Domhani Bairdéir 01

[arkansasdave]

...at the Wick

Béar will turn around in his chair and look and the little man with obvious amazement.

Ohh my, I had no idea. I thought they were all evil and mischevious. Not at all like this fellow seems to be... But the stories of the wayward innocent who happens on a fae folk who ruins the man's life just for a laugh... Surely those were JUST stories meant to frighten young lads into obeying their parents... He seems to be of no threat. But IF he tries anything with me, he will have to feel the effects of being sandwiched between the floor and my Mace...

 

[Scotley]

Gavril

Gavril smiles, enjoying the banter. "Oh my skill as a swordsman is less flashy than my wardrobe, but no less effective. Sir Peacock! Ha! I like it, though today I was wearing an ostrich plume." Turning to the stairs he shouts, "Diddious! Freshen up the white chevalier with the peacock plumes for tomorrow." "Now my little leprechaun, I shall buy you a round of this excellent wine and next you can buy me a green beer from your pot of gold."

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

A Dark and Stormy Night

Most of the guests and all of the staff of the Wick look on in amazement at the light hearted exchange between the bon vivant and the diminutive imp. The Stills relax visibly, seeing such obviously worldly folks reacting with relatively level heads to the presence of a Faeborn, and the Fingle girls follow their lead.

"Probably wake up tomorrow with our feet on backwards!" mutters the old tinker, and the fellow in burlap nods sagely at this pronouncement.

From the back of the room, the slender man dressed in the black of mourning is heard placating the mercenary: "Easy, Eadon. I don't think the little fellow presents as much danger as the stories would have us believe. Save your energy for the trip tomorrow -- bandits on the road will be far more threat to me and this."

Mrs. Wick finds her backbone and declares bravely: "We do have cats roaming about, but you'd make an oversized rat for them were they thrice as large as they think they are! If you wish to stay in a room some of you will have to bunk together, but you're welcome to sleep here in the common room if you wish." With this (somewhat forced) sally, she elbows her husband, and they begin bustling about, bringing out light refreshments, ale and wine, and arranging the tables to accomodate the entire group rather than smaller groups of 3 or 4.

It's still fairly early in the evening -- about 30 minutes to an hour after sundown -- and (unless you wish it) none of the guests are tired yet.

 

[Pan]

Daesaigh

Enjoying the witty banter, Daesaigh dries himself by the fire. He says little as the group becomes more relaxed, but thinks to himself... Wouldn't it be nice to belong to a place such as this.

After a while he motions to the Mrs. Wick.
What do you have in the way of a poor mans wine?

And would it be too much trouble to request a room to myself, I cannot bare the thought of.....troubling someone with my fa--snoring!

 

[mleibrock]

Skath

Gavril smiles, enjoying the banter. "Oh my skill as a swordsman is less flashy than my wardrobe, but no less effective. Sir Peacock! Ha! I like it, though today I was wearing an ostrich plume." Turning to the stairs he shouts, "Diddious! Freshen up the white chevalier with the peacock plumes for tomorrow." "Now my little leprechaun, I shall buy you a round of this excellent wine and next you can buy me a green beer from your pot of gold."

"Hmm, why yes...I think i will allow you to buy me a glass of wine, mind you one is all I'll need, Leprechauns, don't get me started on those guys. All the power of fae but no clue of what to do with it... what a shame and come to think of it, you could be a distant relative, what with the poor dress and all. "

 

[mleibrock]

Skath

Most of the guests and all of the staff of the Wick look on in amazement at the light hearted exchange between the bon vivant and the diminutive imp. The Stills relax visibly, seeing such obviously worldly folks reacting with relatively level heads to the presence of a Faeborn, and the Fingle girls follow their lead.

"Probably wake up tomorrow with our feet on backwards!" mutters the old tinker, and the fellow in burlap nods sagely at this pronouncement.

From the back of the room, the slender man dressed in the black of mourning is heard placating the mercenary: "Easy, Eadon. I don't think the little fellow presents as much danger as the stories would have us believe. Save your energy for the trip tomorrow -- bandits on the road will be far more threat to me and this."

Mrs. Wick finds her backbone and declares bravely: "We do have cats roaming about, but you'd make an oversized rat for them were they thrice as large as they think they are! If you wish to stay in a room some of you will have to bunk together, but you're welcome to sleep here in the common room if you wish." With this (somewhat forced) sally, she elbows her husband, and they begin bustling about, bringing out light refreshments, ale and wine, and arranging the tables to accomodate the entire group rather than smaller groups of 3 or 4.

It's still fairly early in the evening -- about 30 minutes to an hour after sundown -- and (unless you wish it) none of the guests are tired yet.

"No need to make others bunk together on my account. I would be happy with a nice blanket and a pillow to take back to the attic...and I can vouch for the thatch job, not one leak!!"

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

A Dark and Stormy Night

"In that case, there should be room for all of you to have a room to yourselves, with the exception of Master Diddius who will still need to bunk with Gavril.

In response to your request for wine, kind sir, I'm afraid the recent troubles have left us with a lot of the things we've got, but we've not got many different things . . . um . . . we've got Pale and Dark Ale (2 and 4 Farthings), Mead, and Red Wine (1 Penny). The Mulled Wine is also a Penny."

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

A Dark and Stormy Night

The other guests are gathering around the tables, settling in for talk and drink. The mourning man makes his excuses:

"I'm afraid I must retire for the evening . . . I've yet to perform the nightly ritual of mourning required by my people, and if I'm to get any rest tonight I must get started on it. I bid you all good night."

With that, he goes up the stairs to the rooms. Eadon, the mercenary apparently in his employ, moves to take a seat close to Béar or Gavril (or both if they are sitting together).

 

[arkansasdave]

Béar at the Wick

Béar will sit at the tables that have been moved together. He does not enguage anybody, but leaves himself open for others to talk to him. He is perfectly content keeping his mouth shut and eyes and ears open. Listening to hear what everybody has to say. Occasionally, Béar will glance over at the lone, masked man-- Odd that someone would continue to cover their face when they are dry and safe from the elements.

This thought jolts Béar's memory of one of his many battles he led his troops into long ago. The day he came closest to loosing his life. With an upward slash that seemingly came from nowhere, the tip of the sword caught his face just left of his chin, traced the left corner of his mouth to just inside the hairline above his left eye. The scar is about a half inch wide at any given spot and the surrounding tissue two inches on either side has healed into a mess of bumps, cracks, and folds. The left side of his mouth has drawn down for a premanent frown.

His now empty eye socket was currently filled with a smoothed, pollished, oak sphere. I wonder who will be first to ask about my face.

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

A Dark and Stormy Night

OOC: As luck (or the GM) would have it . . .

"I am Eadon Marsh. It looks you've some stories to tell. I am a man of the sword myself, hired only tonight by Master Illé to protect him on his journey to collect the body of his son."