Polishing the People Skills
Log Info
- Title: Polishing the People Skills
- Emitter: Braelnoir
- Characters: Braelnoir, Morgan, Seyardu, Paenitia, Aryia, Stjepan
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Tuesday, June 08, 2021, 9:54 PM
- Summary: Braelnoir is in the Fernwood ordering dinner, when Morgan arrives. While the two are getting caught up, Seyardu and Paenitia arrive seeking refreshment, only to be granted the Korite's invitation to her table. As they're settling in, and discussion about magic items goes on, Aryia, battered from a prior temple battle, arrives to the concern of the gathered table. With some translation of her tale, the Mul'niessa is lauded and given food and drink. Stjepan arrives for a short visit as Morgan is called to other responsibilities, and the others discuss their own experiences and feelings, amongst other things, on the reliance on weapons. The conversations carry on for some time, and in turn, the ladies thin out for the night, until at last the two women scaled to differing degres in silver, fare each other well and amicably part company
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* 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.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Morgan 4'10" 79 Lb Half-Elf Female Short pixy like half elf with fair skin Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her. Stjepan 8'0" 534 Lb Giantborn Male Big, blonde jotun. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a pretty lively night in the Fernwood, two serving girls, a human and a half-elf, are doing the rounds while a reasonably talented mistrel is putting a lute through it's paces as he sings a jaunty song of yore.
Descending the stair less her breastplate, bandolier, scythe and greaves, Braelnoir's gait is a little bouncy as she seems caught in the beat, a somewhat merry twinkle in her eye.
As she gets to the floor proper, she calls a, "'ey, luvvies, fine evenin' it is!" This gets a few toasts from a few regulars before the Korite starts to groove her way over to a table.
Morgan comes walking in with a cat sized dragon following her "No I am not buying you a meal until you go back to my office and clean your mess." the half elf says to the little red thing. "No I did not find all my books on the floor usefull, now put them back." It flys off with a bit of a huff. She gives a sigh and then smiles greatly as she sees Braelnoir "Hello love."
Braelnoir slumps lazily into a chair and stretches her arms above her head, popping joints along the line of her body with a sleepy groan. She straightens up as she catches the hail from Morgan an she waves the arcanist toward her, "Hey, luv, how ya been? C'mon, join me fer a spell!"
There were a few times that Seyardu had stopped by the fernwood, usually to see or bring something to her friend who was staying there. But she never stayed long in most cases. Yet another time, after she found a book on sign language that seemed useful, she decided to stop by to bring it over. And so the silver sith'makar steps into the room, looking for the mul'niessa, but not finding them.
Morgan smiles as she saunters her way over "Nice to see you here my dear." she takes a seat near the Human that invited her after trying to get a kiss. "So Cyro hired me to do a very nice and expensive cloak." She gives the Dragon kin a noticed look before she looks back to Brae.
The door opens, it closes again. Oh, a Lucht Siuil entered. A red hat moves along at waist height to the average person, barely above the level of the tables, over to the tall chairs. A chair that's right sized for children, or one of the wee folk that isn't that wee. It stutters as it's dragged along the floor to the bar.
At which point a Knight in rusted armour, with a widely grinning mask and her dark curls bobbing freely, unless they're her fetlocks which are tied with bows, climbs into it. "Hola the bar! A drink."
Spotting Seyardu, she continues the greeting, "Hola my friend. You also, and the one I do not know." She waves to Braelnoir and Morgan.
Braelnoir is spirited in meeting Morgan's desire for a kiss, wrapping the smaller woman in her arms for a hearty one, indeed. As she lets go and gets the skinny of Morgan's updated to do list, "Oh? Wha'she gettin', then?" she wonders in curiosity, even as she flags down a waitress.
The gleam of silver brings the Mercs eyes toward Seyardu, then behind her, the arrival of the small crimson knight, and she waves a renewed invitation that way, "Come join us, luvvies, 'ow ya been?"
Looking to the bouncy half elf server, she says, "Dark beer, a shot o'fireball whiskey an a steak, m'usual if ya would, luv? An' what th'ladies here want?"
Morgan orders a mead and thats it "It is a cloak that has the propertys of other cloaks. I never did something like this." she settles in her seat moving her haversack in her lap. "But is there any magic items you are looking for?"
The door to the Fernwood stiffly opens and shuts, a disheveled, scarred mul'neissa in ragged clothing stepping through. Her milky eyes were bloodshot, face dragged down in exhaustion. Shoddily stitched thread kept a few tears on the back of her long sleeved shirt closed and a few bandages dangled from her wrists.
Her attention glides across the room, stops at the table where everyone is gathered, flicks to the back rooms before making up her mind and dragging her feet on over.
Aryia gives a halfhearted wave in greeting, mostly to the floor.
"I will." The Red Knight says, then quickly asides to the human serving girl, who is closest, "My order, it is to go over there."
She hops off the high-chair and it scraps along like a ship navigating between reefs through the tables to end up at Braelnoir and Morgan's, at which point the Dark Lucht climbs back up. She nods to Morgan, "Hola," and waits while business is discussed. Magic Items!
Her beer arrives soon after. The Red Knight watches Aryia approach, "Comrade, did the lions get you?"
Seyardu walks back to the bar, near where the two were sitting, and beside the lucht-knight, to take a stool at the counter, turned to Paenitia, and to the table the two were at.
"Paenitia, Braelnoir, peace on your nests. do not worry about any drinks."
And then the lucht was out of her chair, and over to the table, with the mul enterring. She waved back to Aryia with more energy, before leaving for the table.
Braelnoir sighs, and her mood dimms, something simmering beneath, "I'm still havin' trouble with charms, luv... been gettin' whammied a lot, lately." She settles back into her chair, "Ended up'n more than a few fights that weren't my stake. Done well by Kor, I'magine, but still..." She shrugs and rolls her wrist, "Somethin' ta help m'will, ya know?"
There's a pat to the sword at her hip, "I'ma put some mojo on this tomorrow, he's finally gotten proper wet." A shrug, then, she looks between the gathered souls at her table with a, "Yer choice, luv. How ya been?"
The waving turns her attention toward the ragged Mul'niessa and she lifts her hand, flexing through several signs, "Hello, come join us." <handspeech>
She straightens, some as she gets a better look at her condition and she calls, "Hells, luvvie, y'alright?"
Morgan thinks for a moment and pulls out a cloak out of her haversack "here take this, it will help you with most spells and the such." She looks to the others and gives a smile "Yes Join us." said to the Mul.
"Fine now," the mul'neissa replies with two movements of a hand. Accepting the offer, she slides into a chair at the table and, without skipping a beat, drops her head onto the wood with a solid 'thunk'.
She gives a long sigh. And picks herself back up.
"Demons," she signs with a tired expression. "Demons got to Temples yesterday. Almost died." <Handspeech>
Paenitia watches Aryia, then looks at Seyardu, followed by Braelnoir and Morgan, "I do not understand the hand signs. What was the horned one?"
"I have tales to tell too, but I would hear my friends first..
Seyardu frowns, waiting for the elf to bring herself up.
"You do not look fine, Aryia." She says bluntly. "Are you still injured? And what temple are you talking about? There were demons in the city somewhere?"
Braelnoir seems surprised by the sudden emergence of the cloak, but gives a grateful smile and a, "Thanks, luv." before she slips it around her shoulders. Interacting with the magic of another of her mystic accessories, it becimes a silk sash crossing her body. There's a look to Aryia, "Kor's balls, luv, that sounds like a proper scrap!" she replies,"Calls fer a drink at th'least. Ya get them wounds looked at, any?"
Paenitia's question draws Brae's attention and she replies, "Seems like sh'got into a dustdown with some demons at one o'the Temples, she weren't specific which one, though t'be fair, names are a bitch'n handspeech."
Morgan gives the Mul a suprised look "She was talking about a demon that attacked a temple... I should get out more." while the cloak was taken and put on she is glad the style was changed to Brae liking.
"Please then, tell. I am glad you have survived." Paenitia's surprised, shocked voice goes oddly with her fixed, grinning mask. Her eyes, through the eye-holes, are wide with concern. She looks about the table, "I buy the cold iron lance and silver my sword, thinking I will never need. Now, the doubts come."
She waves at the server to come over, "We pay for her food and drink. Much has happened."
Aryia says, "The temple with all the horses and rules," she clarifies, frowning a bit. "Any food for me to be honest."
"Yes, I did get checked out," she says with her hands, but her face says 'no...'" <Handspeech>
"Alright. Just don't want'm going septic on ya'r anythin'." Brae replies, "She needs some veggies an' meat, Kae. Some o'that fruit juice, probly. Mendin' fuel." She looks to Paenitia, then and, "Best ta have an' not need, as they say. I can do some... basic magic on weapons, if the craftmanship's good enough. Just gotta cover th'incidentals." She nods to Morgan, "She can do th'really skippy shit, though."
Hmmm, "Horses and Rules....?" hmmm, "Which one's that again...?"
"Unless I am misreading some social que, you have not gotten assistance with your injuries. If I am wrong, then I apologize." Seyardu said, returning to a usual neutral expression. "I can heal most injuries with magic, and if you almost died? I do not know if you mean literally or not, but that would certainly need proper care. Food is good, but it is no replacement for making sure everything is alright. Rest and recovery comes after."
Morgan hmms "Temple of Serriel, lovely place. I am sad to hear that a Demon was there, do you know what kind it was I might have information to help you for the future."
All of that food sounds splendid at the moment in time, the shadow elf's stomach rumbling in agreement. She gives a short huff and rubs at her face before launching into a flurry of motions. "No. I didn't go. I was a bit busy trying to not freak out about everything. One minute I was delivering a package, the next there were goat demon things, demons with beards that hit you, flying things with bows, and then this magic person stepped out and started using all sorts of magic? Like they did so many things at one time..?"
She presses her palms against the sides of her head and shivers. Still reeling from all of it. "Why are demons here, instead of Charn, for fuck's sake." <Handspeech>
"I think about that. I need the scary lance." Paenitia asides quickly to Braelnoir, attention fixed on Aryia and drifting to Seyardu and Morgan as they speak. And Aryia, as her hands fly.
She leans back towards Braelnoir, "You will tell me the gist of what she say? Those signs, they seem much angry."
"I do not what some of those signs are. Braelnoir would likely be a better translator than I would be." Seyardu admits. "But if you haven't been seen, then you should get healing of some sort, if you are willing."
"Demons in Alexandria is, troubling, to say little of it. But they are gone now. At least there are people capable of dealing with them, which is good. From what I know, it is not a matter of where, it is a matter of them showing up where they choose. But that happens very little. I am sure the town will look into what happened."
The sith'makar opened a menu in front of her, and pulled out the book she brought to give Aryia, opening it and squinting even more as she looked up some of what she did not recognize.
"Charn's still part o'this world, luv." Brae says, her tone more thoughtful, "Alexandria's had more'n a few troubles of'r own just in the couple years I been around here. Plague, demons, cultists." Here, something troubled touches her eye for a moment, but she pushes on, "Won't rule out they got sent here by Charn, though, not without proof someone else did."
"Still, there's always someplace troubled out there. Ya wanna beer, luv'r something stronger?"
Then to the masked woman, "She got a bit spooked about th'fair. She was just dropping off a package, an' then there's... goat demons, an' demons with attack beards(?)" She murmurs, "Well, that's a new one...." then back to a normal volume, "some kinda fliers usin' bows, then a caster showed up an' started doin' all sortsa crazy shit all at once. She thinks all the demons should be in Charn."
Morgan nods softly to what is signed "She is talking about Barbazu or Bearded Demons. As they come they are not that powerful and tend to be front line fighters for attack forces, but when it comes to winged ones there are many that have them." Morgan seems to be able to follow the hands as they are going.
Aryia regards Seyardu. "I'll go later. I... haven't been able to rest since then. I haven't eaten either."
Her tension abates a touch, the elf drumming the table with her hands before giving a simple tip back of her hand to Braelnoir before continuing. "Beer. I know there's a lot in Charn. And I expect some here too, but not in broad daylight. I think they were after something in that church. Or looking for someone. I don't remember, I ran after some... thing. Something healed me."
Though, her chair grated across the floor as she turns to face Morgan, a bit slack jawed. "Not powerful? I got my back tore open, what do you mean 'not powerful'," she air quotes. <Handspeech>
The Red Knight nods again, taking in the information. "Barbazu. Okay. And Goat demons." She understood those last few signs just fine. "This all very new to me. Much apologies, I will listen."
Morgan forgets that she is a powerful wizard "My aplogise for that. If you fight them again use weapons that are blessed with some one of a pure heart or a weapon of silver. It will hurt them better. But if you want a good nights rest talk to a alchimst for a sleep potion."
"Don' sound like Vrocks." Brae notes with a shrug, "They didn't use bows. Barbazu sound delicious, though. Like ground spices, an' a smoked honey glaze." She asides to Paenitia, "s'alright, luvvie, we all start, somewhere. Ain't no one born knowin'it all."
Her attention turns to the barrage of handsign, holding up her hand, "Easy, luv. Just means in other worlds there's pecking orders, too. There's worse out there, but they don't normally come dirtside on their own."
Her hand lifts and she looks barward, "Bill? A beer fer her, too, please?"
As her eyes are turned by Seyardu, she catches a gleam of firelight from the Sith's scales, and she snaps her fingers, "Oh! Since yer here, I'ma be right back!"
And, just like that, the Korite is on her feet headed for the stairs.
"Then go later. But I will be checking in at the Althean temple tomorrow, to make sure you went." She said, sighing as she closed the book. It seemed it didn't have any listings on cursing. She waved one of the staff, placing an order for, a salad.
"I have heard that there is a type of iron, smithed slowly and with minimal heat, that is said to work well against them. Why, I do not know. If you are concerned, you could have a weapon made, or perhaps some form of gauntlets?"
"I have seen her fight, and she is not weak. I saw her pierce the skull of a sahuagin with its own claw. But demons are dangerous for common folk, no matter the size. And can still be dangerous to others."
Morgan nods and says "cold iron hurts a great deal of them and the Fae." she looks at the time "I better get going I have some things to work on, but you all have a nice night." she gives Brae a kiss and walks out the door.
"Yes, she is the strong fighter, and farewell." Paenitia says, waving as Morgan departs. She turns and looks upstairs, the direction Braelnoir vanished in.
"There is a half-orc, I think you know. Glasha. She has a fix it cart, makes weapons, She can work those materials."
The Dark Lucht looks at Seyardu, then Aryia, "wait. There a saghuain too? You see this fight? What was that?"
Aryia blows out a gout of air, waving goodbye to Brae as she jets off, and Morgan just as her drink arrives. I'll keep that in mind. I don't use weapons much, but I'll think of something. I'm not sure if I've met this person before."
She drinks a long gout of it while resuming speaking with one hand. "I'll go, I'll go. Just not right now, I don't want to be anywhere near up there. And yes. There was one on a boat on the docks. I killed them," she answers evenly before finally putting the drink down. Aryia points to a healing wound on her cheek that was nearly done, a cut going from temple to jaw. <Handspeech>
Stjepan ducks in under the door, and straightens up -- his first thing is to scan the room, looking for how the good chairs are doing, and if any are open.
Braelnoir is currently upstairs, futzing around in her room, while the ladies talk shop at the table at which they've gathered.
"Hola! Great Stjepan. Come, hear about the bearded goat devils and saguhain." The Red Knight waves. She's small so she's hard to spot. She's in a tall chair, which makes it easier. She's bright red and loud, that also helps. "There has been much great fighting."
Aryia is giving a a few handsigns to the others at the table, her being a bit slow since her translator left for a moment. She looked tried, eyes bloodshot, and has haphazard stitching on the back of her shirt that tried to close a few slashes on it. She gives a half hearted wave to Stjepan as he enters.
"There, was sahuagin. Aryia took care of it. Saved one of the crew who it attacked, seemed to have ended up in the hold of the ship. Did not have time to parlay, since it started trying to kill someone. Aryia was saying that she has not met Glasha before, and prefers not to use weapons." The sith'makar explained, taking a drink of the water she was brought. "I do not blame her, after seeing her fight. she could do more with her fists than I would be capable with a weapon, I think."
After the sound of a door closing upstairs, Brae comes troping down the stairs once more, idly tossing an odd brush between her hands. Still less her armour, bandolier and Scythe, she calls a, "Hey, luv, how ya been?" as she sees the Jotun at the door, "C'mon'n join the party!"
She ventures back toward that table, and her vacated seat in particular before reaching over to present the brush, its bristles slightly steel tinted at the tips, toward Seyardu, "Here ya go! Figgered since ya's here, might's well give it t'ya 'fore I forget!"
Stjepan comes over and takes a seat. "Hey, how are y'all?" He slides in carefully -- not crushing wood on the way down.
Paenitia leans towards Stjepan, and she's always grinning when her mask is on. She watched his care sitting down. "One day we go visit the giants, and they can give you the boost chairs and all the seats will be granite blocks you do not have to worry to break."
A handwave at Braelnoir as she returns.
"Okay. I know she does not like the weapons much, and there was a ship that bring the saguhain." Her mask faces Aryia, "Again I say, I am glad to have you as Ally."
"Same, and I'm better," Aryia simply signs to the Lucht knight, then to Stjepan, looking a touch more lively now that she had a beer in hand. Her food followed suit, and that was immediately torn into. Curious glances to the brush given between bites. <Handspeech>
Stjepan looks at Paenitia. "That sounds like a recipe for a sore ass, you know." He waves for drinks to come, then slides down a little, to get closer to the others' level.
"The body is at the temple of Vardama, currently. One of the priests is preserving the body for me, since I cannot do so myself. I do not, I am unsure of the proper funeral rites, but knowing they share some ancestry with my kin, it feels necessary." The sith'makar continued, before Braelnoid returned. She smiled, taking the brush and looking at it, before stowing it carefully in her bag. "Thank you, I will get use out of it, I am sure. I do not spend time on my appearance much, but I understand the benefits. And I agree completely. Aryia is a strong and reliable ally in a fight."
"Only if yer usin' it wrong." Brae remarks with a glance at Stjepan. She grins a bit, then finally gets to her own libations, taking the shot of whiskey and pouring into her tankard of dark beer, giving it a measured shake, then taking a swig. Ahhh.
She looks to Aryia, who seems more lively now that there's somethin' in her and she nods approvingly before rejoining the conversation, "Well... I'm startin' ta come around about m'claws, but, t'be honest, there's gonna be times ya don't wanna just lay in bare handed." she observes, "There's a gal, a barehander named Halani, she put knuckles ta one o'those bigger demons last year an' she exploded." She holds up a hand, "Her words, n'mine. I weren't there fer the fight, but I heard about it after."
Stjepan nods and apologizes. "It's been a crazy, crazy week. I must go." He slips out.
Paenitia nods again, following Seyardu's explanation. "That the place to take them. My sympathies, that you bury distant kin, and that they fight first."
The Dark Lucht takes a huge swig of her beer and laughs, "The proper way, is to fall in love, fall out, then the honour duel of death. This, she takes time."
A sudden glance at Braelnoir, "Exploded?" She would almost believe it is a figure of speach, but after what she's heard so far, anything might be possible.
"Claws?" Aryia mouths, raising a brow from her nearly finished plate. She wasn't sure if she was either out of her depth or on top of her game with every conversation with people. Though, she further explains her usage of arms. "I mostly don't use them because they get in the way. And I don't like holding sharp things." <Handspeech>
Braelnoir nods, holding up the hand with fingers partially exposed by her demigauntlet, which seem to be capped with the usual human options, these kept trimmed close, though, "There's a... 'power' sounds wierd... I picked up after I got cured of a persistant mojo-tech effect I had fer a few months." She sighs, then, "It turns out... I have some ancesters that warrant some firm questionin', an' that artifice was actin' on it an.... somehow when I..." she airquotes, "Fixed it, it left what's in m'blood activated. I can tap into't, an I get stronger, tougher, an' apparantly claws sprout from my fingers. But it's hard ta think'n that state, so'm still getting used to it."
"There is no burying among my kind. We travel much in the jungles, and buried bodies tend to be dug up. Burning sends one to the ancestors, and the ashes are spread over ceremonial grounds. Creatures do not eat ashes." She replied to the Lucht. I will try to figure out what to do though, the clerics there are not entirely certain, and I do not believe it is easy to light a fire underwater."
Finally, the salad came, and the sith'makar picked at it slowly. "I have claws, but they are natural. I have heard though, of softskins expressing such features. Not commonly though."
"This make sense. In Isobar we pile the rocks on them or make the stone rooms." Paenitia elaborates a little, "there is a rock that burns under water, but it hard to deal with. Good luck with this quest."
She's drinking, primarily, eating a small bit. For her, eating is involved because her mask is in the way. So she's slower or does it somewhere without company.
Looking over at Braelnoir, she adds, "I thought you mean the guantlet claws. But you grow them. This is interesting." She nudges with an elbow, her voice indulgent, "And the Ancestor, that sound like a tale of much twists and woe. You have no more details to guess?"
Ah, yes, artifice, the cause of a lot of issues. It made some sense, people with their magic and off the wall backgrounds. Aryia nods, finishing the last of her food and drink and pushing the dinnerware away. "I see. It sounds useful, at the very least." <Handspeech>
Aryia, to be honest, didn't understand the whole reasoning behind the rituals. It was easier to dump it somewhere, but 'optics' were quite important. Apparently.
Buuuut she wasn't going to get into it again, so she stays silent.
There's a little something in Brae's eye at the word 'softskin', but she quells whatever it is with a belt from her tankard. "We burn our own'n Stormgarde. Ground's froze a lotta th'time." she observes, absently brushing the hair back over her left shoulder. The nudge from the little woman gets a little shrug, "I's an orphanage brat 'fore I was bondsworn. Morg managed ta do some o'her mojo an' I got a couple names ta look into. One's a dragon.." Her eyes half lid for a moment, glancing sidelong at the gleam of Seyardu's scales. She comes out of whatever it is, and starts to work on her seared and rather bloody steak, "Finally sussed out a little bit o'magic, too."
"I am sure I will figure it out. Even if they do not deal with those on land often, there has to be writings somewhere, that should work. Aryia said that having claws could be useful." She continued and translated after another bit of her meal. "Would it not be easier to eat without the mask, Paenitia? I don't think anyone here cares about what you look like underneath."
Aryia, finished with everything, gets to her feet, wincing as she does so. "I am going to bed. Goodnight. Peace on your nest," she signs to everyone, finishing with Seyardu.
Though, she pauses at Paenitia. "Thank you for learning a bit of Handspeech. It will help a lot when we work together again." She tiredly smiles. <Handspeech>
Mentally filing away the comments from Braelnoir, she gives a final wave, pats her Lucht ally on the back, and heads on upstairs.
Paenitia nods at Aryia, as she signs and departs, waving and watching her head up stairs. There's a laugh in her voice when she says, "Yes! It would be much easier without his face."
Yet, she doesn't remove her mask, instead facing Braelnoir, "The name of a dragon? That is very unusual, and explain the growing claws and making magic. I express much sorrow to hear you grew up in an orphanage. To not have family, sisters and brothers, is a sad thing."
Braelnoir waves after as the Mul opts to head off, "Night, luvvie, have a good one!" then turns back to her dining companions and continues to make that steak lose weight.
She gives Paenitia a soewhat odd look, then shakes her head, "Na'tall, luvvie... had me plenty brothers'n'sisters!" she returns, "In'orphanage, then'n the Stride after we're sworn."
Without further ado, the Korite takes up her tankard again, hoists it high, then pours a swig's worth to the floor beside her before taking a long draught of it's contents.
"Now I got Cryo'n Lily an' Merek, an' Ezil an' the others, ain't sad a'tall."
"Then, why not? Or, nevermind. I am likely prying too much if you choose to keep it on. Peace on your nest, Aryia, please take this book with you." She said, gesturing to the mul before she left to offer the book. Yet another on proper handspeech techniques.
"Part dragon though, that is something. Having a such a direct relation to the servants of the gods, that is a great honor. I was the only child to survive of my parents, and that was luck. But I had friends growing up, so I understand. somewhat, at least."
"Then you have the big family always, and that is good." Paenitia declares, keeping her mask on, and saying nothing more about it. "You mention those names before. Cryo is the Friend Dragon at the Guild that runs the wargame? I play this game, it is quite confusing."
"I have the family too, in Isobar. They are not here." There would be a lot more Luchts around her if they were.
"I did, yeah, she's got a good heart to'r." she says, "Wargame, though? That's interestin'." She might have to pester Cryo about that. She swivels her attention back toward Seyardu at that and shrugs, "It was a ways back apparantly, an' that ain't all there is to it, though." with a wry smirk, "Still. It's saved m'ass a few times, now, so I ain't gonna bitch about it. Unnerstan' life's specially tough out'n Am'shere. Not a whole lotta young survive. S'good on ya that ya did, Seya."
"I heard, Aryia has gone to those war games as well, they sound interesting. But yes, life is difficult out in Am'shere. Not a lot do, though it is nothing for me to be proud of. It was luck, among other things." She said, leaving it at that and finishing most of her drink. She looked more than a bit sad at the comment, though.
"Do not discount the luck my friend. The unexpected, fickle fate, she appear and upset many things. The skill and plans cannot count it, but do not happen without it." The Red Knight says, finishing her drink. She stands on her chair.
"I get food for Ramirez, I go to arrange that with the cook. Back soon." That said, she climbs down and heads off between the tables towards the kitchen, then slips inside.
Braelnoir hmmm's, "Well... I'm used ta 'war games' bein a more... out'n the field thing." she replies, polishing off her steak to some contentment. She shrugs off the Sith's humility, but, "Luck's always a factor Seya, but it ain't the only one. And them ya've gotta deal with. Most're easy, some ain't.... an some take th'damned cake." She's gotten better reading Sith expressions after her time with Cryo ad she cants her head with a little smile, "Hey, now. Yer still here, now... an long as yer still here, ya gotta chance ta set shit straight." Mostly. She never truly forgets 'mostly', but she's trying to cheer the other woman up.
"I understand, yes. I know luck is not the only factor that is relevant, certainly. But I am sorry, such talk is not beneficial. I know though, there is a lot of other factors." She trailed off, silencing herself with another mouthful of the salad. "I have a lot of, what is it, 'shit to set straight?' I do not know if I could, if it is even possible. But I dwell too much, apologies."
Braelnoir shrugs her shoulder, her head listing toward her left, "Naah... sometimes it gets us all now'n then, luv." She swigs back the end of her enhanced beer, and lifts a hand to signal for another, "Sometimes we can't do things alone. Sometimes things take somethin' special... an learnin' special takes will an' desire." She smiles a bit wryly, "An' mebbe a bit o'luck." and caps things with a wink.
"Yes, sometimes we can't do things alone, I know that well."
The sith sighed again. There was nothing left of her meal, and she just poked the fork at the empty bowl. "It would not make sense if you are not used to am'shere. But I am not used to the freedom of living here. It is, pleasant. I should likely get going though, before I say too much more. Thank you for inviting me over, and I am glad I was able to get that book over to Aryia as well. Though I will need to make sure she went to get aid tomorrow."
Braelnoir nods with a thoughtful frown as she turns her gaze up toward the ceiling where the rooms were and she nods again, "Good on ya fer that." she says. She makes a little offhanded wave, and replies, "It's a pretty nice place overall, yeah. Was nice hangin' out, an' I imagine we'll see each other about some more." She smiles and reaches out with her unspiked fist, "Have a good one!"
"Yes, I am sure that we will see each other again another time. Apologies again, but you are right, it is something I need to discuss. Perhaps something to bring up with some of my kin here." She replied, doing her best to smile as she takes and shakes the hand after standing up. "Take care, and peace on your nest."
With that, the silver sith'makar left the table to settle her payments with the pub, before quickly departing the establishment before she said more than she wished.
