Lock Your Doors, Ladies!

==Lock Your Doors, Ladies!==

( Principle Characters: Farrel Lomasa, Godric Lomasa, Aylina Zahir, Otto Stonefish, Adrianna, Griedan )

''Thirsty Trout 05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)~ 05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC) [Indoors] [Cover: Fair] [Owner: Dianna] A rustic elegance comes from the natural warmth of the large, open room and remains what the Thirsty Trout Tavern is all about. As a bustling spot of business within the large township of Hawk's Aerie, there are plenty of quiet niches and corners for privacy, and in truth, the establishment has been redesigned with such an idea in mind. Along the outter walls that have not been taken up by doors, windows, the staircase leading up, or the area behind the C-shaped bar, booths have been built directly into the rich, seasoned oak of the Thirsty Trout walls. Each of these booths is more of a cocoon of wooden warmth, lined by velvet cushions of a deep blue. Instead of merely just a place to eat a meal and talk, the booths are literally carved from wood, with unique tables settled inbetween two high backed bench-liked structures that curve upwards to the ceiling. The outline of the two seats as they face each other is roughly oval shape, but each booth has its own small variation to create a uniqueness to each spot. To add to this uniqueness, designs have been painted on each of the wood frames, each depicting something different. Some are just flower designs, while others pay tribute to each of the six Houses in the form of their emblems. In total, there are about fifteen booths surrounding the room. The bar is one of the central parts of the room, situated at the back wall, opposing the door. Here is where the majority of patrons tend to lurk to exchange gossip and catch up on the evening news. A wide variety of ales, meads and wines are lined up on the shelves, within easy reading distance so everyone is aware of what is available. Some of these wines are quite rare, and displayed with pride. The rest of the spacious room is filled with tables, scattered at different distances, with enough room inbetween to allow for people to easily walk through. High within the rafters of the tavern, bolts of dark blue velvet hung to match the velvet cushions that have been spread through the booths. The last adornment of the Thirsty Trout is a tapestry hung over the bar, which is flanked by shelves. This tapestry is paying homage to House Lomasa, the stampeding bull, while a silent hawk wings its way above, steady and sharp-eyed.''

Otto Stonefish is standing and wrapped in his cloak as he talks to Ailith who is seated at a table laden with some food. There's a bard plucking away in the corner. It is a quite cold night. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently. Misty white fog roils across the landscape.

Ailith nods, still with that troubled look. "Perhaps it will help for a while." "Aye, aye, ma'am, Lady Ordinator, ma'am, and now that Ol' Otto is back on a crew he won't have to hear no babes carrying on at night with achey bellies, ma'am, Lady Ordinator, ma'am," responds Otto enthusiastically.

Escaping from the fog and mist, and more importantly the cold moonless night, the Lomasa nobleman steps in through the opened door to the warm tavern. It closes behind him with a thud. He looks about the room while unwrapping his cloak from his shoulders. Spotting an empty booth near the hearth and not too far (or too close) to the bard, Godric walks toward it. His felt gloves are removed from his hands as he paces across the room. "Some food and wine, yes?" he calls out to the bar keep.

Ailith nods, Otto's remark shifting the worry in her expression to something odd and unreadable. "Yes...well. Then that is all that can be asked of it, I would think." She looks down at her plate. "But I...must be on to my rest, I am afraid. Light keep you, fisherman, and Light's blessings on your kin."

"Yes, ma'am, Lady Ordinator, ma'am, Light's blessing on you and yours, ma'am, Lady Ordinator, ma'am," responds Otto before he merges with a crowd of scruffier looking patrons over at a table.

Ailith is sitting at a table eating some food. Otto is wrapped in a cloak talking to her. There is a bard singing something in a corner. Godric has moved to an empty booth, and is just sitting down as plates of steaming food and bottles of wine are being brought to him. He is red-faced, as to the cold, but is quickly bent on heating himself up.

And in sweeps another Lomasa - this one a little bit older, clean-shaven and wearing a cloak of a midnight speckled black that sweeps behind him /just so/ in a way that cannot be accidental. He moves into the room with an easy stride, already pulling off his gloves and tucking them into his belt; while he, too, has the mark of cold about him, it serves more to draw him in quickly to the fire rather than cause any real concern. His soft baritone, silken and somehow amused, preceeds him - "Spiced wine, and my usual?"

Godric's attention is perked at the voice of the new arrival: not to mention his apparent breeding and attire. He stands from his table as a plate of roast goose is brought forward, and a bottle of red wine is placed on the table. "Excuse me, my Lord," the Baron calls to Farrel. "Would you mind joining me this evening? There seems to be a dearth of company, and I should hate to eat alone." He has an easy, jovial manner about him. "Allow me to introduce myself: the baron Godric Lomasa." The introduction is made with a simple, yet cordial, bow.

Farrel quirks a brow - "Baron." His lips twist in a wry curve - almost a smile, but it doesn't, in the slightest, touch his eyes. "Cousin, rather." Curious, his course alters - "The viscount Farrel Lomasa, cousin, master of the Silver Havens, at your service. As much as I am at anyone's I suppose - pleasant evening to you."

Godric's mood increases dramatically. An open smile breaks across his face, and a lightness moves to his eyes. "Ah, a relation? Fantastic! I had not expected to meet any in Hawk's Aerie. Please, do sit." He indicates a chair, and waits for Farrel to sit before he does so himself. "Farrel, you say? Well, cousin, I am quite happy to meet you. In fact," he adds, "It is a happy coincidence, for I was speaking to Her Grace the Duchess Nillu this morning and she mentioned I ought to (how did she say it?) place myself at your tutelege, I believe. Well, that can wait for later. Wine?"

Farrel joins him - settling in across from him wih a flick of cloak and a curious expression. "The Dutchess Nillu? My tutelage? ... an intriguing notion. I've some coming, but thank you - spiced and warm is perfect for an evening such as this one." That wry smile remains, the nobleman leaning back, "As for finding me here.. .I've rooms reserve both here and at the Dove. My business often brings me into nillu lands, and Dianna is a friend - she is kind to allow me to keep myself in her demenses."

"That is quite grand," Godric says, still quite chipper. He takes hold of a goblet and, liberally pouring from the bottle, quaffs it eagrely. "Yes, yes. I had met the Duchess in Northreach and, after asking her if she was enjoying the city, she exploded into a tirade against the Regent and our Duke. I believe she said I ought to be more politic which, I do confess, I have no training or notion. We did leave in good terms, mind you, not to suggest that anything nasty had come of the matter." He is rambling. "But you see we find so little in the world of news and politics interesting in Elkmont. I do believe I am beginning to see why my old uncle Caevius was always disappointed I took little interest in study."

"Ah. So it is that you were sent to me to discuss politics - always an entertaining, if dry subject. I am not terribly surprised that Sahana has her opinions. She is, however, far more dangerous than she seems." Farrel smiles to the server, as she brings his goblet - "My thanks, Mistress - " Then back to Godric. "I suppose that holds true of many of us, however; hardly an indictment of character."

"Yes, well, I suppose the Duchess is entitled to her opinions," Godric answers, not daring to move to the familiar address. "I never thought it necessary. Of course, I never thought many things necessary until I left home two fortnight's past. Yet I thought, landless and insignificant, I could petition His Grace to support me while I do my feudal obligation to our House and bear arms, yes? That does not seem to need to be politic," Godric continues. He seems so happy to have met a relation that he quickly loosens his tongue, and drops the reservation he normally holds around outsiders. Another deep quaff of the wine is taken, and the goblet speedily refilled. He has not bothered to touch the goose.

"Ah. So you seek Knighthood? A worthy goal - if, I admit, not one I care to chase. My brother was always the armsman - I contented myself with other goals." Farrel watches him, curiously, still. "Oh, a Knight /is/ politic, my dear cousin. Perhaps moreso than a duke, as there is obligation in the promises made."

Godric scratches his sideburns. "Yes, I do suppose you are right - but then of course I suppose you are right. You do know more of the Empire than I do." He pauses to pick a bit at the goose. "You see, I do not know if you are familiar with any of our branch, but my eldest brother Falreth - now the Viscount after father's death - simply said that I needed to get out of Elkmont." He frowns. Apparently, it is a sore subject. "He was angry at my gambling debts, I think. Or that incident with the blacksmith's daughter. Either way," the Lomasa continues with a mouthful of goose, "A nobleman cannot survive on air, and I thought what better means than bearing arms for our House." In the middle of his miniature life-story, a dark cloud seems to pass over his face. He momentarily looks very old. "For I am not sure what else it is that I am capable of..." It vanishes. "I do apologise, cousin. For I have been rambling."

".. I do not mind. ramble - Elkmont..." Farrel seems speculative indeed. "Falreth - honestly? I do not know if I know him or not. I need to throw a fete and not invite him, it seems, however. Hmmmm. no matter. So - you seek your fortune, then, not merely an appointment into the Knighthood?"

"Is that not the grand scheme, yes?" the Baron muses with a chuckle. He is sitting next to Farrel in a booth having a conversation. There is food and drink before them. "I thought that, if Freelander merchants are making fortunes nigh Northreach and wearing silk, and trying to imitate those of us who are well-born, why shant I have the opportunity to raise myself, yes? I mean, my father was never a man of great fortune or prestige. The Knighthood: yes, it is an avenue."

The two nobles are at a booth. Otto is just getting up from a table with a few of less high born ilk. He starts making his way to the bar, holding his cloak wrapped around his body.

".. not an avenue to wealth. Oh, prestige, to be certain, but not wealth." Farrel raises a finger. "That is not to say it is not worth pursuing, if your tastes tend to such things, but - it will make your name, not your fortune."

"And I presume one has difficulty purchasing property without a fortune," he adds. "I do not want to end up like my uncle Caevius. His small lands were granted as a pension for his service as a Horseman. Actually, I have a letter of introduction to the Duke on his behalf. Do you wish to read it?" The young Baron seems to be very eagre to make an impression on the Viscount. To a trained eye or anyone with worldly experience, it would not be difficult to realise that the poor young man is quite lonely.

Aylina stumbles in, shivering slightly, her cloak wrapped tightly around her. She looks around the tavern and notices the comfortable booths. She slowly moves towards one that is not far from the door and settles into it. She rests her head and groans, "Only me. This would only happen to me."

The only quality Otto's eyes seem to have is laziness. He slumps over at the bar, motioning for the bar keep as he slouches low on his seat. Even the motion is slow. His boots are both unlaced and caked with mud as are the ankles of his raggedy trousers. His ears seem about as shiftless as his eyes because he doesn't seem to register Aylina's groaned comment.

Farrel Lomasa raises a hand. "no, if only because it is not a thing, cousin, intended for me." He chuckles, warmly - again, it doesn't /quite/ touch his eyes - "Save that for our ... illustrious patriarch." There's something there, but.. it fades. "Where do you stay, at the moment?" Though, admittedly, the nobleman is distracted by the door, and by Aylina's dramatic pronouncement, regarding her with that same level curiosity.

Godric keeps the letter in a warn, old leather pouch. He glances at the door and, upon recognising Aylina, reddens lightly. "Ah," he says in a lowered tone to his kinsman, "That young Baroness is the Lady Aylina Zahir. I /had/ started courting her, but I do believe she has spurned my advances. I had though perhaps to petition Her Grace the Duchess Zahir to press my claim." He pauses to bury his face in the wine cup. "Despite her lack of stature," he adds, alluding to her shortness, "She is quite haughty and arrogant. A good prospect, I should think. Though I am unsure whether she has any real claim to property as a dowry." Nearly forgetting himself, he adds a bit sheepishly, "Oh, tonight I am taking a room here in Hawk's Aerie. The bar keep told me they had one that was available. I have been drifting from inn to inn, it should seem. Wherever I can find a couple ready dicing prospects," he adds with a light laugh. His eyes do keep drifting back to Aylina. The noble seems that he wishes to say something to her.

After a few moments of more murmuring, Aylina then sits up, as is befits her rank and looks around for a tavern maid. One shortly arrives and she places an order. Aylina then takes a quick, perfunctory glance around the bar, but her eyes take nothing in. She leans her head back and sighs deeply, folding her hands in her lap, closing her eyes.

"Ol' Otto'll have some of that ol' oakknot pale, mistress. Please and thank you," Otto tells Gurl Platter with a wide grin that proudly displays the few brownish stumps of teeth left in his jaw.

Oh, Farrel notes the fellow at the bar - but he stands, fluidly - "well. Perhaps we should speak with her then. You'll of course let me put you up tonight - I'll arrange to have your rooms charged to my hand, and your meals as well - the least I can do for a gentleman of my own House. Beyond which..." He smiles. "My words carry little weight with our patriarch, I fear - a letter from me would do you little good, and may, in fact, harm your case. But, he is in Northreach, as is my primary business interest, as it stands... if nothing else, I will keep an eye on your progress. I /can/ arrange you an inn-room there, in the bargain."

Godric stands with the Viscount. "Thank you, cousin. I do appreciate your kindness," he says rather graciously. He gulps and, waving a hand before them, leads the way to Aylina's table. "My Lady Zahir," the Baron begins cordially. "Welcome to Hawk's Aerie." He bows properly. "Might I introduce my cousin the Viscount, His Lordship Farrel Lomasa?"

Otto Stonefish doesn't seem to be up to too much. He stares lovingly at his tankard of ale before lifting it to his chapped lips and taking a long draw. Setting it back down, he seems to plum forget to wipe the ale out of the drink filter and unpurification system which is his mustache. The two male nobles are edging in towards the female noble's table, conversationally.

Aylina opens both eyes and bows her head at both gentlemen, smiling at Godric before moving her gaze to Farrel. She takes him in and smiles. "My Lord, a pleasure. Lord Godric, always a pleasure. I do believe I owe you a drink. Would you care to have a seat my lords?" she politely asks.

Farrel inclines his head - "We should not impose, if you've no wish for our company tonight, Lady Zahir - " the nobleman's voice is silk - well-modulated, practiced. "But my cousin spoke of your beauty and constancy in terms that made me, I'm afraid, insistant on an introduction." He even, then, sketches a slight bow.

Adrianna enters into the Trout, her cloak wrapped tightly about her until she is moving away from the door on her way to the bar. She removes the cloak shaking it and her long raven colored hair out. She glances around the room as she moves through it a smile coming to her lips as she notices those that are sitting at the table of nobles.

"Our table is better situated by the hearth, if you wish to warm yourself, my Lady. Though I do agree with my cousin; I shant wish to impose." He pauses for a moment, ready to instruct the waitress to move his (half-eaten) Lomasa roast goose and (third-empty) bottle of wine to the new table. "Are you quite all right, Lady Aylina?" he asks, a bit concerned. The Baron's tone is different - less angry, it would seem - than the night before. "I hate to observe that you seem out-of-sorts."

Smiling at the older, smooth-talking nobleman, Aylina tilts her head, "No imposition my Lord. As I said, I do owe the Lord Godric a drink for my poor behavior yester eve." She then turns her eyes to Godric and smiles benignly, "It is only that my rented carriage should break on my way to Northreach and leave me here until the morning. A slight inconvenience." Aylina remains seated close to the edge of her side so that she can have her side of the booth to herself.

Aylina is sitting in a booth while Farrel and Godric stand nearby, conversing. Otto is at the bar, drinking his wine while Adrianna moves towards the bartop.

Otto Stonefish is at the bar, keeping company with a tankard of ale. He's got some drying ale encrusted on his mustache.

A bit dusty and more than a little weary one rather large man pushes through the doorway to the tavern. Well over six feet tall and with shoulders almost as wide, he is clad in a full suit of banded mail formed by riveted plates of shiny silver and a rather large, finely crafted steel mace hangs from his hip. As if those things alone were not enough to draw attention to the man, there's is the peculiar fact that he literally GLOWS. A white aura surrounds him entirely radiating outwards from his very skin itself, unimpaired by any clothing or armor. Infact, the plates of his mail reflect and add to this light about him.

Adrianna nods to Otto as she takes her place behind the bar and sets her cloak to one side. "Evening, Master," she says in a pleasant tone with a bright smile, "May I get you anything? Mayhap something to eat. I can whip ye up something good, or mayhap some wine I've made myself?" When Griedan steps through the door she looks over in his direction, her smile widening even more when she recognizes him, "Eveing," she calls to him, motioning him further into the room, "Come get warm," she invites before her attention goes back to Otto.

"Please but no thank you, mistress. Ol' Otto does not trust nothing rotten like he does not trust rotted grapes," Otto tells Adrianna before he catches site of something strange with the corner of his eye. He turns to fully face the doorway, gives a bit of a girly gasp, and falls off his barstool, spilling the remainder of his ale all over himself. He clutches at his chest.

Farrel Lomasa smiles then - "far be it from me, Lady Zahir, to turn away from a Lady in distress - even if that distress is mild." The nobleman considers - "I shall see that you've a room, mine, in fact, and I shall make other arrangements." He looks to Godric - "And I've still to arrange yours - perhaps I shall insist on you both joining me for breakfast. You will make certain that she finds her unexpected stay is a pleasant one, I trust?" Pointed, indeed.

Godric instructs the servants to move their food and wine to the new table and, with a graceful aplomb, seats himself across from Aylina. The sudden entrance of the silver-clad (and glowing!) man does distract his attention for several moments - causing the nobleman to openly stare - before he resumes his composure and fixes himself on the company at the table. It seems the younger Lomasa picks up quickly on the cue of the elder (they are Bulls, no?) and openly smiles to reveal two rows of strong, white teeth. "Yes, I shall make every attempt, cousin." He looks to the serving girl as she brings over his food. "Would you like some food or drink, my Lady? I have heard rumours that they have a very fine vintage here - though I must say that I am not entirely pleased with this one." He nonetheless polishes off the goblet of wine.

Smiling brilliantly, Aylina looks to the elder Lomasa, "Thank you my Lord. You are most gracious." Aylina then looks over at tall, broad man who casts a unique light in the tavern and smirks. "It seems I am not the only some what stranded person." She then slides to the middle of the booth. "And I have ordered some of their white wine, but if there are some better wines, I would be happy to taste them." Aylina makes brief eye contact with Godric before moving them to her lap where she folds her hands.

Griedan casts his doe-brown gaze over to the assembled nobles at the table and offers an incline of his head to them, particularly Farrel should he catch it. There's an occasional flicker in his irises, mirroring the aura around him, though he seems to be unaware of it. The man accepts the stares with grace as he lumbers past, apparently used to this bit whenever he walks in. As his attention moves from the nobles to the woman tending bar, a smirk creeps across his face. "Well, well...." he begins. "Where di' th' fin' such a pre'eh lass what t' work at th' bar like this, aye?" he inquires as his thumb toys with the golden ring on the third finger of his left hand. "Could make a man fergit 'is vows, 'un look at yeh."

Adrianna is about to make a retort at Otto's comment when he falls off his stool. She hurries around the bar to make sure he's alright when Griedan addresses her, a light blush coming to her cheeks as she looks to the ring on her finger as well, "Aye, Master?" she says as she looks up to him, "And where did such a handsome man as ye come from?" she asks, "Must be a gift sent by the light, aye?"

"Erg," says Otto as he sits up, rubbing his head. He stares at the spilled ale and collects his now empty tankard. Sticking out his lower lip, he holds it up to the light thoughtfully provided by Griedan and looks inside. Tilting it back, he holds his mouth open until the last droplets of ale fall into his mouth. Finished, he mumbles, "Ol' Otto needs to drink more or less. One way or 'nother, aye, aye, sure 'nuff."

And with a nod to Griedan, a browquirk at Adriana - the older of the two Lomasas moves for the stairs, chattering on with a servingman he finds along the way - "Set up my room for the lady, if you would? I'll need three, if they are open... is my cousin about? No?"

"You know," Godric casually says to Aylina. "I have been meaning to visit your Duchess. Do you know when she prefers to receive calls? She asked me to visit her the other night, and I should like to keep up the invitation." He seems to wait to see if this has any effect. A nearby serving girl catches his attention, and the Lomasa says to her (allowing his cousin to depart) "Do bring the bar keeper over, yes? I should like to speak with her." This duties finished, he leans back in the plush booth.

"To be honest, I do not know when she prefers to receive. I nearly ran her over, and that is how we met. Do you mind if I inquire as to what you wish to speak with Duchess Zahir about?" Aylina states the last question, politely but in such a way that demands a response. She smiles and tilts her head to seem as if she is merely curious.

Griedan claps a large, calloused and gauntleted hand on Otto's shoulder as he rises back onto his feet. "Well, I'll tilt 'un er two back with yeh, meh friend." he offers and takes up the stool next to the one the other man had so gracelessly vacated.

Turning his attention back to the barkeep, Adrianna, Griedan makes no pretense about looking her up and down with a grin on his face. "Sen' beh th' Light? Ah, I wouldna make s' much a pr'sumption, aye. Blessed beh th' light, per'aps. An' per'aps I should show yeh 'ow much, aye." He offers a wink and a grin at her. His hand brushes along his jawline which right now sports about two days worth of stubble. "What I wouldna give t' see such a sigh' next t' me e'ereh mornin' when I wake up."

Adrianna giggles and blushes a deeper shade of pink at Griedan's words, "Mayhap that could be arranged, m'Lord," she says coyly as she heads back behind the bar, "Mayhap ye would like something to drink of my own stash?" she asks with a wink, "Wine is all I have right now, but 'tis a very good vintage." She's about to head toward the back when one of the serving girls flags her down and indicates the table with the two nobles. With a nod she changes direction and heads toward Godric and Aylina's table.

Otto Stonefish seems vaguely taken aback at the physical contact by the large, glowing guy, but he kind of grins queesily at Griedan, saying, "Aye, aye, sure 'nuff, sure 'nuff, cap'." He sits back down on his barstool, somewhat gingerly. He doesn't bother to dust himself off. Not that it really matters.

"To call a visit," Godric says simply. He is not ready to give the game up entirely - not yet. "It is merely a matter of good breeding, my Lady Aylina. I know that you have this notion we Southern gentlemen lack these basic refinements, but I should assure you we are quite capable. Yes," the Lomasa muses, plucking at his goose, "She seems to be quite a pleasant lady. Though, like the rest of your family, I have heard other rumours: but then, what has the Empire not heard of us Bulls, yes?" He laughs a little - a musical sound - at the last remark. The Baron seems to be finding himself at a greater ease, and turns his head to look and see if Adrianna is on her way. He smiles pleasantly, "Could you recommend us some wine, Mistress? It seems my cousin has retired for the night."

Aylina plainly ignores the others in the tavern, feeling moderately uncomfortable with Godric, it being that she does not really like him. "Yes well, I hold Duchess Zahir in the highest regard. She has a firm idea about where she wants to lead the family, and I will do anything to help her. Anything." A flicker of passion appears in her eyes and fades quickly when she notices Adrianna approach.

Griedan smirks at Adrianna as she makes to move away to the other table and then looks to his companion at the bar. "I'm n' cap'ain, mas'er. Jus' a Freelan'er like yerself, aye. I'm a stonemason beh trade, but 'ad t' learn t' d' some fightin' too. Seems I'm maybeh be'er at that than shapin' stone. 'Opin' what t' get a job with 'Ouse Mikin, but I maybeh got 'un with 'un o' th Za'irs too. Seems there's some d'mand fer a sunkissed mason what can fight."

Nodding amiably enough to Griedan but not looking the man full in the face, Otto says, "Ol' Otto works for one of them hisself. The Lord of Castle Darkwater his own self, aye, aye, sure 'nuff."

Adrianna seems to consider for a moment, "I have a rather nice white wine in the back, or mayhap a red. I would have to go and check, m'lord," she says with a curtsy.

"Thank you, Mistress," Godric speaks kindly to Adrianna. He turns back to his companion. "Yes, I do look forward to my visit with the Duchess. And with Count Thayndor Zahir, as well. It is a pity that he has to be cursed with the Shadow-touch," the Lomasa blythely observes. "For he is now trapped in Northreach and, I do not believe, quite too happy. Though I am sure you know these matters, for they are your kin and not my own." He polishes off the goose, and pours himself a final cup from the wine bottle. "Should you like to finish this bottle with me, or shall we wait for another?"

"The white wine would be fine mistress. And, I am a bit famished. What pray tell, do you have that is filling and delicious?" Aylina courteously asks the barkeeper. She looks at Godric and waves at him to wait a moment while she places a food order.

Griedan nods his head at Otto, but always keeps Adrianna in the corner of his vision. "Ah, well... what are w' 'avin' t' drink t'nigh' then?" he inquires of the man. "An', aye, th' same Za'ir what's th' 'un what spoke t' me. Didna outrigh' offer me a job, but said 'e migh' wan' t'. Coun' Thayndor, aye. Seemed a good man."

Adrianna thinks about this, "I have several hand tarts prepared back there and I think some nice meat dishes, and some nice pie for dessert," she says with a bright smile to the noble woman. "And aye, the white, 'tis a good choice."

"Ol' Otto is right fine of the oakknot ale, aye, aye, sure 'nuff, mister," says Otto to Griedan as he continues to avoid making anything but the briefest contact of the other man with his own gaze. "Aye, aye, his lordship seems like a right decent sort, aye. Ol' Otto has hisself a spot on a boat again, aye."

Griedan grunts and orders up some of the oakknot ale from a passing serving girl who stops everything to get it for him. The big mason's hand engulfs the tankard and he raises it up. "A ship... dunna 'ave anathin' t' d' with them... deep wa'er an' stone... dunna mix, aye... but 'ere's t' Lord Za'ir, aye? A righ' good bloke!"

Nodding, Aylina purses her lips and says, "One of the meat dishes and a piece of the pie for dessert. Preferably a light meat, something that would be lovingly enhanced by the wine." Aylina gives her head one last firm bob and smiles, making brief eye contact with the bar keep before turning her attention to Godric.

"Ol'Stonefish is 'bout the only the only stone what mixes good with water, aye, aye, sure 'nuff," says Otto as his chapped lips part in a sickly, brown toothed grin. "To his lordship, aye, aye."

"Yes, yes. That's fine, Mistress. Whatever the Lady Zahir will like I shall also enjoy. The goose was pleasant, but I could rightly enjoy some more food." He says, obviously one with a robust appetite! "Pray, do tell me," Godric now says pointedly to Aylina, having concluded his business with Adrianna. "Where is it that you were brought up? I am not familiar with your family and upbringing. Have you any brothers?"

Adrianna curtsies politely and hurries around the bar, a wink thrown toward Griedan just before she disappears into the back.

Aylina draws her eyebrows together and wrinkles her nose. "I was raised in a small home near Fanghill Keep. It was a rented home and did not belong to my father. My mother died giving birth to me not long after they were married. I do not relish discussing my parents, perhaps you could share some details about you my Lord?" She inquires politely, folding and refolding her hands.

Griedan tips back his tankard, downing the thing in one gulp and smacks it down on the bartop with a satisfied gasp of air. "Aye, 'ere 'ere." he exclaims, and then wipes the foam off of his mouth. "Name's Griedan, Mis'er. Yer name, yeh said what that 's stonefish?"

"Otto, aye, Otto Stonefish," says Otto with a nod of his head that sets his topknot a flutter. "Good to be meeting you, Mister Griedan."

No brothers: Godric finds this positive. But rented property? His face remains expressionless. "Elkmont, my Lady Aylina," he says with some determination. "We are from Elkmont. My father has since passed this year, leaving his estate to my eldest brother Falreth. My mother still lives at the Keep. I have four brothers and a sister. Though I am the Viscount Caevius Lomasa's heir, my bachelor uncle, I feel that Elkmont is not a place I wish to - or rather I ought to remain at for the moment." The Lomasa candidly reveals these small facts of his upbringing.

Griedan nods his head in agreement with Otto. "'S good t' meet yeh then, O'o." he says. "Griedan Stone'ammer, s' guess what that w' 'ave somethin' in common, aye." he says with a grin as he orders up another ale for him and Otto, though his gaze follows Adrianna once again. The server appears to know the large mason quite well, for she seems both eager and happy to bring the drinks with haste.

Adrianna returns with a tray in her hands, a smile given to Griedan again as she passes near him on her way to the table of nobles. "It seems we have some nice honey roasted pork," she says as she sets the plates before each of them, "A glass of white wine for each of ye, and for dessert, apple pie," she adds as she sets each before them on the table.

Otto Stonefish chortles and nods a few times as a smile forms under his bristly and crumb ridden mustache, "Aye, aye, sure 'nuff, so we does at that. Good strong last names, aye, aye." He chortles some more before dragging his sleeveless arm across his mouth, "Yourn seems a fair bit more known, aye."

"Yes this does look quite delicious," Godric flashes a toothy smile to Adrianna. "Thank you, Mistress. I shall call you if we shall have further needs of your talents." He uncorks the bottle of wine, and gingerly pours two goblets before them. A glass is raised to the Zahir. "Shall you propose a toast, my dear Lady?"

Looking slightly taken aback, Aylina raises the glass and says, "Here is to the Houses Lomasa and Zahir. May they prosper and see mutual benefit in /frienship/" Aylina emphasizes friendship, for she doesn't want Godric to get the wrong idea.

Griedan returns Adrianna's smile and watches her form as she walks past him. He sighs contentedly. "Such a beau'ful lass." he murmurs, whether to himself or his companion is not quite clear.

After a moment, the big man refocuses on the conversation at hand and joins Otto in his laughter, though the mans last statement makes him peer at the other with curiousity. "I wouldna say that, meh friend. I mean... I doubt meh name is much well known outside o' Mikin lan's. Meh Fam'leh are all masons from down in Southwatch, aye." He shrugs his shoulders and raises his tankard yet again. "S' 'ere's t' th' Stonefishes, aye. May their names b'come r'nown throuh all o' Fast'eld!"

"And to mutual /friendship/," Godric answers her toast, clinging his glass with hers. He swirls the liquid about the goblet and, after raising it to his long nose to sniff the liquor, takes a sip. He seems quite pleased. The nobleman allows his blue eyes to set upon Aylina for a moment. Whatever her intentions, it is evident that the lord has his own. "Please, do not allow me to keep you from your food. You must be rather famished from the road," he offers. The goblet is placed on the table, and Godric moves to delicately start cutting and eating the roast pork.

Otto Stonefish guffaws and says, "Aye, to the Stonefishes and Stonehammers." He grins a bit as he scratches at his bare belly, saying, "Well, aye, aye, true 'nuff, sure, sure. Ol' Otto's kin more well known closer to the wharves, aye. Cannot throw a stone on some docks without it hitting one of us, aye, aye."

Adrianna curtsies again and heads back toward the bar and the two gentlemen. Moving around the bar she smiles to the two, "How are ye doing?" she asks, "Ready for another drink?" Her hand reaches across the bar and brushes lightly against one of Griedan's hands, "Mayhap a little dessert, Master?" she asks with a little wink.

If he were a prudish Nillu, Mikin, Kahar, or Zahir, he might find something offensive with the low comedy going on at the bar. Yet Godric is a Lomasa, and he cannot help but find some sidelong amusement from the antics between Adrianna and Griedan. Not that the noble makes this known to anyone of course. That would be *sniff* improper. He hides his smile underneath a hand, pretending to stifle a belch. "Excuse me, Lady. And how do you find the food?" He pauses between bites to ask this question. It seems he is enjoying his roast, and has been liberally polishing off the wine.

Griedan drinks down his second ale with Otto and sets another empty tankard down on the bar top. "Good fortune fin' yeh, Meh frien'. Ifn e'er I am up beh th' wharves, I will b' sure t' look fer yeh." he says, nodding his head. When Adrianna touches his hand, Griedan peers at her and smirks a bit. "I guess what that it d'pends on what kind o' pie it is that yeh 'ave fer d'sert, lass." he murmurs, pressing his lips against her hand and letting them linger there while he stares at her eyes.

Aylina Zahir is in the midst of chewing so she just nods her head. She has managed to finished the pork and is already diving into her pie. Clearly she was famished, but she does her best to eat at an appropriate pace. Upon finishing the bite she smiles, "It is wonderful I fear I am getting a bit tired though my Lord."

"Aye, aye," mumbles Otto to Griedan as he scoots a bar stool further away from the big, glowing guy and the vintner.

Adrianna seems to consider this for a moment, "Could be the kind for me to know and ye to find out," she says leaning in just a bit closer to Griedan, her eyes gazing into his as she smiles brightly. Seems the rest of the world is forgotten for now.

"'Ow could I turn down an offerin' o' Mystereh pie?" Griedan inquires, winking at Adrianna. "S' tell yeh what, I'm goin' t' go up stairs, t' a room an' yeh can bring yer special pie up there with yeh. Yeh know which room t' come t' I'm sure."

Godric does his best to keep up with the famished Aylina, but, as he is not as hungry, it is a bit difficult for him to eat as quickly (and therefore not put her out of place). He starts to nibble at the pie, but continues to quaff liberally at the wine. He has re-filled his cup three times now from the bottle. "Very well. I do believe your room should be prepared, my Lady. That is - when you are ready to take it."

Aylina Zahir nods and polishes off her food. "Please forgive my manners, I was more hungry then I realized. Perhaps we will break fast with Lord Farrel. Regardless, Adieu and Light keep you." Aylina stands and drops a healthy stack of coins on the table for the bar keeper and makes for the stairs, ascending them slowly.

Otto Stonefish gets to his feet and heads to the door with his unlaced boots flopping around his ankles as he makes good his retreat.

The nobleman looks a bit put off by her tipping - and the rapid departure. He does, however, maintain his dignity and decorum by standing and offering a polite bow. "Pleasant dreams, Lady," he says, and sits back down to the food. Godric polishes it off with a good pace, not eating nearly as delicately as before. He nearly guzzles the wine. After a moment, he seems ready to depart and drops a sack of coins on the table. He turns for the stairs. "Good evening, Mistress."

''Thirsty Trout - Jade Suites 05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC) 05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC)05:36, 5 December 2007 (UTC) [Indoors] [Cover: Fair] [Owner: Dianna] Larger than the regular rooms of the Thirsty Trout are the Jade Suites, a testimony to the lavish comfort that can be offered at a high class tavern. This suite is broken down into two rooms, a common room to entertain guests, and then a smaller, but equally lush bedchamber. The entirety of both rooms is made up of shades of green, from the darker, more mysterious hues to lighter and playful shades. The common room has a plush carpet spread out in a deep emerald green from wall to wall, soft and silky to the bare feet. A green velvet sofa has been placed in the room, along with a few chairs to simulate a place for people to gather and meet in private, which is set in front of a fireplace. The mantle of the fireplace is of a finely designed green marble, the rampaging bull design charging its way repeatedly across the entire border. Two windows flank the fireplace, each one with green velvet curtains held back by a golden cord. In the next room over is a small bedchamber for the guests of the suite, set up with a very large and comfortable bed at the very center. The bed itself has a canopy of deep green velvet, matched with a similarly shaded gauzy material to serve as curtains all around, to give those within some privacy. The comforter and blankets on the bed are sage green, to match the rest of the room's color. In the corner of the room is a comfortably sized bathtub, screens surrounding it for modesty. You appear to be alone here. A oak writing desk is here. An oak bed is here. An oak wardrobe is here. A gold-footed iron bathtub is here. A green velvet oak sofa is here. A green velvet oak chair is here.''

Aylina Zahir is half in the state of undress, humming to herself.

The door handle turns slowly and, with a creaking sound, it opens to allow the nobleman to walk inside. He yawns to himself, and gazes about sleepily looking for a place to take off his boots. He starts to unclasp his cloak, and moves to throw it on one of the sofas. Godric continues to walk forward, and moves to enter the bedchamber: it seems that he was not expecting to be in the wrong room!

Aylina Zahir turns around and squeals quite loudly. "My Lord Godric! Please, oh Light watch over me!" She then hurriedly lifts the dress to cover her exposed skin, creamy pale flesh still visible. Aylina's lustrous hair covers most of her back, but the small is exposed and she rushes over to the tub with it's screens, attempting to conceal herself.

A look of dumb realisation flashes across the poor noble's face. There is also a dumb grin, not expected, but entirely inappropriate. One could surmise that he has been in such situations before. "My - My apologies, Lady! The footman said that I was to use this room," he stammers, awkwardly, and bows swiftly. The lord soon recollects himself, and turns his back to the Zahir. "I did not mean to... Good night!" He adds, and seems to be looking about for the door.

Aylina Zahir feels her skin turn scarlet. "It.. erm.. it's okay Lord Godric. Have a pleasant rest," Aylina says, hoping against hope he didn't see her small bust or flat stomach. She then waits to hear the door close and makes a mental note to lock doors henceforth.

The Lomasa certainly did! He walks out of the room with the sound of loud boot steps, completely forgetting his cloak draped over a couch. With her image still fresh in his mind - and what a sight! - the nobleman fumbles with the door handle and, after finally getting the damn thing open, swiftly exits the room. A resounding sound can be heard as he hurriedly closes the door.