Page 552: Fenster Bachelore Party
Fenster Bachelore Party
Summary: Daryl pull Alric and other nobles down to the inn to celebrate. Also a bit of a run in on the streets.
Date: 26/Jan/2013
Related Logs: Garden Gathering, other things leading up to Alric's wedding.
Daryl Erik Robben Alric Kamron Nedra Saffron Bastien 
The Old Hoe
The warmth of an ever-burning fire lends the common room of this homely establishment an inviting, relaxing air as soon as one steps inside. Aged wooden floorboards underfoot are kept clean and well-swept, in keeping with the pristine, sturdy tables occupying the main area, usually laden with platters of mouthwatering local produce, pitchers of warmed strongwine and plump candles, wax dripping and streaking to their bases. Overhead, wooden beams line the ceiling, supported in places by pillars and playing host to weighty chandeliers slung upon chains for easy hoisting and lowering. An enormous arching fireplace within the far wall serves as a focal point for social gatherings, and the occasional spit for hunting kills to be roasted slowly upon; unleashing sumptuous scents to tempt the wanting stomach. A plain wooden roundshield is hung in decoration above the mantle, with crossed axes set behind. To one side, against this same wall, a small but serviceable bar offers a variety of ales and ciders from tapped barrels, and a tall set of wooden shelves waits nearby with freshly wiped - if rather worn - dishes and cups for customers. Several doorways lead off further into the inn; one to the kitchens, from which serving girls seem to constantly come and go, another to an additional chamber for those desiring a quieter table. Past the bar, stairs lead up to the guest rooms on the next floor.
Sat Jan 26, 290

Stepping into the inn, Daryl Ashwood nods his head faintly, seeming somewhat impressed by the overall atmosphere of the establishment, even chuckling a bit at the name, "The Old Hoe?…Well. Looks like we're in for one hell a night, ay Lord Alric?" A grin at that, and the Deputy steps forward in a bravado fashion towards the bar, letting out a shrill whistle to get the attention of the barkeep, "Hey! Lets get a round of brandys. We're here to celebrate tonight. Make it…" Daryl peers back towards the group, "…Five. And two pitchers to start."

At the sudden insertion of nobles, the commoners tending the bar seem quite pleased, and in a rhythmic clinking, glasses are set on the bar, one in front of each nobleman. Pitchers are filled from the taps, and a mug is poured to start off for each of them, making a small dent in both pitchers. "Well," Daryl says, looking towards Alric as he finds a seat at the bar, a smirk forming as he moves to raise his glass, "Cheers to a good man, good blade, and poor sod on his last night of freedom." A small snicker as he keeps his glass raised, eyeing the liquer as he waits on the group for the shot. "You got a fine wife to be, M'lord." There is no spite there, just well wishing for the other man.

Dressed up and actually looking the part of nobility, Bastien walks near the rear of the party that makes its way into the Old Hoe. The large man is paying little attention to his surroundings, likely dragged along to…whatever this is by his fellow nobles. Bastien's never been much of a drinker, and is even less of a socialite. Alas, one must keep up appearances, right?

When the glasses are set in front of them, the large man shoots Daryl a frown because…why not? Frowning at Daryl just seems like that one thing you can do to seem unawkward and right in any social situation. How dare he order drinks. In a bar. At a bachelor party. Slipping his brown eyed gaze away from the younger noble, Bastien takes in the sight of whatever crowd has made this place their abode on this night prior to a local lord's wedding.

Alric chuckles and nods to Daryl's words, "I somehow thing that you might be right." He admits and shakes his head a bit at that. Just seeming quite amused at all that Daryl is saying. "She is indeed. And thank you." Raising his own glass and waiting for the others to follow suit. As Bastien arrives, he smiles and nods his head to the man. Grinning quite a bit at the exchange between him and Daryl. For his own part he will only agree and follow suit for now.

Robben shakes his head a little as he looks around the Old Hoe now. "Ah, looks like a nice place," he offers, before he looks over at Bastien. "Ah, it'll be good for you," he offers to his brother, with a momentary grin. Looking back to the others now, he grabs his own glass, and raises it with the others.

Daryl looks back at Bastien for a moment, glass still raised. For once he could meet the other man's gaze and -not- be in the act of doing something wrong. Ah, well. The Ashwood grins as cups are raised, and then moves to clink his with Alric, giving a hearty, "Cheers!" And soon after putting away the liquer with practiced ease. He exhales softly afterwards, and then speaks to the Fenster, lifting his mug of ale for a sip, "I had the pleasure of meeting the Lady back in Highfield before she headed back home here. Smart lass. Bet she'll whip you into shape in no time." A teasing laugh, "Lets get another round! The Young Lord's getting married tomorrow!" Cups are refilled with liquer for those that took theres, and Daryl waves over an innservant, speaking in quiet tones and ushering her off towards the door. "Got to find where the Sheriff's at." He explains.

Alric's nod is mirrored as the two Young Lords make eye contact. Lifting the glass in kind, Bastien simply grunts in response to the toast. It sounds slightly approving, at least? Robben's comment recieves a slight roll of the eyes and the man finally speaks. "Horrible influence." Clinking the glass with their own, Bastien downs the shot and sets it back down on the bar. Surprisingly, the large man pushes it forward willingly. It seems if he's going to be forced into a social situation, he's going to be shit-faced while bearing through it. Daryl's comment about people being whipped into shape draws little more than a drawn eyebrow and a grunt from the Young Lord of Highfield.

Aeron still hates large groups and he doesn't actually show up intially. Or maybe he had always been there, but nobody had really paid attention to appearence. Like the ranger that he is, he's dressed in hunting leathers like he always, even if they're rather nice ones. So…formal reception leathers? Maybe, nice clothes never really felt comfortable or ever fit well on him. Anyways, he just sort of 'appears', melting out of some random shadow cast by the lamplight, or from a hallway, either way he's finally made an appearence, trading one large crowd for another. So the edginess still remains.

Alric grins at the sibling and then looking to Daryl as well. "Cheers!" Comes his own voice and draining the shot. Sipping ale as well. Chuckling a bit. "She is quite wise and I od look forward to it all actually. If nervously." He shakes his head a bit at that. Chuckling at the Highfield's young lord. "Do try and relax and enjoy." Knowing him decently, if not as well as the rest of his family. They are quite different in their way of acting after all.

Robben chuckles a little as he hears Bastien. "Someone has to be," he offers with a bit of a grin, before downing his own shot now. Turning to look at Alric, he offers a grin. "I'm sure you'll adjust well to this, as always," he offers to the man. Glancing around the room again, a bit thoughtfully.

"Just keep the bottle pouring," Daryl asides quietly of the barkeep, raising his second glass of liquer for those daring enough to keep in stride with his alcoholic self. Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl spots Aeron, and he slaps the stool beside, "Lord Aeron. Your drink's waiting." Indeed, there's that untouched glass. Where others shy from social situations, Daryl thrives. "Here's how I see it," Not like anyone asked…

Eyes shift to Alric, "Just a small time ago, we were wading through muddy rivers, thick forests, hacking about at well…I still like to refer to them as 'Imps'…Ugly sons of whores…Struggling desperately to find lost children, which we did…And now? Only a short time later your getting married, soon you'll have some young ones on the way…Tell me, Lord Alric. When that Imp was beating on you," A teasing grin, "Did you ever stop to think, 'Hm. In less than two months time I'll be celebrating the night before my wedding in Broadmoor with a bar full of nobles I'd rather not be spending time with'?" Letting the question pass, Daryl leans back and glances towards Robben, " You know you'll be getting one of these two, right?" A smirk, he knocks back his second shot, and speaks soft tone words to Aeron.

The advice to relax and enjoy recieves a shrug of the shoulders. This is likely as good as its going to get with the largest of the Ashwoods. Aeron recieves a nod from the large man, recognizing a kindred introvert. Taking up the second drink after its poured, Bastien pauses and watches his fellow nobles as they talk. Knocking the brandy back, Bastien sets the empty glass down on the bar and pushes it forward once more.

Alric laughs as he listens to Daryl, "Well. After almost getting torn by a boar first I did consider doing stupind things and it not being worth it. But the kids part seemed valid enough. Though, yes. There was a moment when I did think to lady Ilaria." He explains, so almost right. He grins a bit at that and shakes his head a bit. Alric continuing to drink. Lately not being a heavy drinker perhaps. But one do need to remember that he did spend time bored in Tordane tower at one point, for about a month or so. One do learn to drink a lot then, since it was on the house. Continuing and just laughing trying to enjoy. The glass refilled soon enough again and eyes do look between those gathered.

Robben listens now, draining his glass once more, before he looks over at Daryl at his words. "Counting on it," he offers a bit lightly as he looks between the others again. A grin offered to Daryl, before he looks back to Alric now.

More liquer is poured for empty cups, 1…2…3 rounds, it is ever flowing, as it always seem to be around a certain Ashwood. "Well," Daryl decides towards Alric, "I am happy for you. It is encouraging to see good things happen to good men." He hefts his glass for another gulp down the hatch, grinning some as he feels the burn go all the way down.

Not far from the fireplace, some tables have been moved aside, and amidst all the joyous toasting and cheering, it may be hard to notice the small grouping of women who have assembled nearby, two hefting musical instruments while two other girls, likely innservants or whores step in front of the musicians. They are spaced evenly, and soon music begins to fill the Old Hoe courtesy of the commoner women. It is exotic, if anything…Far from your average inn song, with steady knocking beats and a light plucking lute and harp that resonates throughout the inn.

Its at this time the two commoner girls without instruments begin dancing in smooth, swaying motions, a type most patrons have never seen before. Their bodies swing and shift in fluid movement, hips tilting, arms constantly waving and moving around their bodies. It's quite the show.

Daryl just sits by with a mile wide grin, as if expecting the performance. Was he the cause of this? There's a look to Alric, "Seems everyones in the mood to celebrate." The group is at the bar.

It appears that the messenger that was sent had found Erik and not too long after, the Jast Knight had managed to navigate his way from the keep down to the Old Hoe, though the 'e' may have been missing from the sign which made this place a bit more enticing, or less enticing if the whores are actually old. Pushing the door open rather roughly and quickly as if the portal was in his way, the young knight steps in, already drawn inside with the upbeat music escaping the walls, windows, the inn in general. What he sees inside is a surprise but certaily not disappointing, eyes focused on the girls that are dancing, forgetting to search for the men for a moment.

Knocking back one last drink, Bastien pushes himself out of his seat. "That is my queue to leave. Enjoy the women, gentlemen." Patting Robben on the shoulder, the large man leans in and ruffles his younger brother's hair. "Do nothing I myself wouldn't do." Staring at the women for a moment, Bastien turns and levels an accusatory and slightly tipsy finger at Daryl. "Have your fun, cousin. Know that if I am put through the displeasure of a wench knocking at our gates with a bastard in arms, it is your hide." Walking past Daryl, the large man clasps him on the shoulder and squeezes before turning towards the Groom. Thankfully, it seems the man only lords over and lectures those related to him. A polite nod of the head is given before Bastien starts to walk out, grunting at Erik as he passes by.

Aeron gives nods where their given, and he takes a seat next to Daryl, eyeing the drink that's been set for him. "Thanks." he notes, then quieting down to listen to this story that's apparently being said. Another nod is given to Bastien.

"Well, is there anything I would be able to do then?" Robben comments a bit lightly to Bastien, before he adds, "It'll probably be a rather slow and easy night for me as well. Got a few things I need to take care of in the morning." Looking to the dancing girls for a few moments, then back to the others now.

As for the women, Alric seems fairly uninterested. Perhaps a bit disappointing, but he never has been one to enjoy it without the romance. This being no diffent. Though he does offer smiles and nods to them. Bowing to the leaving Bastien and followed by nodding to Robben as well. Letting the others enjoy themselves. While he enjoys his mug and shot.

Daryl smirks just a touch towards Bastien, laughing just a touch and then quickly downing another shot which he coughs slightly in, wide grin still stuck to his face. "See you tomorrow, Cousin." He speaks to Bastien, glancing toward's Erik's arrival and waving his hand for him to join them. "Sheriff! Over here!" He's had a few already and it's apparent with his relaxed and loose demeanor. There are pitchers set in front at the bar, and liquer is in constant flow. Daryl nudges Aeron and head tilts his head towards the dancing commoner girls. "Don't thank me yet," he says, downing a good amount of ale in a hefty swig as he watches the entertainment.

The inn continues to be filled with music of exotic and upbeat variety, lute and harp and drums played in synchronization while the dancing girls, once settled at the fireplace, begin to move towards the nobles assembled at the bar, slowly and in graceful fashion. Twirling their bodies and swinging their hips in precise motion to the song played in echoing fashion. While they near the group, they haven't fully closed in, simply showing a better view.

"Try to enjoy yourself, M'lord," Daryl encourages Alric with a grin, before giving a double raise of his brows towards Erik and a head tilt towards the dancers. More ale is consumed quickly.

The Lord of Highfield approaching the exit of the inn is what finally snaps Erik out of his focus on the dancing women, his head bowing respectfully to the Ashwood Lord. "Good night, My Lord." Surprised that the other man is exiting though perhaps not. He has seen that Bastien does not have the same… apetites that some of the other Ashwoods have or have had. Then, the Jast takes a look around the interior to see where the men are situated and upon finding them with the help of Daryl's shout, he begins making his way towards the bar.

Robben seems to be content with drinking slowly in quiet for the moment. Listening to what's being said and such, but not saying anything for the moment, as he leans forward a bit in his seat.

Alric chuckles and nods, "I will." Although. perhaps there is a sturdy line in his moral code unfortunately. Though he will offer smiles and he will drink a bit more. Draining it well enough. "Come on Robben, go join in the dancing." He teases and occupies himself with his mug of ale. The approaching sheriff get a bow of the man's head. "Finally you arrive." He says with a grin.

A glass of liquer is set in front of Erik as he approaches, as is a fully poured mug of ale. Daryl tilts his head a little as he watches the women dance, as they swing closer and closer, offering winks and broad smiles though maintaining a professional, albeit flirty sort of demeanor. Daryl raises his mug to down the contents of it, setting it behind him on the counter with a 'thunk' expecting a refill.

"Congratulations M'lord," One of the dancing girls speaks to Alric as she sways around and past him to the skillfully played music, noting his lack of interest to -some- extent but still offering a lot of attention because he is the man of the hour. Soon, the two women travel towards Erik and Robben, feeling them out, gauging reactions as they try to bump and sway to the rhythm of the music around them. "Evening M'lord," One blonde trails quietly even as she dances about the Jast. The brunette on Robben seems content on being quiet, trying to find his eyes as she moves her body to the music.

Daryl is drunk at this point, and thoroughly enjoying himself, nodding with a grin towards Alric, "Good. After all, you're a happily married man tomorrow. Here." The Ashwood sends another shot of liquer his way, "Drink up, you won't regret it." He raises his ale then encouragingly before downing a long chug. "Erik! …Where've you been, brother?" A hearty laugh and grin, "I was waiting for you to get here."

Bowing his head to the Lord of the Hour, Erik flashes Alric a grin right back, "Apologies, apologies. I was held up, but now I am here and I believe I have a bit of drinking to make up for, yes?" With that, the Jast Knight boldly grabs one of the pitchers of ale, ignoring the empty mug that sits waiting and begins to drink, and drink, and drink. It appears that the young knight is rather earnest in catching up to the group and his efforts pays off rather nicely as not a drop of ale falls past his lips.

With the contents of the pitcher drained, Erik slams the empty vessel down on the bar, "Now fuck me running if I haven't seen a quieter group at a funeral, c'mon now, we are celebrating in Lord Alric's honor tonight. To be less than drunk and jubilant would be an offense." With that, he pours himself a tankard of ale and then another one, shoving it towards Robben who is rather quiet at the moment.

Before drinking his own ale though, Erik stares at the liquer that is set in front of him and picks it up with his other hand. And that is when the blonde dances up to him, causing him to take a seat on the stool, "And good evening to you, girl, it seems like you have quite the rhythm there."

There's a pause as Robben hears Alric's words, before he offers a half-smile. "Ah, you heard what Bastien told me. 'Do nothing I myself wouldn't do'?" A brief pause, as the smile widens. "Well, you wouldn't see him dancing, would you?" It's probably used just as an excuse, but still, convenient enough, right? Taking the tankard that's shoved at him, he takes a long sip, with a bit of a quiet shrug, before he pauses for a few moments as he spots the brunette. Offering her a quiet nod, but otherwise not saying much for the moment. Taking another sip of the ale, though.

Alric chuckles and nods. Taking his own and rising to his feet. Starting to dance and drink at the same time. At least able to do so to the start. So looks fine for now. He always have enjoyed dancing after all. He does laugh at Robben's words though. "Perhaps so. But a dance is fine enough I think." He suggests. Continuing his dace for a bit.

Daryl lifts the other pitcher as he rises to his feet, suddenly getting that extra 'oomph' when the Jast knight enters. "Now -THATS- what i'm fucking talking about! Lets see some gods damned passion, huh?! It's not every day a man gets married!" A jubilant laugh and he begins refilling mugs with his pitcher, spilling some and soon it is drained. It takes but a moment of hand beckoning for another pitcher to be put in his hands, which he moves to fill his own mug. Exchanging mug for pitcher, his free arm curls around Alric's shoulders, "Cheers to this godsdamned man right here! Long years of happiness and joy and…All that good shit. Drink!" Daryl begins pounding back his mug, not stopping until it is drained and letting out a content 'Ahhh!'

The brunette in front of Robben sets hands on either side of him, firmly planted on the bar top as she swings her hips in steady, pulsing circles, not touching him…But damn close. "Enjoying yourself, M'lord?" She asks quietly.

The blonde in front of Erik gives a naughty sort of smile, though continues to be professional, even as she turns and presses her backside against him, slowly lowering down his body and then back up, contact made the entire way, "It comes with practice," she explains while biting her lip in glee. "I love a man who can drink."

Daryl hears this, and peers around Alric with a laugh, seeing Erik. "Meet a new friend?" As Alric rises, Daryl claps in encouraging manner, "Yessss! Lord Alric Fenster! Finally! We've soaked you in enough ale!"

While music continues, out of nowhere two of the inn girls join in the dancing, more or less making a Lord Alric sandwich as they sway to the music. Daryl moves to down another shot, his free arm extending in a fist towards Erik, toothy grin shown.

As a toast is being brought forward by Daryl, Erik adds his drinks to the mix, the tankard of ale staying at his side but that glass of dark liquer raised towards the other men. "Aye! To many yaers of happiness and joys, and sons, lots and lots of fucking sons. Time to fill up House Fenster with good young knights, Alric." With that said, he smacks his glass into the others before bringing it to take down the whole amount liquer, wincing slightly until he chases it with the ale, smoothing out the whole process. "Damn! That had a kick. The fuck you've been drinking, Daryl?" All titles and proprieties are forgotten for this night it seems.

Tossing the empty liquer glass onto the bar, one of Erik's hands is free, just in time to encircle it around the waist of the wench that is enjoying her dancing up close and personal it seems, "Ha! And I love a woman who can dance." The atmosphere is indeed getting a bit more jubilant, not surprising when there is alcohol involved.

Alric chuckles and continues his dancing for another moment. Draining what is left in his own Doing a few nice moves and refilling and draining that as well while dancing with the two women before finally reclaiming his seat and patting Daryl on the back. "Your turn." A glance to both the sheriff and Robben as well.

Daryl is pretty damn drunk at this point, the Ashwood standing and moving to the music as well, though not in any manner as nearly as graceful or seductive as the women dancers about. Still, it is enough to lure one of the inn girls from Alric, as she sways about the Ashwood in smooth, practiced motions, her hands gliding up his body as she pushes against him.

"What have -I- been drinking?" Daryl replies to the Jast with a sound laugh, not even looking his way, "-Everything.- Everything and anything, brother. You know I drink faster than I talk." Daryl's barstool is smashed aside and falls down as the girl dancing with him pins him to the counter, "Oh, -shit!-" He notes, drunken grin plastered as he looks towards Erik incredulously, "…I like it here in Broadmoor." He admits with a snicker.

The blonde in front of Erik lets out a sultry gasp of breath, seductive smile planted as hands are set on the Jast's chest, and she lowers down again, hips bumping, circling, shifting as she provides for his entertainment, "This is not the only dance I do…" She breathes quietly, "I'm even better in private…" There's a suggestive wink there as she continues, the musicians deserving their due for such a lengthy performance.

Daryl archs an arm back to grab his mug, tilting it up and into his mouth, some of it trickling down his chin and falling down upon the counter top. "Fuck!" He exclaims through a laugh as the inngirl continues to bump against him, a look towards Alric, "…Do me a favor?…Could you…Could…Get married more often, godsdammit!" A drunken laugh, the Deputy looking to be pretty wasted at this point, though great alcohol tolerance keeps him running like a well oiled machine.

The woman in front of Alric, even as he takes his seat, provides entertainment by swaying and pushing against him lightly to the music, an impressed and surprised grin given, "M'lord!…I've never seen any man dance that well…Surely join me for another?" She nearly pleads, pressing against while she moves to offer him another glass of liquer forsaken on the bar.

Lifting his own mug to his lips, Erik drains the rest of the contents in quick succession before he drops it off on the bar counter, both hands free now as he dances with the blonde that is with him. He turns his attention to Daryl briefly though, "And you can talk pretty fucking fast, Daryl. If you like it here, you'll need to find reasons to visit more often!" That is all the Jast is able to say as the blonde recaptures his attention, her words causing him to laugh as with his second hand, he gives her a nice slap on her ass. He then leans in as if to nuzzle the girl, whispering to her, "If that is the case, then our buddy here, the Lord of Tomorrow, he is really good at dancing as you can see and will be most appreciative of your private… dances." Erik then leans back and winks, his plan is apparently to have as many girls fill the biggest bed this inn has with Alric in the middle with his last free night of bachelorhood.

Alric chuckles and nods to the girl that is dancing with him. Taking the offered drink and swirling it a bit before drinking. Downing it and getting another tankard and drinking as he rises and dances. Though he doesn't seem to be up for any private dances. These are fine though. For the time being.

Daryl finally retakes his seat, probably too drunk to be dancing anyway, and the inngirl finds a spot on his lap, smiling up at him as she asks, "Need company tonight, M'lord?" He smirks lightly, biting his lip as he eyes the woman up and down, "I…" A look to the right as he sees Alric and an almost devious grin rises. He seems to be on the same page, offering quiet encouragement towards Alric, the woman beaming some as she looks at the Young Lord Fenster. She slides from Daryl's lap to stand beside the girl tending to Alric, eyes on the man, "…M'lord, we should assure your stay here in Broadmoor is most comfortable, so we will accompany you to a room whenever your ready." The original woman who had been dancing upon the Fenster nods her agreement, eagerly smiling and quickly joining in the dancing with Alric, lowering herself down to his knees and back up as her hips thump against him in gyrating motions. The girl behind idly lets hands run down Alric's back, and he can feel her presence as she hugs him close from behind.

Daryl's drunk ass looks towards Alric with an enthusiastic grin, eyes finding Erik and giving him a 'We have to get him laid' sort of look. Man law, and all that. The Ashwood puts away another sip.

The blonde in front of Erik grins lightly, letting out a faint, surprised cry at the smack of her ass, though she only grins wider, "I'm here to put a smile on whoever's face you ask, M'lord….And I'm quite good at it." She hooks an arm around the Jast's neck as hips grind against him, though now her eyes are set on Alric, almost in a predatory manner. "-Whatever- I can do." Now that's a willing girl.

obben, regardless of his current state, is continually grinded upon by one of the females, and assumedly one should know better than to pass out at a bachelor party.

Daryl lifts another mug high, attempting to clink it with Alric's and Erik's "Cheers, my friends! May we never forget this night!…If we can remember it!" A heart laugh and more gulping of ale.

Erik is most certainly enjoying the temporary attention that the blonde is giving him right now, one arm around her waist as she continues to grind against him, her words causing him to laugh in amusement. "Good, then make sure he has a night he will never forget, because he will not be having another one like it." When Daryl moves to offer another toast, the Jast reaches for one of the randomly full tankards and raises it towards the other two still conscious men, "Cheers, to not remembering a fucking thing tomorrow." With a laugh as well, Erik brings it to his lips and chugs quite a bit of it though with the third that is left, he gives it to the girl that is dancing for him.

Alric is trying his best to continue to be standing and dancing but most likelt a combination of the bumping and the alcohol has him stumbling and falling against the bar. A lound thump at the collision against the bar. That will leave a nasty mark in the morning. "I think I will be fine actually." He says and take a moment to rest now.

"Not a godsdamned thing!" Daryl chimes his agreement, raising mug and emptying back some more. He shakes his head after the intake. Whoa. A stupid drunk smile sits on his face as glazed eyes look about as if he had died and gone to heaven. "Erik…ERIK!" He calls lightly, standing to his feet and swaying, almost losing his ground if not for an inn girl catching him with an amused laugh. "Think of the…Fuckers who…Gotta wake up tomorrow…For morning routine!" Daryl laughs hysterically, and even with his super tolerance, he had a headstart on the group. The man angles for the door, catching one hand near the frame before he lets himself outside.

The sound of coughing and yacking soon follows, though it isn't particularly violent or sickening. Just a standard, run of the mill exodus of poisons. After the coughing stops for a few moments, Daryl enters the inn again with a victorious sort of grin. "Get anotha' pitcher!" He calls towards the bar, stepping back in without a single drop of vomit on himself. He could probably use some mine, but…His breath probably reaks of alcohol anyway. He takes his seat once more and immediately slams back more ale.

The women laugh, though not mockingly but in pleasure amusement of their success tonight, and the music slows to a more peaceful and tranquil beat. Two of them sidle up to Alric, offering their affections while the blonde remains pinned to the Jast, smirking a little up at him. She leans in to whisper in his ear with an excited whisper, "Half rate…" It is a business after all, and she's expressing personal interest.

Daryl seems just fine after ridding the evil within him, only to put more in its place. A girl stands beside him too, running a hand through his hair with a wide grin, "How much have you drank?" She queries incredulously, "…Everything," Daryl mumbles back, snickering drunkenly, "I'm good like that…" Another slurp of ale to get back what he lost. "ERIK!…" He calls lightly, "Love you, brother." A look to the Fenster, "ALRIC!…You…You need to find a room here tonight, I think." There's giggling amongst the women.

When Daryl is forced to make a hasty but temporary exit, Erik can't help but laugh in amusement as he watches his Deputy leave, knowing what is coming next. "Making room for more, Daryl?" He calls out before lifting his own mug for another drink, apparently the Jast is made of much sturdier stuff tonight. Or he is just able to drink that much as well when the ocassion calls for it. He then turns to Alric who has a stumble after having too much fun with the girl, "Whoa there, Alric, don't hurt yourself too much. Drink some more to ease that thump!" Then his attention is back to the blonde, grinning as she continues to ply her trade. "Another night, darling. But tonight is not my night, it is his night. I do like your enthusiasm though, very much so." He then leans in to whisper with a chuckle, "Perhaps you would like to come to Highfield?"

Alric laughs and nods to Erik. Drinking even more and then tries to dance again but fails and stumbles. Draining what is left and putting the tankard aside. Grinning at the lords and ladies the same. About the time as Daryl is coming back and he sort of tries to go for him, "Maybe. And here I thought I would be clearing things first." Teasing Daryl a bit. Though then he stumbles and fails and hits the door and falls out and onto the street. Well. That is what happens when feet go first. There is a point when one should stop dancing, perhaps that was Alric's point. ten minutes ago.

Daryl laughs and glares daggers back at the Jast knight, though being in such a good mood it just looks comical. "Hey!…I started way before the fucking rest ….of you. And I drank way…Quicker, while you…" The Ashwood watches as Alric stumbles about with an amused laugh, uncontainable when he sees the Fenster hit the street.

The women gasp and some giggle lightly while they urge, "Lets get him inside."

"Hold on, holdon-holdon." Daryl speaks drunkenly, looking to Erik as if they were on the most important mission they -ever- been assigned. "…We have to carry Lord Alric to a room…Its our…Duty. As…Men." Yeah. Well, that makes sense. But his heart is in the right place! Get that man out of the street! The Ashwood steps confidently, albeit drunkenly to the Lord, waiting for Erik.

The blonde laughs quietly and then notes Alric's fall, "…Well, i'll…Do my best." She assures, and then raises both brows, "Highfield!…Whats it like?!" As soon as Daryl walks over she shuts up however, eyeing the fallen Alric.

Erik can't help but watch as well, in full amusement as Alric staggers about and only when the other man reaches door does the Sheriff of Highfield push off of the bar, shedding the blonde that was draped on him. "I will have to tell you another time, sweetheart, but it is a place that is a lot of fun." With a wink, he walks past to help Daryl pick up Alric and most likely escort the Fenster Lord to the biggest room this inn has.

You head towards Town Square

[ Town Square ]--------—[ Broadmoor ]

Sat Jan 26, 290 — Sat Jan 26 23:09:30 2013

Broadmoor, the seat of House Haigh. Well-established over the years, the town boasts a large population, with a mixture of both the farming families who bring in the crops, and the merchants who make their living - and the Lord's - from its sale. The people have not gone wanting. The houses and stores that overlook this bustling cobblestone square are well constructed and kept in fine condition. The occasional guard or man-at-arms can be seen on patrol, ensuring the safety of those who come here to browse the wares of the colorful stalls, and often there's a troubadour or two to be heard, plying their trade within the crowd.

A busy inn dominates almost one full side of the square, with airy windows and an adjoining stables for the weary mounts of the guests who may arrive.

SLAM! The door to the inn going open as man comes tumbling out of there and crashing into the street. Soon enough seeminly followed by several other, giggling and talking from the inside. The crashed man being the man of the hour. Alric Fenster. His not knocked out cold, but he seems a bit tumbled. The people trying to come out and bring him back inside. Lying still outside for a moment. "That. Hurt." Though then he starts laughing.

The exceptionally pregnant Mallister woman offers her goodsister a gentle smile. "Well, there's nothing for you to worry about in that regard—" Though before she can continue to soothe Nedra, Saffron turns her head sharply toward the abrupt arrival of one Alric Fenster. She blinks several times at his sight, giving her husband's arm a ginger squeeze.

Daryl is one of the men moving to fetch the Fenster, though he is clearly drunk and if one had been watching the inn, he had exited the Old Hoe to find a quiet, unseen corner to puke only moments before the Fenster's falling exit. But now? He is ready and able, moving to lift Alric to his feet and using his body as a brace, handling himself quite well for his inebriated state.

Daryl laughs belatedly, quietly, "C'mon Alric. We got to get inside." There's a drunken, amused snicker.

The Jast Knight is the one that appears to be the least inebriated of the three, coming out of the door of the tavern to help with the drunk Fenster Lord. "Wrong way!" The young knight says with a chuckle, hoping that the dark of the night will hide the features of the three of them. "Back inside, where it's warm and the ale is." Moving to the otherside of Alric, Erik helps lift him up by the arm to help escort the man back.

Kamron nods his agreement to Nedra's comments, opening his mouth to respond. The crash of the nearby door, however, has him turning of a sudden and reaching for an axe that isn't there. He relaxes a little as he recognizes that it's a couple of drunk noblemen, and not any more dangerous threat. Arching his eyebrows as he recognizes the groom to be, the Mallister knight laughs softly, looking over to his wife and his sister, "I remember what that was like."

Nedra jumps slightly at the sound of the door to the Inn slamming and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the street. Not, mind, that she'd ever heard such a sound before. But now she can reliably identify the sound. She turns, not slowly, and stares toward the man who's crashed upon the walk outside the inn. Her eyes widening slowly as he starts laughing, watching as first one then another drinking companion emerges to help the first to his feet. "Do you," she says, not asks, of Kamron, casting a sidelong glance at her brother.

Alric chuckles and takes Daryl's help. Eyes do go to the sounds out on the streets though. Studying the Mallisters and staying on them for a bit before he bows to them. "Lords, ladies." A bit hesitant at going inside perhaps. He does look a bit back and forth. "Shouldn't I be getitng to the castle soon?" Having no real idea about how late or early it might be. Blinking and shaking his head a bit. "Aplogies." Comes his words to having disturbed the Mallister's peace.

Saffron tilts her head a bit as she watches the arrival of the men, and she casts Kamron a slight smirk almost in perfect sync with Nedra's teasing question. "I'm sure he does," the wife teases the husband before she glances back over toward Alric. "It is alright, Lord Alric," she reassures him, though she does cast a gaze up toward his escorts — and she offers Erik a slightly brittle smile.

Daryl can't help but let out an airy, suppressed laugh at Alric's state, "We should -really- get inside," he insists, the man who had just fallen now more or less being hefted by the pair as they attempt to haul him in. To clear the silence, he speaks, "You should see the man dance! His feet move as if he was a man possessed, it truly is talent!" Little more than drunken rambling as he looks to Erik, nodding motioning his head back to the inn as they move to pull him back in.

Oops, Alric just dragged them towards the gathered Mallisters, which Erik wasn't expecting to find out here. The Jast Knight does incline his head respectfully to the visiting party, the smile offered by Saffron returned with a warm one himself, bowing his head to the Lady he had met at the Roost in the past. Then his attention returns to Alric with an amused chuckle, "We need to get you back inside, Lord Alric, looks like you could use a seat!" And perhaps another tankard or two of ale.

Kamron pauses a moment at Nedra's question, then grins crookedly, "Well, I remember the morning after." Looking over to the disheveled noblemen, he shakes his head and chuckles, "Not a problem, Lord Alric. Although if you can still remember that you have to be back at the castle in the morning, your friends here haven't been doing their jobs."

"Do be sure to deliver him, in one piece, to the ceremony in the morning, my lords," Nedra calls out to Lord Daryl and Lord Erik. "It tends to disrupt the flow of the day if the Groom has to be fished out of a water trough before he can be made presentable. Try not to misplace him," she asks nicely. The drunken rambling is met with a slow shake of her head, a mild trace of amusement, another sidelong glance toward her brother and goodsister before back to the inebriated trio, "Don't encourage them, Kamron," she says in a lower voice with a not gentle elbow jab at her brother's side.

"Ser Erik," Saffron says as she is silently greeted, and her pale blue eyes rove over the Jast knight speculatively. Then she does her best to brighten with a more dimpled smile toward the other pair of gents, bowing her head gently. "I'm certain that he is in good hands, Lady Nedra." Then she straightens up a bit, hand still resting on that ginormous curve of belly.

Alric nods and looks to the Mallisters for a moment longer with a wide smile. "Do be well." He offers as he is more or less carried back inside. He raises a brow at Kamron's words, "Tomorrow?" Trying to let it fall into place. "Oh, of course, yes." He then is indeed brought back inside. No resistance really.

"You got it," Daryl confirms in response, speaking smoothly despite how drunk he is, "We're taking care of him, don't you worry!" The Ashwood disappears inside as he hauls in the Fenster with a whispered, "Well. Did I not say it, Lord Fenster?…One hell of a night at the Old Hoe." A nod to the Jast, "Lets get him some Ale." Yeah, that'll solve everything.

Laughing, Erik can only nod at Kamron, understandingly exactly what the Mallister Knight is saying, "Of course, Ser, we will be sure to perform our duties adequately tonight." Then a glance a Nedra, a grin flashed in her direction, "Which includes making sure the groom shows up in the morning refreshed and presentable." The elowbow jab causes the young knight to chuckle in amusement again. As for Saffron, the Jast does incline his head respectfully again, "Lady Saffron, you look well." It is obvoius that Erik is certainly handling his alcohol well tonight. Then, it's back to duty, which means escorting Alric back inside for more fun time.

Alric is mostly only dead weight at the moment, starting to look quite sleepy and lost but able to stay awake for now. Hanging from those that are helping him.

Kamron oofs softly at the elbow to his side, chuckling at his sister, "I don't know that they need encouragement, sister mine." He nods to the two escorts, then looks back to his female family, "So, do you think we'll see the groom in the morning?"

Saffron curves her fingertips slightly against her belly, and she inclines her head again. "Thank you, Ser Erik. Certainly a genuine compliment." Maybe. She offers him another dimpled smile before she looks over toward Daryl and Alric. "We will see you along tomorrow, Lord Alric." Then she glances toward Nedra and Kamron, the latter getting the bulk of her attention. "You better have behaved yourself, Kamron." Then she shrugs her shoulders to the question. "I'm certain we will," she says, despite the uncertain shrug.

"He'll be there," Nedra says, sounding calmly confident in Lord Alric's defense. "He may not enjoy the music or the food, but he'll be there."

Daryl continues to drag back the fallen Fenster while he clears his throat and peers towards Erik, hefting the man inside and issuing him to a seat first and foremost. "Should've got here sooner, Erik. Before Lord Bastien left."

The three drunk lords disappearing back inside.