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[Sadie Sundown]

17th of Winter, 518AV
20th Bell, Evening

A simmering sound came from a pot that sat on one of the cooking fires, and subsided for a mere few heartbeats as Sadie added some warmed water to the stew, before it returned to its contented simmer.
The kitchen fires kept the room warm as she set about preparing food for the night's guests. It was just the beginning of her eight bell-long shift, having just relieved one of the other cooks from a shift of his own, and it felt good to be putting her hands to use.

Her day leading up to work had consisted mostly of sleeping at home, though she had hung around the bar for a bell or two before her shift. Getting to know some of the Foot's regulars seemed to be a good idea, especially since she intended to stick around for as long as possible. Although she had only started cooking at the Pig's Foot not even a quarter of a season ago, she had already begun to grow used to the rhythm of prepping, cleaning, checking on what was cooking, and portioning out the meals. Some nights were busier than others, however this evening was neither too busy nor too calm, perhaps due to the recent unrest that had taken place in the Western Heights, a nasty business if she was to judge by the rumours and conversations she had overheard within the tavern and even in the streets. They were the sort of tales that would leave a sour taste in one's mouth and put anyone into a bad mood, so she banished them from her thoughts and rolled up her sleeves in preparation to scrub some dishes.

Dishes. The one thing that she both enjoyed and hated at the same time. On one hand, it was extremely satisfying to serve up a full meal and have the dishes come back empty, or nearly so, and at times, the rhythm of scrubbing could be rather relaxing. On the other hand, there were times where what was brought back made her want to gag, or better yet, through the dish into the fire. Worse even still, were the sorry bastards that sent back dishes with food still yet on their dishes; she detested those sorry petchers to the fiery pit of her stomach. There were more than enough people starving in this city.

At least her current batch held no such remains, so she hummed as she scrubbed and rinsed, scrubbed and rinsed- dunking the utensils and dishes alike into a hot basin of water as she did and picked up the next from yet another basin of water, which kept most traces of food from hardening. After ten chimes or so, she had finished with a decent pile, which she set to dry before washing off her hands.

“Got some mouths to feed!” called a hearty voice from the direction of the bar, one of the barmaids.
“What'a they want?" Sadie called back, wiping her hands dry with a rag that she kept tucked in her apron.
“Two bowls of stew, an' bread to go with 'em,” other woman paused, “make that three!”
“Coming right up!” Dee replied, and grabbed three dry bowls from a pile by a set of trays, before she headed towards the simmering pot.

Tonight's fare was a decently appetizing stew, something that was difficult for anyone to really mess up. Meat, potatoes, and perhaps some sort of vegetable, add in some seasoning, and you were set to win. Sadie set down the tray and bowls on the nearest counter and picked up the ladle that hung beside pot, then set about portioning out the food as evenly as she could; she aimed for just under an inch or so below the rim. She placed each filled dish on the tray, picked it up once done and swiped three single servings of bread from a basket on her way to the kitchen's entrance.

"Got your three stews with bread!" she called, holding the tray in both hands for balance and waited for a barmaid to collect them.

Thoughts, Common, Fratava, Vani
~Thank you for letting me base this on one of your templates, Regime!

[Daedalus Dagwood]

17th Day of winter, 518 A.V.

When you wanted to be the best, you learned from the best. Or stole from them. In any case, Daedalus currently found himself at The Knight's Armoury standing in front of a wall covered in racks of weapons while talking to the young face of the business, Nathaniel Frobisher.

“Daedalus, you can’t just keep coming in here without buying anything.”

Daedalus smirked and ran a hand across the flat side of a kopis that he held. "A truly fine taper. And the patter in the metal? It feels like wrought iron layered into soft steel. The pattern is beautiful."

The Metalsmith in him was starting to show as he contemplated making his own patterned metal blades. Meanwhile, Nathaniel shook his head while sweeping the shop. "Its just a blade, buy it, then adore it on your own time." Daedalus started to run his fingers along its length to measure it. His mind gauging from how the wooden handle protruded how long the tang must be.

"See Nathaniel, being around high quality work all the time had blinded you to the effort put into making the metals for your craft. Imagine using folded nickle into iron how nice the armor you'd make would look." He held the kopis up to examine it straightness. His eye following along the curvature of its spine.

His fingers caressing the grip of the handle high to see how the quillons of the guard protected them. Daedalus loved coming to the Knights to learn about the anatomy of a new blade through first hand interaction. He then set the weapon back onto the rack before picking up buckler next to it. A quick fixing of buckles strapped it to his forearm. "I'll take this then. It has your makers mark on it. How much?"

That caught Nathaniel off guard as Daedalus never bought anything. "Thirty gold." It was a price so high that Daedalus nearly took the shield off to throw at him. "There is not enough steel on this thing to be worth that. You and I sell greatswords which go for near that price. Who are you trying to trick?" Nathaniel leaned on the handle of the broom, then nodded.

"Fine, its fifteen for the buckler." Daedalus took the money from his belt pouch and handed him the money which was begrudgingly taken. He then held out a hand towards the Armorsmith. It was an action that was received as they shook hand before the Metalsmith walked away.

***

Daedalus stopped by the Pig's foot for a drink since it was already getting late. He walked through the door as a young woman called out about three stews with bread. Daedalus had the look of a man who'd been too close to the slag heap. The arms of his coat were littered with pockmarked signs of burns from cinders. The collar of his shirt underneath it held the same. He was by no means dirty, but it was clear he was a man that spent lots of time around fire. His left hand which now wore the new buckler rested on the twisted hilt of a rapier.

The backpack he wore jostled with the sounds of metal as he made his way to an open table, then took it off once he sat down.

Daedalus pulled out a book, quill, vial of ink, and a forearm sized block of lumber. The latter of which he all arranged around his now open book. He took up the quill in hand then set it to ink before making notes about the measurements of the kopis.

"The length of recurved blade is twenty small fingers, the overall length is near twenty six. Grip can be full wood pinned to the tang, or side plates of alloy to give the grip a considerable amount of weight on the back end. Or added point for back hand stabbing."

He then reset the quill to the ink before drawing the vague shape of a kopis blade. Once he'd gotten that off of his mind, Daedalus glanced around towards one of the bar maids. He spotted Sadie then motioned her over to him even though she was still holding food.

[Sadie Sundown]

Conversations greeted her ears as she cast her gaze around the tavern.
'I wonder where that broad wander off to...'
As she searched the through the crowd of people from the kitchen doorway, a lone man caught her eye with a purposeful gaze of his own and made a gesture to her as though to call her over.
'Must think I'm one of the servers,' she grumbled to herself. She couldn't blame him though, after all, she was by the bar, holding a tray. As her luck would have it, it seemed as though all of the barmaids were somehow occupied; either serving drinks, caught in partially unwilling conversation, or trying to catch someone's eyes.
'Alrighty then, guess I'm on it,' she thought. Sadie placed the tray on the bar before ducking her head back into the kitchen.
“Will you be alright without me for a few chimes?” she called to the other kitchen staff. “It seems the barmaids are bit tied up at the moment.”
“As long as it a few chimes doesn't become half a bell,” one of the cooks called back in a teasing tone.
“Thanks!”
Turning back to the tavern proper, she finally made eye contact with the barmaid who had placed the orders, and gestured to the tray on the bar, and received a quick nod of confirmation in return.
“Well then, let's see what he wants,” she breathed as she made her way over to the man who had motioned to her.

He was a large fellow, though not of the kind who loved food a bit too much. He appeared to be taller than the average man, and his build was much more similar to the men who worked at the docks or some other form of hard labour, though his darker toned skin did not seem to be a result of the sun. From the state of his coat, it seemed as though he worked near fires, as she had seen some similar signs on more than a few cooks.
'Perhaps he's a smith or something of the sort,' she deduced, '... though I could be very wrong.... no matter.'
As she approached, she notice that his eyes were a light hazel brown.

Sadie placed a business smile on her lips just as she arrived at his table.
“Hello there, sorry for the wait. What can I get for you?” she asked.

Thoughts, Common, Fratava, Vani
~Thank you for letting me base this on one of your templates, Regime!