[Rearing Stallion] Beer and New Faces [Rizima, Open]

[Ash'eny]

Time Stamp: Day 30 of Summer, 510 AV
Location: Rearing Stallion

Musty, that's what the smell was, or not a smell in particular, but a feeling that had captured Ash'eny. He had come into the tavern, only a few chimes ago he was sleeping, but now it was a headache. Last night he had fun, he had a bit more beer than he should have, and this morning he was paying for it, which in itself wasn't fair since he already paid for the beer with Mizas from his pocket. Fortunately for the thief and beggar, Ash'eny, the tavern was completely empty, excluding the employees of the place, who began to know Ash'eny by his appearance, and a single soul on the other side of the room, snoring obnoxiously in a drunken stupor, face plastered to his table. Ash'eny thought that the drunk looked foolish, yet if he was to see himself last night, he probably was pretty petching close in resemblance. Ash'eny grunted as he toyed with his cloak, it was something he always wore, never took off. Why? He always wore his leather armor underneath, black, was useful for breaking into houses at night, though it had been a while since he did something like that, days at least. Ash'eny gave up, the clothing was bothersome, but he'd deal with it for now, and resorted to running his four fingered left hand through his short brown curly hair, which was comforting in itself for some reason. A simple action pleased him. Ash'eny closed his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table in front of him, and his chin upon his open palm. He felt like he could possibly sleep some more, in fact, he wished it. Anything to help the time pass with this headache (hangover) was a beautiful feeling. "Sir? Can I get you anything? Sir?" Slowly the eyelids peeled back, once again cracking his eyes open and peering as the waitress, he muttered something that sounded like some foreign language to him, but she obviously heard and understood, because she nodded and walked off. Ash'eny blinked once or twice, staring directly at her rear as she moved. She was a younger woman, probably working here to help out her family, perhaps she was married. She wasn't exactly stunning in beauty, but she was good looking, better than most in Syliras. But that didn't matter, Ash'eny thought as he pulled his gaze away and once again closed his eyes. He was single, sure, but that didn't give him excuse to fondle people with his eyes. He was better than that. Well, maybe. The previous day might have been different, he remembered a majority of the day, but since he was steadily drinking through it, he could have had a few details in behavior altered than what he believed to have happened. He shrugged his shoulders, almost automatically as he sat there, as if he had responded to some question he was asked, but didn't know the answer to. "What am I doing here?" It was a simple question, but one that often he asked. What was he doing, not specifically in the tavern, but in general. What was his goal, his purpose, his motivation? Really, he had none he could think of. No lover, never had one. No job, never had one, excluding theft and petty crime if they count. No family he cared about. No true, deep, life-long friends. Ash'eny really had no value to the world, and he had no reason to be where he was. But even worse, he had no reason not to be doing nothing.

[Rizima Darkwyr]

Rizima stared at the patrons of the tavern, mostly uninterested; yet, her need to be constantly disciplined forbade her from sitting the whole time she was on guard, which could range from five hours to ten. This practice satisfied her compulsion and was exactly why she was uninterested. While the waitresses could play cards, talk amongst themselves, or simply sit silently, Rizima could not. She felt in the deepest part of her heart that she must stand resolutely in her corner and watch. Watching, that’s exactly what she had to do. Not only was it what she had to do, but it was the only thing she could do. That means she quickly assessed the situation and stared straight at the only sense of discomfort and danger. Ash'eny, he was called, and she had already heard of the great party that had taken place the night before which included him in the lot. This excessive amount of drinking from the day before, and his premature arrival in the Tavern suggested a lot about his character. Not only that, but he wore shabby clothes, and as Rizima put it in her own little way, “Was shifty looking”. Maybe it was her upbringing , being from a wealthy family, or maybe it was some inner issue of paranoia that made her completely focus on him. He sat there, head in hands, or face on the table seeming to be completely tired and miserable, yet alert. Whatever he was doing, or was planning to do, gave cause to Rizima to simply keep staring. Every so often he shifted his weight, moving in what would be a completely normal way for anyone in any other situation besides this one of complete uneventful boredom. While Rizima herself looked nothing more than a gruff, Amazonian woman in brown, she somehow felt that she radiated a clear conscience and integrity. Her double standard came in place when she felt that he must be shifty, simply because he was wearing a patched brown cloak and liked to drink early in the morning. Although this assumption wasn’t entirely held as truth by Rizima, she still felt like it was her duty to watch him since the only other patron was completely inebriated. This being so, the whole time that he had been inside the tavern since the very moment he had entered, she had stared quietly at him. She wasn’t simply watching him broadly, but she stared at him with an incredibly intense expression that betrayed her. She was completely conspicuous. While she stared at him she fingered her pockets and thought up stories of his life. Maybe he was just poor and wanted to forget an old girlfriend. Maybe instead of being poor he was secretly a rich man disguised to get out of his life. Her mind wandered to such things she had read in books back when she was younger, silliness and fairytales. Her eyes continued staring even though her mind wandered, and she kept at least half her mind on the man, because otherwise she would be neglecting her duty. Talk to him. This thought simply accosted her mind and with it she also realized that she had not spoken to anyone in a long time. Every day she simply showed up at the tavern, stood and left after her shift. Even when paid she rarely said anything. This behavior was accepted after a year of working in the same tavern, but a piece of Rizima wanted to speak to this stranger and get to know his true threat level. This piece of her was quickly extinguished and forgotten. More silliness. Instead she stared and blindly thought that he had no idea she suspected him of absolutely everything, and nothing at the same time.

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny dark brown rimmed eyes slowly faded again, closing naturally as an early morning snooze just about snagged him. A faint smile coiled itself snuggly across his face as the comforting, approaching sleep was apparent. But of course it was interrupted, once again by the young waitress whom Ash'eny was better than to gaze upon (or anatomical parts unique to the female portion of the population, that is). He awakened with a slight jolt, a simple small jump rattling through his body and relaying a quick chill through his spine. The waitress saw this, fought away a smile, apparently it was a little humorous to her, and placed a large bowl in front of Ash'eny, and beside it a small plate with a small loaf of bread and a small portion of cheese, and beyond that, a glass of water. Ash'eny, almost as if he was swallowed up in some sleepy stupor, nodded and mouthed a polite 'thank you', but for some reason, was unable to speak above a weak whisper. It didn't really matter though as the woman was already walking away now, and towards the man passed out at the bar in fact. She probably meant to wake the man up and ask him to leave, but Ash'eny had a hunch he was passed out, and would not easily be awoken. Perhaps he had been there. It seemed familiar at least. Ash'eny caught himself once again staring at the girl's butt, and as soon as he realized this, he took his hand and gave himself a vicious pinching at the cheek. Once could be forgiven, twice required punishment, regardless of how childish said punishment was. He hissed at himself quietly (he was either obviously unaware that he was being watched at all, or for those who might have been very paranoid, was a great actor at pretending not to notice he was being eyed by a hawk) and peered into his newly acquired bowl, of what appeared to be potato soup with some green vegetable flakes in it. He dipped his finger in, pulled it out and stuck the finger in his mouth, nodded lightly afterwards. He would have preferred a little seasoning, but it would settle nicely. He picked up the bread to begin with and took a solid bite out of it. t wasn't until he actually began eating that he realized he was quite hungry. He probably, as some point in the night, vomited just about everything he has consumed in the entirety of one day, that or when he had consumed a little too much alcohol, he decided that he could solve his problem of hunger with more beer. In hindsight, being so careless was probably a bad idea, at least he was in one piece, has no obvious injuries or pains, and had all his money in tact. He survived the day, and it was enjoyed, so there wasn't a complaint from him, well, until now at least. He could do without the headaches. After a few chimes of eating his soup, which he was forced to do slowly after finding out from the first careless bite that it was only a few degrees below 'burn-through-your-entire-mouth' scalding hot. Eat bite from then on was a series of movements, a simple method. Scoop, lift, exhale onto spoon, test with top of tongue (which had lost its ability to recognize taste by this point, foolish first bites), repeat step three or consume spoonful, retract emptied spoon from mouth (a very important part as one might be inclined to swallowing the silverware), return spoon to bowl, repeat process. Slowly but surely Ash'eny made progress through his bowl of potato soup, and to his pleasure he only had to pull out a single fly from it (which didn't bother him, tavern food wasn't notorious for being 'fine dining' anyway). Anyway, after a few chimes, perhaps five minutes, Ash'eny noticed a third 'patron' in the tavern, and when he noticed her glaring at him as if trying to burn holes straight through his eyes, he choked, sending a scalding hot potato chunk straight down his throat and into his gut, burning just about every square millimeter on the way down. "Petch!" Ash'eny cursed himself in a quiet whisper as he quickly reached for his glass of water, which he was now very fortunate for having with him. Within seconds, half the glass was inhaled and he was suffering not from a burning throat anymore. Much better. Ash'eny sat back in his chair a moment and panted lightly, as if he was literally fighting for his life for several minutes, a ridiculous thought for sure. Slowly his eyes returned to the woman that startled him, and to his surprise she was freaking huge! Ash'eny was quick to divert his gaze, returning to his bowl of soup and half eaten loaf of bread, the woman was making him very uncomfortable to say the least. Not to mention she almost burned a hole through his head with her fiery stare. Ash'eny's story wasn't exactly any of those Rizima made up for him. He had no girlfriend, he wasn't even poor. Sure he looked like it, and that was his point, but he wasn't particularly wealthy either. He had enough to practically live at the tavern, which should have been an alert that he wasn't your typical homeless man (though he was officially homeless). Ash'eny was a beggar, so he needed to look like one, and he was a thief, so he needed to conceal his face when he worked, the reversible cloak served both of those purposes. Today though, he was just another patron at the tavern, not even for drinks, just for breakfast and he would be gone. What he would do next, he had no idea, but it would either be boring, or exciting (and probably illegal), those were usually the only two options right? Sometimes he thought so.

[Rizima Darkwyr]

As he coughed and cursed Rizima stared. And when he returned her gaze she saw interest in his eyes, though he obviously didn’t want to come up to her. That had always been a subject that confused Rizima immensely. Sure, she was large, and she knew it but that had never meant she was going to hurt anyone. In fact she behaved the exact opposite unless given a reason. Her aspiration happened to be that one day she’d join the knighthood; this caused her to adhere to their ethics. Protect the weak, fight for their rights, excreta. Obviously others didn’t have her oblivious approach to her large bulk. Someone else might even attempt to stare less obviously, yet not Rizima. She wasn’t known for being brilliant, nor cunning; instead Rizima bore naivety and her less than average intellect. These shortcomings do not mean that she has ever been unable to think; contrary, only that she is able to understand, behave and respond much like anyone else but with a touch of ignorance. Her continual staring began to hurt her eyes which she didn’t blink quite as much as she should have. Rough hands appeared from within her cloak, unbuttoned the few top buttons and rubbed her eyes. They were cleared soon enough and she continued to stare intently. Her arms hung by her side with her cloak hanging from her shoulders, revealing that she wasn’t trying to hide anything and her clothes beneath that were entirely average and mundane. Brown pants, stained slightly from dust, a darker doublet much the same. Mundane. That is, she was mundane except for her size. This man seemed to be sitting still once more with a face revealing nothing. I wonder about you, sir, I wonder about you because I have no books to read. Nothing but curiosity every day until I am a knight then I will protect someone and change the world Rizima was a patient person but she found herself thinking that if she made an amusing face at him he was sure to miss it. Of course this was juvenile and unlike her usual stoic behavior but after hours of standing there she decided that maybe this would be fun. Everyone else had fun once in a while...Didn’t they? Why couldn’t she? This logic brought her to raising her eyebrow as high as she could, waiting for five seconds, and then returning it to its usual height. He had not seemed to notice, so after fifteen or so minutes had gone by she repeated. When he had not seemed to notice this frivolous goofing she gave a slightly crooked grin. Amused she just continued to watch him. What else was there to do but wait another fifteen minutes and try her idiocy again? Her lips twitched with delight. Rizima began waiting again with this time she found that she wasn’t indifferent to her surroundings and was even still amused. Making faces had turned out to be quite entertaining for her at a job that had absolutely nothing to do until a fight broke out or the end of the day. Maybe I will try this again later. It might be foolish and silly but I find myself more studious and patient with a moment of ridiculousness. After these thoughts her mind wandered again and came upon the idea of when her shift ended. Only an hour or so and she could go shopping. She was out of food once more and was even curious about getting herself something nicer to wear. With a sigh she banished all thoughts of shopping. Such femininity in herself usually wasn’t tolerated anyway, not even within the confines of her mind That is in an hour, not now, time to focus Rizima. The staring commenced once more, yet more open and curious then before.

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny spent the next several chimes trying to finished his soup in peace, swallow his bread so that he didn't choke, and perhaps even enjoy a bit of the meal, but the woman, who looked as tall as one of those Akalak men in Ash'eny's opinion, was dedicated. She was staring him down, but it wasn't the same fierce glares that a mother gives a child while she actually watched him commit the offense, now she was... raising her eyebrows? No, one at a time, but she felt the need to do this several times over, and while he was eating! The nerve. Never-the-less, Ash'eny was going to finish his meal, whether the twelve foot stranger sat there all day in staring, wicked or comical did not matter. 'Fine then woman! Stare at me all you like, we'll see if your futile attempts to impede my meal consumption. Bring your worst glares from the very heart of Ivak if you must, for I will not falter!' Ash'eny, of course didn't speak, but thought to himself as he took another spoonful of soup, and very aggressively, shoved the broth into his mouth and swallowed, followed swiftly by a second, third, and fourth. A gulp of water, a vicious tearing of his bread, and returning to the soup. One, two, three gulps. Ash'eny noticed that, within a few chimes, his meal was decimated, destroyed, as if some magic cast a warp hole to simply pull his soup into oblivion, yet miraculously left the bowl, spoon, plate, and glass cup. He stared in awe into his emptied bowl, with a realization that his stomach was quite full. Ash'eny piled his dishes upon and inside each other as the young waitress made her third visit, took his dishes, and left. Ash'eny this time did not stare at her butt as she wandered off, but instead his gaze was drawn to the Akalak-sized woman, who he caught this time raising her single brow at him and grinning ridiculously. Ash'eny sat there a moment, locked eyes with her, and pondered some more. It was fairly obvious that Ash'eny had no idea how to respond to this sort of attention. He could always leave, his business with the rearing stallion had come to an end, but for some reason, that felt like a cowardly resignation, and he couldn't allow that could he? Yes, he could, if the situation was more dangerous or possibly lethal, for now, he was alright. He stood up slowly and made a straight path towards Rizima's corner, only moving from his original trajectory to avoid a tragic collision with a table, and after that, his trajectory repaired itself. As he neared the tall woman, he realized his step was slowing and goosebumps were beginning to rise up across his skin. He was moving about as far away from the exit, what a convenient location for the enormous woman to be located. If she were to go berserk, or even be drawing him in to wail on him, chances are he'd have no chance in escaping. And Ash'eny has had more than his desired share of psychos in his life. If she was here to sever another finger from his hand, he might just go Zith-Shyke (bat-shit). He stopped, a few feet from Rizima and continued to watch her, as if expecting her to jump up, beat him to a pulp, and spit on his crumpled wounded body. He, however, did not more, did not speak. Just stood in front of her for several seconds, waiting for her to threaten him so that he could register the danger in the situation and run like a little coward.

[Rizima Darkwyr]

Rizima noticed that he began to eat faster, faster and suddenly he realized that his food was gone. The incredulous look on his face was ridiculous and he stared at his bowl like he had been severely betrayed before stacking them and allowing the waitress to remove them from his sight. Then he shifted his attention to Rizima. Her grin faded. He moved towards her purposefully, eyes intent upon her and she felt herself feeling shyer and less curious. Oh do go away! What am I to say to you stranger? How am I to deal with you? I will only bungle my words and look the idiot, yet you must come here and plague me with the need to speak and the fear of being noticed. Wishing she could disappear Rizima stood as still as she was able and waited like she waited for everything else, with a completely blank face that masked her feelings. He stopped himself right in front of her, not five feet away, and seemed to be waiting for her to do something. Rizima thought maybe there was fear in his eyes and she wondered if she should be afraid also. Nothing conspired between them for minutes as Rizima decided on what to say, something that wouldn’t sound entirely stupid and wouldn’t make him pursue her conversation for very long. Uncomfortably she began. “Hello.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and held a tentative quality to it. Rizima deeply prayed to her Goddess and her God that he wouldn’t simply hate her for the fear in her voice. Since when are knights afraid of talking! Buck up girl! You wouldn’t be afraid if he was trying to beat you in a fight, so stand tall now! “Erm..Hello.” She tried again, slightly louder. “C-can I help you ser?” There, that was it. Now she didn’t have to say anything until he decided what he needed. Maybe he just wanted to find the restroom, or ask how much the rooms cost per night. As Rizima realized she knew not how much it would cost him she wished that he might want the rest room so she would know the answer immediately. Her eyes roamed across him, he was thin and rather regular as far as she could tell. He had dark brown hair that was just a tad bit lighter then hers, with eyes that were a deep hazel. Rizima’s own were blue with flecks of separate colors in them, motley as far as she supposed. His skin was as tan as hers, but he seemed to be more muscle then she was. Sizing him up made her realize that if she had been his own height yet the same weight she was now, she would have lost a fight. Being as short as him would make her lose her greatest leverage, literally, her height. That must change his fighting style very much. Rizima wondered if he thought she was too tall, everyone seemed too. Maybe they just feel insecure when they realize how much shorter they are then you. Dear Rizi wouldn’t you feel the same now that you are used to being the tallest? Her eyes roamed once more, deciding as always. They finally rested on the decision that he wasn’t going to hurt her unless she hurt him. He had to be a better person then she originally imagined in her moments of boredom and paranoia.

[Ash'eny]

Whatever intentions Ash'eny had when he originally came over to Rizima were lost now, he didn't know what he was going to do, how the situation was going to unfold, or if he was even supposed to be here. There was one thing though, he was curious as to why she was watching him so diligently. Rizima, betrayed by her soft voice in contrast to large stature, almost sounded as intimidated as Ash'eny felt, which he couldn't figure why. He had a knife at his side, but he usually forgot that it even existed to be honest, sometimes he went days and days before even remembering he had the weapon there. Surely she could beat him easily. Ash'eny made up his mind to extend his hand outwards, offering a greeting shake. He smirked lightly, deciding (mainly because of the weak 'hello') she was not going to kill him, and quickly his fear dissipated from him. "Hello, I'm Ash'eny. Why were you watching me so intently?" Ash'eny spoke quickly, before even allowing time for Rizima to introduce herself in return, he was interrogating her. It was a simple question, and there really wasn't much about him that was meant to be threatening, he was smiling, he had no visible weaponry, and he was, only minutes ago, nearly dying on his own food when she surprised him. Certainly she wouldn't find much of a threat in him, just a beggar after all. "I couldn't help but notice that every time I looked up, you were glaring or... lifting an eyebrow towards me." The way Ash'eny asked obviously meant that he didn't understand the eyebrow motion, he himself was unable to lift a single eyebrow (but he was damn good at raising both) and rarely saw the thing really. The point of it escaped him. In hindsight, Ash'eny probably seemed a little rude, perhaps vocally aggressive, but he had somehow taken a small pinch on his pride with her constant staring, probably because he was embarrassed that he was caught choking and burning himself with the notorious potato soup. Perhaps it was instead just being stared at for such a long time that threw him off that he had to 'solve the mystery' of the Behemoth Woman of the Rearing Stallion, which wasn't in itself an interesting title. Regardless, Ash'eny was being a little more aggressive, though not particularly hostile, as he spoke and moved. It was unintentional, but just happened.

[Rizima Darkwyr]

He was straight to the point, exactly what he wanted to know all in a few precious seconds. The time to reply was now, but her disobedient lips would not move just yet. She held them pressed closed, thinking. They seemed to want to savor her words before they would let her speak them, and she was all too ready to escape this questioning. His eyes seemed locked onto hers. Hazel and blue, locked until she looked away. Down to her feet and then slowly, as if remembering her pride, back to his face. She looked down on him as she had often seen her mother do, as stoic as her father had ever been. This was the face she presented as she finally forced herself to speak. “I was curious of you. I must protect.” This is where she stopped. There was no stammer now, just pride. She protected this tavern. With an arm she gestured around her, explaining with that just what exactly she protected. Unsure of if he understood her she waited and when he said nothing for a few seconds she continued. It was obviously still her turn to speak. “I work here. It’s…” She stopped, tasting the words again before continuing, “Empty usually at this time…” Again she paused, as if asking him to continue talking, yet he seemed to want more information before she was allowed to be quiet. He just looked at her anxiously, waiting. Very well “I’m Rizima.” And she reached out and grasped his hand as tight as any man would, and shook it just as sternly. Maybe he would leave now. Maybe he would try to taunt her like some of the people who came into the bar. There was even a chance that he might make some lewd remark that a few had been brave enough to say. His intentions were a mystery and his face gave nothing away. Rizima knew that her face was still in its stony, empty expression. People respected that facade; some simply ignored it for being dull. She, well…She just wanted to be alone. You’re much safer when you’re alone.

[Blackthawne]

The door to the Rearing Stallion swung open once again at this point, and another darkly garbed man entered. This one wore black riding boots, and a black leather coat which extended to shortly below his belt buckle, revealing his leather, armor reinforced pants. A sword also hung from his hip in a simple black scabbard. On this occassion, the man had opted out of revealing his face, keeping his black fur hood flicked upwards, casting a shadow over his features, though his firey red fring was hard to ignore. He seemed a little over six feet in height, maybe 6 and 2 inches all in all. Casting his gaze around the room for a few moments, he took note of the woman, and the man in similar garb to himself, though, he noted, his own clothing seemed more well kept than the other mans. With a quiet grunt, Blackthawne made his way over to a table, and flipped his hood down to his shoulders to reveal his medium length, spiked red hair. "What can I get for you, sir?" A hint of a smile crept onto his face as he thought for a moment, and then merely ordered a bowl of potato soup... He was starving, and anything would cure his hunger right now. The looks of the woman didn't even register with him, his mind was far from flirting and debauchery today... He'd been in Syliras two weeks now, and was starting to draw a blank on what to do next. With a sigh he tugged his black leather gloves from his hands, set them to one side and leaned back in his seat, waiting for his food to arrive. He had to figure out his next move before he left this place, he was certain of that.

((Hope you dont mind me joining, the open part means its open for everyone too, right?))

[Ash'eny]

[[Of course you can join. Open is open to all!]]

Ash'eny shook her hand, not surprised to find quite a firm grasp, either she was naturally strong or was trying to impress him. Either way, it made him feel a little nervous. Then, slowly, she explained her reasoning. She was a new guard of the tavern, and of all people she thought Ash'eny was going to cause trouble. The beggar released her hand and became victim to rather powerful chuckling as he imagined it. He himself, a fierce villain here to ruin the lives of the Ex-Syliran Knight and Tavern Owner! He knew it was rude to laugh at her like this, and he tried to contain himself, but he just couldn't not this time. "And you thought I was going to cause trouble? Oh, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't laugh like that. It's just, this whole time I thought you were trying to cause trouble with me. I nearly soiled myself you gave me such a start! I'm sorry, Rizima you said? I hope it's not a disappointment, but I have no intention of doing anything immoral, indecent, or unlawful in this place. The 'Stallion' is almost a home to me. Of all people in here, I'd suggest that man over someone like myself." As Ash'eny turned to point at the drunk who was undoubtedly passed out still from an alcoholic binge, though found his target blocked by a man, a new comer in the morning, and he was obviously wearing a sword at his side. Ash'eny's smile faded as he gazed at Blackthawne. He did not recognize the man, which always made him wonder as to why he would be armed in Syliras. That would attract the attention of the knights, which was never a good thing. They obeyed the law nearly perfectly, but were as suspicious as they came. "Who the shyke is that? I'm sorry Rizima, I think I lost my train of thought." Ash'eny shook his head a little and offered his hand once again to shake, more friendly and innocent this time. "Have I convinced you that I mean no harm here? If it would make you more comfortable, I can leave, my business here is done anyhow." Ash'eny grinned, he felt that he and Rizima were probably at least understanding of each other now, he hoped since he still believed she could easily destroy him.