35 Fall, 518 AV
"Speech"
"Others"
"Speech"
"Others"
It was a wild night. Rain thrummed down on the roof and on the stones of the street, enveloping the tavern in its insistent noise. Patrons unwrapped themselves from heavy coats as they came in, hunched against the weather, water streaming from the ends of their beards. Those without coats slouched sullenly in corners and shivered, nursing their ales.
Dovey was bone dry, save for the soles of her boots which squished through the shallow puddles dotting the floor. Impossible to mop the place up, though Manowar had tried, early in the season when the rainstorms had just begun. He'd brandished dishcloths at barmaids like weapons, growling about his guests not wanting to drink at the bottom of a lake, but he'd had to give up a good while ago; whenever the front door opened, in came the wet once more.
Dovey didn't mind. It all reminded her of home - the sound of the storm outside, the puddles within, even the water invading the seams of her boots to pool about her toes. But everybody else seemed to be of a different opinion, and she trod still more lightly than usual around the customers, many of whom were as snappish as wet cats.
She tried to stick near the bar, generally a safer location if a fight broke out, because you could get your back to something or duck behind the counter if you had to. But if someone from the middle of the floor called out to you, well, you could either go and serve them or you could risk them getting angry. Dovey would prefer to let her current black eye fade before she got herself another.
She had just returned from one of these trips, bearing a rather large tray - now thankfully empty - with her. She held it out across the bar, and Cira the bartender took it quite hastily from her hands, shoving it onto a shelf behind her before turning back toward the three irritable-looking customers jostling each other for space at the end of the counter. Dovey took a few steps away; she would really rather not get involved in that situation, and from what she knew of Cira, the bold young woman was more than competent enough to handle it herself. Instead Dovey went to the bar's opposite end, situating herself out of the way of traffic, and looked for somebody safe to serve nearby.
Boxcode credit: Karin Ironyach