A Barside Demonstration

[Quentin Boone]

Closed to Christoph

Quentin walked into The Empty Hand with a sour expression on his face. His match in the Citadel had been cancelled and Adal had been unable to find a replacement fighter for him. "I've bloody lost near enough 'whole week's board, fuckin' Adal."

A few of the punters turned their heads at the newcomer, but most quickly turned them back; the regulars in the abysmal little inn knew enough about Quentin to not chafe him when one of his moods took hold. The brawler looked around for his friends but couldn't see them. He figured they were out finding means for the group to get by for the next few days, so made his way to the bar. As he limped his way towards an empty stool, Quentin noticed that Jannet was working; this lessened his mood slightly and as he sat he gave her a smile and took off the brown, sleeveless tunic.

As he tossed the tunic onto a stool next to him, Jannet approached with a wry smile of her own. The girl was friendly but far too scrawny and her pale red hair was greasy and matted; the fat bastard of an innkeeper clearly didn't pay her anywhere near enough. Nevertheless, she spoke with a flirtatious, musical tone, "What're you having, Quen?"

"Me usual, lass. Have ya seen Faaria abou'?" Boone replied with a gruff voice that still showed signs of annoyance.

"She's upstairs with him, has been for about ten minutes. She'll be down any time now." There was a slight chuckle from the girl at the last, as she responded to Quentin's question while pouring his drink. Boone, however, was not amused: He hated that Faaria had to do the things she did with the fat, dirty, sweaty bastard that owned the inn. "There you go, Quen. Want me to add it to your tab?"

"Best not'ta, lass. Adal le' me down." He gave two gold pieces and told Jannet to keep the change, which would be a piece and a half, and use it for food and water. She smiled at him with a polite thank you before moving along the bar to serve another patron.

Quentin ran a hand back and forth through his hair as he tried to think of how he'd get the money for the rent, but his mind and eye kept drifting toward the stairs and Faaria. Surely, she wouldn't have to do that for much longer. He took a long drink of the watered-down mead and groaned with distaste as he put the pewter pitcher back on the sticky, unpolished wood of the bar. "Shit."

[Christoph]

Another day, another bar. Elijah sat at the counter, idly swirling a mug of what this country called ‘beer’. The Empty Hand was just the right amount run-down that one might call it rustic. Or just run-down. Its haphazardly placed tables seemed made entirely out of dust and splinters and the smell of boiled cabbage hung thick in the air. Its customers However, during summer, seedy riverside pubs like this one became the best kept secrets in Radasanth. A steady breeze and the shade from taller buildings helped deflect the oppressive heat. In theory, at least, he thought, wiping his brow. He yawned.

“Need anything else?” asked the girl behind the counter, casually over after speaking with another customer. The poor thing looked in desperate need of a few good meals and a barber. Then again, guests couldn’t very well get handsy with her if she had no ass to grab.

“A less restless temperament?” Eli replied, inspiring a confused look from the girl. He shook his head. “No, not as of yet.”

Far more oppressive than the heat was the boredom. The Ai’Brone monks called it the ‘off-season’, the two summer months when the Citadel drastically scaled back its activities to prepare for new, grander spectacles for the harvest season. By no coincidence, this coincided with when most of the common folk worked the fields from dawn to dusk. For Elijah Belov, a man who earned his fame and fortune fighting in high-profile bouts, this meant considerable downtime. That meant countless hours spent wandering the city, visiting shady pubs with violent reputations, and waiting for something exciting to happen.

“Well, this is disappointing,” he said out loud, turning around to learn against the counter. He shot the newcomer a glance. “This place is known for two things: it’s watery beer and its brawls.” He swished his mug around. “I feel that I’m getting only half the experience.”