Tavern Tidbits

Tavern Hall - 

A somewhat young Tavern is that named the Sunscale, one drawn into creation from the blank canvas that was the basic Sweetwater Tavern before it. Suffice to say, with backing throughout 626 ATA from Sahna Nillu, the founder of Sweetwater Fields, and some anonymous funding from House Kahar, the Sunscale Tavern has flourished into something special indeed.

Devoted to a playful benediction of the Sunscale Carp - one of Fastheld's most prized fish, found only in waters close to Sweetwater - the Sunscale Tavern combines the modern with the traditional in a blend that results in pure satin. The walls have been crafted from a curious shade of oyster gray stone imported directly from Nillu's Lode; curious because the stone features imperfections - namely black and white flecks and veins - that actually enhance the aesthetics of the stone tenfold.

These walls are supported by smooth-hewn beams of oak, a deep reddish-brown in color, polished to a fine sheen that speaks of professional craftsmanship and skill. Oak tables are evenly placed within the tavern's main room, these sharing the same rich color that the support beams hold, with each holding four chairs around them. Candle holders in the middle of each table add a degree of ornamentation, and provide a dull yet cosy level of light and warmth when night has fallen over sweetwater.

Decorations depicting Sunscale Carp themselves can be found everywhere: Brass figurines remain scattered along the walls between flowing tapestries and detailed paintings of Sunscale Carp, Sunscale Carp, and even more Sunscale Carp!

A [-shaped counter rests near to the main door of the Tavern from where Kalia Clearwater watches over her establishement, while a trio of tavern maids - one curvy, one busty, and one young and svelte - serve those few patrons that drop by the whittle away the hours. Stained-glass windows, these again harboring Sunscale Carp motifs - permit colored light to shine through during the day, while hiding those within from those without behind a screen of clouded rainbows.

Time of Day: Night. It is the Tenth hour by the Shadow on Lanternglow. A strong breeze blows over the land. Misty white fog roils across the landscape. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Herald (blue/waning), Torch II (gray/waning).

Business flows as usual in the Sunscale, the trio of tavern maids flouncing between tables to flirt with would-be coin bringers. The warm glow of candles works well to counter the chill of the windy fog outside while the customers inside warm their bodies further with ale and their souls with tall tales and shoddy gossip. Isolated a small distance from the main stirrers this evening is a slender figure swathed in a black cloak. Green eyes watch the ongoings with skepticism between half-closed lids from her perch at the table nearest to the private room. Slouched back in the seat, the person has liberated themselves by propping a booted heel up against the nearest oak pillar.

Another enters the tavern, also cloaked and hooded, but his cloak is a bit less for being stealthy, as it is quite red indeed. Gefrey walks into the tavern a few paces, closing the door behind him before he pulls back his hood and starts walking for one of the maids.

''"Did ye hear dat de Valorias be lookin' fer Freelander craftspeople t' go an' live in dere place out at Light's Reach?" Somebody babbles urgently to her friend. "Dey wants 'em t' build somethin' fer 'em an' in return deys be gettin' money an' a nice place t' stay. 'm thinkin' I may go an' see if dere's anythin' I can do."''

Stone clinks rhythmically against metal as the healer passes rings between her hidden fingers, toying with the telltale artifacts. The dull glaze in her stare sharpens somewhat as a sheet of red passes through her chosen line of sight.
 * Clunk*

The wooden feet of the chair thud back into their proper place and the offending boot lowers from its perch. With a faint smile, she ducks her head forward, hands lifting to betray a faint, blue glow as they transfer the object of her play to a more secluded place. Once the hood is adjusted and she settles back into her slump, the Ring of the Stars and company are left to twinkle within a nest of concealed cleavage from their chain.

"Excuse me, Mistress," Gefrey says when he catches a maid. "Do you have an open room for the night? It's too late to continue on to Light's Reach, tonight." He doesn't seem to have noticed the glow just yet.

''"Dey had a flood come down at 'Unter's 'Orn " an elderly woman tells her son. "Jus' 'bout took out de whole village. Dey 'ad some nice walls put up dough. 'Spects it's not 's bad 's it might've been."''

"Wi'nae find 'ere t'night. Taken fer three days now." Trailing off, the maid lowers her chin aside to look pointedly in the direction of the semi-hidden patron. She lowers her voice a notch "Dunnae see her 'round much often durin' th'day but she comes 'ere at night. Can I intrest ye in some drink, M'lord?"

Gefrey Driscol looks rather tired a moment, before he just nods. "Ahh, yes, please," he says as he steps back. "A cup of your dusk wine, the local vintage, please." He slips away then, making his way for a table. The figure in a black cloak gets a small nod. "Good evening."

Averting her stare now that her presence has been made a point of reference, Rowena takes up the study of the bread crusts and dribbled remains of stew in her bowl. One such crust gets picked up and held delicately between fingers. The experimental roast over the candle flame has begun when Gefrey passes by and to his nod, Rowena bobs one in turn with a soft but audible "M'Lord." A chair opposite her own scoots abruptly out from the table in offering then her left foot returns to its previous tuck beneath hers.
 * Creee*

Gefrey apparently wasn't expecting that, judging by his eyebrow rises, but he can take a hint swiftly enough. He slips into the chair, murmuring a, "Thank you," as he looks across the table to Rowena, trying to catch her face.

''"Y'know dey be sayin' dere be some funny business goin' on down at Southwatch " a wench mutters to no one in particular. "But ye'd 'ave to go an' see fer yerself. I dunno specifics."''

"Good?" Questions the healer as she glances down at the satchel against her feet. "I suppose that term is a relative one, Duke Driscol. But I thank you all the same." Tipping a finger to her forehead in a vague gesture of acknowledgment or gratitude, Rowena leans noisily forward to right her stance and shift her face in the lighting to brighten her gaze across the table. "Sorry to inconvenience you," Her head shrugs back in the direction of the polished, wooden door behind her. "It is a long road to Light's Reach from here and a longer one still at this hour."

"That is... quite alright," Gefrey says as he catches sight of just who he is speaking to. "It is not too far to Marble Grove, at least." He pauses a moment, thoughtful. "You have been here long?"

"A time." Rowena smiles slyly in response, her brow quirking in secretive thought while her eyes return to their people watching. "I thought it best to give my body a small rest after the hurried nights of travel it's already been put through. Also, I found it acceptable to restock my personal supply of parchments, books, and ink. My hand has caught its second wind." She rolls her wrist in imitation of elaborate scribing. "I can only hope that the couriers I've employed along the way have been equally as productive."

Gefrey Driscol smiles faintly. "I wish I could tell you," he says, "but that would require lying on my part." He rests his staff against his shoulder as the maid comes up, leaving his flagon of wine. After the maid is paid and starts to leave, Gefrey considers his fellow in the duchy. "I see you prefer to travel without fanfare."

Rowena tosses the crispy, black morsel back into the stew bowl before her fingertips burn. "Sometimes it is easier that way," She sighs lightly and tilts her face to scratch at an insect bite along her jawline. "And, given the reasons for my travel, it is far more wise." Her hands placate themselves on the table top. "My kinsmen would argue against my reasoning, of course. I've not been a completely irresponsible Duchess in the process, oh no. My home is informed enough of my daily movements and information has its way of returning to my ears as well."

Gefrey Driscol nods as he listens, sipping lightly at his wine. "You have me terribly curious now, you realize," he says softly. "There is trouble here in Sweetwater I have not heard of?"

''"I heard they put out the fire at the Refuge with a wagon of soggy *underwear* " a girl giggles to her friend. "Can you imagine? Underwear? Now *that* must've been a sight worth seeing. Almost makes me wish I'd been there y'know?"''

"That is somewhat the purpose of my sniffing about, my Duke." Lowering her voice, Rowena tips back into her original posture of icredulous informality. "I act well within my juristiction as the One body responsible for matters of public health concerns. We noblewomen are bred to be masters of word bending and manipulative reasoning, so I assure you I can argue well my grounds for investigating here. Let me share only at this time with you the facts that have already slipped into public knowledge and perhaps you will figure for yourself the reason I am here and there, and there." Tapping the toe of her leather boot against the support beam, she stifles a yawn. "Mages are dying. A scourge is dead, "strangled" in her cell by invisible hands. As I've already shared with the Warpriest, the old woman did not die of murderous hands, save for possibly her own and a sip from wayward lips." Miming the act of drinking, Rowena rolls her eyes plainly back into her skull to complete the image. "Very few souls are so brazen as to defy Imperial Law and participate in the nursery and trade of such ... ill-tempered plants. But they do exist, clearly, as my findings have proven. It is only a matter of time now before I have captured the rat." Drawing her knuckles together in closing, she cracks them loudly.

Gefrey Driscol smiles thinly, then nods. "I see," he says softly, before standing. "Let me know, if there is any way I can aid you. For now, I should be on my way. Light guide you."

"Silence and patience presently are my allies, Duke," Rowena bows her chin forward in farewell. "But should the need arise, I will request aid. Keep safe on the roads. The safety of the Light's name is compromised in this era."