Mac's Boarding House

[Voidus]

The spren darted a little ways ahead of the two, becoming a small ribbon of orange and red light as it moved and reforming when it stopped at a collection of chairs outside a cafe. The spren waited for the two to catch up before jumping to the next chair in the line, then the next. It kept pace with them, leaping in sudden bursts of glee, occasionally taking a brief pause to examine the small singe marks it was leaving on the wooden surfaces.

 

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Yeah happy to move to another thread, I'm having fun

 

[Voidus]

16 hours ago, Sorana said:

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Would you be alright with changing threads for your next reply? I had Temeria suggest a different place, but in the end it doesn't really matter, as they aren't the alleys anymore and it would make it a lot easier for me.

 

 

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Guessing here would be appropriate then @Sorana?

"Of course." The construct replied "I apologise for insufficiently interpreting your intended destination, one moment."

The figure gave a shallow bow of apology, its voice remained monotonous but it seemed to attempt to express its sorrow at this misunderstanding. As it bowed its body dimmed save for a solitary Aon which shimmered and burst into a radiant silvery light which encompassed the two, the people on the street took hurried steps back and away from this phenomenon, fear overpowering their curiosity. The flash enveloped the two and they vanished from sight once again.

"We have arrived at the location most recently purchased by the administrator Mac." The construct intoned "You may once again feel some momentary disorientation which should pass."

The light slowly faded, revealing that they had arrived at the familiar, simply furnished interior of the boarding house. The room was currently unoccupied save for the two who had just arrived and the spren that still sat atop the candle that Temeria held. The spren sat stunned at the instantaneous transition of its environment, but quickly recovered and glanced about the room they were now in. Spying the candle on a nearby table it excitedly tried to gather up some of the flame from the wick it was sitting on to carry over, seeming undaunted by its inability to do so.

"Did you wish to rest?" The construct politely asked after Temeria had had time to collect herself. "Or did you wish to inquire something further?"

[+Sorana]

On 28.1.2020 at 1:05 AM, Voidus said:

"Did you wish to rest?" The construct politely asked after Temeria had had time to collect herself. "Or did you wish to inquire something further?"

Temeria bent forward, her stomach lurching uncomfortably when they changed places again. She felt slightly sick and leaned against a wall, tried to calm her breathing and her stomach. It was disconcerting to travel like this, to be hurled around to different places. That moment when everything vanished and then suddenly appeared again - she closed her eyes and suppressed a groan while she waited for her body to adjust.

Rest. It was tempting to ask the construct to wait while she slept a bit, to curl up on the ground with it watching her. Maybe she could ask it to keep an eye on her person. A shivver crawled along her spin when she realized that nobody else was here, that she had asked for the one place that was empty. The program was a program, and the spren - she smiled when she watched it try to lighten the other candle, tried to push away the fear that reached out for her. Alone. But no, she wasn't alone. Program was here. She clung to the thought, used it as some kind of life line and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. Leaning her sword against the wall she turned back to construct, holding up the ring again.

"How does it work?" She asked, hated the quivvering sound of her voice, they way it shook slightly from the suppressed fear. Inhaling deeply she forced herself to remain calm and in control. Program was here. She wasn't alone. If she repeated the words often enough, maybe she would start to believe them at one point or the other.

[Voidus]

The spren had tried holding the fire in its hands, grasping it with its arms, even tried to kick it over with its feet. But the fire was stubbornly refusing to move from one candle to another. The spren didn't mind that, if someone had come along and tried to pull the spren to somewhere it didn't want to go it would have tried to resist as well. But if this fire didn't want to move to the other candle then how was it ever going to be lit?

It jumped down from its candle, racing in a streak of light towards the unlit wick of the other candle and stared at it, bright orange eyes challenging the wick, tried to communicate to the candle how much more fun being lit would be, that it might even call other spren here to itself if it could just light its wick on fire. The candle did not move, did not light and did not say anything in response. Perhaps the spren should try speaking as the humans did?

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"It's not an artefact I'm familiar with." The construct said, bowing its head regretfully. "But I shall endeavour to explain as best I am able based on what I am able to understand of it."

The symbols of its body spun around rapidly, causing a constant shifting to its surface that distorted its shape slightly, still recognisably human but otherwise just a featureless mass of shifting lines with few clear details. It continued to silently shift for a moment before the symbols finally began to still once more, settling back into place with only a few Aons sluggishly moving about the surface.

"This ring." The construct began "Carries a Connection to the Dor, a source of Investiture not dissimilar to Stormlight in some ways. Tapping into this Connection should allow its user to temporarily make use of that power in the creation of Aons, certain symbolic forms which are able to channel Investiture into specific effects based upon cognitive and spiritual aspects of the local geography and conceptual understandings of somewhat abstract concepts which can modify the core form."

The construct paused, seeming to wait for some sign of understanding before continuing, but at this moment there was a small crackle from the nearby unlit candle where the spren still waited.

"Burn!" The spren crackled in frustration.

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

Temeria frowned at the explanation, sighing when program lost her after the first sentence. Similar to stormlight. So it was powerful and she could probably use it in combat. She gave a slight shrug to indicate the she had no idea what tapping into the connection or what aspects he meant and lifted the ring. Mac had slipped it on his finger and something had happened. She could simply do the same and see what changed.

"What symbols do you -" she started to ask when the spren interrupted her. It was staring at the unlit candle in obvious frustration and she found herself smiling, despite the silent dread waiting for her in each shadowy corner. The house was quiet, apart from her steps when she walked over to the table, carrying her lit candle with her. She touched the flame to the wick and then set it down once both candles were burning.

"Better?" She asked the spren, and tried to ignore the fact that she was talking to a spren. They were mindless, and although she couldn't remember meeting a talking one before, she had never really paid attention to them. You didn't pay attention to a plant, and you didn't really pay attention to a spren. And you didn't talk to spren, just as you didn't talk to plants. This was bordering on crazy and she knew that she was trying to distract herself, to pretend, when in truth - Swallowing she balled her hands to fists, concentrated on the spren. He was a little piece of home that was strangely soothing, and that it was obviously was intelligent enough to express frustration, or joy made it easier to pretend. And she could pretend. It was here. That had to be enough for now. She reached out for it, fondly touched it's small body, at least moving her fingers in the right place. "Maybe program can tell us if that ring allows us to light a fire using that connection. Would you like to try?"

@Voidus

[Voidus]

The spren emitted a happy shower of sparks when the candle became lit, it held onto the wick with one arm, face pressed close to watch where the flame started in an intense show of curiosity.

"Better?" Temeria asked it.

The spren nodded rapidly, eyes still fixed to the candle to watch as it burned. The white wax-wrapped string of the wick slowly blackened as it burned, the spren was familiar with that. Most things did that when they burned. But this was slower than most things burned, it was still only a tiny little flame at the top of the candle, not spreading to the rest in the way that it would when other things burned.

It's head tilted back when it saw Temeria reaching towards it, staying still and watching curiously as she moved her fingers towards the sprens body and glowing a warm orange as she made contact.

"Maybe program can tell us if that ring allows us to light a fire using that connection. Would you like to try?" Temeria asked.

The spren tilted its head to one side curiously. It wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but she'd mentioned lighting a fire using a connection. The spren flared up for a moment in excitement, nodding rapidly to Temeria before remembering to speak.

"Yes! Make the fire, light the fire. Connection." It said, words tumbling rapidly from its glowing mouth. "Fire light. Light makes fire, fire makes light. But different light."

Still glowing brightly it twined itself around Temeria's hand, holding onto her and staring up with burning enthusiasm. It couldn't remember exactly what it needed to do, but it remembered a little. Temeria needed a connection, then she would be able to make fire. But she needed to do something first, needed to know something.

"The Words?" The spren crackled quietly, a much more subdued murmur.

[+Sorana]

6 hours ago, Voidus said:

"The Words?" The spren crackled quietly, a much more subdued murmur.

The words. Temeria found herself smiling when the spren twined itself around her hand, body glowing a warm orange. It held on to her, stared up with burning enthusiasm. Light makes fire, fire makes light. Light. Somehow she knew, that it wasn't talking about program. It was looking at her, as if she was important, as if it wanted to be here with her. And it had followed her around, even into the alley. Gently she tightened her fingers a little around the spren and tried to understand what she was supposed to do now. Light the fire.

"You're no fire spren, are you?" She said quietly, voiced her thoughts about how different the spren behaved from the ones she remembered. It played with fire, but it was too intelligent, acted in a way that made sense. Spren didn't make sense like that. They appeared and they played, but this one, it was holding on to her, it talked to her. More like Aln's spren had acted than - Aln's spren. She frowned looked at the spren again, tried to see something, anything out of place. There was nothing, apart from the fact that it was touching her, that it was clinging to her hand. And that alone was enough to make her pause to recall what had happened so far. It had followed them, had imitated Mac, had played with the children and it had always followed her around. It had never stopped, had searched for her, had looked for her. It was special. And it wanted to be with her.

She looked up at a loud sound from outside she couldn't place, listened for something indicating that this was a threat. The sound vanished again and left her behind in the empty, quiet house. Programs faint light slightly illuminated the room around her, as did the candles. Somehow that only enhanced the loneliness of the situation. She was used to the laughter of soldiers, of loud drunken voices, of shouting, boasting and gambling. Not this eerie quiet all around.

Taking a deep breath she forced her attention back to the spren, concentrated on the way it was holding on to her hand. It was here. And it wanted to be here. She repeated the words to herself. It wanted to be here. It wanted to be with her. It had even asked if she wanted to be his friend. It could have left long ago, could have left her alone. But it hadn't. It had stayed. "If I say the words." She said quietly, hesitantly, nearly had to force the words out of her mouth. They felt stale, weak, as if there should be a better reason, some noble goal. But here, with the emptiness pressing in on her, she found herself trembling slightly as she forced herself to form the next sentence. Three words, that included everything else, that spoke of nights alone and in darkness, of her brother and sister turning away of friends lying dead on the battlefield around her. Some had betrayed her, some had discarded, but they had all left. Left until she had nothing to hold on to, until she had been desperate enough to try to get home, if only to see the town where she had grown up again. She stared back into the spren's face, wrapped her other hand around it's back, held on to it. "Will you stay?"

Edited February 3, 2020 by Sorana

[Voidus]

The spren stared intently at Temeria, its body was flickering with the effort of staying still but it knew that this was an important moment. It was worth taking time to do this properly, and not simply rush into it. Even if had realized that it could talk to Temeria and she could talk back, and even if the spren really wanted to jump up and keep talking right now, it needed to let Temeria speak, and the spren needed to listen to what she was saying.

"You're no fire spren, are you?" She said quietly.

The spren shook its head, it liked fire, and it liked fire spren. But it wasn't the same as they were, it was different. Fire spren were fun to be around when there was fire, but they weren't interested in much else. They weren't even that interested in what was on fire, and how the fire changed it.

"If I say the words." Temeria said hesitantly, causing the spren to brighten in anticipation. "Will you stay?"

She held onto the spren, supporting it in her hands. The spren enjoyed that, being close, connected. But just touching wasn't the same as being connected, and it needed to be connected to remember what to do. Temeria would give the spren something, give it words, and the spren would give her something in return. Light? Firelight? No, the light that made the fires.

"Stay." The spren said, deliberately holding back the pace of its speech so it didn't rush. "Yes, need the words to stay. Can't be here without the words. But I want to be here, so we need the words. Needed to find someone to speak the words. Someone special."

[+Sorana]

But I want to be here. The words struck her core like a spear of light and she nodded, her throat closing. It wanted to be here, be with her. It thought she was special. She continued to hold on to it, tried to keep up with what was happening and somehow failed. Her thoughts continued to turn around that one single part. It wanted to be here, it wanted to stay. It was the first time someone wanted to be around her, saw more in her than just a possibility to impress their neighbours, or a sword to kill their enemies.

The words. She knew the words, had heard of them years ago, when she still had been her mother's beloved doll, smiling and pouring tea for their guests. She had changed, had seen it in her sister's eyes, in the way she had stared at her, at her scars and her weapon. She was a stranger, had cut all ties to her past and she might be able to forge them anew. With time and some luck probably as well. But this, this was different. This wasn't about her sister or the girl she had been. This was about herself about the woman she had become. The spren was here because of her. The same thought repeated again and again in different ways but all leading to the same point. She wasn't going to let him go again. She wanted for him to stay. And so she would speak the oath.

"Life before death." She started, her voice low as if unsure if she could really do this. "Strength," a pause when she considered the next ones when she questioned herself again. Could she do this? Could she really bind herself to words, to these ideals. So easily make a decision that would influence her whole life, that would change everything. A decision she had no idea how huge, how massive its consequences would be. "before weakness. Journey before destination." She continued quickly before she would stop, before she lost her courage. She nearly squeezed her eyes shut, fear that it hadn't worked, that she had messed it up one way or the other clutching her heart.

[Voidus]

"Life before death."

The spren perked up, leaning forward to peer at Temeria. It began to flicker chaotically, brightening beyond its previous merry glow, instead pulsing with white light from within in a rapid beat. It wanted to throw off sparks like fire, or leap around with excitement like the children in the square had. But it was still staring at Temeria with rapt attention, trembling slightly but otherwise still.

"Strength," Temeria continued before pausing for an almost unbearable time. "before weakness."

The spren hummed in satisfaction. It felt its heat rising as Temeria spoke, not hot enough to burn but hotter than normal. The heat of worked muscle, of a sword left in the sun all day. The heat of an ember that was building into true flame.

"Journey before destination."

The spren formed into a more clearly defined form that it had previously managed, the wisps of light that made up its figure resolving into a definite face that was grinning exuberantly as the final words rang across it. It flared into a bright white light as Stormlight streamed from the few nearby brackets that held infused spheres, the light surged towards the two of them.

"Radiant." The spren crackled happily as the light flowed into Temeria.

[+Sorana]

On 10.2.2020 at 5:54 AM, Voidus said:

"Radiant." The spren crackled happily as the light flowed into Temeria.

Temeria flinched the light surged towards her. Instinctively she lifted her hand, shifted her feet and readied herself to defend her life. Her arm passed uselessly through the light as it flowed towards her and she could only stare, fear spiking for a short moment when she wasn't able to keep up, to really understand what was happening.

"Radiant." She heard the spren crackle in what could be a happy way, but she wasn't entirely sure. Her eyes darted towards its face, as the light covered her for a moment, touched her skin and then moved on, into her body. When she saw it's grin she calmed, somehow knew that it was right, that it was good. She felt strong and glorious, better than she had in years. Aches she barely noticed anymore seemed to vanish under the storm that rushed through her and it took her a moment to realize that she was laughing. Her hands still held on to the spren, but she tightened her grip a little, the fear that it would leave her behind gone. It would stay. She knew it, knew it with every inch of her body. It would stay. Her own little friend.

A soft glow covered her skin, but she could already feel the wave of light pass over her, its effects subsiding. Something had changed, fundamentally changed, although she couldn't really place her finger on it. It was just - something. Awed she looked at the spren only now noticing the changes in its figure. It look incredibly close to human now, it's face defined, it's figure shaped like a little man.

"What is your name?" she asked it, lifting it up a little to be able to better see its face.

[Voidus]

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Sorry this has been a while in the coming, been a hectic time lately.

The spren smiled up at Temeria, enthusiasm and excitement suffusing its entire body. Little sparks of energy periodically burst out from it, it's joy literally too much to contain in a single, stable form.

"What is your name?": Temeria asked, lifting the spren up to eye level.

The spren's eyes connected with hers, searching for something within them before its smile widened still further. 

"Ember." The spren replied, voice low and rolling. "I am Ember, Temeria."

Ember tried to contain his excitement, the sense of satisfaction at having achieved, at least in part, what it had set out to do. He could only faintly remember setting out now, but the memories would return with time now that he had formed a bond. He would give Temeria something, and receive something back in turn, a connection which would allow him to remain here without reverting to one of the simpler spren.

"And I am very glad to have met you." The spren finished, still smiling.

There was a moment of silence which was then suddenly broken as another figure spoke. Making a sound as though to clear its throat, though it didn't seem to have one, the construct looked at the scene with a curious expression.

"Interesting." It said politely. "This is my first time seeing someone bond a spren up close before."
@Sorana

[+Sorana]

Temeria whirled around when contruct spoke again, instinctively reaching for her sword with one hand while moving Ember to her chest in a protective gesture with her other. She relaxed when she saw that it wasn't doing anything, only watching them curiously and silently scolded herself for her reaction. It wasn't like she had forgotten about it. It was more - so far it had never done anything without being adressed first. Reassessing her first impression of what it could do, she gave a curt nod and let go of the hilt of her sword. Her eyes didn't leave construct while she tried to figure out what to say next and then, when she couldn't think of something appropriate, she simply nodded again.

She made a vague gesture with her hand while she tried to decide what to do next and looked down at Ember again, watched his burning body for a moment and found herself grinning slightly. She could always start with the obvious, and decide later what else she might need to learn as well. But for now, there was only one thing she really needed to learn, if only to make Ember happy should she have no candle at hand.

"Can you show me, us, how to make a magical fire?" She asked and remembering Ember's words about a different fire she quickly added. "Both ways if possible."

@Voidus

[+Sorana]

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This thread has now moved to E5.

Temeria finished cleaning the tables and sighed, leaned back and pressed both of her hands into her back. It hurt from all the bending forward, swiping the tables clean. Amber was playing with a candle nearby and she smiled at him, before she took the bucket with dirt water over to the kitchen. She knew that she needed some help, but she'd been reluctant to hire anybody, unsure whether she could live from the boarding house or not. She hadn't changed its name, wanted to keep it Mac's as a memory, a gesture of gratefullness. Without him, without him, she would have died on her first day in this city.

Emptying the bucket she placed it on a rack to dry and then sighed, tried to decide what to do now. Sweep the floor probably and make sure the stew was cooking gently. The rooms were clean, the library cleaned up. Any new guests could come anytime. Heading back into the larger guest room that also served as a tavern she smiled while she moved the chairs out of her way. It was a good feeling to be here, to do something else but walk over a battlefield. It was peaceful.

Her hand touched the pen in her pocket and her smile widened a little when she remembered stepping into that alley, meeting this strange woman. She had been strong, with the cold eyes Temeria recalled from her officers. But she had been nice, hadn't killed her without a reason. Unlike many of her officers had tried. It was a good feeling to have a fallback, a way to call for help should it be needed. She knew that the offer was still standing, that she could join - but she wasn't sure if she wanted to. The respite, the peace, they helped with her dreams, they calmed her. For now she wanted to fully arrive, to make a living of her own. If she joined a guild it would be because she chose to do so, not because she feared she would starve if she didn't. She wouldn't repeat that mistake again.

Rubbing her leg she frowned at the familiar ache in a particularly large scar. A spear, it had been a spear. And she had gutted its wielder ins response. His intestines had fallen out, had curled over her hands, his eyes wide in fear and pain. She sighed again, tried to focus on sweeping the floor. It was clean, she'd swiped it yesterday and the day before as well. She swiped it daily. But it kept her busy, kept her thoughts off these memories, of a time over a month away. She had been here for a month. It was a weird thought, and she smiled at Amber for a moment before going on with her cleaning. She could do it. She knew she could. She had been thrown twice into a foreign world and this time, this time she would choose her path. With a guild, without a guild, with help, without help. She didn't care. She only cared that this was her life. Not her sister's, not her brother's. Hers.

Proudly she looked around, through the tavern room she had added this last month. The first guests were already coming, word was spreading about the tavern she had added. It was good. Important first steps on her way to becoming independent. And once she was, then she would decide on anything else. But first, first she needed to get this place running.

@ZincAboutIt

[Die_eike]

Spike had been wandering through the maze of alleys, cold, confused, and angry. Colours! What was this place? And how did she get here? People had been staring at her oddly and avoiding her when she wanted to approach them. People? The strangest things had crossed her way, things she did not want to get close to in her current state. Which was one of desolation. She was freezing and worse: hungry. This was the worst day in her life. Wait, second-worst. Her head was hurting and she couldn't remember the last few hours. Hours? Days? She wasn't even sure how much time she had lost. Are you whining? Stop sniveling and keep calm. Spike drew a deep breath, but this only succeeded to draw her attention to her belly. With shaking fingers, she fumbled for the last of her raisins in her pockets. Two raisins. That was all she had. Before she could make any conscious decision, she had popped them into her mouth, chewing quickly. She felt as if she could think better now. She didn't know about the rest of this city, but where she came from, this was called a bad neighbourhood. She had to find someplace safe.

Donovan Avenue. The street seemed a mess like the others, but there was an old brownstone building drawing her attention. It actually looked nice, inviting. There was a smell wafting through the air... Was that the smell of ... stew?! Spike strode closer to the building, possible dangers forgotten. Mac's Boarding House, a sign read. Without hesitation, she knocked at the door and entered.

[+ZincAboutIt]

Kit wended her way down a side street, brushing past a group of teenagers heading in the opposite direction. Their bright, cheaply-made costumes flashed in the low light, and they giggled amongst themselves, surreptitiously passing a little bottle of something between them. They looked somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen, about four years younger than Kit herself. One of the taller, braver boys in the group gave her a wink as he passed; Kit humored him with a giggle, then continued on.

She had been told on more than one occasion that she looked like a barmaid. Kit imagined that it could have bothered her, if it weren't so true. A riot of bouncy golden curls spilled down her shoulders, framing lightly-freckled apple cheeks that were often rounded with a smile. Her eyes were blue shot through with green, upturned slightly at the corners thanks to someone in her family that was probably Rosharan. Kit wasn't sure; her mother hadn't had much discretion in her personal life, and Kit's father was a mystery.

No one really cared about her mother's penchant for lovers, though. They just cared about the oysters that she brought up from the Alleyharbor. They had been the best in the city, and Kit had always assumed that she'd inherit the trade from her mother one day. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case. Illness and unforeseen debts had buried her mother and Kit's expectations alike. Now, she was on her own, and it was up to her to find a new life for herself.

Which was why she found herself walking up to a cozy-looking brownstone building on Festival night, instead of sharing a bottle of cheap rum with Jarem, the grocer's oldest son. Kit idly wondered if Jarem would wait for her, or if he'd find someone else to share the night with. She stood for a moment on the step, then decided that it didn't matter. It was time to put her looks to good use. She pushed open the door, and walked in.

The front room of Mac's Boarding House was homey and pleasant, the sort of place that immediately felt familiar, that beckoned a person to sit down, order a drink, and stay a while. Something was cooking in the back, a meaty, hearty smell that might have been stew or a roast, and one other customer hung about in the entry. Kit moved past them, stepping up to the bar and rapping her knuckles on the warmly-colored wood.

"Word is you're looking for hired help," she called into the back. "Is that still the case?"

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

"Welcome." Temeria stepped back into the front room, smiling at the first two guests of the day. Her eyes moved through the room another time, trying to discover details she still needed to take care of. It looked good. And as soon as the first ones were seated, nobody care about the details anymore anyway.

With a friendly gesture towards one of the tables she smiled at one of the two women. She looked half starved, cold and definitely in need of a place to rest and to eat something. Just like she had been not too long ago. Her cloths reminded her of those she had seen for years back in Nalthis and she made a mental note to listen carefully when she spoke the next time, curious to see if she could pick up a corresponding accent.

"Please take a seat. If you want to, you can leave your coat in the wardrobe." she offered. "I've got a stew cooking that should be ready any minute, some freshly baked bread, and some chocolate cake for dessert."

And of course many different kinds to drink as well, but that fact felt so obvious she didn't saw the need to mention it. The room was a tavern after all. You could even see some of the bottles behind the bar. The bar that was empty, apart from the few moments she spent there to fill up some glasses and carry them out to the tables, while at the same time trying to prevent whatever she'd cooked from burning and listening to orders. She needed help. And thank the Almighty, somehow help had found its way here.

"It is." she replied to the woman, who looked about the same age she was. "I didn't hire anybody so far. My name is Temeria. I run this place."

She smiled at her, tried not to look towards Amber and his candle. Hopefully the woman liked spren. Otherwise - she couldn't hire her. Not if it made Amber unhappy. She had never hired anybody before and wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to ask, whether she should advertise the job, or first let the woman introduce herself. Shifting her weight to her other foot she decided to start with a question herself. In the end she would pay the woman's wages. So she should be the one asking questions.

"Are you experienced working in a tavern?" she inquired. "I've got a boarding house upstairs, so some of the guests stay over night as well. Some only stay downstairs for a meal or a drink or two, and some spend most of their time in the library."

@Die_eike @ZincAboutIt

[Rosharan A.C.]

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I think I wanna introduce my character here. Would it be alright if I said that he‘s been living in one of the rooms for a few days already?

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

9 hours ago, Rosharan A.C. said:

I think I wanna introduce my character here. Would it be alright if I said that he‘s been living in one of the rooms for a few days already?

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Sure, go ahead!

 

[Rosharan A.C.]

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Awesome! Well, here goes nothin'...

A mouthwatering smell, that of fresh stew, wafted through the common room. It passed the conversing women, filling the room with its succulent aroma, until it found a convenient hole in the ceiling. Up the stairs it went, finding a door here and there, where it quietly slipped into rooms. The smell floated down the hall, past quaint, well-kept decorum that gave the board-house a welcoming feel. Eventually, it came to to a wall, and the last place it could go was under a door that looked much like any other. Beyond was a well lit room, simple and unadorned. On a chair in the corner was draped a long, voluminous cloak, with at least a dozen pockets that bulged from various contents. A green cloak laid on top of it, thinner, yet somehow more enveloping. The smell lazily flowed across the room, to a bed, where a thin but well-built man with black curls sat, strumming a lute.

Desmund took in a deep breath. Is that stew? It smells heavenly. He glanced towards the door, and sighed. He hadn't spent much time yet meeting anyone in this interesting city, or in the boarding house even, much to his dismay. He had had more pressing tasks. I'm sure a little relaxing couldn't hurt, could it? And if anyone else is down in the tavern, I could strike up a good conversation. But I've been so busy, getting settled, and figuring out what to do next. 

He paused for a moment, and played a quiet tune on the lute. Well it's not like I'm doing anything important right now. When times of indecision came, the best thing to do was just pick something. He stopped strumming, and slipped his head and arm through the lute's strap, settling it on his back. He then rose from the bed, and walked casually out the door.

On his way quietly down the stairs, he unconsciously took in all of his surroundings, noting tables, lights... all of the little details. His mind focused as the three women came into view, and he gave a faint smile. Looks like I'll have some company after all. That's Miss Temeria, I think. His smile faded once the noticed how haggard one of the women looked, and he immediately grew concerned. However, he steeled himself after seeing that they were already being taken care of.

The strong scent hit him again, and his mouth began to water. Desmund sat down a few tables away from the group, not wanting to interrupt. I'll just wait until they're finished. Perhaps someone will bring out the stew soon.

Quote

I think that went well . It's longer than I expected, but for my first post with Desmund, it's not bad.

@Sorana @ZincAboutIt @Die_eike

Edited July 21, 2020 by Rosharan A.C.
just a slight change. I figured he knew Temeria, since he's been staying at the boarding house.

[+Sorana]

7 hours ago, Rosharan A.C. said:

The strong scent hit him again, and his mouth began to water. Desmund sat down a few tables away from the group, not wanting to interrupt. I'll just wait until they're finished. Perhaps someone will bring out the stew soon.

Temeria turned her head when one of her guests stepped into the room and turned his head. She shot an apologetic look at the other two, repeated her invitening gesture towards a chair and then walked over to his table.

"I'm glad to see you're up and well." she greeted him with a smile. Desmund he'd called himself when he'd rented the room a few days ago. He was a quiet one, despite his lute, maybe new to the city, or just looking for some respite. Whatever it was, he had ended up in a good place. A faint smile touched her lips when she remembered her conversation with Mac, how he'd hired her to a guard, despite being able to take care of whatever came this way all by himself. And then, then he had taken the time to show her around, offered her a chance to get to know this new place. He had taken time for her and in these few hours he had looked past her sword, had talked to her, not to someone he was considering ways to kill. She had enjoyed the time, how different it was. It had been a while since she had been more than a number on a sheet of paper, naming active soldiers.

"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked friendly, her eyes lingering on the lute. Maybe she could ask him to play now and then. Especially in the evenings that could be an advantage, get a few more guests into the house.

[Rosharan A.C.]

16 hours ago, Sorana said:

"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked friendly, her eyes lingering on the lute. Maybe she could ask him to play now and then. Especially in the evenings that could be an advantage, get a few more guests into the house.

"Well perhaps some of that stew, if it's ready. I can wait if you need to talk to those two though. I'm in no rush. Just looking for a meal and a bit of company." He nearly chose to leave out that last part, but it was true. Quick decisions. Quick decisions were always best.

He let his mind wander for a moment, then looked up with a start. He had left his satchel upstairs! Should he go back and get it? He felt uncomfortable not having it with him. And from what he had heard, there were plenty of shady types in this city. What if someone stole it? Would anyone want to steal it? He doubted soulstamps were terribly uncommon in this place, but still...

He started to rise from his chair, and then stopped midway, doubtful. Quick decisions. Just make a choice. He sat back down. It... it'll be fine. I trust the owner of this boarding house. It's just in my room; I doubt anything will happen to it. Leaving now, after just asking for stew would be rude anyway. "Sorry, I just... thought I forgot something. Like I said. Some stew would be appreciated, but I can wait."

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

"It's no trouble." Temeria smiled warmly at him and waited to see if he wanted something else. Maybe a beer or some water with syrup. When he didn't, she smiled again and walked over to the door next to her bar, leading into the kitchen. She filled a bowl with stew and added some cream into a small cup, so that he could choose whether to use it or not. She liked some in her stew, it added a nice, creamy touch, but she found that with the many cultures mixing in this place everybody liked different things.

Quickly she cut several slices of homebaked, dark bread and placed them on the side of the bowl before returning to his table. "Whatever you forgot - it's safe." she assured him while setting his meal down in front of him. "At the moment only I work here and there's nobody else left upstairs. So there is no way anybody could get to it."

Looking over to the two women she sat down at his table. "A meal is easy." she gestured to his bowl. "And company - it you want to, you can stay for a few days - " hesitating she looked at his lute again. "Or maybe, after you left drop by now and then in the evening, play a little for my guests. It would be nice to have a few familiar faces coming by regularly. I only opened the tavern recently, so I don't have a lot of at the moment."

@Rosharan A.C.

Edited July 22, 2020 by Sorana

[Rosharan A.C.]

On 7/22/2020 at 2:49 AM, Sorana said:

"Whatever you forgot - it's safe." she assured him while setting his meal down in front of him. "At the moment only I work here and there's nobody else left upstairs. So there is no way anybody could get to it."

Looking over to the two women she sat down at his table. "A meal is easy." she gestured to his bowl. "And company - it you want to, you can stay for a few days - " hesitating she looked at his lute again. "Or maybe, after you left drop by now and then in the evening, play a little for my guests. It would be nice to have a few familiar faces coming by regularly. I only opened the tavern recently, so I don't have a lot of at the moment."

@Rosharan A.C.

His shoulders relaxed visibly. Desmund gave a genial smile as he listened to Temeria continue. "I think that would be nice too. Playing in the evenings, seeing some familiar faces. And I think staying here a few more days would be nice too. Thank you."

He dipped a slice of bread in the stew, and brought it to his mouth. "Mmm. As good as it smells." He gave her another smile, and began working on the meal.

Edited July 24, 2020 by Rosharan A.C.

[+ZincAboutIt]

On 7/16/2020 at 11:30 PM, Sorana said:

"Are you experienced working in a tavern?" she inquired. "I've got a boarding house upstairs, so some of the guests stay over night as well. Some only stay downstairs for a meal or a drink or two, and some spend most of their time in the library."

Kit smiled. "I've worked in lots of taverns, on and off. Never had a full-time job, but I helped out a lot down in Alleyharbor. Took over the bar for a whole summer at The High Tide when the innkeeper's wife had her baby."

She watched the woman interact with her few customers, thinking.

"If you'd want help housekeeping, I'd be willing, though I'd prefer room and board here if I'd be expected at all hours."