Lunch with Munch

Munch buzzes softly to himself, sitting at a central table, reading a large book. People do that, right? Sit in pubs and read books? The metal man isn't good at the whole 'acting normal' thing, but he's trying.

It's a fairly busy night, the pub is warm and the food and drink is hustling out of the kitchen. There's a brief moment as the door opens where things get a little more quiet because everyone is looking in that direction, but it quickly fades when the only one that's there is a hooded figure quickly stalking forward gracefully. The figure os clad in the leather and forest-green cloak of a ranger, the thought deepened by the tell-tale arch of a bow over one shoulder though there's the brief oddity of a quiver attached to the leg rather than strung with the bow.

The individual's course is halted by a serving girl making way past Munch's table ladened with food and drink. So precarious is the waitress's load that she bumps into Rhyn and the whole thing starts to collapse. Quickly Rhyn acts, helping to catch the tray before it can spill anything. The effort of aid knocks back her hood and reveals a lovely sildanari woman with a shock of crimson hair braided down the length before being tossed over a shoulder. She sets the woman back to rights and sidesteps... right into Munch.

Munch glances up as the tray starts to tumble, but holds still. Jumping into the mix wouldn't help matters. But when the elf starts to stumble into him, the golem puts up a bracing hand. It's a bit like bumping into a statue, not a lot of give behind the layers of metal and.... whatever the heck Munch uses for skin. Some sort of leather/rubber hybrid? He buzzes softly, and blinks with a soft click. "You okay?"

There's a little bump and Rhyn quickly turns to make sure she hadn't collided with a some/one/ rather than a some/thing/. She's wearing a surly expression on her face and it turns into a frown when she realizes that she has in fact bumped into someone. She takes a little step back and coughs behind a quickly lifted hand. "Yea I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She seems to take him in a bit and with a quick glance around to note that her aid of the waitress has drawn attention she pulls down her hood and offers him a barely-seen and barely-there smile. "Would you mind if I joined you? There doesn't seem to be any open room at the bar."

Munch treds the line between 'person' and 'thing', but is working on it. "I've no objection." The extended hand turns, offering a handshake and introduction. "Munch TerrorMaw, the Golem Who Eats."

The woman meets the handshake with one of her own, firm and professional despite her slenderness. "Rhyn Salvern. Of no particular order or affiliation unless one calls the woods one of those." She seems amused if her tone suggests anything and she waves to a waitress as she takes a seat at the table. Rhyn keeps her hood low, but scans the room more than once from beneath it. She doesn't seem fearful so much as watchful; a hunter surrounded by so much information. "Thanks for the seat."

Munch glances about with casual interest, no fear, not exactly watchful, just passive curiosity. An apex predator who isn't hungry, but maybe something tasty will happen by. The golem turns back to his book, but his eyes click towards Rhyn. "I wasn't using it. New to the city?"

"I doubt you could call me new any longer, but I rarely come into the city proper." She settles back into her seat, relaxing inches at a time. Yet even when she's fully rested there's an air about Rhyn that suggests she's ready for a fight to break out. "I take it you aren't?" New to the city that was.

Munch shrugs. "Came here a few years ago, but I wander a lot. Call it home, so whatever that works out to. Figure anything more than a couple weeks is good enough, but that's just me. Some who think if you weren't born here, not as real, or something."

Rhyn lets out a little amused noise and nods. "People can be like that. Me? Home's where you rest your feet at. Doesn't matter if it's a patch of woods for the evening, an inn, or some fancy house." She nods her head once and looks up as her drink comes in. It'll be a while before the food comes, but she seems glad of the drink, taking it in quickly as though she's been parched. "Can I offer you a drink or maybe something to eat? I feel I owe you a bit for the seat; and for bumping into you."

Munch buzzes softly, but shakes his head. "Thank you, no. The staff asked me not to eat where customers can see. Some find it off-putting." He buzzes a moment, magicite eyes shifting colors as he considers. "You're a hunter, yeah? How do you hunt for something you don't know where to find?"

The ranger considers the question for a long moment. "Is this a riddle? Because if you're really asking, I'd say you look for tracks. Just about everything leaves a trail of some kind. Even things that don't walk or crawl leave a trace of where they've been and gone. A good hunter for instance can find a hawk because even if you don't know where to find it you can find its prey; its nest." Rhyn rolls a shoulder. "You looking for something?"

Munch sits forward a little, stretching out his stubby little bat wings. "Dragon wings. About a 15 foot wingspan. Young adult green would be ideal, but pretty much anything with the same bone structure would do, I think. Wyvern, manicore, maybe chimera. But I don't know where to actaully find any of those. Anytime word pops up, we've always just gone out an delt with them. Now that want to find one, they all seem to disappeared."

Rhyn blinks, then blinks again. She clearly hadn't noticed his little wings. She blinks a third time then out of politeness tries not to stare at them. It's not as easy as it sounds. "Chimeras and wyvern's are pretty rare, dragons even more so. But a manticore? There's plenty of those out in the wilds. Particularly near the felwood." She hesitates and then takes a drink. "Looking to replace the ones you've got?"

The ranger shrugs and finishes her drink off just as her food arrives. "Can't say as to why you haven't found what you're looking for. Maybe hire yourself someone to help you find what you're looking for." She turns to the waitress and briefly asks for a refill on her drink with a surprisingly warm smile given what seems to be her normally slightly sour disposition. "I'd be willing to take you out, but I can't promise that we'll find what you're looking for right away."

Rhyn laughs lightly as though Munch has said something funny, and he has. "Surf and turf." She mumbles the words to herself and starts to dig into her food. She eats politely enough, but not as though she might break the food if she cuts it too indelicately. "Suit yourself. But be careful out there. Things in the felwood have gotten worse as if to make up for the strangeness in the more normal woods."

Munch nods firmly. "Surf n' Turf. The lion part is really more like beef, and the tail is a lot like lobster. Just avoid the stinger glads, those are kinda bitter." He considers a moment. "And also poison, but only a little."

The sildanari woman almost chokes on her food and then flashes a grin at Munch. "I can see why they might not want you to eat around here. Eating poison glands? That would set most people off their lunch for sure." Rhyn shakes her head at him and swallows her food down with a bit of her drink. She seems to be warming to him a bit.

Munch mehs, and waves vaguely. "Alcohol is mildly poisonous, that doesn't seem to stop anyone. It's just a matter of what poison you're willing to deal with. I was made to process some pretty toxic stuff, so it takes something pretty potent to throw me off. Still happens, but not often."

"Alcohol is a risk-reward system that most drinkers have accepted. Like adventurers accepting the risks of taking on a possibly deadly job. It's a known risk and so it doesn't seem as intimidating." Rhyn shrugs again with a little roll of her shoulders. "Really anything in a high enough dose can kill someone. So really it's more about seeing someone do something that a normal guy thinks is crazy I suppose. An unknown risk for what reward."

Munch nods. "Most people do something that someone else thinks is crazy. Takes a bit of effort to do something that everyone thinks is crazy. But sometimes trying something new and finding out what will happen is it's own reward."

"I can get you there." She sighs and finishes off her meal with a little flourish of her fork. "Well, I'm sorry to have interrupted your reading. I should probably let you get back to it yea?" Rhyn still has a bit of her drink left, but it's nothing she couldn't hurry down if he seems inclined to have her go.

Munch waves vaguely. "Not a worry. Trying to read up on where to find stuff, but hasn't been very helpful. Just says what the author did once they found something, not where or how they did it.”

Rhyn considers Munch a second and then shrugs. "Sounds like you're reading the wrong book then." She nods and takes a sip of her drink, then on second thought downs it. "Even so I should let you get back to it. I hate to be a bother, and I hate even more the attention I've managed to draw here tonight. Best be on my way before I start a fight."

Munch shrugs. "Nothing wrong with a good fight, but that's better suited for the Ox or IronBrew. Anyway, is the problem with books. Never know just what's in them until you read it."

"Truth in that, truth in that." Rhyn seems amused again. She sticks out her hand to shake Munch's again. "Thanks. I haven't had a quiet meal with someone in a while." With that she gets up and heads out the door. A few heads follow her movement, and someone slips out the door after her. The bar is just quiet enough that one can hear the sound of a scuffle if they listen for it. Someone being thrown against cold hard stone and then silence. Seems that she didn't get away /entirely/ without a fight. But the view of her cloak passing the window suggests that it wasn't /her/ that ended up on the ground.

-End