorum. "It’s clear to me that these… Ivyess… wish to return to the waters. If they have been living there without our knowledge, then I am more than happy to see them return to the lake at the earliest possible instant." Verin spoke gently, as he was aware that he was still working here, and had to show respect to the people paying his wage… he could not be seen to be ordering patrons about and telling them what to think.

[Verin Rush]

"Have you considered that, actually, the appearance of these… Ivyess Dhani… are the machinations of The Defiler himself? Maybe he has invited them into the city in order to assist with the ruination of this fell beast in the water, " Verin had tried to avoid preaching the word of Rhysol to his customers, so he was surprised when he heard a few ‘yeah!’s in the small group listening in, and it spurred him on, continuing to speak. "We might have lost our reserves of fish, but I heard that our fishermen have taken jobs down at the Cattail and Lilypad Farms, even at the Orchard… we are not as hard-off as some would like to think… and we can afford to feed these visitors. Now, what can I get you to drink?"

One took him up on his offer and ordered a dram of the cheapest whisky, which Verin was happy to serve. As he poured out three fingers of the fiery liquid, he continued to listen to the group as they continued to debate the positives and negatives of the filthy snakes taking up residence in the city. Verin wondered if it was wise to be offering the most loquacious man alcohol, but then it occurred to him that the man was far too coherent to be drunk; this was a sober man who had fallen so suspicion. “No, Verin, you’re missing the point. Them snakes aren’t welcome at the best of times. I seen ‘em here before… that poison crafter Parnell used ‘em for his creations, all they’s good for if you ask me. But now? When Ravok suffers more than ever before? We want none of them here. Them appearing now? It’s bleedin’ suspicious.”

“The problem with the loudest voice,” the thought occurred to Verin as he handed over the dram of whiskey and asked for 3 silver mizas in return, “is that people don’t seem to care as to whether or not it is speaking complete bullshyke. The voice forces itself upon any around and they are forced to listen, and then more will listen because everyone else is.” the young bartender’s thoughts were dark as he poured out another flagon of ale, with no choice but to listen to the raucous assertions from certain patrons that Ravok was, in fact, doomed.

One man approached and requested four ales, and Verin was happy to serve, if only to get away from the growing debate for a period. The man had come from one of the back tables and had not been a part of the conversation and as he waited at the bar for his order to be ready, Verin noticed that he was showing mild interest but did not seem particularly swayed by the arguments being put forth. Glad for the period of silence, Verin considered. The Malt House had not had any fish brought to them for days, and food as a general rule was going to the markets before coming o the taverns – the staff at the tavern knew that there was some truth to the arguments against the Ivyess, at least… but Verin could not accept that the Black Sun would do anything but act in the best interests of Ravok and its citizens.

He finished pulling the second flagon, and began on the third. About half the way through pulling this new pint, he noticed a reasonable amount of tension as he pulled the lever down to release the ale. Another sign that he would be reaching the end of the barrel soon was that the ale was coming out slightly more frothy than it should be, though it was still good enough to be served. As he pulled down on the lever again, he turned and met the eyes of another bartender, signalling that he would be needing a new barrel soon. The other nodded, and ducked out to the back, presumably to fetch one.

[Verin Rush]

With all four flagons now filled with the golden nectar, he lifted them all up onto the bar front and exchanged the drinks for mizas. The customer nodded sympathetically as the debate about the Ivyess continued to the right of him, before he returned the drinks to his three companions at the other end of the tavern. Oh how Verin wished he could join them. The blond bartender glanced along the bar quickly and, when he saw that no one was waiting for his service at the moment, he took the opportunity to also return to the back. He checked to see that the other bartended was okay with handling the new barrel of ale alone, and was glad that he was, before he carried on into the kitchen.

In the past, he might have been lucky to receive an entire meal from the kitchen, lest the food go to waste. But prices had gone up, and meat was now more important than ever, so he just picked up a small roll of bread to nibble on.He remained in the kitchen for a longer period than was probably warranted, and a few times he was shooed out of the way by one of the senior kitchen staff, and receiving simpering smiles from the younger girls. But he would not leave until he had made his way slowly through the whole of the bread roll.

He was still hungry, but he hoped that there would be some leftovers from the preparation food tonight, some that had to be eaten before it spoiled. Given the long hours, Grayson didn’t normally mind his staff eating, as long as they were not gorging themselves. Returning to the main room, he stopped off to pick up some cooled bottles of white wine, remembering that their front-of-house stocks had diminished somewhat. Once he had returned to the bar, Verin used the next few chimes to ignore any waiting customers as, ever the perfectionist, he took painstaking time to place the bottles on the shelves, so that they were all uniformly facing the same way.

“Oh, gods! No, you blithering idiot! Did your parents dip you into the canal one to many times when you were a baby? You’re missing the point!” The conversation grew louder and Verin could not drown it out. Placing the final bottle down, he glanced down at his hand and his eyes widened as he saw what he felt: shaking. He was astounded that, for every night since the Ivyess had approached Black Sun authorities, the same topic of conversation had filled the tavern. Verin was not sure how much more of it he would be able to stomach. He didn’t even have to pay attention to what was being said without knowing that they were still trying to justify hatred of the Ivyess.

Verin hated them too. But he was loyal to his God, and he was loyal to the faction that served him. And he trusted them. “Last time it was the fish, whether it existed, and how they would all be destroyed,” the blond bartender internally raged about it, “they didn’t listen what I said that it was a sign from Rhysol, which we needed to bleeding respect it as such, take notice of it. Not fear it. But now? Now they have forgotten the fish, and only recall it when it is of value to their petty arguments!”

[Verin Rush]

"I wonder, dear fellow," Verin did not know the man’s name, but he caught his attention nonetheless, as he reached up to one of the top shelves and pulled down an unopened bottle of a 24 seasons aged bottle of whisky. When he turned around, the punter was staring at him with little, black beady eyes, "If you have truly considered the facts here. Officials from The Black Sun have met with these supposed enemies of Ravok, those you say are stealing our food and living free in our city. The authorities know of their existence and accept their presence. So maybe we should too. "

The Djed welled in pools behind his eyes as he spoke, and coated his tongue, allowing his voice to become more charming, rather than harsh, more inviting, so that he would listen to what was being said. Glancing down, he uncorked the bottle, putting a little bit more force into it than necessary, so it popped louder than it should when came loose. He relished the strong, smoky smell that drifted up to his nostrils. He pulled out a single tumbler and made not show about pouring it for a customer. Some of the brighter patrons caught on to what he was doing, and only those who were not regulars looked surprised. Once poured, he picked up the tumbler, filled with a single dram, and downed it. His face contorted a little as the liquid burned down his throat.

"I have faith that Rhysol will support us through this, and I have faith that he is guiding The Black sun to make relations with those necessary to stop this… lake-monster from terrorising us further." Looking down once more, he poured himself another dram of the seasoned whisky, carelessly pouring himself more than he would normally do if it was to be given to a paying customer. Some, more incredulous, punters looked around to see Grayson watching, and were even more surprised to see a smile playing across the owner's face - there would be no rebuke for the young bartender.

He paused mid-speech when a group of five women entered the bar, and he made a bee-line to serve them. The conversation was not one that should he heard by the delicate ears of the fairer sex, Verin knew. Taking their order, he pulled out five pitchers, and slowly filled them all, keeping his eye on the flowing liquid, in order to make sure that each pitcher contained the same amount of fluid for the patrons. Placing them on the bar top, he offered all a warm smile and invited them to sit at one of the back tables near the hearth (which was as far from the bar as they could be), before requesting one gold miza from the party, which he accepted with a word of thanks.

[Verin Rush]

Before he could return to his speech, however, another entered, and he turned his attention, “What can I get for you, Sir?” The gentleman turned back and requested a dram of whisky, and the blond nodded, smiling, "Might I suggest to you the whisky matured for 24 seasons? I can honestly say that it’s palate is exquisite." In truth, he wanted to make his job easier; the bottle stood in front of him, opened and ready to go. The man hesitated and nodded, and Verin’s smile grew. He picked up the bottle, grabbing a tumbler, he poured out the correct amount, maybe even a little less, to make up for his over-pouring. Glancing up as he did so, she saw that the man had already placed the correct change on the table and he exchanged the tumbler of whisky for the mizas. “Thank you.”

Finally, he turned back to his audience, who were so shocked at his attitude that they had not returned to their own fear-mongering. Verin’s pride allowed him to think, however, that they were enthralled with his argument. He met Grayson’s gaze, who was looking at him pointedly, clearly imploring him to do something, and Verin knew what was said in that gaze. As with the fear around the fish, Grayson found that many were spending more money in drinking and discussing it, but that his clientele had dropped – it seemed that the wealthier individuals were no longer frequenting his family-friendly tavern, and he wanted them back.

Verin’s carefully constructed smile began to slip from his features, to be replaced by a stony expression, as he focused his efforts on clearing his mind, counting to five before he resumed his speech, which he knew had to make a lasting impression on the punters. He could not use Hypnotism to stop them all from their discussion, so persuasiveness alone would have to suffice. He silently prayed to Rhysol that those present were impressionable. "We have all prayed to Rhysol, our patron who keeps our city safe, for deliverance from this crisis."

"It is not beyond reason that, once more, Rhysol tests our faith and resilience by allowing us to meet with these… unsavoury Dhani. In passing this last test, we might find ourselves free from the monster, and we might see our lives returning to normal." He was preaching, yes, but he thought of his audience as little more than livestock, who had become so complacent that they had forgotten to truly think about what Rhysol meant to them. They needed to be re-educated.

Picking up his tumbler, Verin took a small swig of the whisky before locking eyes with the man closest to him, the loudest and most outspoken of the crowd. The two’s eyes met, pale blue orbs boring into the darker, sea-shade of the patron, and Djed welled into them, “You would do well to have faith our Lord, and those who serve him,” Verin murmured slowly, imbuing each word with as much magic as he could muster. Whether it was his magic that affected him, or the words themselves, Verin would never know. He knew that no man would publically argue with praise about Rhysol, so when the man nodded, and the conversation shifted, Verin was finally satisfied.

[Daegron]

The Future belongs to the Brave!

Verin Rush :

Skills

• Bartending +5
• Hypnotism +2
• Observation +2
• Rhetoric +3
• Persuasion +1
• Leadership +1
• Philosophy +1
• Socialization +2

Lores

• The hopeless boredom of a busy bartending night
• The Ivyess: Another kind of Dhani
• The Ivyess: Polluting the Blessed Waters of Ravok
• The Ivyess: Driven out of the waters by the Monstrous Fish
• People of Ravok: Always finding something to hate
• Hypnotism: Finding the proper Tone

Loot/Expenses:

• N/A

Injuries/Other:

• N/A

Notes and Comments :

Sweet little thread ! As always, you were balancing work with more "important" matters in a beautiful way.

If you have any questions or concerns about your grades and awards, do not hesitate to PM me so we can work things out. Also, remember to mark your grading request as Graded!