Morning Coffee

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Tenebrae - Wednesday, May 17, 2017, 9:25 AM



-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

Elian strides into the Fernwood this morning, carrying a sack in his right hand. He walks in with a smile on his face and a spring in his step and heads straight to the barman. "Good morning. I've got those spices you asked for."

At a corner table sits a new face. The girl has the visual characteristics of a half-sil, with slightly pointy ears and a jovial appearance. She has her feet crossed at the ankles, resting on the opposite chair. Before her is a mug of ale. She seems to be resting after a long journey.

Selia mutters unintelligibly, stumbeling down from the upper rooms with her eyes squinted closed, her hair rumpled, and dragging a pillow behind her. Weaving her way to the bar proper, the little lutch pauses, taking a long look at the bar stool twice her size, sighing softly, and slowly making the climb to perch atop. The pillow gets set on the bartop before her. "....coffee. Na wadder. Just da gud black." she slurs.

Kestrel perks a finely arched eyebrow. Activity, at last. She decides to continue her people watching gambit, not entirely comfortable with the idea of barging in other people's conversations, be it interrupting business or sacred sleep.

The barman looks at the wild elf and opens his mouth to speak, but stops and nods to the lucht. To her he says, "Good morning, Miss Selia. I've got it ready for you." He pours her a cup.

Elian looks around the place and nods a polite smile to Kestrel, but stands at the counter waiting his turn. While he waits, a dartboard in a far corner of the common room grabs his attention.

Selia mutters a bit more, and accepts the cup with tiny grabby hands before apparently plunking face down into the brew. That can't be healthy, but disturbing a not-yet-awake lutch isn't often healthy either.

Kestrel returns the offered smile, taking it as the invitation it was intended, or not. She takes a long pull of her breakfast beer (10:40am) and stands. "Good morning." Yep, she's talking to Elian. Her steps are light, barely sounding against the hardwood floor as she approaches him. "Are you aware of any company that's hiring able swords?" Subtle.

The barman finally turns back to Elian and says, "Alright then. Let's see these spices. Elian hands over the sack, which the barman looks into. Meanwhile, Elian watches Kestrel and responds to her question with a bow, saying, "I know not, but the Adventurers Guild is always looking for new recruits. Also, if you'rr so inclined, you might join the City Watch." He glances at the barman, then adds, "I'm Ga'Elian."

Selia mutters something into her cup. It's still slurred, but not bubbeling, so, better than it might be? Raising her head, the lutch turns to squint at Kestrel a few moments before returning to her routine.

The barman pulls out various sprigs of this herb and that spice, sniffing several of them. Apparently pleased, he says, "Once again, Master Ga'Elian, you bring good stuff." Grinning, he goes on, "It's high quality fare that gives us our reputation as a fine establishment, not like other public houses. At any rate, you've earned the high price you charge." He hands the elf a small sack, apparently of coins.

Elian takes the moneybag and hefts it a moment before tucking it into his shoulder bag. He then turns back to Kestrel, "You're not from Alexandria, then?"

Aya has arrived.

Kestrel eyes her mug, and then the spices. "Foraging is a good moneymaker, as most regular jobs go." She nods a little. "Adventurers Guild it is, as I'm not really City Watch material. Thanks for the information." When he asks about her whereabouts, she smiles. "I taveled a lot, mostly working as a swordswoman. I've just arrived to Alexandria. Yesterday to be more precise."

Selia sits up slowly and gives a jaw cracking yawn before turning on her stool at the bar, still squinty eyed, but not as much. Eyeing Kestel again, she inquires. "Were ya from, den?" Still accented, but no longer slurred.

Aya emerges from a room on the upper level and steps along the walkway. She's in no rush and makes full use of the vantage point to survey the patrons gathered below as she walks.

Kestrel smiles to the lutch. "I'm from Vodna, a small village on the coast of Korvosa (not sure if we are in Golarion). I arrived here just by chance, since the contract I had with my last vessel ended this voyage. I'm a bit tired of the sea, maybe a bit of dirt on my boots will do me good." She pauses, raising one finger. "How rude! I totally forgot to introduce myself. The name is Kestrel, nice to meet you all."

Elian's eye flicks up to the balcony as Aya emerges from an upstairs room. He nods, then says, "The Guildhall is a bit south of here, Kestrel, in the Warehouse District. In fact, if you came here by sea, you probably passed it on your way."

Selia mmmms. "I's Selia. Dat's Issa. Likely passed it. Though mighta missed iffen ya did na no wot ya was lookin fer." The halfers words almost drip with the thick accent, an odd mix of Low Charnish, a smattering of Undercommon, and a fluttering of fingertips that aren't quite real Handspeech.

Kestrel takes a long pull of her beer, finishing it. She places the mug on the counter, giving her full attention to Selia and Elin. "I've seen a rough tavern at the warehouse district, but wasn't in the mood for a brawl today. Kept going north to the more civilized neighborhoods. I'm sure I'll find something to do at the guild. Are you guys members of any company?"

Aya was aware of Elian, and possibly of his glance upwards. This could be why she abruptly removes herself from upwards to join those below. She ceases to be on the walkway and returns to being behind the syl, trailing rapidly dissipating plume of shadow. "Your master has let you off leash, today, I see," she comments with one corner of her mouth lifting in bemusement.

Elian asks the barman for a "chilled mead, please." He says, "Well, my companion, a griffon named Erithamiel in Sildanyari or Silverbeak in Tradespeak, tend to operate on our own quite a lot, but I go out on occasional missions from the Guild. Also, I am involved with the Ygdrassil Union, taking shifts from time to time to guard the sacred Tree. I've also allied myself with a holy inquisition to seek out and destroy demons." He takes the mead when the barman delivers it.

Kestrel raises her eyebrow once more. "Busy man. I think I stand a bit higher on the sloth scale. Just one job to pay rent and food is more than enough to make me happy, for now."

Selia shrugs idly at Kestrel. "Most folk is parta da Guild, off or on. Else keep ta me own tricks." At Aya's sudden arrival, or at least, movement, the little lutch almost flickers, from casual to alert, back to relaxed again.

Elian takes his mead and wanders across the room to the dartboard. He says, "So, Kestrel, have you gone on any adventures yet?" He takes three darts and backs up to the tgrowing line. He aims and throws all three darts.

"The Guild does pay well enough," Aya adds her voice to the topic at hand, ", is free of undue influences from any other single organization, and doesn't dicate methods. All strong points."

Kestrel eyes the darts flying in a graceful arch to the board. She smiles to Selia. "Good to know that the guild is in good terms with the city and its affiliates." She perks an ear to Aya, nodding. "Good news indeed."

Elian heads to retrieve the darts, saying, "Yeah, the only over-arching themes I see to the Guild's jobs are money and the defense of Alexandros."

Kestrel flips a coin towards the bartender. "Thanks for the beer." Then she faces the others. "It was a pleasant conversation. Thanks for being so charming and informative. I'm sure we will meet again." With that she offers a small flourish. Time to go.

Selia yawns again, and waves vaugely. Not impolite, but it's way too early for her.

Elian waves at Kestrel. "Don't mind the griffon outside the door."

Kestrel has left.

Elian puts the darts back down, finishes his drink and says, "Yeah, too nice of a day to spend indoors. See you around." He, too, heads out.

Elian has left.