Service with a Smile ((open!))

[The Sweetest Thing]

Anastacia Alliendria hummed a travelling tune as she swept the Peaceful Promenade's front stoop. The sun winked as it dropped behind the two story inn-and-tavern, signifying the approach of evening and the Promenade's busiest hours. Dust swirled around her green cotton skirts as she brushed the long wooden porch with a corn broom. Her shift had just begun, and she was grateful to start it outside. The gentle exercise and waning Autumn warmth would do her a world of good.

She had returned to Scara Brae just the day before, stepping through a hole in the air and travelling overseas in an instant. Her friend Jacob Narmolanya would collect her by portal in some weeks time, and 'till then she had picked up some shifts at the Scara Brae version of the Promenade. She'd worked as a waitress at the original tavern in Underwood, Concordia during Corone's civil war. The same owners had put up coin to foster a twinned tavern in Scara Brae, and she had taken used her influence to gain the job as a cover when Josh asked her to travel home.

Remembering her true purpose on the island helped as she entered the dimly lit pub. Ale already soaked the air, the sawdust on the floors moist and clotting. She swept around the busiest tables near the front, ignoring the advances of a drunken pair of goblins in surprising finery. Their type was unusual in the City, but their gold shone equally as bright by the light of the tavern's oil lamps.

She passed the bar, most of the stools vacant. Although the tables near the door held some elves and dwarves in addition to the goblins and main human population, three of Pallotan's Knight's occupied the only taken barstools and appeared to be drinking water and eating plain bread. At least they tipped on occasion.

Most of the tables near the kitchens and stairs to the rooms for hire were empty. She thought she saw a mysterious shadowy figure in a cloak in one corner, but couldn't be sure. The tables were wiped and ready, the chairs pulled back and inviting. Fresh fatty and doughy aromas wafted from the kitchens, and swelled around her as she pushed through the swinging door.

She'd have just enough time to grab a quick meal herself, and then she'd be needed on the floor for sure.

This thread is OPEN to the first FOUR players who post. You must enter the tavern and stay in it for the duration, although hanging out on the porch or exploring the immediate surroundings is permitted. You may bunny staff and guests as NPCs but not each others characters. This is a social moderated quest, so we are practicing following strict rules of RP and there will be no combat permitted. If rules are violated, IC moderation may be enforced. Short posts are fine though, this is all about exploring our characters and having fun!

[Prophet]

Kyle had walked into the small tavern, rubbing his arm where he had fallen on it a few weeks before, he wrote out a quick note "Ale on porch." for a quick drink delivered to the porch, before going to sit out there. As he walked, a woman in green passed him, holding a broom. He smiled at the evening sun setting, and at her, then the sun again. Watching it light up the sky to a blazing bonfire. The fury of a thousand years. He tapped his foot in rhythm with the croaks of frogs, and the buzzes of cicadas, the music of the world. He thought back to the trip to the Promenade.

*Earlier*

On a boat to the island, it rocked slowly, and a man stood at the helm, looking forward, as the slaves below rowed against the wind. His coat flapped behind him, and the wraparound sunglasses on his forehead slid down to his eyes. He pushed them back up, the let a small puff of smoke escape his closed eyes, in their weird fiery flickering madness. They landed three days later.

*Now*

He smiled back, before closing his eyes, pulling down the sunglasses, and leaning back in the chair, waiting.

As of BiCTbG i have made Kyle here a nonverbal character. He does respond in the notepad he keeps on his person though. -E PS. Are bar brawls in the NPCS allowed?

[Musashi]

This place looked inviting enough. Musashi approached the front of the local watering hole with a weary anticipation, his robes floating in the breeze, kissed by the setting sun. The porch was occupied by by a few tables and a stranger whom he acknowledged while he passed, but didn't stop in his steps.

"Good evening friend."

The door to the tavern swung open without any fuss, the instant lull in conversation announced the presence of a new guest for the friendly establishment as the new man pulled a couple of glances, all out of curiosity, and it all returned to normal, clearly he wasn't as interesting as the rest of the clientèle.

Polite conversation filled the air and a barstool was filled. The samurai allowed his muscles to relax, finding the time to push away the fatigue that had, for the past few days, clamped down against his muscles. A deep breath escaping from his lungs, refilling them with the always appetising scent of fresh baking and hot food. The traveller ordered a couple of fried meat patties, and paid for them.

After a hard week of travel it nearly felt fantastical to have something that smelled quite so good to be prepared for you but a fantasy that you could easily let yourself be a part of.

The samurai smiled. As life buzzed around him.

[The Sweetest Thing]

Stacia wiped butter and breadcrumbs from her lips. She'd left the broom in the kitchen's cleaning cupboard and seated herself at the tiny table beside the stoves. The heat and heavy food made her feel sleepy, but as serving men and women bustled in and out the swinging doors and cooks threw meat patties into cast-iron pans, she knew she must return to work.

"Thanks doll," she told the young man in the sifan hairnet who handed her a plateful of food to fill an order and the customer's belly. She backed through the door that led to the staff side of their well-stocked bar and searched the stools. A samurai had seated himself near the Scara Knights, absolutely at ease with the lawmen and the world around him. Stacia had visited Akashima once before, and recognized his traditional topknot and garb. He had the same quiet confidence as Joshua Cronen, the man who had asked her to return to Scara Brae. She would have preferred to stay in Radasanth with all its mysteries and wonder, but Cronen was a close friend, and the task he'd offered of great importance. She felt honored to have undertaken it, even if it meant serving food and scrubbing dishes at the Peaceful Promenade.

"There you are, Master Samurai, may I fetch you a drink as well?" She said, setting the steaming plate of mutton patties and potatoes before him. "It isn't often we see a warrior from the land of the rising sun about these parts. What brings you this way if I may be so bold?" She leaned across the counter, blue eyes drawing him in like twin whirlpools. Men she showed an interest in gave the best tips, and this Samurai was actually interesting, a true oddity so far from his homeland.

Stacia noticed a slip of paper requesting ale on the porch which had been laid aside, and slipped it into the front pocket of her short canvas apron. After she ensured the samurai was settled, she would bring a frothy mug of ale to the porch for the mysterious note-writer.

After Musashi's next post Stacia will respond to him and serve Prophet. Here's a few general roleplaying tips: allow your characters to notice new things about the environment, and also to have their own perspectives on elements I have already described. And don't be afraid to be specific! If you want to order a drink from a one-eyed bartender, or have a beautiful woman enter the bar and sit on your lap, go for it! Since we are avoiding combat in this thread, we will need to generate some conflict from other sources. Let's raise the stakes so our characters get emotional!

Also, there are still TWO slots open in this thread for two other members! Experienced RPers and newbies are equally welcome!

[Avus_Insectium]

Avus rarely entered human settlements. He knew that most of the Hume folks did not take kindly to beastkin amongst them. Having ventured into the Peaceful Promenade to sell some wares he'd recently acquired on hunts, Avus was weary of the town folk. It wasn't necessarily their fault, Avus figured not all Humes were bad. It was just a natural paranoia towards socializing that Avus held and that kept him from having the friends that he should have had. The Promenade are was a quiet town, and there were various Hume folk out and about. Whilst there, Avus considered getting hired on in the township for more permanent work. Up until that period, Avus was helping out the Concordian Wood Elves and would sometimes turn a nice bit of coin from the pelts and hides he brought them. Sometimes other materials that could be harvested from Concordia Forest.

Avus looked at the tavern for a long moment. He was somewhat hungry, and had some extra time before he ventured back into the area surrounding the promenade. Scara Brae was a different environment Concordia Forest. He'd oft heard of the Liviol Sanctuary in his travels and wanted to see it with his own eyes. Avus ventured into the tavern, deciding that a good and hot meal was in order. He would worry about getting a room for the night in the town when dinner was acquired. Most importantly, Avus wanted work. He was looking to turn an honest coin whilst he was in Scara Brae's Peaceful Promenade. His eyes narrowed, and he walked over towards an empty table. Menus were set up on the table, and the beastkin took his time to investigate it.

He sat on a much larger chair to accommodate his considerable physique. It was only then that he realized how actually hungry he was! He studied the menu until he discovered something that he liked. Once that was done, he motioned for a waiter to assist him...

[Musashi]

He returned a nod towards the three soldiers, accepting a mutual level of recognition as bar stool neighbours. The three soldiers were a small squad to themselves; one a fresheyed pup greener than grass, the second, closest to Musashi was an aged old man, a scar running the length of a creased but shaven jawline, the third who sat furthest away was in the medierary stage between fighting for right, and fighting because it was all that you knew. weary eyes in a too young face.

He turned away, sitting properly with his back to the world. Thinking that maybe he should move to one of the table if he were to truly eat something.

The steam was the first thing he noticed as it hit his face. Freshly cooked meat and potatoes filling the offering plate now sitting on the wooden altar was enough to make him feel more real than he had done in days. He hadn't even thought about the taste yet. Simply the smell had released him of the trappings of the world. The very real sound of the server brought him back without any more fuss.

"Your best wine."

He ordered, still intoxicated with the sight of his meal, temporarily only wanting the best that was to offer.

The samurai glanced up, then gave his full attention, noticing the waitress who had brought such a wonder was a wonder herself. A picture of near perfection that many nobles at home would prize more highly than many of the white faced young geisha. Time, for Musashi at least, slowed down. Literally.

For the briefest of moments, his perception altered on reflex rather than command which wasn't unheard of however since Musashi knew no other's with the same ability he knew not what was normal or not. He was aware however that as it did, the green of each iris would swell, pushing the brown into thin, almost unnoticeable lines and appear to spin. For the samurai, everything would just slow down, helping him to examine people, combatants and cheat games in the market.

Useful for combat. Not so for conversation. You can't have one perception at a different rate than the other, because the other fades into the background, becoming a distorted murmur. The samurai blinked, His composure still solid and time running smoothly. No doubt his brown eyed gaze had also returned to its normal, static, state.

"...brings you this way if I may be so bold?"

Thankful for a jumping point and some conversation he smiled, her deep blue eyes were beckoning, drawing his gaze from everything else to only her presence

"I'm travelling. It is a new tradition that after one has reached maturity they are sent into the world to continue growing past the point reached at home, as a tree is planted in the ground once it has outgrown it's pot."

Taking a moment to cut up and place a butter soaked spud into his mouth to chew thoughtfully. The taste was heaven, and no doubt showed on his face. Showing the restraint of a samurai he swallowed and continued to talk.

"Here specifically, It is by either chance or the will of the gods, if they were to take interest in such things. What is your story, one who holds herself so well is never just a waitress."

The samurai smiled, feeling sure that some of his culture from home had helped him in unraveling a mystery and he very much wanted to continue the conversation that was just starting to blossom but his gut protested the pause loudly and an order had been left on the bar. It was time to eat and work and be served wine. The time for talk was later.

"Apologies for keeping you from your work, but It has been a long journey. Maybe we can talk some more when you return?"

He watched her as she moved on, eyes lingering. With a final protest, his gut rumbling, the warrior but a large slice of meat and pushed it into his mouth. Silencing the beast below.

[The Sweetest Thing]

Stacia backed to the bottle-laden counter without removing her focus from the samurai. He seemed lost in thought, and the way he'd reacted to the food suggested he'd recently finished a long fast. But at any point that he looked up, he'd find her eyes for him alone. She poured a pewter tankard full of Scara Brae's finest plum wine and plopped it on the counter before the warrior with a bend of the knees and bob of the head.

"I recently returned from my own travels in Corone," she said in a conspiring voice, a secret just for the two of them, "I may have an adventurer's heart, but at the end of each quest lays a pile of debt in gold and silver." She laughed lightly and shook out her hair, dispelling the notion that such things could upset her. "We all must pay our way, and I do enjoy providing service with a smile. Alas, I must serve others. Enjoy your meal!" She touched her apron, recalling the request for ale on the porch, and turned to fill a mug from the frothing tap. "Edwin," she murmured to the bartender as she slid into the kitchen, "the keg's nearly guttered, be a dear and tap a fresh one soon?" She scooted past steaming stoves and radiant ovens out to the common room.

Stacia stopped so suddenly a few drops of ale spilled over the foam-slicked rim. A giant insect had seated itself at one of her tables. The young woman was surprised but not put off. She adored insects, found their carapaces fascinating and their erratic movement entertaining. It took her only a moment to recover as she imagined how the creature must have had to stoop and turn sideways just to make it through the door.

"Be with you in a moment love," she told the beastling with an angelic smile. No matter the species, no matter the gender, Stacia could always find a term of endearment that fit. She swayed to the front door in double time, skirts swishing as she detoured around the increasingly bawdy goblins at the front. Truly, didn't they have any establishments of their own to disrupt?

The evening air and peace of the porch liked her well. She took a deep calming breath and stepped past the first two patrons, wizened men crouched around their pipes and whiskey and conversing in muted tones. The only other man on the porch wore the strangest shaded spectacles she'd ever seen. But he did seem to be expecting a drink.

"This for you?" She asked the tall relaxed man. She placed the his note on the table by his hand and pinned it down with the weight of the sweating mug. "Anything else I can get you darlin', or is the ale all for now?"

[Avus_Insectium]

Avus saw the waitress's reaction and wasn't sure how to react to it. Was there something on my face? Avus thought to himself, but shrugged it off. "Very well." He said plainly and continued to look over the menu. Avus was a fellow of few words. Her reaction had indeed caught him off guard, but he soon recovered his calm demeanor. Once that was done, his eyes scanned the environs better.

He saw several types of folks from the various races of Althanas.

A group of rowdy goblins were seated in one of the tables nearby. Their way of talk, and mannerisms immediately amused Avus. He observed the goblins as they ate, gambled, and performed several other obscure activities that Avus did not understand were cultural matters. Avus had a hard time understanding such matters. He looked at the Akashiman fellow, in his travels he'd come across a few folk like them Akashimans. They always seemed to treat Avus with due respect for whatever reason. He looked at the samurai for a long moment, and then almost did not notice one of the old wizard types walk up towards him.

"Pardon me." Came the heavy Gisela accent.

Avus blinked once or twice and looked at the old wizard. "May I help you?" Avus asked.

"I am curious..." The old man said. He had craggy like features, a thick beard and blue, pointed wizard's hat. He leaned against an elegant oak staff. "I have seldom seen those of your physical characteristics, and I have seen a great deal." He said carefully. "May I have a seat at your table?" The wizard spoke in a surprisingly kind sort of way, and he had a tone of great wisdom and knowledge.

"You may." Avus said carefully in response as he studied the older man. Avus saw that there was an eerie glow about the wizard, perhaps an effect of the man's robes. "I trust you and your companions are well?"

"We're part of the Mage's Guild in Scara Brae." He explained. "We're looking for new recruits and you have a certain air about you."

"An air you say? But I took a bath just two days ago..." Avus frowned. On HIS face it appeared as an intense expression.

"Hahahah." The wizard chuckled gently. It was an honest expression of someone who was impressed with what he saw. "Do not mistake my meaning. Air is an expression of everyone's Nimbus Cloud." The Wizard removed his had and placed it atop his staff which he leaned against the side of his chair. "Where are my manners?" The old man said. "My name is Jonas Pariah." Jonas said casually. "I see you are looking to at least have dinner here. Will you be here long?"

"My name is Avus." Avus said carefully. "I will be in the area around the township for the foreseeable future. There are good hunting grounds here. I make a decent enough living hunting for pelts, and leathers. Things of that nature."

"Splendid!" The man clapped his hands together. "I can recommend for you something nice to eat that would be suitable for someone of your stature." Jonas said. "Try the oxen meat. It is really quite tender and filling." Jonas found himself strangely liking the mysterious insect like organism before him. Jonas rarely saw beastfolk of late, the most prominent member he recalled being Sorahn. A mysterious beastkin of white fur and rather interesting physical configuration. His analytical mind kept studying Avus, and he saw that Avus resembled something quite close to a grasshopper. Sorahn was once a leader of the enigmatic group calling itself The Red and Black Hand. Jonas was one of it's few remaining subordinates.

"The ox meat you say?" Avus asked in response. "I suppose I could give it a try." At that point, Avus would try almost anything because he was really quite hungry. It had been a few days since his last hot meal. "So tell me, what sort of jobs and assistance does your Mage's Guild need?" Avus asked.

[Thorne]

Thorne sat in the back of the room, tucked away from the main floor, and more importantly, the rest of the patrons.

The thief was slowly working his way through a pint, quenching his thirst after the day's work. The day's work. That brought a wry grin to his face, hidden in the deep shadows under his hood. It wasn't often he got to see daylight, let alone work his trade in it. But the client had been specific, and despite the unusual schedule Thorne had acquired what the woman wanted. He had, of course done his research on the client as well; she was an elf, working for one of the trader captains currently anchored in the harbour, and apparently had a temper on her that made the other crew-members wary of letting her catch them leering. Apart from that there was very little of interest in the girl's background, and no reason for him to have turned down the job. The pay was good, the work easy.

And after things had gone awry a few weeks ago in Radasanth, the veteran criminal had decided a vacation was in order. Scara Brae had seemed like a decent option; it was well-known for its pirates. And for someone in his line of work, pirates meant business. Yes, they were a distasteful bunch of cutthroats to be around, but the thief needed the money. And there wasn't one among them smart enough to cheat him. So he had paid his way on to a merchant vessel bringing goods into the small island nation for trading, and had managed to cheat enough of the sea-dogs during the nightly dice and card games to live comfortably for a week after arriving. Sadly, the money hadn't lasted. It never does.

He leaned back in his chair, fingertips tapping idly on the edge of the scarred table-top, taking another deep drink from his tankard as he waited. It was good ale, he admitted licking the foam from his top lip. Definitely Salvaran, he thought. The rogue let his eyes wander over the other patrons and, as always, he tallied up how much he could make if he.. relieved them of their over-heavy purses - he'd already done as much to the three knights sitting at the bar when he first entered.

His musings were cut short as the door of the tavern opened, and in walked the client. Short, blonde, tanned from working the high-seas. Thorne leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table, the shadows under his hood hiding his features from casual scrutiny. After a few passing moments he realised the elf wasn't going to spot him unaided and with an inward sigh he waved her over. She sat down without a word and simply stared at the moonlighter with a grim cast to her features. The sailor was dressed in worn, dry leathers, her boots thumping loudly on the sawdust-coated floorboards as she cast a paranoid eye over her shoulder, and he had noticed the dirk tucked into her sleeve as soon as she opened the door.

"Hello to you too," he started, his voice quiet and dry.

The girl didn't crack a smile. The thief gave up attempting to be friendly, and settled for kicking the small bag under the table to the girl. She gave him a pointed look which he returned with his mis-matched eyes. The silence stretched on between them for entirely too long for a normal person to find comfortable. Thorne folded his arms over his chest, not even blinking. He spent weeks at a time without speaking to another living person; if the girl thought she could make him uncomfortable, she was sorely mistaken. Craning his neck from side to side, Thorne released a series of audible clicks.

"Well," she snapped, her voice a low hiss, "is that it?"

The thief waited another beat, silently enjoying her frustration mounting. He could see her jaw clenching, her left eye twitching slightly.

Eventually he acknowledged her with the slightest tilt of his head - a barely perceptible nod. She seemed satisfied and made to grab the bag from under the table. Thorne had other ideas. He rested his boot on top of the bag, almost catching the elf's fingers in the process. She drew her hand back, glaring up at the hired thief. She wanted to go for the dirk, Thorne knew. But she hesitated for a moment.

"Gold" he said.

Swearing under her breath about "bloody mercenaries", the girl reached down to her belt and dumped a weighty pouch on the table in front of him. His boot slid back from the bag and the sailor snatched it up. Without another word she stood up from the table and took her leave. Thorne wasn't sad to see her go. His sharp eyes turned to the lumpy pouch before him - a gold coin slid out from the top to land on the wood with a metallic chime.

Yes. Scara Brae was going to be a nice vacation for the thief.

[The Sweetest Thing]

Stacia peeked out from under the porch to catch a glimpse of pale crescent moon appearing as the sun's glow faded. It woukld be a long night, and such breaths of air kept her head clear. She left the tall fellow with opaque spectacles to enjoy his ale in silence and waded back into the smoke-filled pub.

The goblins near the front seemed to have multiplied - more must have come down from the rooms upstairs, or in through the back doors. They passed around the houses of vaselike water pipes, the fumes they exhaled heavy and sweet. An interaction in the pub's darker corner caught Stacia's eye. So I did see a fellow sitting there. Most taverns on Althanas seemed to feature cloaked men skulking in their shadowy depths, to the point that Stacia felt they were as much a part of the scenery as tables and chairs. But a woman had joined the lonely man, and a heavy purse smacked the table between them.

Stacia flowed toward the back of the pub in a wave of green skirts and red hair. Could the transaction taking place in the corner be what Josh had asked her to look out for? It hardly seemed untoward, folks used inns and alehouses to conduct all manner of business. At any rate, she had her tables to attend to.

"Did you decide on something love?" She asked the giant insect, and then turned to the beastling's tablemate. "And may I take your order as well ser?"

Feel free to post at will, no need to maintain any order here. We're moving on without Prophet for now but he can jump back in at any time.