Clockwork, Steam & Sorcery

[Chauzu]

Phowett listens to the peoms and tap-dancing with delite. He could sense the nervousness of the poet, even though he can't see him very well (a blurred image before him). Phowett taps the edge of his table with his walking stick for another mug of milk (Phowett doesn't drink anything but water, milk, and juice, since he can't very well see what people put in his mug. Not to mention he doesn't have a taste for much alcohol. )

Listening to the dwarf he recognizes a fellow student at the University. He stands up from his table and walks towards the dwarf's voice, guided by the touch of his stick. "Hope I ain't sticking this into nobody's rear. That would be rude..." He discovers the dwarf's voice and sees his big blurry head. "Greetings. If I recall correctly, this is Forge of the University? I think I may have seen you... err, heard you walking in the halls quite a few times." Phowett grabs the chair next to himself and sits down. "If that dwarf that always runs into me in the halls is a friend of yours, please remind him to stop it." Phowett smiles before noticing other blurry people next to Forge.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Greetings Pohwett. Yes it's Forge. This is Elias and Froud. What brings you here today? Forge thinks of his cousin Travar and his idea of fun being "Human bowling". He'll have to have a word with him about this.

 

[arwel]

"Phowett, you're one of Professor Midwinter's students aren't you. Pleased to meet you, I'm Elias Kaerlennon. What do you think of Midwinter?" Elias is distracted for a moment by the thin milk moustache on Phowett's top lip. "What is that you're drinking? Milk? I hope there's some gin in there." Elias gives out a hearty laugh and slaps his new drinking companion on the back.

 

[Chauzu]

Phowett laughs and licks above his lips. "A milkstache."

"Hello Elias. Hello Froud. Nice to meet you. I'm here for my weekly listen to the folk. You here many good stories and jokes from here."

"Yes, I am a student of her's. She is a favorite teacher of mine, very nice. And a very good voice, I might add. She's probably old though. I can't tell, and it sure would be rude to ask." Phowett scratches his head and continues, "That's straight milk I'm drinking. Don't much like the taste of alcohol."

"So... what classes are you folks taking at the University? What are you guys majoring in?"

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Forge looks at Linda and asks Well what do you think about the poet? You always seem to have something to say. Forge has not yet let on to anyone that he thinks Linda is attractive. But there are times like now that he gets a bit "Puppy eyed".

 

[Uriel]

Froud ignores Forge's jeering at his Griffon and the general banter about the table as well.
Finally deciding to focus on having a bit of time off, he 'switches off' his Mechanism, as he likes to call his brain, putting all the formulae equations to rest, at least for the night.
'I wonder if there is a Play or a Comedy tonight somewhere. We should go and see about that, pewrhaps dinner as well.
The Gnome smiles, being 'sociable', though his fingers stray into his Satchel and begin to work at something within.

 

[Krug]

Forge looks at Linda and asks Well what do you think about the poet? You always seem to have something to say. Forge has not yet let on to anyone that he thinks Linda is attractive. But there are times like now that he gets a bit "Puppy eyed".

Well, heartfelt but clumsy. Full of earnestness, yet does not know how to bring it across. Linda says, taking another sip. Her fingers pat the gnome's head, almost on reflex.

 

[loxmyth]

Yara the barmaid collects payment from Elias with a smile, and pockets her share. "Thank ye kindly, milord," she says, with too much fawning in her tone for even a mildly perceptive person to take her seriously. To the gnome, she says with a smile, "We do have bread, chips, fish an' a bit o' mutton in the back, Froud. What other fare do ye need?"

Buoyed on by Elias' encouragement, the poet beams broadly. He begins to pick up the pace, his feet moving at a furious pace. He seems oblivious to any other criticism, and whirls and twirls on the stage with gusto.

 

[arwel]

"Bah, she could at least make a better effort at pretending to be grateful." Dejected Elias rests his head in his hand and takes a slow sip of his ale. He raises his eyes to Linda, the sour look gone in an instant as his smile returns once more "You must admit though, he does dance in the most amusing manner." He nods in the direction of the poet, "You have to at least applaud his energy. I agree with Froud though, some more civilised entertainment would be most welcome. Still, we have our ales to finish first. Anyone heard any good gossip?"

 

[loxmyth]

Old Hob swings the polishing rag over his shoulder and leans in a bit closer in a conspiratorial manner. "I suppose it depends on what you mean by good gossip, lad. I suppose you've already heard about the murders, who hasn't? But I've heard Longstock has a suspect. Brought in a deranged vagabond, Matty tells me. Babbling off the top of his lungs, in the slums in Cockscombe."

Shaking his head ruefully, Hob rubs his shiny bald head, then strokes his greying beard. "Hard times, they are. And what's worse, I've heard the King's health isn't getting any better, Isame preserve him." He quickly kisses his palm in a superstitious gesture.