Open [The Rearing Stallion] Noisy Night

[Asher Claveson]

Summer - 50 - 515 AV

The evening was cool, as far as summer nights went, and Asher almost reached for his coat before leaving the apartment. It felt much cooler to him, though only for that moment he woke up from his nightmare, the memory of the caves sinking into his skin and keeping him restless. Asher once thought that he was alone in allowing the Storm to linger in his mind, in giving it the power to hurt him. But as he found out only recently, some people were still trying to put their lives back in order. Few of those people were native to Syliras, but those who were still struggling came from places that were much worse off. It was rumored a whole city was lost to the Storm, which sounded impossible, but Asher wasn't inclined to discredit something merely because he thought it impossible. There was a time he didn't think he'd ever have a marriage, that he was too useless to be able to provide for a wife like he should. It never occured to him until he met Meyarra that he had to be the only one providing, and that he was anything but useless.

Though dwelling on thoughts of his wife did not help in easing the terror and the cold that woke him up. That was why he was wandering aimlessly in the evening. He did start to question the logic behind his actions, though, when he found his feet carrying him into the Rearing Stallion. He didn't want to become a drunk, to drown his grief in something temporary, and he knew that it would be quite easy for him to do so. Kevith ran a respectable business, but the hustle and bustle often meant the barmaids lost track of how many mugs of beer were delivered to which tables. It was a test of will to turn away from a fourth mug, and often Asher believed he would fail such a test.

Apparently tonight was different.

The noise of the tavern was somewhat subdued, which was to be expected so late at night. Asher made his way to a table where he thought no one would try to approach him, and where the barmaids could overlook him and thus keep him from drinking himself under the table. Seth, Kevith's son, quickly caught sight of him and walked over with a polite smile on his face. "Bit late for you, isn't it?"

Asher gave a small smile, more a bare upturn of his lips, before responding, "Yeah, bit late. I'll only be drinking a mug or two, though, not to worry."

"What can I get you, then? We've some Old Ale and Foreign Style Stout. We have our standard pale and dark beers, as well. Or are you looking for some wine tonight?"

Asher shook his head, "No thank you. Just a mug of Foreign is good."

Seth nodded. "That'll be coming your way soon. Have a good evening, sir."

"You as well." It was rather odd to be speaking with Seth outside of Knight business. Seth had become a page just as Asher was inducted into squirehood. They didn't know each other well - Asher only knew his name thanks to previous visits to the tavern - but they were in the same circles long enough that they could have a semblance of familiarity between each other, as it was now. Asher had not much time to reflect on it, because true to Seth's word, a barmaid soon came over to set the ale in front of him. Before she could move on to the next table, Asher asked her, "How much more can I pay to make sure no more than two mugs make it to my table tonight?"

The barmaid frowned slightly. "Usually people ask for the other way around."

Asher nodded. "I understand, I just need to make sure that I don't go ho- that I don't leave stumbling."

"I can tell the other girls, we'll try to keep track. Or I can make sure I'm the one who comes back with your ale?"

"Whatever works easiest for you, thank you. How much do you want?"

She shook her head, "Just pay for the ale, and you'll be fine, dear." She gave a soft smile before she moved on.

Asher sighed, feeling some relief wash over him before he took a sip from the mug. Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult, after all. He could sit here, allow the noises to wash over him, and let the drink give him enough of a buzz that sleep would be easier for the night. It was something to look forward to, the prospect of an uneventful evening.

[Larka Faux]

Season of Summer, Day 50th, 515 AV

Larka quietly padded down the empty street that lead into Traveler's Row. The city was, for the most part, silent yet if someone were to walk up or around Larka he would have not noticed a thing due to how engrossed he was in his thoughts. Everything was so new to him. Just being surrounded by the high city walls gave him a sense of adventure and he wanted nothing more than to take off in a random direction just to see where it takes him. However the guard has told him to follow the road and he'd be at Traveler's Row in no time. Sure enough he soon found himself immersed in a large collection of buildings all clumped together each one showing a different scene. Here things began to get noisier as shouts could be heard in the distance and the typical drunken revelry echoed through the night. As he looked around at the various buildings he realized he had no clue which one was the White Swan Inn. Each building had a sign to distinguish themselves from the others, yet this wasn't going to be able to help him as he had no idea how to read. Plus many of the signs merely had only pictures on them and no words.

Looking around with a small blossom of panic blooming in his chest Larka chose the building closest to him. Outside there was a sign of a horse rearing up and below the horse was a word he couldn't read. Larka quickly calmed himself and pulled up the hood of his cloak before entering the building. The door swung open with barely a hint of a creak as Larka quickly walked inside. He couldn't tell if any heads have swung in his direction yet he could almost imagine stares like daggers prodding into him which made him think of the guard's words about how it wasn't completely safe at night. Glancing around Larka took in as much of the room as he could before making his way up to the bar counter where an elderly man was standing interacting with the various patrons that sat at the counter with mugs in their hands.

"Is this the White Swan Inn?" He asked the elderly man as he approached the counter.

The elderly man diverted his attention from one of his patrons and turned slightly to face Larka, "No this is not." He said briefly.

"Ah, I see. Well do you have any rooms I can stay in?" he asked quietly under the stare of the man. The man seemed nice enough and his voice didn't sound threatening so Larka began to lose some of the tension he had built up upon entering the tavern.

"No I do not." The man responded with an answer just as brief as the previous one.

"Oh, erm, well do you know where I can find the White Swan Inn? Also do you serve food here? If so how much would a meal cost as I'm quite hungry. I'll head to the inn once I'm finished with my food." He asked all together since he assumed if he just asked everything one by one he would just continue to get short, simple answers back.

"Yes we do serve food here. Dinner's six silver mizas, and we serve house specials so you get what you get. Find a table and sit down. As for the White Swan Inn it's just down the street a ways." The elderly pointed in a general direction and gave Larka further directions to the inn.

After the man turned his attention back to his tavern Larka took the hint and began looking about the room for an empty table. In a particularly empty part of the tavern he noticed a man sitting by himself. A barmaid had just dropped off a mug to his table and he watched as he talked with her for a brief moment before letting her go back to her business. While one part of him felt as though he shouldn't get mixed up with the people here. Another part urged him to talk with this man. The man looked deep in thought and Larka really wanted to know more about this man. His curiosity was quite the strong impulse, and this man seemed far more approachable than the others in the tavern. Plus it looked to be in a rather unnoticeable section of the tavern so he didn't think he'd pull too much attention. Ignoring the small voice in his head that told him just to find his own table Larka immediately started towards the man.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" He politely asked, a small smile forming on his face.

[Moxie]

Moxie visited the Rearing Stallion regularly, as it was a good place to earn a few Miza for fortune telling. As she finished up with a man, who walked off a bit forlorn obviously not liking what she had to say, she saw a young man walk through the door. He had a strange look about him, something different. She could not place her finger on it but there just was something strange about him. She over heard him asking if this was the 'White Swan Inn' and she frowned. He was obviously new to the area and had become lost. It was a vast city after all, she remembered she too was a lost soul at one time. She veered her attention else where, glancing around the tavern. After a few moments the strange looking boy had disappeared, she glanced around and her eyes connected with a familiar face.

She squinted her eyes and gasped, No.. it could not be.. is that? He better not be! The Konti's pearl like skin flushed a light pink color as she became angry at what she was seeing. The small woman leaped from her table fiercely, the chair hitting the floor, stomping her small feet on the floor as she made her way to that familiar man. She rushed over to where Asher was sitting and snatched the mug from his hands as he was raising it to his lips for a drink, "What you think you doing!?" She exclaimed in a tone that was not like her softness, it was a bit forceful laced with shock. "Remember I say.. It good not to find you self at end of bottle, but here you are. No." She said the last part firmly, stealing the mug from his grasp and holding it up and away from her. Coming from someone as petite as her it was a bit strange to see such a angry force. Her and Asher knew one another, he would notice that this was out of character for her as she was soft spoken and kind in their encounters.

Moxie had grown fond of the man though and considered him a friend, she did not want to see him harm himself, or drank away his sorrows. She realized he had a companion with him, the strange boy who she saw earlier from her table, this made her flush a bit more as she did not realize she had such a close spectator to her outburst. She glanced back to Asher, her violet eyes piercing his as she awaited his explanation of his folly here at the Rearing Stallion, still holding the mug away from him although since he was big taller he could easily grab it back.

[Asher Claveson]

A voice pulled him out of Asher's musings, and he glanced up to see a young face. He looked rather strange, perhaps was mixed blood, but Asher supposed everyone looked a little strange in their own ways. As it was, the boy was polite, a little nervous but smiling all the same. Asher glanced around, noting the tables that were still empty, such as some near the fireplace. He raised a brow, looking back at the boy, before shrugging. "I suppose it couldn't hurt." So much for a quiet night, then. He guessed he could endure it politely, make some small talk while he finished this mug, and then go his way.

The boy settled in at the other side of the table, and Asher contemplated what to ask. The boy seemed rather exhausted himself, as if he'd been traveling all day. He could ask after that, then, see what brought him to Syliras. He was just about to take a fortifying sip and start in on that, only to have the drink wrenched from his hands. He startled when he heard a familiar voice, no doubt attached to the thieving hand, exclaim, "What you think you doing?? Remember I say... it good not to find you self at end of bottle, but here you are. No," The last came as he tried to reach for the drink, and Moxie only lifted the mug higher above her flushed face.

It was strange to see her so angry, her violet eyes glaring at him accusingly. And he knew she meant well, but he was tired, trying to make himself even more tired, not drunk like she was assuming, and now more than ever he wished to be back in his bed, to have never had that blasted nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, and grumbled, "Little girl, had you been anyone else, I would have punched you. Stealing men's ale like that, really." He shook his head and went back to Common when he explained, "I'm not drinking myself under the table, Moxie. I couldn't sleep and was going to only drink a mug or two before going back to bed. Here," he motioned to the barmaid who served him earlier, who also happened to be bringing the boy's food - the same boy who was staring wide-eyed at the spectacle the Konti was making. "Miss, what's the deal we have going about the drinks?"

The barmaid eyed Moxie warily, as she was still flustered with anger, and said, "No more than two. I bring the other mug to him if he asks for it, but I cut him off afterward."

Asher nodded, looking back to Moxie. "See? Not crawling into a bottle. Just a sort of night cap, so to speak. Now," he held out his hand, knowing better than to reach for the mug while the woman was still clutching it, "may I have my mug back?"

[Larka Faux]

Larka watched as the man at the table pulled himself from his thoughts and glanced at Larka for a brief moment before then glancing around and raising a brow at him. The brief few seconds that the man took felt like an eternity to Larka as he was completely embroiled in his thoughts while the man made his decision. Through his mind went through a huge series of questions as Larka devoured all the visual information that the man gave off. How old was he? What was he drinking? What does it taste like? Does he know how it's made? What does he do for a living? What's kept him in such a mood? Has he ever traveled outside of the city? What's it like? Question after question flooded his mind in just the few seconds he stood there. It wasn't until the man had responded to Larka's initial question about sitting at that table did Larka put a stopper on the seemingly endless flow of questions in his mind. Larka nodded and quickly sat down at the opposite end of the table having all of his earlier tension, panic, and worry seemingly evaporate in an instant.

He was about to open the floodgates of questions when suddenly a chair being knocked over could be heard quite clearly to his ears and shortly following the chair was the ongoing torrent of shouting from a strange woman that he had never seen before. The woman had forcefully taken the mug of ale from the man's hands and scolded him for having the drink. Larka found this weird and wondered if it was a crime to drink ale this late at night. If it was then why were so many people doing it? Curious about the situation Larka looked the woman over and immediately felt compelled to ask her if she was human. Her skin and hair was so bright and her eyes were such a striking violet that Larka almost had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn't mistaken for what he had seen. In the past he has seen numerous humans and on a small occasion someone who wasn't. Every time he's ever encountered a non-human he couldn't help but get excited and want to ask them a million questions. However he's never quite had the chance to until now.

After a brief moment the woman looked at Larka and an odd expression formed on her face as if she had never even seen him here at the table in the first place. It didn't last long however as she quickly went back to staring daggers at the man. Larka found this entire situation very amusing as the woman was so incredibly small yet the man was large and looked as though he could break her in two with as much ease as a beast from the troupe breaks those who foolishly get too close to their cage.

The situation was defused when a barmaid had arrived with Larka's food in which the man immediately began speaking to her about some sort of deal he had made with her. Starving Larka began to devour his food while he watched the two with his peripheral vision. He didn't want a miss a thing, but he was far too hungry to just ignore the food in front of him. Larka would have made a comment at this point, but the looks on both the woman's and the man's faces gave him a feeling it would simply be ignored.

[Moxie]

Asher rubbed at his eyes grumbling in the petching language she did not understand. It upset her that he could not share his true thoughts in a language she could understand, instead he kept it to himself, speaking it out loud for his own ears instead of hers. The man then shook his head and started speaking common again, explaining that he was not drinking himself under the table he just could not sleep and was using the ale to make him drowsy, before she could speak again he had already motioned for the barmaid to explain to the Konti about the deal they had. A small white eyebrow shot up as she explained the situation and Asher once again reassuring her and asking for his ale back.

The Konti sat down dainty like, crossing her legs still holding the mug of ale, "I sorry for misunderstanding this. I just worry about you, I care you are friend to me." She explained softly, sliding his mug across the table then crossing her arms, "But next time speak in language I understand 'bout your true feelings." She glared at Asher for a moment, then smiled, "Silly man." Moxie said lightly then turned to the stranger sitting with him.

"Sorry you had to see that, I promise I not bite. I Moxie, you are?" She asked the strange young man, as he was stuffing food into his face. She chuckled lightly he was obviously hungry, she did feel bad that he had to witness her so out of character. The Konti was usually kind and soft, but when it came to those she cared about a fierceness came out of her, from inside her heart.


.

[Asher Claveson]

Asher sighed as Moxie took a seat at the table and apologized. He eventually got his mug back, but then the Konti chastised him for slipping into Nari. Her glare made it all the more amusing, and when she smiled, he laughed. "If I shared my true feelings you'd just yell at me some more." He shook his head, taking a larger sip of ale, and focused his attention on the boy, who had already eaten half of his meal.

"Slow down, boy," he said. "Don't want to kill yourself when you've just arrived. My name's Asher. I would be sorry as well that you had to see that, but then you wouldn't realize how cruel this Konti is to me." He got another look from Moxie, and he could only smile wider and make a show of drinking his ale. Though he teased, he knew that she honestly cared. She made an effort to watch out for him, since she discovered that no one else had taken it upon themselves. He thought it odd at first, to have someone who was recently no more than a stranger care for him as a close friend would. But he was able to see the kindness in her heart, and the hidden strength that appeared through her resolve to ensure his health, and he decided it wasn't so bad.

A note...Sorry that this is so short. Once we get to know Larka better, then the ball will really get rolling.

[Larka Faux]

The food that was placed in front of Larka had already been halfway devoured by the time the woman and man's argument had ceased. Larka watches as the pale woman slid the mug of ale back across the table, but not after giving the man a few last words. The woman then decided that she was not finished with her time here as she had then sat down in a seat between the man and him. Larka watched as the woman turned to finally speak with him directly. She claimed to be some sort of Moxie and promised that she would not bite which Larka found odd. Was it custom to promise not to harm another before speaking?

"Wha--" He was interrupted before he could even get his first word out by the man. The man had introduced himself as Asher, and then proceeded to apologize for his actions. Larka stopped eating as he listened to Asher speak. He didn't have a whole lot to say, but one thing he did say Larka couldn't help but find really interesting.

Konti? I thought this woman said she was a Moxie. She clearly said 'I Moxie' then asked what I was. Wait, unless that was her name. Plus did he say she was cruel? Is what this 'Moxie the Konti' doing cruel? Neither of them look like they were doing cruel things. Ah, I have so much to learn!

"What's a Konti? What was that language you used earlier? What's in that mug of yours? What's it taste like? What exactly am I eating? It surely tastes good. Never had anything like this. Do any of you know what the world is like? Have you ever traveled?" Larka paused and took a deep breath, "Asher you said this Moxie was cruel. Does that mean what she was doing was cruel? Is being cruel bad? How come you two are awake so late at night? I mean I'm awake too, but I've been on the road for some time. Are you a Moxie or a Konti? I couldn't quite tell from what you said. You said Moxie but Asher said Konti. If so what is a Moxie? What is a Konti? I think I already asked that, sorry."

Larka had to stop himself mid-flood otherwise he would have forgotten the earlier questions he gave the two at the table. For a moment there was nothing but silence as both Ashen and the Moxie/Konti gave him an odd look. Their looks were not the same look of fury and annoyance that the Ringmaster would give him whenever Larka asked him so many questions. Yet their silence made him think that they too would punish him for asking too many questions and he began to look around to see if any of them had any sort of weapons to punish him with.

[Moxie]

Moxie was taken back by the flood of questions that poured out of the little man beside her, he just kept going on and on and she could not help but wonder how he was not purple in the face yet from all the words that poured out so quickly. She did not catch all the questions as it was confusing to listen to. She did how ever pick up the Moxie and Konti comment as he seemed to be very confused about it.

Her mouth was slightly parted in shock at all the words that tumbled forth forming incoherent questions. She blinked a few times, her face softened and a bright smile lit her face and she giggled loudly, "Oh my you a talker. Dear boy, I could not understand all that. I answer what I can although I not sure how many questions came out." Her violet eyes lit up with amusement as she glanced back at Asher, then back to the boy in front of her.

"My name Moxie, my race is Konti. I come from Mura the Isles of Konti. Cruel is bad but Asher only teasing, I not cruel. I am up late working. Asher said he not able to sleep." A small frown appeared on her face as she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth in thought, "Uhm.. Asher?" She turned to look at the man a bit perplexed as to what to do or if she answered all of the small man's questions. So she looked towards her friend for help with this rather odd situation hoping he could assist him in the questions she could not remember to answer. Though she was confused her lilac eyes still had mirth in the depths as the little man was really entertaining, if not a bit hyper.

[Asher Claveson]

Asher's eyes widened at the questions that came tumbling out. He didn't know how he was able to keep up with any of them, they were being said so quickly. Moxie did her best to answer what she could, but she was as flummoxed as he was. Eyes were on him then, and he realized he should probably answer the questions that were left unanswered. He cleared his throat, took a gulp of his drink - he had a feeling he'd need it - and then decided to start on answering the questions.

"Um, so... that language I spoke is Nari. The Inarta race speak it primarily, and rarely ever share the language, but my wife taught me." He thought he was getting a bit better at talking about his wife without dipping into a sadness. Which was good, him getting distracted by thoughts of his wife just made conversations awkward. And this kid certainly looked to be getting ready for a large conversation. "This drink is um, ale. Foreign Stout, to be precise. I guess... it tastes fine?" He ducked his head when one of the passing barmaids tutted at his comment, shaking her head but not pausing from her work. "Okay, so it tastes good. I wouldn't have ordered it if it were anything less than good. But I don't think you should be having any, you look so young. Not to mention you're small. Maybe not as small as this one over here," he tossed a smile Moxie's way, "but it would make you drunk pretty quickly, especially if you're not used to it."

He looked at the meal placed before the boy and continued, "Looks like their meal of the day is just some deer meat stew with a bit of bread, and what looks like," he glanced into the cup the barmaid brought over with the meal, "hmm, just water. Probably best for you, if you've been on the road. Though you ask about the world, and whether we've traveled." He tilted his head in curiosity. "If you haven't been traveling, what would you call it? And now that I think about it, you haven't told us your name."