Serving in TarRaCe

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Revision as of 19:38, 9 March 2023 by Harkashan (talk | contribs) (Created page with "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...")
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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."