Saga ~ Our Online Roleplaying Family

Henderson smiled as he straightened the sign over the door.  He stepped back and admired his work:


Off to the side, on a path leading around behind the building, another sign in the same hand read


The morning was pleasant, for a change. Despite the odd coloring to the stars above Sanctum caused by Alsbeth's latest incursion, the sky was clear and there were no rifts active. Bahran street merchants were opening up and the people of the town were starting their day. 

Walking back inside, he looked around. The tavern wasn't large, but it had several tables and chairs for folks to rest, a small kitchen where simple meals could be prepared, and (perhaps most importantly) a polished mahogany bar, stocked with the best wines and ales he could acquire. To one side was a door leading outside to the smithy, where the forge was warm and ready to be stoked into life should any customers need its services. To the other, a set of stairs led up to the second floor, where a number of rooms had been set up for Saga members to claim as their own. Alirrin and Jirenn had already moved in, after Jirenn spent two hours in prayer and ritual, blessing the place in the name of Tavril.


Everything was ready. All he had to do was sit back and wait for his first customers. 

A Mathosian and his dog had just emerged from Thedeor's Circle--and a ritual of morning training--onto the adjoining avenue lined with vendors and the workshops of Bahralt.  As he wandered further down the street, he stopped before an establishment he had never noticed before, glancing above its door.

The eyes on his otherwise expressionless face narrowed--expressive enough all the same--as he read the sign.  Saga... Henderson Q. Blackfoot?  What's this all about? he wondered with reserved skepticism, unfamiliar with any such name being associated with Saga thus far, yet equally surprised to come across this place in Sanctum with Saga's name emblazoned over the door.

Wyeth peered at the obedient wolf at his side, the creature looking back up at him with expectant ears.  "Stay here, Sebastian," he said in monotone.  Almost immediately, the dire wolf began to circle around a solitary spot of turf beside the door in search of a comfortable place to lie down as his master stepped inside for a look around.

As he was on his third round of polishing the already spotless bar, Henderson looked up at the sound of the door opening. As the Mathosian entered, Henderson noted his dress and the wolf outside the door. Thinking for a moment about the roster Alirrin had given him, he smiled and said, "Welcome! You must be Wyeth! I am Henderson, or Hendy to my friends! Come in, come in, what can I get for you?"

Wyeth stared blankly at Henderson--not so much at Henderson himself but rather his cheer.

"Hrm," he uttered, unsure of how to react to being so readily identified.  "Hello... Henderson Q. Blackfoot?"  He scanned the interior with a tactician's eye while barely allowing his gaze to stray from Henderson.

"Coffee.  Black."  And after a beat, he appended flatly but with sincerity, "Please."  He approached the nearest barstool, pausing as if to consider whether he should sit.  "I was recently lectured about bacon and eggs, and since it's been a while since I've indulged..."

He broke off mid-sentence, redirecting his train of thought, "Who exactly are you anyway?  I'm pretty sure we've never met."

The tavern door slams open and a lithe ranger bounds through, her Beast at her side.

"Someone's left their pet outside! Looks like a sweetie," she turns back to the wolf, "Heeeeere, puppy! c'mere...!"

Lyrima bends down, her arm outstretched.  Beast, knowing what those magical digits can do, instantly inserts himself under them.  "Go'way, Beastie.  I want the wolf to come in."  So saying, she shoves her disappointed Beast aside.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm Henderson Blackfoot. I met Alirrin a couple of weeks ago, soon after I arrived in Sanctum.  I'm not really much of a warrior, so when I was ascended I wasn't sure what I could do to help the effort.  My talents are more in the entertainment and smithing realm.  Alirrin mentioned that your group needed a place to call home, so we worked out an arrangement where he and I partnered on buying this building and setting it up as a tavern and smithy.  You guys all have space upstairs to stay when you are in Sanctum, and if you need repairs on your gear, you can leave it with me and I'll take care of it."

Henderson keeps up this nonstop monologue all while moving quickly around the small kitchen area in the corner.  He sets a rasher of bacon on a skillet and goes to the side door, where he finds a basket with eggs and a pitcher. "Oh good timing, it looks like eggs and milk were just delivered! ... Unless of course you are the sort who prefers ale with breakfast?"

He looks as if he is going to finally pause long enough to let Wyeth answer his question about the time Lyrima walks in.

"Oh, good morning! You must be Lyrima, I've heard so much about you and your fantastic partner.  Is that Beast there? Would he care for some scraps of beef? I knew we would have some animals around and asked the butcher to send me any bits he might otherwise be throwing out. Oh, where are my manners, I'm Henderson Blackfoot, call me Hendy!"

Lyrima frowns in disappointment as the wolf stays resolutely outside.  She turns at Hendy's introduction and nods enthusiastically at his suggestion about feeding Beast.

"See, Beast? yer famous!"  So saying, she strides to the bar, swings a leg dramatically over the stool and plunks herself next to the only other patron in the bar.  "That your wolf out there?"

Nope. I reckon yer talkin' about my mutt. It's name is, um, Jasyn.
Phillion says to Lyrima as he enters into the Bar from the side door. He looks at the other patron, Wyeth, knowing he has no sense of humour and, well, the dwarf's feeling bored today.
I left a pile o' my finest armour out there by the forge. If you don't mind, uh Hendy, is it, after a quick drink or three, I reckon I'll go back out and hammer it back in shape.
The dwarf sits at the closest table. He smooths out his beard as he looks down at the empty space where a mug of something should be.
Oh, manners, yeah. Hendy, I can use that forge out there, yes?

"Hm, I see."  Placated by the preparedness of Henderson's response, Wyeth settles in on his barstool and winds down to relax, admiring Henderson's skillful kitchen scramble.  "Remarkable.  Alirrin thinks of everything.  And, no, it's far too early for alchohol.  Coffee is--to borrow from Dominic--adequate: steaming hot , dark, and bitter.  Thanks."

Regarding Lyrima--and later Phillion--with a nod as they enter, Wyeth states rather pointedly, "You shouldn't bother Sebastian," looking specifically toward the dwarf as he emphasizes the wolf's actual name, "He needs his nap.  Invasions kept him awake half the night, and if you irritate him, he might try to bite off your fingers."

Lyrima peers through the partly open tavern door at the peacefully sleeping hound.

"Him? Naw. Animals LOVE me.  I'ma ranger, don'cha know."

She elbows Wyeth in a friendly manner and turns to Phillon, "Yo! How ya doin?"

Well I reckon I'm well. The Gods have seen fit ta keep me safe.
And Alirrin's set up a place fer us ta stay. Aint nothing wrong at all.
Well, except for the constant Rift invasions, walking undead and no beer, Phillion says to himself.
He looks again at the short order cook, waiting to see when Hendy will become a waitress.

Wyeth jumped a bit at Lyrima's elbow jab, followed by a vague utterance, "Mrhm."

"Suit yourself.  If he snaps, I'll consider calling him off,"  he said passively.  There was nothing threatening in his tone, but without the crack of a grin, it was nearly impossible to tell if he was making an attempt at lightheartedness or if he was actually serious.

As the female rogue and the dwarf began to chat with one another, Wyeth shifted his attention back to the labors of the proprietor as if detailing mental notes for a counter-strategy against well-prepared bacon and eggs.

Hendy finishes up Wyeth's bacon and eggs and brings the plate over along with a pot of coffee. He sets out mugs enough for everyone, and looks to Lyrima and Phillion.

"Coffee for anyone who wants it! And does anyone else need breakfast?"

To Phillion's inquiry, he responds, "Yes, of course, if you want to work on your armor yourself, you are certainly welcome to do so.  Or you can just leave it there and I will take care of it for you. Whichever you prefer!"

((As Jezerai))

A slim Mathosian woman with a blonde ponytail strides in.  She cracks a crooked smile on seeing Lyrima.  "Heyas, beautiful!"  Sniffing the air appreciatively, she continues.  "Did someone say bacon and eggs?  Don't mind if I do!"  She nods to Henderson, "Jezerai's tha name, or yeh can call me Jez.  Got any whiskey behind that bar?"

"Good to meet you, Jez, I'm Hendy! I'll get another round of bacon and eggs started, and do you prefer Elven single malt or Dwarven blended? I have a bottle I got from Reclaimers Hold that will cure what ails ya!"

With a wink to Jez, he sets the bacon skillet back over the fire and cracks several eggs into a bowl to scramble up while the bacon fries. When that is done he pulls out the two whiskey bottles and shows them to her.

"Name your poison, love, and I'll join you to toast my first day in business!"

She cracks a crooked smile on seeing Lyrima.  "Heyas, beautiful!"

Lyrima jerks back at the endearment, her hand dropping to her sheathed daggers.  She takes a deep breath through her nose and noisily exhales through her mouth before turning back to her conversation with Phillion.

Belatedly and with a blush, she turns back to Jezerai, "Yo. Good..uh..good to see ya..."  Shrugging uncomfortably, she turns desperate eyes on Phillion.

What's the situation with you and her? I reckon there's a feud or somethin'.
I don't think I've met her before.
Is she part of the flock of Saga?
AND DON'T YOU THINK IT WOULD BE NICE TA TOAST WITH THEM?
Phillion says loud enough for Hendy to hear and take the hint, hopefully.

Through the open front door walks a tall, thin and pale elf with large, deep brown eyes. Her almost black hair falls to her shoulders while her bangs lay evenly forward. She walks stately and gracefully over to an unoccupied table close to the bar and sits, taking in the surroundings and people with a quiet manner, her eyes unafraid of what they meet, but unchallenging just the same. After her survey of the room she turns her gaze to the barkeep and she breaks into a warm smile. With a slight sway from her elegant neck, she nods as she speaks.

"A fine day to you. I am Mistress Laenha, formerly of House Baelari. I can assume you are Master Blackfoot?"

"Dwarven whiskey'll set me up straight aways."  Pours herself a shot and raises a toast to Henderson before tossing it back, "What a way ta start the day, eh Wyeth?"  She gives the dour Wyeth a non-too-gentle pinch on the rear and sends Laenha a wink before taking a seat.

While still keeping one eye on the cooking breakfast, Hendy watches in admiration as Jez tosses back the whiskey. He pours a shot for himself and splashes a bit into Jez's eggs, then leaves the bottle out while continuing around the kitchen.

As Laenha enters, he acknowledges her greeting. "Yes, but call me Hendy! Looking for some breakfast? We're doing a round of eggs and bacon, and some of us are starting the day dwarven style. What'll it be?

With that he places the cooked bacon on a plate, then uses some of the grease to cook the eggs. With a flourish, he arranges it all and hands it to Jezerai with another wink. "Enjoy!"

Lyrima blinks at the addition of whiskey to Jezerai's eggs.

Dawning realization lights up her expression.

Goram! Why does the dwarf here not get to start the day Dwarf style?
Excuse me, Lyrima Lass.
The dwarf, irrate, stand up on his seat and turns to find Hendy
A Drink. ANYTHING. Over here.
Make it two.
He plops himself back down and smirkes at the Ranger.
He then spins his head back around.
Better bring her one too, I reckon.

Lyrima nods mutely in reply, still staring wide eyed at Jezerai.

Quote from: Phillion on April 13, 2011, 05:40:04 PM
Goram! Why does the dwarf here not get to start the day Dwarf style?

Henderson blinks at the outburst, then smiles again. "All y'have to do is ask!" With that he lines up a set of glasses and pours a series of shots, handing two to Phillion and another to Lyrima, and leaving the rest for any takers.  Noticing that the crew has put a fair dent in the bottle, he says to himself, "Hm, I'll have to see about getting a line of credit with the Reclaimers. This stuff is popular."

Jezerai notices the extra glasses and helps herself to one to sip while she eats her breakfast.

Wyeth bit into a lightly crisped strip of meat candy followed by a mouthful of golden, fluffy eggs--chewing slowly and thoughtfully, looking almost relaxed as he savored the flavors.  Until Jezerai walked in.  He'd almost begun an exaggerated exhalation of exasperation as she boisterously paraded in, incrementing the ante meridian population of the booze deprived, but he choked momentarily as he received a surprise greeting from a stealthy goose of endearment.

"Rrm."  He shoveled another bite of breakfast into his mouth, maintaining the appearance of composed irritation, drowning it with a gulp of Henderson's coffee as he tried to ignore Phillion's thirsty ramblings.

"You really should try something for breakfast, Laenha," he called across to her table.  "You never know when we'll have another break between battles."

"By the way, Hender... Hendy, this coffee is horrible," he said.  "I love it."

And he took another sip.

Lyrima blinks at the two shot glasses full in front of her and stares a moment.

With an obvious one shoulder shrug, she tosses back one, pushes away the other and heads behind the bar to help herself to a tall glass of iced water.

As she turns back from the water, she notices Laenha sitting behind them all at a table.  She beelines for her friend and settles comfortably at the same table, her back to the wall, the other patrons squarely in front of her.