[Silver Sliver] Sing Us A Song [Tycho]

[Cassandra Coven]

"Excellent choice, sir. I'll make sure you get the tenderest cuts for you meat," Cassandra promised the bearded man, throwing a wink his way before turning to his tall companion. She caught him observing her before he looked back down to his drink, and that old fear of thinking that the Black Sun were watching her again took hold of the barmaid's spine. But no, the man seemed only to be appreciating her looks and, truly, she had never him before until today. She would know; she made a habit of knowing every person who passed through the tavern's door. Surely the man must be new to the city. Her suspicions were confirmed when he asked for kelp beer. "You're Zeltivans?" Cassandra gasped in awe. She allowed a little bit of that city's local accent to creep into her voice, though she had to admit her tone must be off as she had not spoken that way for almost a decade now. Her smile grew wider and she offered a hand, delicate despite the work she did with it and a fingerless glove adorning it, for them to shake, first to the man she had last spoken to and then the bearded man. "How do you do? I'm Cassandra, Cassandra Coven. I'm from there myself, though I haven't been back home for...quite a while now. How is our fair city?" She did not mind giving her full name, doubting that either man would know of the tragic story of the Coven family, especially since the scandalous part of it had been kept from the public for the most part. Except for the murder. But then her mother had changed her name at the time and if ever these two caught wind of that story, they would associate it to another family. "No kelp beer here, sadly. I don't know how you men can stand the smell!" she teased. "My father used to say it reeked of fish, but then he'd acquired taste for finer drink in his travels. But please! Your first mugs of the Sliver will be on me...consider it a gift from a fellow Zeltivan!" She smiled at both of the men, if only to express that the offer was genuine. "If you find that you like it, you can order for a refill. I promise that our Sliver does not disappoint." Bowing at the two, Cassandra excused herself to get their orders. She had initially planned to arrange one of her little 'accidents' on one of them, on the tall one perhaps, he seemed like the least between them to take offense at it. It was a guilty habit she had taken up after living with the Vexation mark for so long - even with her side job torturing criminals at Trevinus' request (which she found distasteful and rather disturbing, to say the least), Cassandra still could not help herself when it came to causing little pains to other people - like 'accidentally' stepping on their toes, or 'accidentally' grazing their heads with her wooden tray, or even 'accidentally' splashing boiling hot gravy on exposed flesh (a favorite for her, one she did on her fellow barmaids when helping to prepare meals). But these were Zeltivans, not Rhysol-worshiping Ravokians who deserved it, and so the dark-haired woman decided to stay her hand for now. Her mark will be satisfied running blades lightly on a criminal's skin once she got off work, after all.

[Hadrian]

Bemused that his ruse of half-truths was holding up under scrutiny, he smiled a bit and nodded, letting a bit of an acquired dialect sneak into his speech. He shook her hand, his own a bit rougher for the blacksmithing he had taken up in Syliras in an attempt to learn the 'craft' part of magecrafting and from the general chores required in traveling through the wilds from Syliras to its enemy-state. But it was still a scholar's hand, soft and fair for the most part, fingers long and elegant, fit for surgery or artistry. Or the delicate maneuvers required for certain magics, but they didn't need to know that. "Andry Ellis. I have been traveling almost constantly since late last Spring," he admitted, but when I left it was still lovely in the summer, chilling in the winter, full of sailors and scholars... the jewel of the East. But surely you're not a Zeltivan... the taste for kelp beer is in the blood." He chuckled, again quietly pleased that Andry Ellis was more loquacious, more affable than Hadrian Aelius. "I appreciate the gift," he said. "Perhaps you can join us for the second round?" When she was gone to fetch her generous gift, he turned back to Tycho, again bemused. "Of all the bars in all of Ravok, who would have thought three Zeltivans would gravitate toward each other so quickly?"

[Tychonius Nioni]

Tycho listened, smiling, to the conversation between Andry and Cassandra. Zeltivans, both. How funny. He enjoyed this man with whom he was sitting, enjoyed his company and his smiles and his somewhat quiet and interested air. When Andry suggested the barmaid, the cute barmaid, join them for the second round, Tycho nodded eagerly. "Yes, Yes, do." Tycho said happily, trying to hide the tone of excitement in his voice. Tycho found himself immensely excited to drink for free. Gifts excited Tycho. Something about giving. Giving made Tycho giddy. Having been raised without a father, and without too much money, Tycho found himself not giving things as often as he gave of himself; he supposed this is why he had decided to hone a rather simple talent of voice. "I certainly wouldn't've." Tycho let himself laugh, he leaned back, slinging an arm over the side of his chair and leaning to the side. "But, hey; the world is small. Small, small. Far too small, probably. I'd bet there are Zeltivans in the furthest reaches of the furthest corners of Mizahar, and I'd bet we would find each other there too. Or I'm wrong. Tycho shrugged, putting on a mask of ponderous uncertainty, a rarity on his face, and then quickly swapped it with a certain and excited grin. "Or I'm wrong. It's probably that. I'm wrong often, you know." Tycho laughed at himself and tapped his foot happily to an unheard tune.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian smiled, leaning back in his chair, relaxing a bit. Andry could handle these things, these social situations, with much greater ease than Hadrian could. It didn't occur to him just yet that this was sounding dangerously close to multiple personalities... "Well, Zeltivans discovered far off Denval when it had been unknown to the rest of the world... So we know we're in several regions of the continent." Still smiling, he considered the songster and then slowly began to reach out with his aura, pulsing with hypnotic will, to give his own aura a bit of a nudge. He wasn't trying to control him, but he could See how the relaxation, the excitement, and all was causing him pleasure, and Hadrian tried to nudge his feelings further in that direction, augmenting the pleasure of good company. With luck, Tychonius would associate Andry with good times and good places, which would be helpful if things went south and Hadrian needed help extricating himself and his people from Ravok on the double. "You're probably wrong," he agreed, jokingly. "Obviously the gods have thrown us together for some great purpose... Were we anywhere but Ravok, I would make a joke about taking over the place, but I think they wouldn't appreciate that sentiment, even in jest. So remember that even after a few more Silvers, all right?" He grinned.

[Tychonius Nioni]

Tychonius nodded and wagged his finger to the sky as Andry made the comment about Denval. Tychonius felt happy, relaxed. He had never felt so close to that point that all taverns across the world promise, that point of comfort and hearth away from home. He tapped his foot happily to a quick and fast music he heard within the confines of his mind. Andry looked happy too, and this contributed to Tychonius' happiness. He found himself enjoying himself more when others were enjoying themselves. Andry was relatively easy to spur into smiles, he seemed quick to it, quick to be happy given some prompting. But only some, which was refreshing. The banter had grown to a healthy amount, and Tycho shifted his butt int he chair to be a bit more comfortable. "Yes, indeed, indeed. I will remember! It's true, these people are very, very loyal to this figure, aren't they? It's a tad scary and I can't help but feel... feel-" Tychonius grasped for a metaphor, "-feel as if a boulder sits above me on some precarious point, ready to fall, and I have no idea what it is that will make it fall, but something tells me that the slightest movement in the wrong direction, and I'm done." Tycho went silent for a moment, his grin suddenly shifting and becoming empty, a little despairing. He remembered mother. As soon as he remembered, he forced himself to forget. His grin grew, perhaps bigger than what it had been before, and he laughed before he said, [color=#B0B0B0]"Which is why I'm so grateful to have found you! Zeltivan, brother, knowledge seeker, noble champion of truth!" As he said the list, he grew more and more lofty, affecting his voice and posture, until, when he had finished, his hand was aloft in the air lazily holding up an unseen strip of cloth over his forearm, and his face a caricature of self-importance. Then he broke into laughter.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra returned in no time, her wooden tray now laden with lambchop that still sizzled on the plate it rested on, its juices soaking the side of the warm loaf of bread that sat beside it. A small tub of rich gravy and two large mugs filled to the brim with the Sliver completed her load. The mouth-watering aroma of the meal alone sent appreciative glances from the other patrons her way. She winked at them before making her way to the table of the two Zeltivans. She caught the bearded man in the middle of a hearty laugh and she could not help but be infected by his mood. A full grin splayed upon her lips as she used the edge of their table to support the loaded tray. "Enjoying ourselves, I see," she noted as way of greeting. The barmaid quickly distributed the drinks between the two men while the full plate she set before Tychonius. She fished a knife and fork from one of the pockets of her apron, wiped them with a clean rag pulled from another pocket, before handing them handles first to the bearded man. "Sorry for the long wait," she crooned. "I hope you find your orders to your satisfaction." Remembering the men's invitation earlier, Cassandra pulled a chair from one of the unoccupied tables nearby and sat down between the two, flashing a somewhat embarrassed smile at her rather awkward entrance. "I could stay for a bit of a chat, but I may have to leave once we get more people in here. The regulars don't like to wait, you see. "It's lucky you got here at this time, the place is usually packed the rest of the day." Cassandra paused for a moment to glance at the door, and then at the rest of the tavern, noting where the other barmaids were and eying the bartender. Socializing with the patrons for too long was frowned upon, not unless they were willing to pay for the barmaid's time, but she did not want to impose such a fee on these two. "So, what brought you two fine gentlemen to this, ah, fair city?" The emphasis on the word was a calculated move, one she made to elicit a certain reaction from the two men. If they knew of the dark nature of Ravok, then she had just tipped them off that she was well aware of it as well, and as such ingrain herself into their confidence. If they did not, then none would be the wiser and she could just pass it off as a stutter in her speech. Her tone and manner of delivery, however, would make it seem like she was concerned with the welfare of her fellow Zeltivans. To a certain degree perhaps it was truth, though if she was to be honest with herself, while she was just paid to serve drinks and entertain customers, Cassandra still kept her eyes and ears open for anything interesting she may come across in the tavern. She never knew when she might pick up something that she could use to buy into the good graces of the Black Sun in general, and Trevinus Nitrozian in particular, after all. Settling down, the dark-haired woman clasped her gloved hands together and folded them on her lap, away from sight. Her smile came into play once more, open and inviting, as she tried to draw the men to speak of their purpose in Ravok.

[Hadrian]

Andry shrugged, his smile fading from its former glory into something more stoic and staid. "Ostensibly, I'm looking for trade opportunities. We always end up with food shortages in Zeltiva and I'd like not to lose any more citizens to winter than necessary. But I also spent a deal of time studying anthropology at the University, and wanted to see Ravok for myself. Quite the different philosophy from the, ah, other fair city." Syliras called itself good, but he was not so blind as to imagine that one place was entirely good or entirely evil. That said, he had no wish to run into Rhysol, the Druvin, the Voice, or the Ebonstryfe. Nor the Black Sun. If they left him be, he certainly wasn't plotting their downfall. The only thing that would rile him into violence was a threat to his friends or a march on his family. "Boring, I suppose. And you, miss? The songster's tale is probably obvious." He grinned.

[Cassandra Coven]

"That's admirable," Cassandra gushed with genuine appreciation to Andry's words, almost reaching out to give the man's hand a squeeze to convey her feelings on the matter. She stopped midway through the action, however, and just lowered her gloved hand down the table. They were still strangers after all. But she knew quite well the conditions back in Zeltiva: a city that made itself wealthy with its monopoly on ship-building and sea transportation yet unable to feed the mouths of its populace with all the money they generated. Thus had it grown dependent on the more self-sustaining Syliras by importing foodstuff from the walled city. Cassandra herself had never experienced the strain on the availability of food, at least when her father had still been alive, but she did become aware of it growing up. There was a pause in the conversation as the minstrel excused himself to find the restroom, allowing Cassandra to compose her answer to Andry's query. His mention of Syliras made her a little wary, wondering if he's ever caught news of the dark deed she had been responsible for, though she had hoped that it was buried under all the other, more pressing concerns of the city. Yes, that's probably what happened. The knights would have long caught her if they suspected her of the murder, though now that she thought about it, fleeing the city did give the impression of being guilty. Which she was. At any rate, Andry's question sounded casual enough so the dark-haired barmaid relaxed back into her chair. "Oh, you know, just escaping from family troubles," she said offhandedly, forcing a laugh to go with it. She never really discussing her past with others anyway, especially not strangers. It was too dark. Too dark. Her reply was partly true at least. "Moved to Syli... I mean, that other fair city when I was younger, left some emotional baggage there...you know... girl stuff... and made my way here eventually. To make my own destiny, if you want to be dramatic about it." She gestured at her getup, to the apron in particular in all its ale- and gravy-stained glory. "It hasn't exactly been the life I dreamed of, but I make do." She smiled back at Andry. Her tongue may seem loose but she hadn't exactly revealed much about herself. She did hope that the act would, in turn, make the man talkative as well. "So! You studied at the university! They have a place around here that might interest studious types like, the Institute of...um...something or other...I heard they taught magic over at that place, can you believe it..." Her voice lowered as she said the last part before it returned to its normal volume. "Anyway, have you been to the place? If you'll be here for a while, I can show you around." Her smile deepened, showing her dimples, her expression open and inviting. Few men had been able to resist it in her experience. Surely it would be no different to Mister Andry here. While it was just a friendly offer, Cassandra had to admit to herself that she did enjoy the company of men. Especially those who seemed wealthy enough - or skilled enough - to afford to travel from place to place. "Oh, and your friend too, of course!" she added, almost as an afterthought. OOC Note : Ok, didn't want to hijack the thread but I didn't want it to go to waste, so I just wrote off Tycho for now. He can always step back in if he returns.

[Hadrian]

"I can understand escaping family troubles," he said knowingly with a toss back of Silver to punctuate his empathy, eyes rolling and mouth smiling sadly after he swallowed down the sweet ambrosia. "i'm sorry about that. We're part of the same club. I've even spent time in Syliras too. I wonder if I went back now if they'd put me on the rack for even visiting." He chuckled into his cup, but then he laughed his way right out of it. "I didn't come all this way to study more, but I suppose if you want to at least show me the place, I can admire the architecture. Though the pre-Valterrian architecture in Zeltiva is awfully impressive. Even took a class on it: art history. I could tell you more about caryatids than you would ever want to know..." He looked after Tycho at her promise to show him too, but shrugged. Hadrian wasn't sure he wanted to make any permanent connections here. That could only be dangerous; and besides, he wasn't exactly an accomplished spy. He was having some luck pretending to be this Andry Ellis, but eventually he would slip, and he didn't want the others to suffer for his foolishness. "As a Zeltivan, I'm sure you'll agree with me, though." He grinned, telling himself to slow down with the Silver. A comely woman such as this didn't need Silver to bewitch him, but she plied him with it. That could be dangerous in more ways than one.

[Cassandra Coven]

"Carya...tids?" Cassandra echoed, her face taking on a blank look, the expression summing up her knowledge of what Andry was talking about. It was no use pretending to have an inkling of what it was he had just said so she did not try, knowing she would just embarrass herself. Instead she laughed, self-deprecating, and made a motion with her hand as if something just flew above her. "That was a little over my head," she admitted with a short giggle. "A building's good enough for me as long as the roof doesn't fall on top of my head! But then, all I really know is to serve food and drinks and look pretty!" Again, there was another round of giggles from her. A brief glance at the bar and Cassandra noticed the bartender staring at her, a frown on his face. It looked as if he had been trying to catch her attention for a while now. "...which I think I better get back to doing, or I'll be in a heap of trouble. So sorry to cut this conversation short; I really enjoyed talking with you!" She flashed Andry a genuine smile before standing up and pushing back the chair she sat on under the table. "If you're still interested in my offer, I'm sure we can arrange for a little sightseeing on your next visit here. I'm always around. If I'm not, you can find me across the plaza, I stay at the Boarding House. Just ask Tarsin for Cassandra. Pleased to meet you and your friend!" With a final wink at Andry, Cassandra took off, weaving through the the other tables to wait on a couple of new arrivals. [ooc=OOC]As agreed with Hadrian, we'll just end this thread since Tycho's gone and just make a new one for ourselves.