| Catching Up And Making Connections |
| Summary: | Anais and Tiaryn meet in the inn, which has a bit of a drunk problem, and Anais meets some knights in need of work. |
| Date: | 07/05/2012 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Crane's Crossing Inn — Stonebridge |
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| While Crane's Crossing is technically an Inn, it caters to the traveling nobility almost exclusively. The floors around the hearth are finely crafted stonework, as are the slate blocks that the firepit is constructed of. The rest of the floor is done in stained oak that matches the few long tables and the chairs. The rest of the main room is furnished with plush couches and seating to entice visitors to delay their leave. A full service kitchen provides food of all kinds as well as high quality ales and wines. Also available are several women to provide hospitality to the lonely or those in need, the quality of them to be beaten by but a few in the Riverlands. A hallway near the kitchen leads off to the rear of the building and several up-scale rooms. |
| May 7, 289 |
Tia is seated at a table, on the comfiest chair that Liss could scare up. The inn is fairly busy, though Tia's a little off to one side, so as not to be jostled by anyone coming by. Pariston has just shown up to visit, as Jacob and Bethy are currently on duty taking care of Tia. Lunch has been served, with hot soothing tea, mutton, fresh bread and so forth. Tia shifts a bit on her seat, as Pariston checks in on the other two. They return his smile and Jacob says, "All is well, thank you. D'ja find anything worth huntin'?" Bethy, always more dour, simply nods her head and stay silent. Tia turns to Paris at that comment. "Or did you find a nice place to go wander in the woods at all? That's safe? Or any sign of the bandits?"
Pariston smiles at Liss as he sees her cheeks turning a bit pink, though does not say anything. Ears caught by Jacob's words and then Tiaryn's. "Nope, didn't find anything to hunt. And didn't really go that far, unfamiliar lands and all that. Was hoping for rabbit or something along those lines." He sighs and shrugs before grinning. "I did have some ale with me though, found a cozy spot to drink some when I needed rest." He tells them in a rather light and playful way. He leans back a bit as he relaxes, "M'lady, if there is anything you might need feel free to ask me to get it for you." He tells her before taking a sip from his cup of ale.
Liss returns with a basket of fresh bread, still warm from the oven, the smell redolent even over the other pleasant food smells in the room. She sets the bread down on the table within easy reach of Tiaryn and bobs another of her little curtseys. "Is there anything I can get for you, Master?" she asks Pariston, smiling hopefully at him. "We have some very nice cold mutton, and some early strawberries, and we just got in a cask of olives from the south…" she offers.
"See if you hear anything interesting?" Anais suggests to one of her guards as she steps inside the inn, followed by another guard and a handmaid, as always. She may be a married woman now, but as unsettled as things are, sometimes it's just best to be on the safe side. She pauses once inside, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light, before catching sight of Tiaryn, a warm smile curving. "Tia," she calls over, weaving her way through tables toward the other woman. "I thought someone said you were in here."
Lunchtime, and Tia has managed to make her way down from her room. She's settled in a relatively comfy chair, with guard and maid. And Pariston, as a visitor. The table has lunch served, ale and tea as options, thanks to the ever efficient Liss. So far as it goes, other than the stiffness in her movements, there are only two things possibly visible right now - the goose egg at the back of her head and a small barely visible bruise on her neck that likely was one of the reasons she was whining about breathing during the commotion caused by Bad Horse. "Thank you, Liss. You are a wonder. And Vis, please do order if you wish - and you are welcome to have some here." Because she's not planning to waste food, if she can help it. Bethy gladly goes quiet, Jacob nods to Vis and then starts to stuffing his face. Tia turns as she hears another voice she recognizes. "Lady Anais! Please pull up a seat and join us. The inn is rather crowded and busy. I fear Liss will have her hands full serving everyone. Can we interest you in tea, ale or lunch? Or all three?"
Pariston smiles and nods to Tia, then looking to Liss, "I'm fine, for now." He tells her and offers a charming smile. He does fall silent and keep out of the way when Anais comes though. Not reaching for food at the moment, letting the others go first. A smile and bow of his head is offered to Anais though, even if she might not look in his direction. Continue to sip from his cup for now.
Liss nods, her hopeful smile receding into a generally pleasant server blandness. She bobs a little curtsy to Anais, and scurries to fetch more chairs for the lady and her entourage. As she holds the chair for her, she murmurs, "May I fetch you some ale, my lady? Or some tea?" to Anais.
The entry way to the Crane's Crossing Inn opens shortly after Anais' arrival, allowing another figure to enter in from outside, that of Aleister Charlton. Once the door has closed behind him, there's a flit of his eyes around the room before he's beginning to make his way off towards a table to one side. It's along that path that he spots the gathering of people off to one side and recognizing a couple of them, he begins to angle over in the direction of Tia, Pariston and Anais. "My ladies," comes to be offered to Tia and Anais, along with an incline of his head, while Pariston earns a, "Master," and Liss receives a, "Miss."
"Any of the above sound lovely," Anais declares with a laugh at Tiaryn's question, flashing a smile to Pariston. "Good afternoon, ser," she greets with a dip of her chin, pausing by a chair next to Tiaryn when Liss brings it over. "I hope you don't mind if I join you? Ah, thank you," she adds to Liss, smile easy. "I'll just have whatever's being served at the table, thank you. Lord Charlton," she continues when Aleister approaches, seamless. "You're looking well."
Tia inclines her head as Aleister arrives. "Lord Aleister," she greets him with a smile. "Please do excuse my not rising to greet you, but I've unfortunately managed to injure my knee slightly, and have been instructed to rest it," she admits. Yes, there is some nugget of truth in the crazy rumours flying about Stonebridge. Or at least some of them. "Don't worry, Liss, I'm sure we shall be ordering more," Tia adds, since it looks like the barmaid isn't getting too many additions to her order at the moment. "Of course you are more than welcome to join us, Lady Anais. And Lord Aleister as well, if you would like. The bread is so fresh it is still warm," she adds, as a lure of sorts.
Pariston smiles and nods to Anais, "Lady Anais." He offers, lucky that he heard Tiaryn say it moments earlier. "Though I am no knight." He tells her, just to clearify. Though soon he does notice Aleister approaching, offering a bow of his head to the man as well. "Lord Charlton." He offers before going silent again. Letting the nobles talk while he scans the area and looks at whatever catches his interest. One ear on the nobles conversation though.
Liss finishes seating Anais, and glances up to see Aleister approaching. She lowers her dark lashes and bobs a demure little curtsy. "My lord." she murmurs in greeting. She moves to fetch him a chair as well, before moving off towards the kitchen, only to return with a tray laden with plates of cheese, olives, tart spring strawberries, various types of cheese, spiced cold mutton and more bread, and a large jug of ale balanced on her hip. She weaves her way through the now-slowing lunch crowd, and begins to pour ale and tea for everyone, and place the platters of food within easy reach. She then straightens, and examines the table with a critical eye before spinning over to the sideboard to gather a good supply of clean folded napkins, which she also distributes, and some serving spoons and forks.
"Times are tough." comes from a man at a table near to the hallway kitchen. He's hunched over onto the table and thumping his head lightly against the top. Thump. Thump. Thump. His head picks up for a moment as he looks around the establishment with a bit of a pursing of his lips. In one hand is a cup, rather small but still a cup. It looks to have been made out of a piece of horn and the bottom done up with a piece of wood. So it's definitely a cheap cup too… and small. His eyes flick around looking for lady going around with a bucket or mug or something that can fill up the 'broken' cup in his hand.
He holds up his cup, as if trying to summon over the- "Wench! Ale, please!" His cup is broken after all, there's a hole in the top that all the ale keeps emptying out of.
"And feel so as well, Lady Terrick. And you? I trust all has been well?" With that said, Aleister is looking in the direction of Tiaryn, so that a smile and a nod of his head can be given, followed by, "Lady Tiaryn. A pleasure, as always. And, I think I shall accept your gracious invitation. Thank you." Looking to Liss as a chair is delivered, there's a slight incline of his head, a smile and a quick, "Thank you, Liss," before he's moving to lower himself into the seat. Now, there's a flit of his eyes amongst those gathered, but it's Pariston to whom he seems to settle upon for a moment, "Master Vis. How's the Young Lord doi.." The rest is cut off by the sudden call of 'wench', for he's turning a touch to look over in the direction of the voice.
"Oh my," Anais murmurs as Liss brings out the tray of foods, a shadow crossing her features before she can summon up her smile once more. "My father always told me if you didn't know who someone was, best you treat them as what they might be," she replies to Pariston. "And you've got the shoulders for a knight, if not the title." There's a gentle tease to those words, before she looks back to Aleister. "As well as may be for the moment, Lord Charlton." She follows his gaze toward the man calling for ale, smile faltering once more. "I'm afraid the gentleman has the right of it. Times are tough."
Tia smiles at Liss and inclines her head a little stiffly. Everything she does is a little stiff. Jacob and Bethy get to chit chat with Anais' guard and maid, no doubt, but not Pariston since he's a visitor and gets to stay with Tiaryn. And company. "Indeed, I suspect that Master Vis might well be a knight were he from the Riverlands and not the North," she murmurs softly. And yes, her gaze goes over to the man, adding her own teasing to Anais'. She too glances at the fellow who is hollaring out for the bar wench, but she leaves it after a moment, instead turning her attention to Aleister. "I trust your family is all well?" she asks, after a moment, a hint of wistfulness in her eyes.
Liss twitches an apologetic smile at her VIP table, bobs her little curtsy, and makes her way over to Riathe with her jug of ale. She gives him a pleasant, professional smile. "Here you go, Master." she murmurs, pouring for him, deftly. "Would you like something to eat as well?" she offers. "We have some lovely spiced mutton…" she suggests, temptingly.
Pariston grins at Anais words. "Perhaps, though I do not think a knight's life is for me." Said in a rather light tone. A smile and nod to Liss as quite a lot of food is delivered. "Thank you again." He offers. When Aleister is to speak to him he looks over before following the man's gaze. Looking at the person that called out, his brows raised as he his studies the man and Liss. Though he does finally turn back to Aleister, "You were saying, M'Lord?"
His head is already lowered back down toward the table after he made the call. Riathe mutters toward the table in a long drawn out tone, "Nooooo." The cup wiggles back and forth - then he realized she filled it and some of it splashes on his head. He says to her, through the table, "Thank you bar wench. Come back in five, please." The cup is then lowered, some of the ale running down along the back of his palm and his fingers. Thankfully, there was no one around to call a party foul.
Looking back to those at the table, Aleister seems about to speak before he finds himself looking back over in the direction of Riathe again. There's the curl of his lips to a smirk once more and then he's lifting his voice after clearing his throat a touch, "Shouldn't serve the rats, Liss. Bad for business. Feed one and next thing you know, you'll have a sudden infestation of them. S'why they have their own watering hole, several streets over." That said, he's looking first to Tiaryn, so as to offer, "Well enough, considering all that is going on." Then, it's to Pariston so that he can lift a hand and wave it, as if dismissing his previous question.
"Not for my brother Torsten, either," Anais smiles swiftly to Pariston. "And Quentyn only did it because he's to be heir. So people wouldn't think he couldn't hold his own. Not that you can't, of course, it's just…well, you know. Lord Charlton, did I heard congratulations were in order?" she asks. "Your wife was safely delivered of a son, was it?"
Liss shoots a worried look over at Aleister as he speaks and turns back to Riathe, leaning over to whisper urgently to him, "You're upsetting the lords n' ladies. Come on… you have to go…" She tries to move under his arm, to help him to his feet, her small strong arm coming around behind him. "Alright, let's go… on your feet." she instructs him in the same stage whisper.
Tia glances back over at the fellow in the corner, as Aleister calls him a rat. Scatter then, rats. She inclines her head at his comment about being well and his family too. "I see," she says simply. "Thank you." There is a bit of a downcast to her expression, and she sets her tea down, instead looking towards the ale thoughtfully. Right then, after this cuppa tea, she can switch. "Lady Anais, was there something you had wanted to talk to me about?" she asks, after a moment.
It's a bit tough to get him to his feet, but Riathe's relatively compliant even if he's leaning on her pretty heavily. "I pay - I came in through the back… what else do you want?" He leans his head down and looks toward the cup in his hand. Which would be in the arm that's not wrapped about Liss for support. His foot kicks at the chair he was in - not on purpose, more a fact of his hard stumble. His head rolls back a little, trying to look toward Liss's eyes but they can't seem to quite hold it before his head lulls back down toward the ground. She's got him up and moving at least, right? Moving is so subjective…
Pariston nods to Aleister's dismissive wave and then goes back to gaze in Liss's direction. The words from the man is something he migth be more used to than the nobles. Watching as Liss is helping the man, from the looks of it. "Please excuse me." He offers to the nobles, he's not one to talk a lot with them anyhow. Rising to his feet and bowing his head to those at the table before moving towards Liss and the man, "Might you need any help?" He asks, the both of them. Not really wanting there to be a big scene in the inn.
For the moment, Riathe is forgotten as Aleister looks to Anais, so that he might offer a slight nod of his head, "You have heard correctly, my Lady, she did. And thank you." The words come with a slight incline before he's looking towards Tiaryn, though he doesn't offer anything as she inquires to Anais. Rather, he's casting a look back in the direction of Liss and Riathe and seeing the current state of the Rat, there's a grunt and a slight shake of his head, "You could always just leave him on the floor. I'm sure one of the guards would .." But, Pariston is offering a hand and he's giving a slight nod, "See. Like that." Eyes then flit to Pariston, "Thank you, Master Vis."
"Oh, nothing particular," Anais shakes her head to Tia, taking an ale for herself. "I just hadn't seen you in some time, hadn't heard much about you. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with you," she concludes with a small smile, reaching a hand for the other woman's to give it a brief squeeze. "Especially when I come upon you looking like you've lost a fight with a bull," she teases, smile crooked.
Liss oofs! As Riathe puts his full weight on her small form. She looks embarrassed as Pariston approaches and gives him a little shake of her head. "I've got him, thank you, Master." she murmurs, but then staggers under the drunk man's mass. She frowns.
"Oh, nothing particular," Anais shakes her head to Tia, taking an ale for herself. "I just hadn't seen you in some time, hadn't heard much about you. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with you," she concludes with a small smile, reaching a hand for the other woman's to give it a brief squeeze. "Especially when I come upon you looking like you've lost a fight with a bull," she teases, smile crooked.<RE>
Liss looks up at Pariston from under Riathe's heavy arm. "I have a pallet in the kitchen…" she says, dubiously. "Maybe we could just get him there and he could sleep it off…" She glances at the nobles' table. "Out of sight…"
Pariston nods to Aleister and offers a small smile, though he does not speak. Continuing over until he reaches Liss and the, so called, rat. Grinning as she tries and take care of it herself. Though when she looks up and speaks again he nods. Sliding to help steady the man and lead him towards the kitchen, letting Liss show the way. "I'm sure that is the wisest choice for now."
Tia beams at Pariston's going to help. He's such a good lad that one. S'why she will almost always grab him to be her guard when she can. She then chuckles, returning Anais' brief squeeze to her hand with one of her own. "The little baby Aerick is very cute. I'm sure he has Lord Aleister's nose," she says with a sidelong glance over at Aleister. "And not a bull, but rather a hedge knight and a man at arms, thanks to a bad horse."
Riathe manages to pull the cup up to his mouth and takes a drink of it. Call it a little act of the gods that he did it without spilling. Of course, then Pariston help him as well and his other arm is now draped about the other man. His hand with the ale rests on Pariston's shoulder. He turns his head to look to the Master-at-Arms and says with the smell of ale upon his breath, "You, m'lord, are a god among men. Thank ya kindly." Then his head lulls about again and he looks back toward Liss again. He grins and says to her, "You, are just pretty." Of course, that seems about the most articulation he can do before his head is lulling again. He's still trying to move his feet at least in the right direction.
With a look back to Tiaryn and Anais, Aleister is giving a quick grunt, though there's a smile that rests upon his lips, "Good thing I have such a wonderful nose then, isn't it?" There's a pause and a loft of a brow as he cants his head to the side, "Wait. What? You were in a fight with a hedge knight and a man at arms, as a result of a horse? Sounds like the Northerner needs to have a couple of people flogged and drug out in the street." The antics with Riathe, Liss and Pariston are not afforded another look at the moment, even as he is addressed.
"Only a hedge knight could earn a knighthood without learning to control a horse," Anais chuckles, shaking her head. She casts a look from beneath her lashes toward Aleister at his words, the faintest curve of a smile at one corner of her lips. "You remind me of Lord Tywin, my lord," she says. "He has never been one to suffer fools gladly." That's meant to be a compliment, right?
Tia sort of blinks at Aleister's comment, and then she frowns. "Well. I would hate to see anyone flogged for attempting to assist me. And my harp wasn't damaged, so perhaps flogging is too harsh," she says lightly, though then her expression goes obviously startled as she remembers something. "Oh! My harp!" A pause, and then, "Lord Justin still has it, in his saddlebag. Jacob, would you please see if he's left already?" Cause you know, that's just going to cause anxiety all over poor Tia if she has to go without the harp for too long. She might break out in hives.
Tia sort of blinks at Aleister's comment, and then she frowns. "Well. I would hate to see anyone flogged for attempting to assist me. And my harp wasn't damaged, so perhaps flogging is too harsh," she says lightly, though then her expression goes obviously startled as she remembers something. "Oh! My harp!" A pause, and then, "Lord Justin still has it, in his saddlebag. Jacob, would you please see if he's left already?" Cause you know, that's just going to cause anxiety all over poor Tia if she has to go without the harp for too long. She might break out in hives. (repose for Aleister)
Pariston grins at the man's words before glancing over to Liss. "Do I really look that much like a noble?" He says rather playfully as he continues to lead the man. Careful and steady steps as he walks along with the two. "Does this happen often?" He asks Liss, since the man seems to be rather out of it at the moment.
Liss sighs in relief as Pariston takes the drunk man over. She dimples at Riathe. "And you're drunk." she says, amused. She looks up at Pariston and considers. "Tall, handsome, good manners, broad shoulders…" She grins and whispers "Not a bit."
Flitting a look towards Anais, Aleister can't help but offer a low chuckle as his head dips in a slight incline towards her, "I will accept such a comparison as a compliment, my Lady, for I must agree that he would not suffer fools gladly." Then, attention flits back to Tia so that he can give a slow nod and a quick, "Assist? Well .. that sounds a far deal better then being in a fight with a knight and man at arms. What actually happened, Lady Tiaryn?"
Liss winks at Pariston, mischeviously.
There's a giggling sort of laugh from the man that Pariston is helping along. Riathe's feet slip a little and he has to lean more heavily on the Man-at-Arms. He responds to him, even if the question wasn't designated for him, "Maybe, maybe not. But actions speak louder than words." There goes his feet again of course, another slip and leaning into Pariston's shoulder once more. His head rolls about down between his shoulders and he pulls it up enough to look again at Liss, responding, "I'm only as think as you drunk I am. Wait…"
Pariston smirks at Liss's words. "Well thank you." He says with an almost overly polite tone. There is a rather charming smile on his lips, though soon the man is starting to laugh and slip which makes things a bit more heavy for Pariston. Thus he focuses on moving the man. "True enough." He replays to the man. Laughing softly at the man's word stumbling. "He seems to like you." He tells Liss with a small grin.
Anais doesn't interrupt at the moment, interested in hearing the story herself. She's also interested in nibbling at that tray of food, savoring each little bite.
Liss gives Pariston a self-deprecating smile. "They all like me when they're drunk." she responds, wryly. "I think he might be in love with you." she responds, laughing a bit. She shakes her dark head at Riathe. "You're exactly as think as I drunk you are." she tells him, amused. "But, come with the Master, here, and I'll take you to my bed." she says, with a bit of a grand flourish.
"Of course I like me. I love me!" Riathe announces in response to a question again directed at someone else. He grins widely toward Pariston and, as drunk people will do, regains his balance for the moment. So instead of applying weight, he suddenly /removes/ all the weight from Pariston as he's trying to compensate for carrying the man. "Wait… he was saying I like you?" Riathe said, turning his head to the side but not lifting it up, "I dunno. You're pretty but we just met! Also - I don't date mermaids." Then his head is lulling back down again.
Tia chuckles softly, and shakes her head. "I was in no fight, I assure you. And it really was all the Bad Horse's fault. Let me see - I was out on the outskirts of town, playing harp. Bethy and a guard were with me. Bethy and I had been collecting herbs, but were finished. In fact, Mistress Dorsey - I had meant to pay her for her troubles, but well- a reason to visit the roost if she has left here already. Anyway, she was listening to me play. And as we were there, a knight rode up on his horse. Actually he rode right past us a bit. We started to converse, he was quite polite and chivalrous." Okay, and a good flirt, but Aleister definitely doesn't need to know that. Her cheeks go a bit pink, but nothing to signify. "I believe he was a hedge knight. In any event, was we were there conversing, I chanced to look up in time to see that the horse had moved over from it's spot and was directly behind said knight, and it literally headbutted him and pushed him flying off balance." She pauses there, in case there are questions and so she can have a sip of tea. It's almost all gone now.
Pariston smiles at Liss, "I'm sure the like you, drunk or not." Offered before chuckling at the words that come out of Liss's mouth next. Suddenly feeling the weight disappearing as the man tries to move on his own. The man's words does make him laugh as he continues to lead him, feeling him starting to lull again. "Oh, straight to your bed with him?" He teases Liss as they move on. Wondering exactly where they are going as they have led the man for a bit now.
Listening to Tia recount her story, Aleister merely cants his head a touch to one side before giving a slight nod and a quick, "Huh." Then, there's a moment of silence before he's offering, "I'm glad to see you are not more seriously injured, Lady Tiaryn." He looks set to say something else, but the … Rat is still here. And talking of mermaids and other drunken foolishness and it draws a slight scowl to the Charlton Knight's features before he's murmering, "Excuse me for a moment." And with that, he begins to rise to his feet, head turning to cast a look over in the direction of the trio, no doubt so that he can begin to make his way over there.
Liss gives Riathe a puzzled look. "Mermaids?" she glances down at herself. Nope. There are feet. Bare feet, even, so you can count her toes, should you have the desire to. She blushes a little at Pariston's words, and gives him a shy smile, and, as his query, she gestures to the kitchen. "Through there. I have a pallet in the corner. He can sleep it off there." she says, with no mention of where _she'll_ end up sleeping.
"I imagine that was embarrassing for the knight," Anais says with some amusement at Tiaryn's description of the events. "Just minor injuries, then?" she asks, looking the other woman over once more. "Good grief, he must have been rather clumsy."
Tia sets her teacup down and then she says. "I set my harp down and got to my feet, probably a good thing or the rock would have been right where we were, and well, the guard tried to change the direction the knight was going, and so they both ended up running into me. I have - pretty minor injuries. A big bump on my head and a twisted knee are the worst of it. Since Mistress Dorsey was there, she helped take care of everything, gave me some willowbark for tea for the pain." She smiles though. "It's just all over bruises and bumps, but nothing to signify." She pauses and then adds, "And Lord Terrick - Justin Terrick, that is, came by in time to offer me a ride back to town on his horse. But now it occurs to me that he has my harp. I shall have to impose on you, perhaps, Lady Anais, to entreat him to take good care of it and to return it when next he comes to Stonebridge."
There are moments, in some men's lives, when being drunk can be a very good thing. This is probably not one of those instances. See, as they near the door Riathe disengages from the Man-at-Arms in a fluid about face. Spinning him a bit with arms now wide out. His head tilts about some and he furrows his brow as he responds, "Of course straight to her bed!" He pulls the glass up, putting it to his lips and tipping his head back. Not the glass, no his head, then his body aaaand there goes the balance. So, drinking from this cup he performs an act that most people (himself included) generally can't do sober - a back flip.
The landing is the problem more than the motion. See, the landing results in landing on his side, holding the glass still up, albeit the cup actually is tipped now. And tipped too far. So after executing the back flip, and laying on his side, he's now soaked his face in ale. Round of applause anyone?
Pariston continues to lead Riathe. Looking around a bit and does spot Aleister as he rises to his feet. "You should really keep quiet though." He tries to reason with the drunk man. Though about then the man pushes loose and does some kind of backflip. Sighing at the sight of the fallen man. Though he gestures to Aleister not to worry. "Please M'lord." He asks of Aleister before looking back to Riathe. Using a bit more power now as he tries to lift the man up. "Think we should hurry to get him out of here." He tells Liss whie trying to get the man up, still.
Beginning to move in the direction of Riathe, Liss and Pariston, Aleister is taken by surprise at the sudden motion that the Rat begins to perform and when the man completes the movement, which results in him landing on the side, there's a rumbling laugh from the Charlton Knight, though it's not one of sheer humour. A couple more steps are taken before he's casting his eyes to Liss and then to Pariston, to whom he gives a shake of his head, "Alright, I'm done being nice. Master Vis, grab the fucking Rat by his hair if you have to do and drag him outside and throw him in the street. I'm finding my desire to drink and eat being waned by his presence and if he remains a moment longer, his drunkenness is going to be the least of his problems."
"Oh, goodness," Anais smiles ruefully to Tiaryn. "Well, I expect he'll actually be back in just a day or two, so you shouldn't be without it for long. I'll send someone to let him know, though, lest he forget to bring it back." She takes a piece of bread, sighing softly after a bite of it. "Bread. I don't think I've been as grateful for it since Father left for King's Landing during the Rebellion."
With the story told, Tia relaxes again, her gaze going over to where Aleister has gotten to. Oh dear. Poor drunkard. She turns her attention back to Anais, and inclines her head. "Thank you, that would be most appreciated. I promise I will come visit, no need to hold the harp hostage. Especially as I am not entirely mobile at the moment, while the knee is recuperating."
There is a sigh leaving Pariston's lips before he lifts the guy up and being a bit rougher. "I'll take him through the back, closer to throw him out. Don't wanna have to pull him through the entire inn. That will just be worse." He tries to explain. Pushing the man out through the door leading to the back. "I'll make sure that he will not come back to cause any fuss." He adds before looking to Liss and then following the drunk man.
Liss gasps! startled, as Riathe suddenly performs drunken acrobatics, nearly kicking her in the head. She ducks behind Pariston, hastily, and slowly peeks over his shoulder at the drunken sot. She winces as Aleister's voice rises up behind them, and glances back at the lord, worriedly. She looks unhappy with the conclusion, but nods, silently, to Pariston, moving to help pick up the man's dropped cup. "Sorry, my lord." she murmurs to Aleister, in mild dismay, and scurries after Pariston.
Offering a scowl in the direction of Pariston, Aleister gives a curt nod of his head, followed by, "See to it, then, Master Vis, without delay. And ensure that he doesn't disturb anything along the way. It would be a shame for the Crane to be thought of as a common rabble house and it would be even worse we thought such rabble disturbed our food and drink while it was being made." There's a look to Liss, long enough for him to give a nod of his head and then he's turning to make his way back towards the table in which Anais and Tiaryn sit at.
Pariston nods to Aleister, "Will do M'lord. And please tell Lady Tiaryn that I will be back in a bit, once thise is all dealt with." He says before continuing on with the drunk. Though he finally realises that Liss had hidden behind his back. So when he moves he looks to her, "No worries, I'm sure it'll all be fine." Then he's off to the back.
One Ser Farrell Keane is the next to enter the establishment, certainly a part of the more common rabble but at least a knight. He walks in casually enough, narrow eyes glancing to and fro for anyone he might recognize before he bites his lip a bit and shrugs, making his way inside and looking for an empty table.
Anais flashes a smile at Tiaryn's words, laughing. "My lady, we would never stoop to such levels to bring visitors to the Roost, I assure you," she grins. "I suspect Justin was distracted by other thoughts. I can't imagine how he could have missed the presence of a harp otherwise. Honestly, Lady Tiaryn, it's as though you're fogging the minds of the men around you," she winks to the other woman.
This common rabble is not a knight, but dogs Ser Farrell's heels, nevertheless. Petite in size, barely scraping five feet total, Tamsyn is slim and might pass for a very pretty boy if the cut of her hair and clothing is all one observes. The sleeves of her undershirt are rolled by from forearms lightly scattered with thin scars, and her hands work a small, battered blade over a whetstone.
Now wouldn't that be a trick? Alas, if she has such powers, Tia has no idea how to make them work when she wants to. She finishes her tea, and then glances around. Ale, that's what she's thinking would be tasty, certainly. She grins at Anais' reaction to her teasing, and return tease. "One might only hope," she replies, a little wryly. "But alas, I am no such enchantress. Which does lead me to wonder just what is affecting them all. Perhaps it is the full moon?"
The opening of the door and the entry of others into the Crane draws Aleister's attention as he moves back towards the table and as his eyes play over the two that make their way in, there's a slight narrowing of his eyes and another scowl, one that comes with a shake of his head. It's only when he nears the table that Tia and Anais are at that he's offering, "See, what I did tell you. This place feeds one Rat and more come waltzing in." And there's even a tick of his head towards the entrance as he claims his seat. "You do have my apologizes, though."
Farrell pauses as he takes note of the peculiar follower seemingly for the first time, arching a brow toward her. "Ah, you again. Thought you'd have stayed back with Bluekite over at the camp by the Roost. You'll probably get thrown out of to wander off in here on your own, might as well stick with me," Farrell suggests with a shrug, as if he has no choice in the matter while he makes his way for an empty table and takes a load off in a chair there, throwing his feet up on a neighboring chair and leaning back. "I'm barely good enough for this place as is, tho'. Shame, don't see any good prospects. The usual self-concerned bunch, don't know why I bother comin' here."
"Mmm, I suppose the full moon is a possibility," Anais allows with a small smile. She glances toward the door at Aleister's complaint, though something in what Farrell says catches her attention, head tilting slightly as though to hear better. "It is a tavern as well as an inn, Lord Charlton," she points out, a dry note in her voice that could be amusement. "It's my understanding that they cater to those who can pay them for their services. In this manner, the inn creates revenue, which in turn flows to the coffers of the lords." She arches a pale brow, and this time there is a faint smile there. "As rich as I've heard the Charltons are, I'd have thought you were familiar with the process. Pity. I'd been trying to draw a list of potential lenders for the Roost."
"Would, but he's gettin' cranky with me. Doesn't much like me makin' him choke down the teas that'll keep him from up an' dyin' of fever," Tamsyn mutters even as her amber eyes scan the unfamiliar sights of the common room of the 'posh' inn. "Well, can't complain too much, could they? I bathed'n stuff." She did! Not a bit of grime, muck, or dirt on her, not on her breeches, vest, or shirt. She lingers by the table Farrell seats himself at, glancing over one of the chairs with a wary gaze before settling in it. Lifting her feet from the floor, she instead sits in the chair with folded legs and contains running the little blade over the smooth surface of the stone in her hands. "S'nobles, Ser, what didja expect, exactly? 'Sides, you never know. They at least have all the money, right? They might need ya for somethin'."
Tia grins at Anais, and nods. There, that's the answer. Even if it's not the full moon at all. She listens to Anais' reply to Aleister, her eyes dancing. Finally she turns to her meal again, nibbling, each movement a bit stiff. She'll not miss her harp today it seems, since she'd likely not be able to play it anyway. "Something interesting?" she asks though, as she catches that head tilt, her own words softly softly spoken. She herself then speaks up a bit to Aleister. "There is a big sign at the door too, that does advertise the tavern and inn, for all to enjoy," she suggests, just to add to the trouble the ladies are causing the noble knight for deserting them, even if only momentarily.
There's a cluck of his tongue at Anais and a shake of Aleister's head before he's offering, "Not entirely true, Lady Terrick. The Crane caters to the nobility, primarily. It is why so many of us are willing to make use of the rooms that are provided here." Now, a grunt escapes past his lips as he gives another shake of his head, "And, I'm quite familiar with the process, my Lady. When you have a common house for the rabble, they should make use of it. It is why it's there, after all, and it's ~far~ better for business." Tia's interjection into the conversation draws a flit of his eyes in her direction so that he can give a quick smirk and another grunt, "Ugh. Not you too, Lady Tiaryn." There is a hint of humor contained in those words though.
"Some are better'n others. Some are worse'n others. Some are /far/ worse'n others," speaks Farrell from experience, giving a grin to Tamsyn as she sharpens her knife. "Why, just a few moments ago, I was talkin' to the Cap'n of the guard, Ser Kamron Mallister, M'lady Danae Tordane an' M'lady….Saffron Banefort, was it? Jus politely edged my way in and talked to'em. They didn't try to throw me in the stocks or glare at me or nothin'. Ser Mallister even got us a solid line on work, and Lady Banefort said she'd talk to some Terrick Lady to see if she needed any help. Anais, I believe?"
"I'm rather fond of common houses, personally," Anais notes, taking a bite out of a strawberry with a challenging arch of her brow for Aleister. "They're full of interesting people who know things I don't. Like…" She trails off, glancing toward Farrell and Tamsyn. "My name apparently." Intrigued, she takes a piece of bread with some cheese and hard sausage on it as she slips out of her chair. "If you'll excuse me a moment?"
"Aye, well, that ain't been my experience. S'all, Ser." Her eyes dart over the assembled nobility with a guarded expression, watching them with some small sense of subtlety. Tamsyn slips the dagger into the top of her boot, the whetstone into the worn leather satchel slung across her narrow shoulders. She can't make out the conversation beyond piece meal, but the tone and body language is not welcoming. At least from certain folk. And Tamsyn, by nature rather than fear, hunches down in her seat to appear smaller. "Maybe so, Ser, but I ain't much worried about it either way. Rather not know which is which. Could get you in more trouble than s'worth. S'pose that's why you have more money'n I do."
Tia chuckles at Aleister's reaction, and puts her hands up, since she really was just poking gently. "Why not me?" she asks, letting her amusement continue to show. "I mean, I do occasionally have a thought of my own." She then blinks, her gaze going to Anais curiously. "So they do," she murmurs, after a moment. "Of course, Lady Anais, by all means. I suppose we shall keep an eye on things, and Lord Aleister can intimidate any that need it?" Well, at least she's sure she won't be doing any intimidating. Or charming, what with being without her harp.
Looking back to Anais, Aleister gives a slight nod of his head, "Indeed, they are. Along with a ton of filth and disgusting smells. But, if that's what you like .." He ends the thought with a shrug of his shoulders a nod of his head as the Lady Terrick asks to be excused. Looking back to Tiaryn, the smirk remains upon his lips as he offers, "Because, I'll have to have the Northerner lock you in a tower or something, Lady Tiaryn." It's clear that he's joking, for there's the hint of a smile that lasts a moment, "But, I'm afraid intimdating will need to wait for another day. I must take my leave, as well, to tend to some other things." And with that, he begins to rise from his spot at the table.
"Well, maybe if you got some fresh clothin', clean you up a bit, and you'll be all prim an' proper an' they wouldn't mind talking to you at all! Jus'…mind yer manners, Tammy. That's all it takes," Farrell advises with a grin, glancing over as the table of nobles starts to disperse. "Some are interested, some are all, 'I'll just ask my guardsman to take care of it!'," Farrell explains, in an absolutely horrible noble accent.
"I never ask Kincaid to do anything important," Anais announces to Farrell as she approaches the pair at the other table, grin flashing. "He's utterly useless." The red-haired guard in Terrick colors at a table with a short, slender girl - the pair engaged in a game of cards - snorts at that comment, though he smirks as well. "Forgive me for interrupting," Anais continues, looking to Tamsyn as well, smile still in place. "But I thought I heard a few names I knew. Including my own. I'm Lady Anais Terrick."
"M'clothes are /fine/, Ser. I washed 'em jus' today, and I fixed 'em and…" Her voice trails away at the approach of the vastly better dressed, better mannered, and generally better groomed Lady Anais. Tamsyn doesn't balk, but she blinks up at Anais owlishly, lips slightly parted, as if puzzled why the noblewoman would approach. "Wasn't uh.. Interruptin' nothin', m'Lady." Her voice, light and airy, sounds awkward as if unaccustomed to such formal pleasantries. And the laugh from the smaller, younger noble lady causes Tamsyn to gruffly clear her throat. "Nah, we're jus' here so that Ser Farrell can get some work."
Tia inclines her head to Aleister as he heads out. "Don't tell Lord Anders to lock me in a Tower! I'd have to lure a handsome knight to come rescue me by playing music on the harp that Lord Justin has." She stops there, even if the story is getting quite convoluted. "Good day to you, m'Lord. I hope to speak with you again." This leaves Tia at the table on her own now, though her maid and guard are nearby. She very cautiously and stiffly turns to watch Anais and the folk she's talking to, curiously. Ilaria's entry is noted, only as Tia was watching Aleister's departure but it takes a moment or two for her to catch on. So she offers the other woman a nod and a smile, but doesn't disturb her otherwise.
"I'm not sayin' it's terrible! Jus'…it could be a bit more presentable for the noble types. Look at one of their handmaidens, look like them. They're comfortable around those sorts," Farrell attempts to repair that comment, grinning at Tamsyn and blinking as Anais approaches. He offers her a quick smile and a bow of his head, rising from his chair as he does. "M'lady Terrick. Ser Farrell Keane, free lance. Quite odd t'see you, actually, I was jus' sayin' how I met a friend of yours, M'lady Saffron Banefort, and she suggested you. I'm lookin' for work, y'see. This is an…associate of mine, Mistress Tamsyn Teller."
When the greetings take place, Ilaria glances away. She has heard the names before, although the last - Tamsyn's - does catch her attention long enough to size the aforementioned women up from toe to head. Still, she has made note of Tiaryn's presence, and it is toward the Lady Flint that she looks a second time with a cheerful smile. "I had heard you took a spill, my lady," she calls to Tiaryn, iniatiating conversation while rising up from her chair to approach Tia's table. "But I was assured you were recovering quickly, and I am glad to see it is the truth. Was it truly a fall from a horse like I have heard?"
"Lady Saffron is my cousin, and dear friend," Anais smiles easily to Farrell, then gestures to a chair, starting to pull it out. "Do you mind if I join the two of you? The Roost may be looking for swords, but I'd like to get to know you a bit before I make any promises." She does wait for an invitation, though in the meantime she takes a bite of the makeshift sandwich, pausing to look at Tamsyn a little more closely.
Tia smiles as Ilaria approaches. "It is good to see you, Lady Ilaria," she says first, just keeping an eye on Anais, and her new found acquaintances. "It - a spill from a horse? Might I ask where you heard that from?" she says curiously. "It was not - I was standing on my own two feet when the horse rammed the knight who rammed the guard, and I ended up getting the worst of it. It is for the most part minor, though my knee is still not wanting me to use it." She pauses, as she considers. "And how have you been?"
The small woman, barely larger than a teenage girl despite clearly being older than that, balks at the closer study. It makes her turn amber eyes on her hands, studying them closely to make sure she's gotten the dirt out from under her nails. "Uh, if you want to n'all, my Lady." Finding nothing under her short, blunted nails, Tamsyn drops her hands uselessly to her lap. "I ain't dressin' like that, Ser, or I wouldn't be of any use. You ever see someone climb in that kinda thing? How 'bout hunt?" And then, she remembers Anais is there. "Not that uh.. There's anythin' wrong with the way ya dress, my Lady. Really. It just ain't my sort of style. I ain't much of a sword, I do other things. Mostly for Ser Lorcan and Ser Farrell, here."
"Ah, certainly," Farrell notes to Anais, moving around to pull out a chair for her so that she may settle in, wearing the most friendly smile he can muster. "Your cousin, M'lady? I hadn't heard. I was talkin' to Ser Kamron about the banditry issues and she was nearby, so she mentioned your name. What would you like to ask us, M'lady?" queries Farrell, who will settle Anais in to the table as gentlemanly as possible before he retakes his seat.
He grins over to Tamsyn. "Just…when you're in town. You'll be surprised how effective it is at talkin' to folk when you don't look like you've been in the wood for two weeks."
"Oh no," Anais waves a hand to Tamsyn, settling into the chair with another bite of her sandwich. "You're right. Dresses and gowns are pretty much only acceptable for hawking, and even then it's with gloves and capes and all sorts of other nonsense meant to protect the dress. Although a gown with fitted arms doesn't interfere terribly with archery, at least." There's a conspiratorial glimmer in her eyes. "Climbing, though, is certainly a task best done in pants. And swimming in less than that. But Ser Farrell has the right of it," she adds. "People see what they're shown, and believe what they see. Sometimes perceptions are more useful than the truth." The knight gets her full attention, then, head tilting slightly. "What would you like to tell me, Ser Farrell?"
Tamsyn Teller is not about to argue the finer points of clothing choice with a Lady, especially since she isn't here to get hired. Instead, the woman doesn't reply, nodding along with the Lady's words in quietude as her fingers pluck another chunk of willow bark from her satchel. The newly sharped knife is acquired from the top of her boot and she begins the slow process of cutting fine shavings from it atop the table. Ser Farrell can handle the business end of the deal, here.
Ilaria clasps her hands in front of her, listening with knitted brows in concern as Tiaryn recites the story. The girl bobs her head with each link in the chain that connects Tiaryn to a 'horse accident', but she is left frowning lightly in puzzlement. "Well," the girl replies slowly, deliberately choosing her words, "I cannot honestly pinpoint the /source/ of such a rumor. I could have easily misunderstood someone along the way, or—well, but I had thought it best to ask you anyway. It's proof enough that one must'nt buy into rumors. I am glad to see that you are quite well after all."
"True enough that. The rumour is however perhaps more believable than what really happened," Tia says. She'd shake her head, but that would still hurt. She chuckles softly by now finished what she wants to eat, and drink, mostly. She takes a breath and moves to get to her feet, her left leg still not really wanting to bear weight on it. She winces, as she stands, and Jacob makes it over to her side in an instant. "I think my knee is the worst of it," she admits. "But it's getting better already." She is an optimist.
"Ah, forgive Mistress Teller. I guess she's a 'lil shy, not used to dealin' with nobility. I certainly have, tho'," Farrell admits with a quick grin to Anais, giving her a nod as he thinks for a moment. "Well, M'lady, I'm a hedge knight to use the coarser terms. I was knighted during the Battle of the Bells five years ago by Ser Cormac Bolton. I fought with the king's army against the Greyjoys recently. I was a guardsman for the Flints until I was twenty, then…a sellsword for the next eight. I've been a wanderin' knight for the last five, and it suits me well. Mistress Teller travels with us to help, and my associate is Ser Lorcan Bluekite. He was over by the Roost last I heard."
"Bolton," Anais echoes, and before she can ask again, he names the Flints, and a smile touches one corner of her lips. "The Northerners, then. And Lord Flint and his lady wife weren't interested in taking you on again, or did you simply decide you preferred not to wake up with ice in your beard?" She doesn't seem bothered by Tamsyn's silence, though she does glance over to watch the carving every now and then.
"Ain't that I'm shy. M'not really shy at all, just ain't got much t'say that would likely interest a Lady." A couple of more shavings are hewn from the willow bark into a small pile on the top of the table. She regards it thoughtfully, as if weighing mentally, before continuing. "I mean, maybe I got some skills she—er, you, my Lady, might be interested in, but I ain't much worried about money, usually," Tamsyn murmurs, eyes on her work. Likely to avoid cutting her fingers, that knife looks sharp.
Ilaria smiles fondly at Tiaryn's light-hearted dismissal of the incident. It speaks to the lady's strength, in any case. "Are you leaving, then?" she inquires as one of Tiaryn's men appear at her elbow. "I was just looking to retire myself, if you would like an escort to your quarters, my lady. Heolla, come help the Lady Flint up to her quarters - mind the knee," she calls out to her tawny handmaiden, beckoning the girl over. Grudgingly, Septa Shiella heaves herself out of her chair to follow suit, squinting at Tiaryn.
"My father was also a guardsman, he was caught takin' a bribe. Not uncommon in Flint's Fingers, M'lady, but he was noticed by someone important. They threw me out for bein' his son. Being a guard was a only life I knew, and there was nothin' left for me up there after that. So I came to the Riverlands, and I've been here since," honestly explains Farrell, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning faintly. "Might've been easier to lie, M'lady, but I don't see the point. Tho' I will admit, I prefer the warmth to the ice in my beard." Tamsyn earns a chortle and a shrug, "As you like it, Tammy."
Tia certainly doesn't want anyone to get flogged for it, so she's making light of it. Just in case. "Indeed, I believe it is time to elevate my knee again. You might want to go up first, as I am quite slow." Jacob is there to help, and Tia is leaning on him quite solidly, as she limps over to the stairs. "But we shall follow after you, and if you wish to come join me for a bit, you are welcome. Do you know - I think I have bruises on places I didn't think possible. Including even my elbow." Her words trail off as she has to stop talking to concentrate on making her way up the stairs one at a time, and then off to her room.
And somewhere in there, if she can catch Anais' attention, Tia waves to her, to let her know where she's going.
Ilaria leads the way for Tiaryn, and behind the group follows her handmaiden and Septa. "I have heard that in such situations, you often learn more about your anatomy than you ever thought you'd know," she supplies to Tiaryn over her shoulder, and her voice fades as she disappears on the second floor.
"How do you know what might interest me?" Anais asks Tamsyn, smile quirking again. "You might be surprised." She looks up at Tia's wave, returning it with a wiggle of her fingers before she looks back to Farrell. "What sort of weapons do you favor, Ser Farrell?" she asks, finishing off her sandwich and brushing her hands off to the side so that crumbs don't fall on her skirts.
"I can use a lance, spear or a mace, fight with my hands and even pluck a bow with generally satisfyin' results. Mostly, tho', I'm twice as good a swordsman as any of them. Spent most of my time scoutin' or bein' a guard of someone or something," continues Farrell, who grins at Tamsyn afterward. "There you go, Tammy. Like I said, some of'em are easier to talk to than others."
He pauses a moment, remembering something as he adds, "My associate, Ser Bluekite, favors the mace. Not quite as skilled as me, mayhap, but he's better than any town guard."
"Well, uh, I don't. My Lady. Just doesn't seem somethin' you'd have use for. I just hunt for Ser Lorcan and Ser Farrell. Make 'em poultices and tea if they need it, and repair things like tents 'n clothes." That's what Tamsyn is good at, among other things, but she's content enough to fall quiet at Anais's inquiry aimed at the bigger, older knight.
Once she's shaved off enough, however much she wants, Tamsyn collects the shavings and puts them into a small wooden box which is squirreled away into her satchel. "I didn't say ya couldn' talk to 'em, Ser, just that… Ah, never mind, never mind. Ser Bluekite is like to flay a man with 'is tongue as much as a mace."
Liss comes out of the hallway, after a long absence, looking a little flushed. She straightens her apron and her little white cap, picks up a large jug of ale and begins circulating around the room, gathering empty bowls and plates, and refilling cups. She moves gracefully, evading out-thrust boots and chairs, and groping hands, a cheerful smile permanently fixed on her face.
"We could use knights who still remember a thing or two about caring for themselves," Anais admits, tipping her head to one side to consider the pair. "I imagine you've heard that the Ironborn did more than their fair share of damage to the Roost. Things are tight right now. They'll even out in time, of course. Thankfully the wealth of the Roost is in the land, and that isn't something you can ride off with." Quiet, she sets one hand on the table, brushing her thumb over the grain of the wood. "Why Terrick's Roost, rather than one of the other houses in the area?"
Lorcan takes a full pitcher from Liss' tray as she passes on his way in. "Thank you, my dear. Well aren't you a pretty thing." His gaze lingers longer than it ought to before his eyes settle on his cohorts' table, and he comes up behind Farrell, one hand leaning on the back of his chair, the other tilting the pitcher to his lips. "Evening. Business?"
What business conducted between Farrell and Anais isn't much Tamsyn's business; she goes where she's told, does what she's told. Instead, Lorcan's sudden entrance draws Tamsyn's attention immediately, and her amber eyes narrow thoughtfully. "'Course. What else? Should ya be drinkin' that, Ser?" She sounds… skeptical, and immediately reaches for the stuffed satchel in her lap. "Not that ya care. How's your head, though?"
Liss blinks as Lorcan snags the pitcher from her, and spins around to face him. "Thank you, my lord." she murmurs. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asks, with the sweetness of a barmaid angling for tips. Although, in her case, it does seem to be reasonably genuine. Maybe she _likes_ being a waitress…
"Never been too interested in land, M'lady. Wouldn't know what to do with it. As for why the Terricks? Best offers I've heard so far. Everyone else demands we join up or would rather their guards handle their problems. Not to sound arrogant, but I'm better than any town guard. Ehhh, Ser Bluekite, too, I'd say," speaks Farrell confidently with a grin, his expression growing a touch concerned as he notices Lorcan, though that concern likely has little to do with his teeth. "Ah…and there's my associate now. Ser Lorcan Bluekite, THIS IS /M'LADY/. /ANAIS/. /TERRICK/."
"I'd like to have a decent town guard eventually," Anais admits, though she quirks a brow when Farrell turns up the volume, shifting in her seat to see just what merits the change. "Hello," she greets lightly, offering a friendly sort of smile and wiggling her fingers in a wave before she looks back to Farrell. "Who was it you said you'd fought under against the Greyjoys?"
"/Lllllord?/" Lorcan's grin widens as he turns to face Liss. "I'm no Lord, but you may call me one! Do a little twirl and I'll give you a copper pen-" Farrell gets his attention and he shuffles back around, setting his pitcher on the table. "M'lady Anais Terrick," he repeats successfully. "You shouldn't strain your voice so much, Farrell. Oh, are we talking of his triumphs? Did he tell you of the time he nearly saved a cat from a tree?"
"Ehhh ale's good for everything. My head's just fine, I don't need your sticks," Lorcan adds to Tamsyn, waving his hand when he spots her reaching for her satchel.
Liss's dark brows rise as Lorcan starts mentioning money, but, as he's distracted, she gives a rueful smile and follows him over to the table, to see if anyone there needs anything. She bobs a little curtsy to Anais, but doesn't speak until she's acknowledged.
"Right," the woman replies blithely, expression rather flat. Amber eyes dart between Lorcan and Liss thoughtfully, and amused little smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. Tamsyn ignores Lorcan's claim, digs a few bits of cattail from the satchel, a few bits of fibrous root.
"Uh.. Could you, uh, get some boilin' water? Maybe a cup, too? For it," Tamsyn mutters at Liss, as if unsure how one goes about getting anything in an /inn/. Or maybe just not used to all this finery, it's hard to tell. The little wooden box is set upon the table, and the little woman shoves the freshly garnered greens at Lorcan with a set jaw. "Chew. I ain't waitin' till you're half dead to have a care, /Ser/. How else you gonna help the Lady?"
Farrell scoffs at Lorcan. "I could've saved that cat a good half hour before that little girl, but of course, they'd rather have their guards do it. What can be done?" asks the hedge knight with a sigh and a shrug, nodding to Anais as he responds to her, "Ser Bluekite and I fought with the king's host durin' the Greyjoy Rebellion."
As Liss stops by, Farrell looks up to her with a raised brow before thinking it over a moment and giving her a nod. "Water for me, Mistress."
Liss ducks her head, but looks somewhat disappointed. "Boiling water for the… miss, and plain water for you, m'lord." she repeats back, somewhat dubiously, and scurries off to the kitchen to obtain them.
"Ser!" interjects Farrell as Liss scurries off, giving a sigh afterward.
Anais can't quite hide a smile at Lorcan's question, shaking her head to Liss. "Thank you, but I should probably be getting back to the tower. I meant under whose command, Ser," she adds to Farrell, moving to stand. "For what it's worth, I do believe I like you. All of you," she adds with a smile for Lorcan and Tamsyn as well. "But if I'm to put your names forward to Ser Blayne and Lord Jerold, I'd like to see if anyone can offer a reference of sorts. For their peace of mind, of course."
Liss glances over a Lorcan and sighs. She snags a clean cup from the sideboard, and sets it next to his jug. She then takes the jug and pours a neat mug of ale, setting them both before him in a sort of pointed conclusion. She then ducks her little curtsy and maks her way to the kitchen.
Lorcan slumps into a chair and eyes the /sticks/ that Tamsyn shoves at him, eyeing it like a stubborn child forced to eat steamed cabbage. But he shoves the greenery in his his mouth nonetheless and chews dejectedly. But brightens upon hearing Anais' praise. When Liss sets the jug and mug before him and darts off, he looks to Tamsyn, whispering, "I think she wants a tip."
"That is an exceedingly depressin' barmaid," observes Farrell off the top of his head, shaking his head and looking at Anais with a somewhat confused expression. "The king led the last assault himself, M'lady. I suppose I could give you the name of the men that paid us, I wasn't too concerned with the commanders at the time."
"A tip? Well, uh, I ain't got any money, Ser," Tamsyn mutters in reply, watching Lorcan chew the offered plantlife with grim approval. She slides a hand into her satchel, fishes around. "They barter here? Gotta barter here, right? S'civilized n'stuff." While she's waiting, watching Lorcan chew, Tamsyn pulls something from her satchel and sets it on the edge of the table. It appears to be a still-live frog, small and bright green. And likely as puzzled to be here as anyone who would think it a proper tip.
"Anyone of note who was there with you would do. And I do mean of note in the broadest sense of the word," Anais adds with another wry smile. "Septon. Someone's brother. Even someone from the village." Standing, she brushes a hand over her skirts. "I really must get back to the tower, but I should be here for a few more days. I understand, of course, if you've other business you must be about, but I would like to hear back from you."
Liss returns, shortly, with a small kettle of hot water and a jug of cold, along with a selection of cups, all balanced on the tray. She sets the tray down and starts unloading it on to the table. She smiles, sunnily at the company there. "Can I bring you some fresh-baked bread? We have some spring strawberries and some pickled olives and a very nice spiced mutton…" she offers, hopefully.
"I suppose I could see if I can get ahold of the name of the man that paid us, if that'll do M'lady," Farrell answers, bowing his head to her as she prepares to leave. "I'll make sure to try an' find ya, M'lady. Thank you kindly, and G'evening."
Farrell quickly adds, "Mutton it is." to Liss with a quick grin, probably hoping that will be enough to solve whatever problems is going on here again. He completely ignores the frog.
Lorcan continues to drink straight out of the pitcher. Then nearly chokes when he spots the frog perched on the table. "TAMSYN, there's /nobles/ here, no one wants to see your damn frog!" And he reaches to bap her on the back of the head. "Put it away before I eat it," he grunts, then quickly adopts a pleasant face to see off Anais. "Good evening!"
It's a close thing. Anais can /almost/ be heard giggling about the frog as she leaves. Good thing she gets out the door quickly.
"Frogs is good eatin', you lou-" Her protest is cut dramatically short by the kindly blow to the back of her skull that sets her ears ringing, but is more surprising than harmful. She reaches out with slim fingers, snatches the amphibian from the edge of the table before it realizes its freedom and stuffs it back into the satchel. Tamsyn shoots a piercing glance in Lorcan's direction, but she doesn't argue; her attention is abruptly stolen by the retreating noblewoman. What does she say? "Uh.. Was nice meetin' ya-" And the woman is gone before she can finish.
Liss cursies to Anais. She glances at the frog, curiously, but makes no comment. She beams at Farrell, and scurries off to the kitchen, returning shortly with a tray laden with bread and cheese, olives and mutton, strawberries and little raisin-filled pastries. She also brings a second jug of ale, in case anyone else wants one.She lays it all out on the table. "I'm Liss." she tells you all. Just call me if you need anything." she says, with a warm smile, and then heads off to check on other tables. She will be attentive and efficient with whatever your culinary needs are for the rest of the evening, because she's an awesome waitress, and you should not forget to tip her.
