A busy night (Open)

[Rymus]

It was late when the small merchant ship pulled into the harbor and Rymus officially stepped onto dry land. His time on the ship had been…interesting, but he would be glad to have a warm meal and bed to sleep in tonight. The sailors on board the ship had told the young man of one of the taverns in the city, and it was there that Rymus set off for.

At this time of night, the tavern was a bustle of activity. When he opened the door to the ruckus from the customers inside, Rymus bristled and almost turned around completely to search for another place to fill his stomach and find a bed. After a moment in the doorway, he steeled himself and continued in, closing the door to the cold wind before it could eat up anymore of the heat from the fire. The tavern seemed peaceful enough, if rather loud.

Rymus easily faded into the crowd as he moved across the tavern floor towards the bar, hoping to gain the attention of one of the barmaids. They were, however, quite busy, so Rymus settled himself down at a corner table with a sigh to wait. At least he could sit and enjoy the warmth for now, and the position of his seat gave him a vantage point that allowed him to people watch while he waited for the tavern to empty a little.

[Aorothy]

“Coming,” Arinden cried, juggling the wooden pitcher of wine, the three oranges, and the platter of whole chicken with both hands. And all this was for just one table. Six more tables to go. The onslaught of new customers coming through the tavern door seemed like an endless flood, and the buzz of frantic activity in the kitchen neverending.

And all of this, for a single paltry silver a day. Slave drivers, the whole lot of them. She should have gone into a bigger city. Should have taken up that work for the seamstress instead. Should have tried her hand at mystic-ing again. Should have cheated at cards. Should have done something else.

Should have.

All the should haves in the world didn’t stop another group from walking through those doors. She laid down the platter and the oranges in front of a brawny man in quick succession, and shuffled away fill a woman’s cup. Her blue skirts twirled as she danced through the room. Her hair was springing out from its braid, and strands were plastered upon her face.

Then she was at the corner of the tavern floor, where a newcomer had plunked himself down. The candlelights on the walls casted a thin shadow upon this area. She leaned over the table, and caught his eye. At least this one is alone.

“What do you want?” she half-demanded. "Drink? Dinner?"

[Izvilvin]

Izvilvin occupied the table ten paces from Rymus, but hadn't noticed the man come in. He was transfixed, currently, his head hanging over a parchment, his right hand delicately tracing it with a quill. He was taking notes, looking at a problem from different angles and trying to find the proper way to tackle it.

Exasperated, he lifted his head and leaned back in the creaking chair, his bright hair falling down below his shoulders. He'd been here for over an hour, trying to figure out how he could avoid writing a letter to Alydia to ask for some help. Izvilvin wasn't the most clever of people, didn't have her brilliant mind, but he wanted to do this on his own.

He rested the quill on the table and took a shallow sip of elven wine, savoring it, breathing into the glass.

There was no rush, he realized. He could enjoy an evening of relaxation in between the weeks of hard work. With that in mind, he looked about the tavern for the first time in quite a while. Izvilvin became aware of just how bustling and loud it was - he must have been utterly focused until then.

Decked in a black cloak, the dark elf sighed deeply and wondered what food they served at the Peaceful Promenade. It had been over ten years since he'd visited, since he'd made his first friend, Khalxaen.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

((Placeholder - will edit later))

[Antheruin]

this post is primarily directed at Izvilvin, but anyone else can jump in afterwards

The dark elf would not have long to wonder, as a tray of food was plumped down on the side of the table opposite to where he was sitting. An iron helm complete with face plate was soon to follow, its form being similar to that of an eagle, complete with beak and feathers so real that one might think them transformed from some giant specimen, rather than sculpted metal.

As for the tray, a small mound of breaded cheese rolls sat next to a mountain of dear meat and potatoes skewered on sticks that had been obviously grilled with some sort of honeyed sauce. Next to this sat a pile of some sort of rabbit chunks that had been baked with a strong lemon and olive oil. There was a goblet on that tray as well with a decanter of wine similar to the one that the dark elf had already tasted.

“I’m requisitioning this side of your table, as there are few empty. I’ll be obliged if you don’t complain much.”
The possibility of the dark elf noticing the tray’s carrier before that moment was apparently not something that the speaker noticed, or cared much about. The fact that the elf, evidently armored, obviously an officer of some rank, and easily ascertained as both female and not Alerian was addressing the dark elf gave plenty of evidence that she cared more for sitting than any Racal issues that might be related to the dark elf’s nationality.

“You are welcome to help yourself to the food; Thaynes knows it’s more than I can eat.”

[Tilpin313]

The floor felt pleasingly warm to Marco's bare feet as he slipped into the bar. His clothes were ragged ghosts of their former selves, covered in dirt and looking slept in. He looked windblown and tired, clutching tightly at his small pouch of money.

He scanned the bar for an empty table, while counting his money in his mind. At his estimation, he could afford to spend money on a few drinks and, for the first time in too long a while, warm food. His eyes settled on a corner table, where a young man sat and was already being attended to by a barmaid. He wove his way through the bustle of the crowd, dropping himself into a chair next to the young man.

"Two mugs of your cheapest. On me." He nodded to the young man. "And what dinner do you have that cheap and hot?" Marco's stomach growled loudly. "And fast?"

[SirArtemis]

The bustle of the Peaceful Pomenade was one of the most interesting places Artemis had found himself in, and yet it was so simple despite the fact. The aging wooden walls, lined with carvings of drunkards and lovers alike, almost breathed with life of their own. The windows were tinted with grime, letting very little of the evening's light settle into the brightly lit chamber. Lights were plentiful as flames flickered magically in sconces lining the walls and a couple hanging in the air above, like floating orbs of light. Meanwhile, the bar was full with glasses clanking, followed by heavy gulps and jeers. At the very least, the night was busy with a jovial banter rather than an aggressive tone, albeit quite busy with the server becoming visibly flustered.

"This has always been quite the place," Jay commented quietly as she rested her chin upon a hand. Artemis sat beside the silver-haired dark elf, watching her blue eyes trace the edges of every feature the inn held within. The traffic alone made it hard to track what had been going on, but the well-seasoned pair were not concerned. Artemis' gaze caught sight of another dark elf, sitting quietly a few tables away. Something felt strangely familiar about the man, drawing his intrigue. Perhaps it was the similarity to Artemis' early training partner, Hawk. The strange bird-helmeted companion seemed unrelated, though admittedly it was quite a sight to witness; Artemis smirked at the sight of the duo. "Well, are you almost finished?" Jay asked, turning to face her lover. She smiled sweetly at him, sitting back in her seat of the booth and letting her fond gaze meet his.

"Almost, darling. They work too hard to serve good food here, I don't want to insult them by leaving anything on the plate." As Artemis spoke, he used his last bit of bread to soak up the juices from the small steak he had just finished. He then scraped the last bits of potato mash up with a spoon and popped it in his mouth, washing it down with the remaining few gulps of his glass of tea; though admittedly it was cold by then. The pair had been there for over an hour at this point, discussing the details of their plan to begin a settlement along the southern mountains of Salvar to avoid the continuous conflict of Knife's Edge. Sitting back, he ran a hand through his short dark hair before it fell back in place, followed by a quick rub of his face to make sure no crumbs had found their way to the scruff of his beard. "Okay, I'm ready." With a smile, he slipped out of the booth and reached for the hand of his dark elf lover, his icy blue eyes meeting hers and giving her a quick kiss as they headed for the door.

Artemis detoured only briefly, slipping two gold pieces into a pocket of the hostess' garb on his way out. No one would notice the sleight of hand, except himself and Jay, who gave him a kiss on the cheek for the gesture. "Always the sweetheart, aren't you?" she teased playfully. He smiled back, letting his arm wrap around her lower back to pull her lithe figure close as they walked out the door, leaving the evening crowd to their escapades.

[redford]

Despite his skill with his hands, John Cromwell at times rode out from his forge in Radasanth to seek out old masters of hand to hand combat, and learn what he could from them, and perhaps improve his own style of fighting. Though people who knew more than he were becoming more and more uncommon, there were still brawling champions in the cities, the secluded monks, and of course, those of the order of Ai'Bron.

And to that end he had come to Scara Brae, and spoken with a dwarf named Hammer, who was said to never fall in the ring, no matter his injury. They had fought for hours before he would teach John, for Dwarves are as stubborn as the mountains they are hewn from, and John perhaps just as stiff-necked.

He had proved to be quite helpful, the half-giant mused, thinking that the best way to know a man was to fight him. If that were the case, John knew a great many men, and a great many men knew him.

He smirked a little, feeling a pang of melancholy as he wondered what his opponents saw when they fought him.

John shook his head, banishing the unpleasant thoughts from it. He had learned much from the dwarf over the few days he spend in Scara Brae, and now was no time to be drinking in sadness.

Taking in the sights and sounds of the streets again, John turned aside toward the Peaceful Promenade, having heard tell of fine whiskey and good company, both of which he needed this eve. Through smoky glass, the golden glow of merriment flickered, and the sound of laughter and the smell of food drew him powerfully to the large wooden building.

He ascended the three steps upward to an open porch, built of darkly stained wood. The few patrons outside hushed their talking and stared for a moment at the giant with metal legs, but resumed quickly enough. John paid them no mind; he was used to the silence following his entrance, and the hushed whispers in his direction that followed. If that alone wasn't enough of an oddity, John could certainly count on his burn scars to put others off, they crisscrossed his torso and arms like so many rivers leading from his hips to his hands.

John would have laughed, but that would likely have made the few patrons drinking outside scramble away in fear. Instead he merely smirked, and turned toward the door, seeing it open just as he was about to reach for it. A man stood at the doorway, though John could not see him except for his legs, such was his angle on the open door. A voice, familiar, spoke from him.

"I'd know that chest anywhere...."

John dipped his head lower, and sure enough, it was Artemis, old opponent from the Citadel, and perhaps friend. He reached out a massive forearm under the doorway, spying a fair-looking lady behind him.

"Artemis," he stated flatly, awaiting a response.

[SirArtemis]

"Good to see you're still alive," Artemis smirked as he stepped out onto the porch with his companion. He reached out his arm, grasping firmly with the large man's as well. "Didn't think I'd find you on the other side of the world, but often times it feels like no where is safe." John's laughter quietly rumbled in his large chest. "Oh, I'd like to introduce you to my beloved, Jay." Artemis turned, pointing to the beautiful dark elf by his side.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Jay." John bowed, though given his stature the gesture didn't seem like much.

The dark elf giggled in response. "A pleasure indeed," she said with a slight curtsy of her own. "How exactly do you two know each other?"

"We fought at the Citadel. It feels like ages ago. Who knows how long ago it really was." Artemis shrugged at the thought, turning back to the big man. "You look like you've changed. Don't seem like the same brash fighter any more. There's more poise about your posture and movements. And it looks like that armor of yours is changing too."

John shrugged at the reply, lifting a cigar up to his large mouth and clamping down on the end. He took a moment to light the end, taking a big puff and making sure the burn was strong. "A lot has happened." His respond, though brief, carried a weight to it that Artemis felt in the words alone.

"Are you terribly hungry? Because if not, I think you should join us for a stroll. I'd love to hear about the happenings of your life, if you don't mind sharing. It's not often I run into a former opponent so long thereafter. I don't spend much time at the Citadel it seems." Artemis looked up at the giant expectantly.

"I could wait. Just thirsty."

"What'll you have? We'll grab it to go and you can bring back the mug later. How's that?" Artemis asked with a big smile, patting the man on his giant arm in a friendly gesture.

"Sure, why not," John shrugged. "I hear they have fine whiskey here."

"That they do," Artemis smiled. He broke off briefly, heading inside for a moment and grabbing a glass of whiskey to go. It cost him another gold coin, but so be it. As he came back out, he saw Jay and John politely chattering away. He handed the glass up to the big man with another wide grin. "Come on then, what's been going on?"

With that, the trio strode off, leaving the Peaceful Pomenade to its banter and a later visit.