Closed [Rearing Stallion] A Blacksmith Walks Into A Bar...

[Aidan Sutter]

51st of Spring, 513 AV

The lazing bells between lunch and dinner at the Rearing Stallion were often left to a more surly breed of regulars; men of age who had no jobs to speak of and a world’s worth of experience brimming at their callused fingertips. The creaking stools they occupied along the bar’s varnished edge were their homes away from home, and the drinks that filled their mugs a last remaining drop of their guilty passions.

Exhausted by what surprises life had offered them in decades past, and only wishing to find a stretch of comfort before they became too infirm, these were men who had witnessed things the likes of which younger generations could not even fathom. And every day they came here to the Rearing Stallion to swap stories of the past, laugh, drink ale, and of course, curse their black guts out.

“Never seen such a petching horrific storm in all me life. Lost two good grandsons that day. One was destined to join the Order, I‘m sure of it.”

“Aye, shyke. My younger brother lost his entire herd as well as his house. Wife and I took him in, but he hasn‘t been able to get back on his petchin’ feet since. Turned him into a lout.”

“I had a cousin who was in the mine that collapsed…Never had a petching chance… It’s said you can still hear their voices between the cracks in the rocks.”

“Did any of you see the rubble at the dormitories? To think where we’d be without our Knights…”

“But we should all be thankful that the gods saw us fit to live past it, and unite us in our sorrow.” Kevith’s voice was a powerful equalizer, his one good arm raising a mug of water to the air as he weighed each man with a gaze that could fill an empty heart with courage. “To those we’ve lost, and those we‘re lucky enough to still have. Cheers.”

“Here here,” came the groaning chorus.

Between refilling mugs and inserting a healthy dose of levity into each conversation, Kevith was a man whose ability to stay positive despite what life had done to him kept the spirit of the tavern warm and welcoming. He radiated inspiration, and drew people from all around like moths to a benevolent flame.

The middle aged ex-knight leaned slowly back against a wall of kegs behind the bar as the room fell silent, crossing his one arm against a barreled chest as he turned the mug in his hand. A sidelong glance was cast to one of his moths in particular who had come to him all the way from Sunberth, a thought occurring on his grizzled features that spawned a smile between the graying hairs of his beard.

“Aidan, lad! Tell these gentleman a joke! Let’s liven the place up a bit, aye?” Kevith’s voice was filled with mirth and on the cusp of a laugh, his dark brows wobbling mischievously along his wrinkled forehead.

The young Sunberthan, who had previously been staring pensively into his half consumed mug of dark brown ale, snapped to attention at the call and pulled himself away from the long bar’s edge. Gazing blithely out to his audience whom all held him with slight contempt of his youth, Aidan measured them each with an impish grin and took one last sip of ale before setting the mug down.

”There was once a farmer out east who had over a hundred hens, but no rooster to mate with them, and he wanted chicks for a new generation. So he traveled down the road to the next farmhouse and asked the farmer there if he had a rooster. The other farmer said: ‘Yeah, I’ve got this rooster named Rand. He’ll take care of every hen you own, without fail.’

The price for Rand was very steep, but the farmer decided it would be well worth it to have a rooster that could service each of his hens. So he took Rand home with him, set him down in the middle of the large coop he built for all the hens, and then spoke to the rooster before letting him go. ’Rand,’ he says, ’there’s a lot of hens here, and I paid good coin for you, so pace yourself and try to have a good time, alright?’

Strangely enough, the rooster seemed to understand and started immediately in on the hens. Within a bell he’d laid with each one three or four times. The farmer was clearly astonished, but Rand refused to stop there, going out to the lake where he saw a flock of geese by the water’s edge. Within another bell he’d laid with all the geese. Rand, however, refused to even stop there. He went after the farmer’s pigs, his cows, his horses, his sheep, and every other animal the farmer owned.

This left the farmer quite distraught, worried that his new prize rooster wouldn’t even make it through the day, and after he‘d paid such good money for him. So he went to sleep uneasily that night and woke up the next morning. Sure enough, he found Rand laying out in an open field with buzzards swarming overhead the next day.

The farmer raced to his rooster’s side, saddened by the event of his death and knelt beside him. ‘Rand, I tried telling you to pace yourself,’ the farmer says. ‘Now look what’s happened.’ Just then, Rand opened his eyes, looked to the farmer, nodded to the sky and said: ‘Shhh. They’re getting closer.’”

A tavern once shadowed by a curtain of ominous silence broke into raucous laughter, as old men who had grown cynical with the world felt for a brief moment what it was like to be young men in the prime of their youth.

x

[Hadyn Skellig]

It wasn't often Hadyn found herself with idle time, the rare occurrence leaving her unsure of what to do until an obligation needed to be filled. Without something to do the woman was practically worthless. She'd finished her morning work far quicker than anticipated and thus found herself wiling the time away staring into space like a halfwit. Her coworkers sent her off after half a bell of this behavior, shooing her from the smithy to be useless elsewhere.

After mulling around the Nettle District for an inordinate amount of time the blacksmith resigned herself to make a quick visit to the Stallion. In truth she probably should've cut her loses and gone there to begin with. It was only a matter of time before she wandered in - the drunk she was. Besides, she reasoned, she now had a friend working the place. Best to see how ol' Shiress was getting on, no?

It was well into the sixteenth bell when she finally creaked the door open, the sound of laughter spilling into the street. She half expected it to be empty, but the place was populated by the men who were quick to depart when the evening crowd arrived. The aroma of cooking food and pipe smoke wafted temptingly toward her as she stepped into the dimmed space. Without the hustle and bustle of the night owls the place was quaint - homey even.

Her boots thudded lightly against the ground, a grin on her lips as she greeted the gentlemen with a cant of her head. Striding casually forward, door shutting behind her, the woman tossed an upward jerk of her chin toward Kevith in greeting. Some of the men were familiar to her, others not. It seemed she and the only fellow not coming down from the throes of laughter were the youngest by a decade or two. Hadyn approached them without delay, a smile on her lips.

"Afternoon," she issued a congenial salutation as she approached an unoccupied space at the bar. "Kevith." She rested one forearm on the wooden surface as she aligned her body so she could view both the patrons and the two men behind the bar. "Seems I've been showin' up at t'wrong bell this whole time. You boys look to be havin' all the fun."

Hadyn flashed a devious grin before turning her attention to the younger man.

"S'ppose y'couldn't get me a mug of the ol' ale to wet my tongue?" she winked at him with a quirk of her lips before looking at Kevith.

"Aren't you a bit early to start the grog, Haddie?" the man inquired with a piqued brow despite the smile playing on his lips. The brunette shrugged one shoulder in response, resting her weight against the forearm on the bar, one hip jutting out as she tilted her head in response.

"Probably. But then, how else am I t'catch up to these lads." She tossed her head toward the other patrons, a smile on her lips before shaking her head. "Truthfully, I'm here to see if Shiress is about."

[Aidan Sutter]

The tavern door swung hopefully upon its oiled hinges as the floorboards blanched to the warm daylight splashing casually across the stained surface. Its disruption was an event hardly worth cataloguing by anyone who spent enough time in the Stallion to witness the crowds the place attracted. Yet, as Aidan’s eyes briefed over the curvy silhouette occupying its threshold, it became decidedly difficult for him not to stare.

She approached with all the self assurances of a Syliran Knight, a dark curtain of hair framing a fair countenance with dusky eyes that were predisposed towards mischief. No rattle of armor nor glint of pommel gave any indication that she was one of the city’s devout loyalists, however. In fact, aside from the mantle of pride she adorned so effortlessly upon her well trimmed shoulders, the woman eschewed greatly from the Order by merit of her unspoken character alone.

Most might have balked at the sight of so many men huddled conspiratorially around a bar, their eyes all eventually following the path of Aidan’s own as their laughter wore thin. But not this one. She stepped through the curtain of eyes without pause. And while the chef’s gaze was imbued with a more noble sense of courtesy, the older men gawked at her unabashedly, their years of life having thoroughly whittled away at any sense of propriety.

To them, she was nothing more than a piece of sweetest eye candy, fueled by the cups they’d already consumed as lecherous mutterings passed quickly amongst them. Kevith shot the entire gallery with daggered glares, pounding his mug threateningly on the counter when he could begin to decipher what some of them were saying. Yet with the girl a sense of warm familiarity entreated his gruff features, the man’s temper vacating almost as quickly as it had been summoned.

Their friendly exchange drew an easy sigh from Aidan’s lips, comforted somehow by the informality as he nodded affably to her request. Setting his drink down in front of him, he made quick pace with fetching a new mug and filling it from one of the casks stacked next to Kevith. Returning the ceramic to her with white foam drizzling slowly down its side, an encouraging smile fled briefly across his lips as he addressed her question before Kevith found the chance.

”She’ll probably be in this evening to help serve the masses,” he drawled while chancing a single glance across the bar to the other men that occupied it, tipping his mug towards them as if to address them. ”She’d be a fortune of liability with these salty old bastards here.”

The old men’s groans of objection became unanimous as it filled the bar, Aidan’s expression quickly highlighted by deleterious glee as he received a host of insults and threats. Kevith managed to calm them down by waving his hand in the air, though it had become increasingly difficult for him not to smile as well.

Out of the dying roar of discontent, Aidan’s chuckle arose, his head shaking as he stared at the newest guest once more. ”They may be slow on their feet, but watch out for their hands. You‘d think they’d practiced Flux in their prime.”

The chef’s approval ratings slightly rose as the men’s smiles lifted the darkness from their brows, some more depraved than others.

x

[Hadyn Skellig]

Attention previously concentrated on the patrons swiveled along with her gaze to the young man behind the bar who was quick to fill her order. She couldn't decide if she'd seen him before, the vague familiarity of his features suggesting he'd been in the city for a season at least. But as he set the drink down Hadyn decided she did not know him yet. A grin pulled gently at one corner of the brunette's lips as she slid the appropriate coin his way, fingers touching the pieces until they were within his grasp. Settling back to her original stance, Hadyn wrapped a hand around the mug and flashed a smirk at the man's final comment.

"Oh aye," she agreed with a flick of her gaze to the subject of their discourse. "Quicker than a pick pocket in the midday market, I've no doubt."

Taking a slow sip from the overdrawn mug, the woman kept a casual gaze on the men. One or two she'd seen at the shop, others known from passing, and a few without any ken. The comments Kevith so effectively quieted bothered her little, illustrated with relaxed posture and a measured setting down of her drink. One did not frequent the Stallion without something of a backbone. These men likely whittled their Miza here before shoving off to lose them entirely at the Coin. Their salacious glares and gruff jabs were met with an affable smile from Hadyn.

"You boys make sure you're right gentlemen to Shiress, now. And you," she leveled her gaze with Kevith, face turned in profile to the patrons and an accusatory finger directed at the former Knight, "don't let her get into the booze. The girl hasn't the stomach for it, Yahal bless her."

The grin on her lips indicated her statement was simply a congenial warning as she dropped the convicting finger and took another slow sip. Experience suggested the barmaid needed a bit more practice in the horrid art of intoxication and Hadyn wished her to do so in company of those who would keep her safe. Kevith would see to it the girl was well whilst on the job. Now the brunette's gaze settled on the younger man again. He didn't look the part of a rapacious scoundrel but she could hardly leave it to appearances. Settling brown eyes on the fine bone structure of his face Hadyn gave him the once over before looking to Kevith. Shifting her stance so she was facing the two, forearms placed flat upon the bar she leaned against them, right hip cocked to the side, one foot resting on the rung of a stool beside her.

"Hope y'aren't plannin' to make this one," a nod to the blue eyed fellow, "wear the corsets y'make your barmaids prance 'round in."

[Aidan Sutter]

The two silver rimmed mizas that lay abandoned upon the bar captured the beryl blue eyes of Aidan with slight interest, his right hand setting the mug down and moving to collect the payment as he squeezed each coin warmly into the flat of his palm. Their scratched and worn surfaces carried tales from travels the likes of which only a follower of Eyris could rightfully tell. But it was the chef’s light and abbreviated chapter in their chronicle where their purpose went slightly beyond commerce.

The woman across from him commanded her audience with headstrong magnetism, an undaunted demeanor such as hers hard to find among the fairer sex. All previous reservations the older men might have had about luring such a pretty thing into bed halted upon the razor sharp tip of her tongue, however. Her manner may have been playful in nature, but it was deeply underscored by a sense of her ability to break the hand that so much as thought about reaching out to grab a supple curve.

She was not some barmaid with a faltering shoulder sleeve dipping down to her elbow, and a freckled smile that hinted towards a loose disposition towards bedmates. She was more akin to a poisonous flower, the younger man surmised; beautiful to gaze upon, but woefully dangerous to touch without permission. It kept Aidan a comfortable distance from engaging her, but hardly deterred him from being any less the man he was.

The coins he collected moved to the finger tipped cradle of his hand minus the pinky. Being raised in Sunberth, one was bound to pick up slightly more than a natural ability towards a respectable profession. In fact, if one left her walls without a form of knowledge that pandered towards the unscrupulous, those few were considered true diamonds in the rough.

Aidan’s delight in small tricks that involved a sleight of hand had captivated his attention from the very beginning, coins the preferred medium among those in the Daggerhands. He’d watched as men had been able to make mizas twirl impossibly between fingers, defy the laws of gravity, and disappear from existence all together. The boy had reformed most of those skills to his practice of cooking over the years, but still retained quite a few tricks that delighted the fancies of the eye with the polished surfaces of coin.

With both mizas pressed flatly together, his thumb slowly rolled one counter clockwise over top of the other, the turquoise gemstone at its center catching a glimmer of diluted light and exposing the marbled white stone of the coin behind it. Then, pulling his thumb gently back, the first coin flipped over the second and joined its silver rimmed twin behind it.

This began slowly at first as the process repeated itself, the trade noticeable until his fingers felt comfortable with the motion and the process quickened. Enough to the point where the eye could only catch the quick exchange of color. The mizas themselves made a metallic hum as they passed across each other, barely a disturbance against the words of this Hadyn who seemed so blithely engaging.

Then suddenly, as if one miza had grown tired of the game Aidan’s fingers played, disappeared from sight all together without so much as a farewell. Such that it was only the white marbled piece that remained, twirling and flipping between his fingers as casually as it had before. When the young woman gestured towards him, however, the last remaining coin dashed to the void as well.

Pulling both his arms up along his torso, and with palms decidedly empty, Aidan cupped both hands against the tawny fabric covering each breast and tugged the muscles up and down. The gesture might have looked more alluring and bawdy had a woman done such a thing, but for the young man it was nothing short of absurd.

”We’d certainly attract a different sort of crowd,” he observed as though actually considering what she had to say, eyes gazing down as each pectoral wobbled in his hands. “The food might suffer, though. Not sure I could concentrate on my cooking with all those eyes upon me. Corsets are too revealing of my boyish figure…”

Dismissing both hands back to each side, the grin that broadened Aidan’s lips aimed itself towards the woman who sipped purposefully at her drink. Kevith accompanied the roll of his eyes with the condemning shake of his head.

x

[Hadyn Skellig]

Her attention (for the most part) remained on Kevith and the other patrons, occasional glances offered to the young man behind the bar. The sleight of hand he employed to remove the coins was only noted when he snapped to attention and the coins wholly disappeared, Hadyn's awareness of the trick somewhat slow to pick up. She didn't have a head for capers, though she found herself mildly intrigued by the man's prestidigitation. It interested her enough that she made a mental note to indulge her curiosity later when the opportunity arose.

A wide smile pulled her mouth reflexively as he waggled would-be breasts in a ridiculous manner, a slight chuckle released through parted lips as she set the mug down. The smile grew at Kevith's response, brown eyes warm with levity and affection for the older man. It was evident the former Knight endeared the blue-eyed stranger in a manner only a handful achieved and to Hadyn that was enough to judge a person's character, if only superficially. Settling from the amusement the blacksmith took another draw from the mug, her attention returned to the younger man. Swallowing and setting the vessel down with a thud, she arched a brow over mirthful brown eyes.

"Keep that up an' you'll have me hot 'n bothered before supper," she informed him with a grin and a wink. Casting an appraising glance toward the men, who'd mostly gone back to muttering and conversing with each other, the woman canted her head to knock a dark lock of hair from her eyes before returning her gaze to Kevith's handsome employee. Pulling her hand from the mug Hadyn brought her index finger to her mouth, quickly removing sloshed alcohol from fair skin with a touch of her tongue. After brushing the hand across the fabric of her shirt just below the collar bone, she extended the appendage toward the stranger, booze and saliva free.

"Best not to wait on Kevith to supply introductions," she explained, leaning slightly over the bar so he wouldn't have to. "Hadyn, weaponsmith and drunk."

[Aidan Sutter]

Reaching back for his mug, Aidan wasted little time in dispensing with the remainder of its murky contents, eyes rolling back as his cheeks swelled to near bursting. Allowing the drink to slosh down his throat all at once, a silent hum of euphoria quickly filled his head, the poison’s enticing bite causing eyelids to lazily shutter halfway.

With a wobbling smile and the hint of a blush resting on each side of his nose, Aidan chuckled huskily at the woman’s mockingly flirtatious riposte. Turning his mug over on its head, he abruptly set the empty container down and wiped a small stream of amber liquid from the corner of his lip by the tawny sleeve of his shirt.

Aidan seemed to understand what the woman was heading towards before she even began to speak, right hand wiping casually along the apron covering his thigh. Greeting new faces was but one of the many perks to working in a place like the Stallion, travelers the world over choosing the location for an atmosphere that allowed one to cut themselves free from the stresses of life and meet others who only wished for the same.

Slipping his hand firmly into hers, the title of “blacksmith” seemed to earn her a look of approval and consideration that had not been shown before.

”Aidan. Cook, and certainly getting there.”

The grin he offered was fleeting, hands shaking briefly as he thought to bend down and kiss the back of her palm. Something told him, though, that the gesture would lose some of its appeal to the groans of disapproval from others that were well into their cups. It stopped him short, and instead became a light nod of respect.

”Say, you wouldn’t have the time to come look at a few of our knives would you? Blast the eyes the gods gave me, but I can ne’er tell if they need sharpened. That is o’course, if it’s alright with the big fellow.”

The chef’s gaze turned to that of the tavern’s proprietor, seeking his approval with something akin to a doe eyed stare. Kevith appraised his cook for a moment, perhaps seeing if there wasn’t some ulterior motive stashed away in the dark corners of his employee’s eyes before he nodded gruffly and offered Hadyn a warm smile.

“She’s been here enough times. Might as well see the whole place…”

x

[Hadyn Skellig]

Receiving Aidan's hand for a brief but firm shake Hadyn grinned at his response. She tipped her torso back to stand up straight as her skin slid against his, releasing his hand and finding the arm of her mug. No sooner had she returned to her side of the bar than the cook issued an invitation to join him in the back. Casting a compulsory glance to Kevith like a child waiting for permission a smile lit her features when the older man gave his blessing. Without so much as a by-your-leave the woman hoisted herself onto the bar so her her hip rested on the surface before pulling her feet up and over, pivoting on the bartop until she was situated on Aidan's side.

"I've been waiting six seasons for him to let me come back here," she intoned with a grin. Pushing away from the edge of the wood she landed neatly on both feet, joining Aidan as she brushed her hands against the fabric of her slim trousers. "That's how y'know he's warmed to you. A dream come true."

Hadyn's smile was wide and affectionate, the corners of her eyes bearing traces of crows feet that would likely etch themselves permanently on her face in the coming years. But for now they showed in the briefest moments of her warmest smile, regard given to the man she'd come to know over the years of drunken exploits. He'd kept her safe and sane many a time and she was indebted to his kindness. Her unorthodox acrobatics garnered mutters and glances from the men but Hadyn entertained no interest, her attention on the two Stallion employees. Drawing the mug closer to herself now that she occupied the other side of the bar, Hadyn turned her gaze to Aidan.

"I'd be happy to take a look at your carvers," she stated before taking a hasty sip of ale. Swallowing she set the near empty vessel down before nodding to blue-eyed cook. "Lead an' I shall follow."

[Aidan Sutter]

Eyes watched with no lack of interest as the woman gracefully glided herself up and over the bar, the chef’s deference momentarily cast to the wayside as though ambushed by his own base desire. Aidan’s head tilted absently to the right to afford a better view, gaze trailing the length of her slender legs from ankle to hip, then up along gentle curves that ended upon a neck he found his lips aching to caress.

It would have been easy to blame the touch of weakness on the alcohol, but something about the woman was naturally alluring. And he found that more intoxicating than the drink lining his stomach.

Reality returned as a swift cuff to his conscience, snapped to attention once he realized hers was drawn upon him. ”Carvers…Right,” he muttered absentmindedly as his cheeks brushed dangerously close to an incarnadine hue.

Swallowing the knot lodged within his throat, Aidan led his guest into the kitchen while leaving the remainder of his mortification behind. The door creaked spryly upon its well worked hinges, revealing the interior of dull mud brick walls decorated with wooden cabinets and hanging ceramic cookware. To the right towered the hearth, the cobbled stone structure wider at its base and sloping up to the chimney that disappeared into the ceiling.

Molten embers from the noontide meal still clung desperately to smoldering life at its base, the air hinted with the scent of seasoned meat and crisped vegetables. The added warmth and stillness of the room made everything feel rather like a place to laze around for a spell, but Aidan often found himself doing anything but.

Stepping towards the center of the room where a dark wooden table housed a sizable array of utensils often employed in his craft, the chef stretched his hand around a solid block of maple with various oak handles protruding from its base. Sliding it along the table to a position that placed it prominently towards the edge, Aidan stepped back and gestured with his hands for Hadyn to appraise each one at her leisure.

“That’d be them. Try not to reprove me too much,” he smiled while failing to contain an airy laugh. “Hardly have the time or the ap’tude to sharpen them myself.”

Folding his arms across his chest so that his hands wouldn’t get too carried away in gesticulation, Aidan’s gaze sized the woman up with a keen bit of interest that he kept mostly reserved to a softly warm smile.

“So what’s a pretty charm like you doing as a blacksmith? Don’t get me wrong, y’look a sight more than capable. You just seem like the sort that could do…well anything really if that mouth of yours matches your ambition.”

x

[Hadyn Skellig]

His delayed response and warmed skin was not lost on her though there was no reason to remark upon it. The weaponsmith followed in attentive silence, brown eyes dancing merrily from location to location as she trailed Aidan. Sure she'd seen glimpses of the kitchen behind the door they passed through, but she'd certainly never been afforded the option - nay the opportunity to pass beyond the threshold. Hadyn was at best tolerable in the art of cooking (along with every other Sylirian not employed in hospitality) and thus it struck her just how many implements and tools were necessary for a plate of meat and mash.

A smile lingered pleasantly upon her lips as her guide took her further into the Stallion's heart. A quick glance ascertained the sizable hearth, nothing compared to the furnace of Sultros Blades, but an impressive space nonetheless. Her head tilted back as she gazed at the dangling pots like ivy hanging from tree branches. It seemed almost peaceful though she could well respect the chaos this place must entertain during the night. Returning her attention to the handsome blue-eyed cook she quickly dropped her gaze to the items in question.

Coming to stand near him, she drew a hand around the wooden hilt of the nearest knife, removing it from the maple slowly. She held it loosely in one palm, fingers finding a comfortable grip around the smoothed oak. It had a light lively feel, her eyes sweeping the length of it before turning it with careful fingers. The blade was situated comfortably in the hilt, the tang sturdy and secure. The edge itself was perhaps a little more dull than desired, the woman resting the tip of her finger against it to determine further. Setting the knife down on the table she was ready to move to the next when he spoke again. His comment caught her off guard, eyebrows raised over bemused eyes as she looked at him.

"Makin' a living," she replied following it with a relaxed smile and a casual shrug. "Same reason I s'ppose you're bustin' your balls in this place. For love of the art."

Another lingering grin as she returned to her examination. A second knife was pulled, this one for coring. Clearly they'd been made as a set, the cold iron blade and tang set in exactly the same manner, as well as the burnishing of the wood. Hadyn made her way through each knife, inspecting it for wear and tear as well as quality. Having finished, the woman set the last blade down and rested her hip against the table, arms crossing loosely over her chest.

"Decent blades," she informed him with a nod to the knives. "Could use a bit of steelin' though. The boning and carvin' knife have seen better days, but they'll last you a few seasons yet. Well made pieces, these."

The brunette paused to stare at the knives arranged before them. The edges reflected Aidan's countenance like a disjointed mirror.

"I'd be happy to bring you a honing steel on my next visit if y'aren't already in possession of one," Hadyn intoned as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. After a pause a simpering grin pulled the corners of her lips as her eyes narrowed, an expression of mock surprised upon her face as if she'd just discovered his ruse.

"Y'sure don't waste a lick o' time, do you, Aidan? Already taken me behind closed doors, stroked my ego and given me access to your tools. An' all before the evenin' bell!" Her visage softened a fraction to indicate teasing though her voice was still rife with sarcasm. Hadyn smiled once more, hoping the man wouldn't take offense or find her untoward. "If I didn't know better I'd wonder at your upbringing... But, come to think of it, y'haven't told me where you're from," she pointed an accusatory finger his way for emphasis with a smirk. "So perhaps whippin' out your blade at first opportunity is quite normal for you."