| Actual conversations at the Inn |
| Summary: | Jayana leaves, Drusilla, Samphire and Ciaran arrive. Conversations pick up. |
| Date: | 09/Oct/2012 |
| Related Logs: | Follows almost immediately on from Non-Conversations at the Inn |
| Players: |
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| Rockcliff Inn, Terrick's Roost |
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| The Rockcliff Inn is one of the better inns within the town and it shows with the well-lit interior and the relative cleanliness to the other locations in Terrick's Roost. The tables are polished with oils and the floor regularly swept. A set of booths towards a darker rear of the Inn's bottom floor, just beneath the staircase, are where whores generally socialize and eye prospects from when not waiting tables. Signs over the undersized bar area advertise prices for ales and wines as well as several different choices of food to be served at the small eating area by the bar or in the main open area in its comfortable seating. A door behind the bar leads to the kitchen and cellar while another near the staircase leads to a private room that would appear to be off-limits to the 'wait staff' except for food and drink service. |
| Tue Oct 09, 289 |
It's afternoon, although not late on yet. The weather outside is dreary at best, and while not actually heaving it down, it's cold and damp enough that there are a fair few people who've decided that the Inn is a better place to spend that afternoon than outside. Having just set an empty bowl on the bar, a bowl that had until recently contained stew, Mortimer stops to have a few words with the barman. Outside can wait a few minutes longer it seems.
Finding shelter on a day like today was important, especially one that offered some warmth the damp outside. The look of Drusilla shows that shes been caught in that damp weather for a bit of time and the black hair around her forehead is frizzing and wet. Making her way to the bar, she climbs onto a stool and rubs her upper arms up and down. When someone comes up to her, she orders: "A bowl of stew and some milk, iffin it ain’t no trouble."
It seems that there is nothing particularly of note that the barman feels the need to tell Mortimer, which is probably a good thing. Quiet is good. A glance side ways results in a brief nod to Drusilla once she's recognised before he turns back to his conversation. Or what there is of it anyway. A moment or two later though, it seems something occurs to him and he turns back to the new arrival, offering in greeting, "Mistress Black."
While she waits for her food and drink she glances around the room. Noting the familiar man that nods to her she returns with with a curve on one side of her lips into a smirk. Its only after he greets her that she says anything, "Hey, aren’t you that man that helped me that one day? Or tried to?" she asks, nodding her head as she does, cause she knows she is right. "You're the deputy sheriff or somethin’, right?"
Mortimer nods to confirm her suspicions, although it seems that he's not in an overly talkative mood as he replies simply, "and you're the blacksmith with the horseshoes." He remembers well enough, a useful trait given his job. "Still smithing?"
"Yep, That would be me." Drusilla laughs, "Smithing is about all I know how to do, so I have to keep doing it if I want to keep food in my belly." Speaking of food, she glances towards the kitchen doors briefly to see if her food was coming, it wasn’t yet and she turns back to look at Mortimer. "Even if business has been a bit slow as of about now."
On this damp and colder day, many have found refuge in the covering of the Inn. Within people is Mortimer and Drusilla who are sitting at the bar towards the rear of the room. Drusilla props her elbow on the bar counter and fists her hand so that her cheek has somewhere to rest.
Mortimer delays his departure a little longer now that Drusilla has answered in the affirmative. A few moments after her reply there's a slow nod on his part and he asks his next question. "Do armour?" He's feeling taciturn enough that he's not going to take it one step at a time rather than end up potentially wasting words. It's just been one of those days.
The door opens and a young commoner enters the warmth of the room. The pleasant cloud of the scent of fresh brewed ale, warm stew and drying boots makes Samphire take a deep breath, as she walks with quiet steps over to the bar.
Her sea-washed dress is made of maroon linen, fitting loosely to offer freedom of movement. Flaxen hair lay in a lazy braid over one of her shoulders. The most curious thing about her might be a silvery ring on the pointer of her right hand, assembled with a green gem in form of an apple, shining out of her rather plain attire. At one of her arms, she is carrying a small whicker basket, covered with a piece of white cloth.
Clearing her voice, she addresses one of the serving-women, apparently an experienced, older specimen with a round friendly face. "Mistress, I have the candles, you asked for.", she says, putting her basket on the bar itself. She only gets a sigh as an answer, for the women is loaded with several mugs of ale and a "Sorry dear, I guess this will have to wait until my husband returns. He will pay you. And I'm busy as the Smith himself. Sit for a bit, I'll make sure you get a cup of apple wine.", she says while passing by.
Shrugging, Samphire does as the woman says, skimming the room curiously for familiar faces. Seemingly she recognizes at least one of them, the sheriff she already met shortly. "Good day, master.", she offers a bit hesitantly, since they haven't even exchanged any names yet. "Good day, mistress.", she adds to the woman nearby.
"I do, yeah." Drusilla replies, "Amour, weapons, horseshoes, spikes, chains, pretty little things." her shoulder lifts into a shrug, "Anything that anyone asks me to do." Oh good! Food! A bowl of stew is set down in front of her. With all the needed thanks said to the serving man, she picks up a spoon and digs into it, scooping up a bite lifting it to her mouth. The warm food was enough to make the goose-pimpled skin smooth back out on her arms. Some bread is set down as an after thought and it gets picked up and torn in into pieces.
With the bustle of noise in the Inn, one couldn’t make out all the conversations around, but she'd heard something about candles and her head turned to look over her shoulder. Watching as the woman then approaches the bar, "Hello." a nod given to her. "Nice day to be sitting in an Inn, isn’t it?"
Along with everyone else present is Ciaran, sitting off at a booth by himself. Oddly enough able to have seem to gone undetected. Drinking ale and having a wide smile on his lips. Though he seems to have arrived not long ago and upon actually spotting the blacksmith in the area, he moves towards her. Seeing who she is with as well. Offering a small bow. "Hello, all of you." He offers. Studying people around. From the servants behind the bar to the people talking with the blacksmith. Though falling a bit silent as he continues to drink and study them. He was thinking of seeing Drusilla about helping her. Finding her here is just as good.
"Mistress," Mortimer says to the new arrival, seemingly feeling more need to partake in deep conversation with her than with Drusilla. She does get a polite nod though, it wouldn’t do to be actually rude. Turning back to Drusilla he gives her a long, thoughtful look before producing another question for her to answer or not as she chooses. "Expensive?" He's expecting to have to provide more details before a specific answer can be given, but if she turns answers with something along the lines of 'I produce only the highest quality work and my prices reflect that' then he'll have saved himself some time. Distracted briefly by Ciaran he gives the lad a brief nod while waiting for his answer.
The new arrival gets another, polite nod of the commoner, as he approaches the company. "Oh every day is quite nice to sit in an Inn.", Samphire answers. "Especially, when you have to, waiting to get paid for your work." With a small movement, she points at the basket full of candles. "But since I just lately arrived at this curious town, may I introduce myself? My name is Samphire Undyl, though soon some might call me 'Rivers' instead. I'm not quite sure what to think about this, yet.", she says with a dry smile. Again her lively eyes wander over the people around her.
Taking one of the torn pieces of bread, Drusilla dunks it into her stew a few times to soak up some of the juice and flavor the bread. "Nah, as it is I'm a woman that’s a blacksmith, I get a hard enough time getting men to accept that fact that I'm good at what I do. I cant be expensive too, or I'd never get any business." Single word questions, although short, cause curiosity. "Why? You know someone looking for some Amour?" The bread is popped into her mouth and chomped on thoroughly.
Mid chew is when she hears the voice of Ciaran and she turns in her stool a little to look over at him, nodding at the bow. "Well, if it isn’t my little helper." she drawls out. "Hiding out away from the dampness of the day too?" Picking up her milk she takes a longer drink to clear the breads way down her throat.
Over the rim of her milk she looks back to Samphire and when the cup is lowered Dru is grinning at her. "I don’t mind sitting around anywhere if it means I get paid at the end of it." Looking between Ciaran and the Samphire, she gestures a hand towards the bar. "You're welcome to sit here wait for your coin. I've been the new one about the square before, it ain’t always the fun that someone expects. I'm Drusilla Black. Nice to meet you Samphire." overly friendly, she uses the woman’s first name as if they'd been old friends.
Ciaran nods to Mortimer before offering a nod to the unknown candlemaker as well. Raising a brow at the conversation between deputy and blacksmith. Then looking to Samphire. "Hi Samphire. I'm Ciaran." He says, following Drusilla's lead perhaps, then shrugging about Rivers. Though for some reason having a hint of a smile. "Not sure how good it is to shout that out, though suppose it isn't something bad." Then his eyes travels back to the blacksmith. Grinning and nodding, "Something like that." He offers and studying them all. "Interrupting anything?" He asks, in a rather curious tone.
Mortimer gives Ciaran a brief shake of the head when he asks if he's interrupting, then turns back to Drusilla. Samphire is heard, and he'll no doubt remember the name in future, but for now he's concentrating on the conversation, such as it is, with the blacksmith. In possibly the longest sentence he's strung together in hours he says simply, "might be looking round for a helmet, if I can find one that won't cause the lad to starve." After all, his job might bring in a steady wage, but it's not a big one, and feeding his family comes first.
The unexpected warm response of the blacksmith make Samphire's eyebrows jump up in surprise. "I, uh… a pleasure to meet you too, Drusilla.", she answers with a little smirk, addressing her in the same quite intimate way, tasting the sound of that new name on her tongue for a heartbeat. "And Ciaran.", she adds, weighing the other name as well. Sitting down next to them, she turns to the latter.
"Ah, no worries, I'm quite sure about my decent birth and the story of that special river is well… Nobles can call me Grumpkin, or Snark, if they want to better not disagree with them, when you're not sure you can run faster than their guards."
Soon the cup of apple wine appears in front of her, even a warmed one to dispel the cold. With a content sigh, she leans back, turning to the blacksmith again. "A woman and a blacksmith? That's indeed a curious thing. But maybe you're the one I am looking for. My donkey has been an ill-humoured fellow, lately. Maybe his horse-shoes are somehow run down. If you could have a look at him, I will be most thankful… if you have finished the much nobler task of a helmet, of course.", she says with a mild glimpse at the sheriff.
"Its for you, then?" Drusilla asks when shes directed back to the conversation with Mortimer. "Did you have a specific design in mind for what you wanted?" Setting her milk down she grins at him, "I promise not to gauge you on price. I'll make it fair. I got no mind to piss off the deputy sheriff." a laugh comes out over her own words, "As much as I like making chains, I'd hardly want to be seen in them." since she is teasing him she throws a wink in his direction.
Tilting her head back, she shakes it at Ciaran, "Not interrupting. Just a friendly chat." Watching as Samphire takes her up on her offer to join them and gives her a nod of satisfaction. "Well, as it turns out Samphire, I /am/ a curious thing. Only fitting that my work matches myself." Then pauses to hear the rest of information about, nodding again, "Sure. I can do that. Do you have him over by the stables or do you have other arrangements for him? Donkeys are an Ass. In this circumstance its a stubborn ass. Another being living up to the name it bares."
Ciaran chuckles and shrugs. "Or you make some nobles call you what you want." He offers and smiles along with his words. Though he does study Mortimer about the helmet, sure that Drusilla is good enough with that, as for Samphire he sips from his ale and nods, "I could take a look at it if you want." He suggests with a rather bright smile, of course checking if it is okay with Drusilla. Since he is just an apprentice while she is a true blacksmith. Grinning to Drusilla about being a curious thing, "That you are, Dru." He offers and chuckles.
"Nothing noble about it," Mortimer replies to Samphire, "just necessity." Drusilla's first question is greeted with a nod, her second a shake of his head before he clarifies slightly, "just something basic, to do the job." He recognises the comment about chains to be a joke and gives her a slight nod to indicate such, but still seems in no mood to be able to reply in kind. Recognising that, and not wanting to end up being a downer on the conversations that seem to be springing up around him he gives one brief nod to the barman and then another to the blacksmith. The second gets an added "I'll talk to you about it later. I should be out and about."
Again Samphire smirks at Drusilla's little jest. "Oh, surely I called him that name often enough every time he refused to move his lovely backside in the direction I wanted him to." A small sip of her cup. "And of course, have a look, but be careful. He seems to have a huge affection towards eating ears. But if you're brave enough, I'd be most thankful for any help. ", she answers to Ciaran. "I keep him in a small stable near the mill. He doesn't appreciate company. A lovely fellow."
Mortimer had the major part of her attention, since after all he was possibly giving her a job to do. "Sure." Drusilla responds to the his desire to want to speak of the subject later. "I'll just need to measure you're head and get the final details from you." bending over her stew again, she takes her spoon and starts to eat once more. "This is really good stew." Dru tells everyone and no one in particular. A cloth napkin is raises her her lips and padded over, and looks over to Samphire and Ciaran, "He eats ears? like human ears?" she lifts a hand and tugs one of her own as a gesture. She makes no comment about Ciaran taking a look at the Donkey just shrugs her shoulder at him. If he wanted to, he could.
Ciaran nods to Samphire, letting his attention be on her as the other two talk business though, he does offer, "Do call for me if you need help with that helmet, Dru." He nods about the stew as well. Though listens and smile to Samphire as well. "I'll try to help as well as I can. We will see what happens." Noticing the shrug, "Thought I could help you out and ease the work." He explains, then it is back to Samphire. "Whenever you need me to, then I could take a look. If I can't help you, then we can get master Eden or Dru here."
A nod in confirmation to Dursilla and a quiet "Afternoon," to the other two and then Mortimer is off towards the door. He knows where to find the blacksmith if their paths don't cross coincidentally in the near future so he says no more about it. Pausing only in fact to collect his clock from where it's been trying to dry near the door.
"No worries, his affection towards human ears is yet an unfulfilled desire, though he certainly made huge efforts with a curious boy, the other day." Samphire responds to the blacksmith, stretching her legs cozily. "Seven, a barrel of strongwine must have been fallen into the fountains up here, for the people are incredibly helpful and welcoming. Tell me, where exactly do you get your water from?", she asks with the smirk still lingering around the corners of her mouth. "But sure, I'll be most thankful if someone could come over soon. I might not be able to pay you well, but if you're content with a few coppers, this should work out well.". Warming her small hands with the steaming cup, her green-grey eyes look friendly, while her tongue wanders from jests to more serious business.
"Afternoon.", she wishes her short farewell to the leaving sheriff.
The last of the stew is picked up with another piece of torn bread. Dragging it through the remaining bits in the bowl, before placing it in her mouth. "Will do, Ciaran. But I think I got this one, wont take more than a few days it hammer it out." she says around a mouthful of bread. Lifting a hand to Mortimer before he leaves and waves him off. The bowl is pushed toward the barkeep to take away when he passes over again, draining her milk cup and setting it next to the empty bowl.
Turning in her stool, getting more comfortable for conversation so that shes facing the other two now. Feet swining a little as they dangle from the high chair. "We get it from a tree," Dru smirks, "Just hang a left outside the Roost lane, third tree from the east and knock on the trunk. Fountain of life." continuing on with her jest, "Did wonders for me!" she hits her chest with the flat of her hand. "Dont look a day over three hundred, do I? After all that time, we tend to get really helpful and friendly about here."
Shaking her head she clearifies, "Nah, folks are friendly enough about this part. Went through a lot of rough spots here and so most like to stick together to help each other out. I personally just know what its like to be new. Friends are always nice to have around."
Ciaran nods to Mortimer. "Be well, deputy." He offers before looking over to those still around. "He needs to learn to calm down a bit." He says and shakes his head. Looking as relaxed as usual as he finishes his cup of ale.
"I do what I feel like really. Bad or good." He offers with a grin. Though Samphire's jesting question does get a chuckle. "I don't know, but it usually makes me pass out after a cup or tea." He jests in return. "I could take a look at it now. And really, no coin necessary. I'm just an apprentice. It is in such case if Ramon, master Eden that is, Or Dru wants it." He says and shrugs.
He nods about the helmet as it is mentioned as well. "Sounds fine then." He offers, though leaving the option for help out there for her. Then laughing at Drusilla's jesting. "I was wondering where all that endurance came from." He offers and shakes his head. Nodding about friends being nice to have around as well.
Still the surprise bides awhile in Samphire's mien, as neither the fireplace nor their words seem to lose any of their warmth. Warmth it also is, what sneaks into her cheeks, as she finishes her warmed wine. The little ring, that doesn't seem to fit with the rest of her attire wanders through her fingers, while she answers thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, rough spots… Right now I'm trying to make the house of the former local beekeeper inhabitable again, one of the hives is already resettled with bees. But I haven't managed to sleep there yet, though the roof seems solid the hint of bad memories still seems to linger between those walls, when the sun goes down. Times haven't been esy for this town, I guess. But the Stranger crossed many paths at the Riverlands, many indeed. We might be badly in need of that marvelous tree of yours.", she suggests quietly.
The serving-woman, who was earlier adressed by the girl of the candles returns busily. "Girl, you don't need to waste your time waiting in here, anymore. I got it. But if my husband asks you, you surely tell him, I gave you the coins.", she says handing her said coppers. "I will. Thank you. And thank you for the wine.", Samphire responds, packing them carefully into a leathery purse on her belt.
Turning to the other two, she says. "Well as it seems, I'm free to go. But the fellow in my stable has time and it is cold outside, I won't mind if you prefer to stay for a bit."
Ciaran listens, though seem to be silent for most part as of right now. Just leaning against the bar and watching Samphire as she speaks. Glancing to Drusilla as well, of course. Nodding about staying a bit. "Alright. Though I will meet you later." Inclining his head as well before looking to Drusilla. Seeing as she went quiet. Though for now he just refills his cup with ale. Paying for it as well.
Freya enters the Inn to get Master Bannon some more ale and drop off some wineskins. She sees Ciaran, Drusilla and Samphire and approaches them manacles still around her ankles. "Hello Mistress, Mistress and master. What are you all up to theis evening?"
DUMP: Checking for worth, Tym bites the database.
"My thanks again, Ciaran." Samphire answers. "And staying for a bit… ah yes.", she adds, leaning back again. Fumbling a few coins out of her purse again, she calls a servant. "An other one of this, please.", pointing at her cup. Brushing a flaxen wisp of hairs out of her face, a peaceful expression lays over her heart-shaped face. "An apprentice of a blacksmith?", she asks the man, then. "Were you born the son of a smith?"
As a new arrival approaches, Samphire turns curiously around. "Mistress Caul.", she greets, why her eyes wander over the signs that still indicate her inglorious acts of the past.
Ciaran nods to Samphire. "You're welcome Samphire." He offers before grinning at her words, "No. I am actually just starting anew." Not mentioning his skills with herbs. It would be too easy to figure him out like that after all. "I was lucky to find master Eden, as he took me in as his apprentice." As for Freya, he smiles and nods to her. "Freya. It is good to see you again. How are you feeling?" Searching for any injuries on her body.
The bliss of sweet idleness, doesn't seem to sojourn on young Samphire's fortune today Just as the desired cup of wine arrives, an old woman does, calling "Girl!", interrupting her conversation harshly. "You keep those bees? Better have a look at them, then. The millers boys try to smoke them out of that baskets of yours."
Immediatly, Samphire jumps up. "Seven! You haven't stopped them? My apologies. I have to take care of that.", she says rushing out swiftly like a silvery trout in the chortling rivers of the land.
Freya watches the retreating Samphire and beams at her. She then switches to Ciaran and Drusilla, "No new injuries - they are bored of me - or cowed by the Sheriff. What have you two been up to?"
Feet kicking slowly and boredly, Dru watches at Samphire leaves, lifting a hand and waving her fingers before she is completely gone. Looking back to Ciaran and then to Frey, "Not much of anything. Was speaking with the Deputy Sheriff a little bit ago. He might have a job for me. Wants a helmet." she shrugs her shoulder, "I'll have to measure it and the like."
Ciaran raises a brow as Samphire rushes out. Laughing and shaking his head. "Take care Samphire!" He calls after her before looking to Freya. As for her words, he grins a bit. He might not have done much, other than perhaps having forced them to the crapper for a long time or so. Not able to do too much without risking himself. Or more importantly, his daugther. "Just been taking care of the usual business." And also wondering when Muirenn will be back, as she had requested for his skills. Though he can't mention that really. And he can't travel to Heronhurst at the moment either. "I will be going to help Sammy girl, who left, with her donkey. How about you, Freya?"
Freya looks to Drusilla - "You mean Master Mortimer? He used to know my family and myself back in Mosedale. A village hereabouts. Probably why he doesn't like me all that much." Freya looks at Ciaran next, "Charitable of you." After a shrug Freya sayS "I'm doing the same old thing. Leatherworking and plotting to put a monkey on the Throne of Dorne."
Drusilla nods at Freya, "Yep, the very one." confirming who she was talking about. "You knew him before?" attention spiking at that, "He seemed a little…down, today. He kept a conversation going about me making him a helmet with just single word questions." she blows out a breath slowly, "Its a good thing I like to talk."
Ciaran raises a brow about having known Mortimer before, though not more than so. As for being charitable, he snorts. "Am I not always?" He asks and smirks, offering a wink as well. Then nodding to Drusilla's words as well. Chuckling and looking between the two women.
Freya nods to Drusilla, "Yes in Mosedale. he hated my family and me. Granted we were criminals and he couldn't prove we'd done anything wrong - so he must have been frustrated." Freya cants her head funnily at Ciaran, "I'm not being drawn into discussing your virtues Master." She flirts. I had best be going.
