Serving in TarRaCe

The tell tale switching of seasons. Rain and snow. A perfect combination of pushing people into the warmth of the TarRaCe and its inviting lunch menu, the warmth of the fireplace, and the heat of the baths. There was even entertainment, as one of the local bards were strumming up a bright tune to make that chow go down all the faster.

Amongst all the bustle though, a red-ribbon-horned sith-makar was navigating his way along.

"And would they prefer something to go with their meat...?" "This one thinks Salamander would enjoy a bit of spice on the flamed flank-" "Tch, with this weather? Forget the sky, forget oneself in the baths."

Aelwyn in his white blouse shirt, hanging partly open with rolled up sleeves, and his black loincloth slash waiter's apron, was working the tables with practiced ease. The song changes to a more sombre tune.

The Gobbo is not on shift today, instead she is ensconced in a chair, her head laying atop the table. The remains of a large lunch is evidenced by an empty bowl, the mutant-sheep stew practically licked from the sides. Three ale glasses await the attention of one of the servers, drained of their contents.

Yet another day where Schara did not have particularly much to do, which in this case left the elf in question at one of the many tables in the building. A specific one actually, due to how busy the place happened to be, near where a goblin was napping. They were perusing one of the menus and frowning slightly as they stopped to glance at the other side of the surface.

Aelwyn picks up his tray off the counter and walks on over towards the slumbering gobbo. Reaching behind him, he then without much grace tosses a cloth over the back of the shark-finned gobbo. With an amused twitch of his tail, he moves on over towards Schara. "Brass, this one is pleased to see her in..." He pauses and grits his teeth together for a moment in thought. "... in contemplative motion." Leaning forward on the table towards her, he tilts his head. "See anything that would attract her appetite?" The sith makar asks, tail swaying behind him.

Irshya yawns then, and slowly sits up. The cloth on her back remains in place. She blearily looks around, yawning widely and showing off rows of teeth. Putting her chin back on the table, she glances around again, her gaze falling on Aelwyn and Schara. "We have mutant mutton sandwiches, and stew.", she offers, helpfully.

That it is not as cold means the seasons are changing. Unfortunately, this also lends to further rain. A splash of gray upon gray sky is visible as Verna enters the establishment. She remains visible after doing so, of course, though the near-matching sky is less so. She takes a moment to shed water and doff her cloakhood before she moves to approach the counter.

It was not too long ago since Harkashan told a tale of warning within these very same opened up walls. Having returned from dealing with some rather interesting matters at the Arcanists guild, his expression is a bit... stark. One does not walk away from such a matter without thoughts. And those thougths are perhaps best tempered in place of warmth.

He's wearing robes, rather than his full armor, what with the situation he'd left behind. He'll go back to the Arcanists guild later to pick his armor back up. Red glistening across his scales as he traipses forward and settles in at one of the tables. "I did not know mighty warrior was also of the crafting caste." Suggesting that Aelwyn might just be a really good cook or something. What with working the tables like this.

Sitting down across from the gobbo, the seat creaks under a bit of the Sith-makar's weight. Leaning his arms onto the table and letting out this long thoughtful rumble of a sound. Furrows knitting a bit. "What do you recommend in this place?" He inquires with Aelwyn, tapping the bottom of his leg with his tail to make sure the runt is paying proper attention.

The brown haired elf looked up to see Aelwyn, and they blink, warding away the any further frown for the time being. "Oh, hello Aelwyn. I'm not feeling particularly hungry, but I should probably get something to eat." They respond with a moment to catch the suggestion from the goblin. "I don't know if I want any mutated meat, but I guess a stew sounds good today."

More people come in, and Verna gets a wave, as does the other sith-makar. "Oh, hello mister Harkashan, and Verna! Please come join us of you don't want to be alone Verna, because anyone to see or talk to would be good right now."

"The mutants are very good, but the stew is always a hot winner." Aelwyn affirms as he leans away, flicking his pen about his hands. "Stew and something cheap to relax that frown away?" He tilts his head as more people begin to enter the tavern. Bowing his head towards Harkashan and Verna, he greets in turn, "Lava, Mourner." He gestures towards the table, turning his head towards Verna. "Something warm to push away the chill?"

The ruddy sith-makar was not surprised that larger one of his kind simply moved in Irshya's table; neither is he very when his feet get tapped. "Tch, Lava is mistaken; this one is far more entertaining. Brass would surely never let this one pass as one." His tail responds to it's kin tap with a little coy slap. Stepping over towards the table with the tray, he gives the lava colored sith a toothy expose of teeth. "Would the mutant mutton sandwiches satiate him, or is he too ravenous?"

Glasses and bowl are set onto his tray. "Sharkie need something more than coffee? A box to sleep in?"

Irshya yawns again, and then laughs, looking to Schara. "They're just large sheep. We're not allowed to just say they're sheep, so we call them mutated. There's a lot of meat, which is nice. The chefs add a few family-secret spices, and it roasts up well. Works good in the stew also."

As Harkashan sits down, the Gobbo looks to him, eyes tracing the interesting patterns of his scales, and also peering curiously at the lavastone.

Verna is waved at, before Irshya looks to Aelwyn. An arm reaches over her shoulder, her hand retrieving the towel dropped there. She sniffs at it, wrinkles her nose, and tosses it towards Aelwyn.

"I'll show you a box to sleep in, alright..." She grins toothily at the ruddy-scale, before glancing back to Harkashan.

Verna dips her head in return to the greetings. "Good day to you all." Schara's words catch hold firmly and she turns from the counter to approach the table. To Aelwyn, she explains, "I am sated at this moment. My inquiry is for a later meal, to be taken elsewhere." This means it can be done later, and her focus remains upon Schara. "Is there any particular topic you wish to discuss or sight you would prefer?"

"Harkashan." The older Sith-makar corrects Aelwyn upon calling him lava. It's a light reminder, but the kind of tone that Aelwyn may be familiar with from his elders. That kind of subtly chiding tone that only a Sith-makar would really pick up on due to the small visual tells.

"And this one would enjoy something..." He looks to the elf who'd spoken earlier. "Not mutated." He firmly believes that if an elf is wary of something, it is worth considering and respecting such a matter. "I am indeed somewhat ravenous." He then proposes. "So what might you recommend?" Putting the ball right back into Aelwyn's court.

There's another tilt of his head then, as he notices something else unseen. His gaze tracing over towards the Gobbo in front of him. This would certainly not be the first time that a Gobbo seeks him out because of his warmth and his unusual patterning. "If you seek warmth, I recommend being closer to its source." He bids to her without an inch of shame or consideration on the matter.

As he's told Aelwyn before, he is quite used to being used as a heater by his kin. And softskins don't have insulation or scales to keep the cold at bay so easily! Poor softskins.

"I shouldn't be relying on alcohol to relax or chase away thoughts or feelings, but I do feel like having something withthe stew. One of the copper ales would be nice." She answers the waiter, watching the rather strange interactions unfold. "Oh, that makes sense, I'll still have the stew today though."

The elf looks to Verna as she arrives, and attempts to smile at least. "Sorry, I won't keep you if you're heading out after getting your meal. Sights and topics? Seeing a friendly face is enough miss Verna. It's just that this table, I recognize it from the location and a few scratches in the finish, it's the last spot before the baths I remember seeing Kira at."

Aelwyn bows his head towards Verna, "Of course. This one will let the cooks know." He scribbles down a large 'V' into his notepad. It was the most legible thing on the whole scribbled over piece of paper. His hand snatches the towel midair with practiced ease. "Tch, it was an offer. A bit pillow, hay, a lid on top." He wriggles his forked tongue at Irshya.

Turning back towards Harkashan, he gives a flick of his head. If he were familiar with the particular, elder like tone, the smaller sith-makar certainly did not seem to react to it. Except narrowing his eyes and having curling of his lips, as if he were just taking that as a challenge. "Hotstone, this remembers. A snack bowl of chili ribs? Stuffed potatoes on the side? Could finish it up with a stick of meat, covered in sweet sauce." His tail moves to tap Harkashan's chair. "Plenty to fill one's stomach; or this one will have to have a word with Sharkie about the menu."

Aelwyn turns towards Schara and Verna as they speak, but he quietly nods his head towards Schara. "Stew and copper ale, Brass." He says, moving to pick up the tray off the table.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (3)+11: 14

GAME: Aelwyn rolls bluff: (14)+3: 17

The Goblin takes Harkashan up on his offer immediately, hopping down from her former nap-chair, and soon climbing up to settle on the leg of the (mostly) red-scaled Sith. "A trade. I'll cover your lunch and drink, you let me steal your warmth." She offers up a wee hand. "My name is Irshya, it is nice to meet you Harkashan." Irshya glances at Aelwyn, and then back to Harkashan, "Don't mind him, everyone gets a nickname."

She huffs at Aelwyn, "I would rather sleep in the pool. Or here. No hay. The stew is delicious, if anyone is curious. Be sure to get somewhere quickly before the nap-attack hits."

Harkashan's head tilts a bit as Aelwyn decides to challenge him by continueing to give him further nicknames. He considers things for a moment, his eyes looking at Aelwyn. He can't quite get a read on his fellow Sith-makar in that moment though. "Aelwyn." He simply remarks, pressing the warrior's name. "I would enjoy the menu you have described. I will accept your recommendation." After which he leans down and grabs the tip of Aelwyn's tail with his warm hand.

A pleasant and playful tug on his tail, to keeps him close for a moment. "What other names have you decided for me?" He then inquires, before releasing that tail. Deciding to put him on the spot a bit rather than continueing pressing him on using his proper name. It's not like he's minding the use of the nicknames that much to chide him further. But he's feeling something from Aelwyn at the moment.

He's about to say something more, when he feels his leg being climbed. "Ooph!" He reaches down to find out what is happening, only for the Gobbo to settle on his knee.

A index finger is offered in reply to the small gobbo on his leg, shaking her hand like that. "Well met, Irshya." He answers her, speaking her name, flicking his tongue out a bit like a serpent. Tasting the name, as he so often does.

"And your trade is accepted." He then notes.

Verna nods to Aelwyn then returns focus upon Schara. "I hold no urgency to be elsewhere," she notes as she takes a seat at Schara's table. "The keen recollection implies that it was a most memorable moment. I presume a pleasant one, or not unpleasant, at the least. Would you speak of what transpired, then?"

The Gobbo happily shakes Harkashan's claw, nodding in agreement with the larger Sith. Looking to Aelwyn, "Anything he wants, he gets, as far as food and drink goes, yes?"

Irshya just sits, for a little bit, watching the byplay between Schara and Verna, as well the phallic symbol waving contents between the two Siths.

A short time later, a snore is heard, Irshya slumping and leaning against Harkashan's torso. Heat-stealing causes naps.

"Thank you Aelwyn, that sounds good." Schara responds with a nod to Aelwyn, and another head tilt at the goings on at the nearby table. But her attention was back on Verna just as quickly.

"You know, I'm not sure if it was memorable, maybe in a way. Made memorable by the fact that well, There's nowhere to go after that." Schara sighs. "I usually have a good memory so that's not out of the ordinary I guess. She helped me with remembering that not all clerics or holy people are out for personal gain or ulterior motives, no offense to any here."

Aelwyn doesn't even bother writing Harkashan's order down - after all, it was his recommendation. He seemed to thrive under the gaze though, looking as if he found the situation amusing. The ruddy sith-makar found it even more amusing when he was pulled closer; and his backside promptly leans against those warmth spilling scales. His tail though, cannot resist attempting to coil around the warmth of that arm. "Hmmh. This one does not decide, only observe." When Irshya clambers onto the larger sith-makar's lap, he then looks up and at the lava-like draconian. "Gobboheater?"

Getting back on his feet, Aelwyn gives his horns a bit of a shake, sending that multitude and a batter collection of ribbons fluttering. "Tch, is it only a bit of warm lap of this one's Kin and the menu is wide open? Is this how Sharkie functions?" An amused rumble leaves his chest as he gives yet another tap at Harkashan's leg. Glancing around, he leans away with his hand on his hip. "This one will return with the orders soon."

It is remarkably no surprise when he soon hears the sound of snoring from his lap. Looking down at the heat-thief on his leg, having to tilt his head to get a better look of her, before raising his posture again. He makes absolutely no commentary on the fact that his leg is now occupied until the Gobbo wakes back up.

There's just a stare of acceptance.

This is his fate.

Harkashan, Deathsinger, Speaker for the Silver Empress, Gobbo-heater.

"So it would appear." Harkashan relents to Aelwyn when pressed, noting the tail-wrap around his arm. A pat with his other hand on that tail of his, before retreating his hold so that Aelwyn can go get the food. He doesn't seem to react /too much/ to the other Sith-makar so comfortably leaning against him. The Sith-makar are hardly the type that flees from physical contact.

"So that is this one's other name? Sharkie? What is... Sharkie?" Something for Aelwyn to answer when he returns with the food.

"It was significant enough to you," Verna notes, even as the cause far said significance, if tentative, is given by Schara. "I take no offense at your opinion. That others of faith acted in a manner that presumably created such negative opinion... that causes me offense. That is not to say that clergy or faithful are infallible or otherwise supremely gifted, of course. We are all mortal, and differ as much as any other two might."

Her attention turns briefly to the Deathsinger to offer, perhaps helpfully, "Her name is Irshya" Admittedly, it is not so distant from 'Sharkie' in pronunciation. Hmm. Perhaps that was intentional in her naming? Intriguing..

"It's not your fault Verna, or Harkashan's yes, that's what I'm trying to accept." The artificer sighs. "And it was significant I guess, that's not some small thing to accept but, I just wish that I had more time to get to know her, and that I didn't hesitate to ask if she wanted to be my friend just because of her occupation."

"Sharkie is a name for Irshya, I heard Aelwyn use that name begore and he doesn't repeat nicknames for people. They tend to stem from physical characteristics so I imagine it has something to do with Irshya's teeth and other qualities that make her shark like." They add on.

Aelwyn takes his time settling the order out - or in this case, balancing a tray filled with drinks and hot stew. He slides the tray down over the table, tilting his head at Harkashan's question. His tail sways as the others explain - but he himself, leans down and just flat out pulls at her shark-like tail. "Sharkie." The draconian responds, apparently utterly confident he will not wake up his boss. "Here are the drinks," He offers, placing the glasses for everyone. Even Verna gets a glass, as Aelwyn also sets down the jugs of water.

His hands cradle the famous stew, and he lays it down in front of Schara. "The stew." He tilts his head at the elf for a time, but he bows his head finally, before retreating over Harkashan's table and laying down the platter of bites. With his serving done, he leans against the table, arms crossed. "Comfortable, or should this one peel his boss off from him and drop her into the pool?" He suggests. Half joking. Mostly serious.

Harkashan nods his head; "Yes, I picked up on the proper name for this sleeping one." He answers her, not so much indicating 'I got that' as much as indicating that he doesn't understand how that relates to someone being named 'Sharkie'.

Then, noticing his name being spoken, he looks to Schara. He's not sure why he's being spoken of. He's after all, not kept very good track of what Verna and Schara have been discussing. Lacking foreknowledge of the topic in question. So there's just this confused tilt of his head, and a little flick of his tame. A questioning little growl following this along.

"Mourning the passing of someone?" He inquires with her, at a softer tone. At the mention of shark teeth though, he glances with some concern at the Gobbo below. A concern that quickly drifts away with consideration of his scales being... firm enough to not be afraid of sleep-walking shark-bites.

Then, Aelwyn pulls out the Gobbo's... tail!?

He had thought he'd felt something strange pushing against his tummy-scales.

"That explains that." He answers. It matches up along with the teeth.

"You can leave this one resting on my leg for now. I will request her removal later when I am done eating." He then bids to Aelwyn, and begins to dig in on the food. Taking a few heavy bites, showing that he was actually /quite/ hungry. When done getting those first few bites in, he notes to Aelwyn; "As long as you don't get too jealous of your boss." Proving finally that he has been paying attention.

Verna is surprised by the arrival of a cup for herself, but dips her head to Aelwyn with a "Thank you." To Harkashan, she confirms his hypothsesis simply. "Indeed. Schara does so, as do a great many others. I do so more indirectly, and by duty," she admits. She did not know the decedent personally.

A moment is taken, then to consider before she responds to Schara. "I would dare to suggest, from what I know through others, that your question may have been wholly unecessary and was answered in action before it was asked. As well, you could take this not as regret, but as encouragement. When next you might speak or do something, yet might hesitate, you will make the step not taken in the past? One never knows when their time of judgement is at hand. Personally, I recommend the present over the future, when the risks are minimal and doubts small. It is a view I only recently acquired.

Schara accepts the food and drink with a nod, and the elf rather unceremoniously plants one gloved hand on the table, another on top of it, and wrenches the appendage off, only to replace it with a large spoon from a pocket twisted into place. Before she can start eating however, she stops to listen, and nods. "Yes mister Harkashan, I guess I am, more than I was expecting to." They admit. "I know, others have said the same, but it doesn't feel right. Maybe I should be more willing to act when I'm uncertain, if I don't want something like that happening again."

The food was as promised, spicy. The meat was chunky and pleasant to tear into, though this was not just a starter plate, but a meal on itself. Aelwyn lets out a hmmh at Harkashan, spreading gesturing with his hand. "If this one were jealous, he would simply ask for a bigger tip in retaliation, Hotstone." He sways his tail behind him. "This will just ask not to spill too much grease on her." Speaking of which, he grabs and flops the cloth napkin from his shoulder and offers it to the other sith-makar. "It is a pain to get out of the pool."

Seeing the conversation was very somber on the other table, the Dragoon decides to take his leave with a bow of his head. "The cook is aware of her order, Mourner, and the rest of the food will arrive soon. Brass, Lavastone." He begins to step away - but his trailing tail grabs onto Harkashan's for a while, and he casually 'stumbles' around the larger sith, rumbling something in quiet, before wandering away with a swaying walk of his.

Aelwyn has left.

Harkashan makes for a deep nod of understanding. Though a Deathsinger, he does not speak further on the matter. Listening instead, on how she might mourn. He's long since learned that as a Deathsinger, it is oft better to listen and let others speak, than to give word himself. But Verna may at least understand the look he gives. That respectful nod.

Accepting Aelwyn's napkin offered he nods his head. "Good. I just wanted to make sure." As he spots that tailway from the runt Sith-makar. Of course, then he goes tripping over his tail somewhat and rumbles something to him. Harkashan seems to rumble something back to him, before he turns to his meal and quietly proceeds to eat. Not wishing to wake the Gobbo in his lap by being particularly rowdy for now.

Verna purses her lips upon belatedly realizing that she answered for Schara, and unbidden. "My apologies. I should not have spoken out of turn. The matter of hestitation and timing is one fresh in my own thoughts." She returns Harkashan's nod after likely interpreting his look, if possibly belatedly.

Aelwyn gets another curious look befire he leaves, and Schara shrugs, finally able to take at least a few spoonfuls of her meal. "No, it's alright Verna, I haven't been making it much of a secret after all, and it's something I guess I wanted to talk about." She answers to the mourner. "Should I ask why it's fresh on your mind? You do a lot of listening, it's only fair that I can do some listening as well."

"All has been rather ... occupying as of late," Verna notes what is likely obvious. "While this city and region are oft rife with activity, the recent excess put some matters into focus. I was so occupied with one concern or another calamity, I left far too little attention to those that are most important to me. If the Harpist were to judge me on the morrow, I would wish them to hold memories of my company, not memories of awaiting my company."

"I understand, at least in some way, Verna." Schara nods slowly, taking a pause to eat some of their stew and think. "I've been so focused on making gold and working that I haven't been able to be happy in the present many times, not to make this about myself. I hope you can make time to spend with people you care about now, or you can make more time. If you have any errands you need done I could help out so you would be free to do other things?"

Verna nods, her neutral countenance breaking into a soft ..smile? "Your offer is most kind, yet I am the one responsible, and I am altering my focus appropriately. I now make time for what is important. Thus the choice of action over inaction was fresh in mind. As well, my advice that you -do- make matters about yourself, as able."

"Well, alright, but I'm still going to offer if you need it in the future." Schara states again. "Though I guess it goes against your advice, but I'll keep that in mond to do more things for myself. You probably have a lot of friends already, but you're really nice for a cleric and if you want another friend I could be one, for whatever that might entail? I'm not entirely sure really."

"You are most welcome to offer," Verna notes, smile lingering a moment longer, "and I shall keep such in mind. As well," she continues as she rises from her seat, "I would be delighted to consider you a friend, and the reverse. In truth, I do not consider many such, nor would I expect many to consider myself such. For now, alas, I must excuse myself, as I have a few matters to attend. My thanks for the pleasant company and conversation."