Perchance a Room? (Sam26, ET)

[Fialessa Valenstri]

The Burpin Dragon is a two floor friendly Inn for those travelers down on their luck. Run by an odd couple this Inn caters to the poor and kind of heart. Here a man or woman can get experienced advice, new jokes and a place to stay for a very low price. Bardic and rogueish people tend to frequent this Inn the most. Bards share their talents and compete in a friendly atmosphere, while rogues can feel safe and secure for a night.

The well decorated foyer contains a grumbling old dwarf behind a desk, a place to hang your coat, a few comfy seats to rest in while waiting to check in, and a few baked goods to sample while your relaxing.

A stairway leads up to the second floor and a doorway leads into the Bar, where sounds of merry fun can be heard.


Fia made her way into the Burpin Dragon after her time at the temple. More than anything the bright haired adhiel wanted a bath and to sleep. She needed to find someplace sort of permanent to reside at least until she found someplace more permanent. Perhaps this was the place.

She looked about on the busy Rasday noting the severe difference in patronage between here and Pan's Temple. The girl almost sighed, but instead of continuing to draw up comparisons she wandered nearer the bar in search of someone who looked relatively in charge. Self consciously she touched her hair hoping it didn't look too bad. “Ah Pardon me...” She said in common trying to get someone's attention.

[OOC: It was suggested that I not invade the other thread in this place at the same time...]

[Grant]

(OOC: That's probably true since it's a secret meeting, and you've no IC pretense to find it just yet. But Trust in The Grant The Grant is all-seeing and wicked! )

It would have been ludicrous to describe the Burpin Dragon as busy. Busy was a word used to describe markets bristling with customers and activity, a crew busy tacking a ship, or maybe the streets at the close of Tradetide, when all the workers went to their homes or their favorite pubs to relax. It didn't quite touch upon the wanton bedlam that filled the taproom of the Burpin Dragon on a Rasday Eveningtide.

Wall to wall, the thick din of the crowds was oppressive. The sound alone as enough to be felt, clinging to Fialessa's flesh like a strong breeze. And there was a breeze, perhaps from the heat of so many people breathing and warming the air, a breeze that carried with it the smells of soap, old wood, bodies at the end of a day, stale beer, and wonderful food. It was not an altogether unpleasant smell, proof enough that the Burpin Dragon was at the very least respectable. Indeed, there weren't even any seats immediately available, with only a few at the bar...a traditionally undesirable place to sit...readily apparent.

Not that Fialessa had long to look before she took upon her the form of a little girl. That is to say, a little girl collided with her, having clearly been distracted with her thoughts elsewhere. A pair of larger men...possibly guards or relatives...stood just behind her, large, thick men that were clearly either bodyguards, mercenaries, or possibly off-duty guardsmen. The girl couldn't have been more than twelve, her dark, silky hair tied into two great tails and her pale, flawless complexion proof enough that, in another five yahren or so, she might aspire to break more than a few hearts. "Oh! Excuse me, Fialessa," murmured the little girl, before she stepped aside to allow the newcomer to pass. In addition, the little girl pointed towards one table...a single booth...that she and her two accomplices had only just vacated, the only free table in the room.<hr>She's here.

Who?

The second message.

Late, I see.

What should I do?

Just go. I've already handled matters.

Yasmin slipped around Fialessa and moved on to the door, though she stole a few quick glances at the newcomer. It was clever...but then, Simon had always been clever, clever enough to make the impossible seem almost routine. Yasmin had all but given up on the second message ever showing up, and now she was here...and now things would happen as they should.

Like I said, Yasmin...no faith, came the silent whisper of the Crow, the massive, black, Aetheric bird perched upon Yasmin's shoulder....a bird that none could see or hear as it directed the eveningtide's events.

[Fialessa Valenstri]

Little about the crowd or even the smell phased her, the boat... ship... whatever she had been on earlier was nearly as crowded – but it smelled worse. She saw that she was going to get nowhere very quickly standing about attempting to be polite.

As the collision happened, Fialessa might have thought nothing of it had she not been run into by a little girl! “Of course...pardon me...” was her answer to the child. She however stood momentarily agog, not because the pretty little thing was a child but because the child knew her name. It was not but another flicker before she passed by and snapped up the empty table pointed out to her by the girl, she could ponder the absurdity of the little girl knowing her name as she sat down.

The travel weary, soul weary adhiel actually sank into the seat, her mind still on the girl. Committing her form and face to memory – in as much as she could. She then waited for well someone to come to the table...

[Grant]

In the driving throngs of the Rasday crowds, it was unlikely Fialessa would see any great service at her table. Indeed, a few burns passed before anyone bothered to notice her, but when she did, she saw attention quickly. A young woman with caramel hair advanced and won free of the crowds well enough to slip into the seat opposite her, her face flushed and her very demeanor one of extreme haste and confusion.

"Evenin'tide, hun! I'm Beatrice. How kin ah help ya taday? A spot to drink, or maybe somethin from the kitchens, too? We've a fine soup today. Chicken with potatos, if'n I see it rightly..." she started, though her words couldn't distract Fialessa from catching sight of a small group of people descend from the upper level of the inn and slip out the front door immediately, clearly intent upon some purpose.

[Fialessa Valenstri]

Lucky for her that she was in no great hurry as she noticed the bustle of the busy room. At least she could get a little grasp of the citizenry of this new place. But when finally she was noticed she gave a bright grin to Beatrice.

“My but it is busy in here.” the adhiel noted with a little laugh. She of course noted the people leaving the inn, why she'd note them she wasn't so sure. But it was not time for her to follow after just out of idle curiosity. It would seem strange, and so she noted the more prominent features of them in case she might run across them one day. “I think that the soup sounds wonderful... I wonder too if you might be able to tell me if there are any rooms available here as well...” For of course that was her real purpose.

[Grant]

Beatrice insured that indeed, rooms were always available...which wasn't entirely true, but it was at least true for the moment. Bobbing a quick curtsey, she fled off to fetch Fialessa's needs and insured her she would inquire with Bill about one of those very rooms...and soon enough she had disappeared into the crowd to fetch the newest guest's needs, as brief and orderly as any experienced waitress or barmaid might be.

But when she returned, something seemed...perhaps amiss. It only took her perhaps a few flickers to fetch the soup...it was kept hot and ready to serve at this mark of the day...and after setting Fialessa's meal down before her, she curtseyed once more and proclaimed, "That'll be a coronet, if you please," declaring a price that was absolutely astonishing for what amounted to a bowl of soup, a small barge of bread, a mug of the local cider, and even a room for the rest of the week. Indeed, it seemed impossible that Fialessa could spend as much as a coronet in any four days at the Dragon, much less for one sitting.

[Fialessa Valenstri]

A coronet... a whole coronet... surely she's joking...The thoughts whirled and Fialessa's eyebrows shot up in amazement and then she eyed Beatrice suspiciously. “I hadn't been thinking of paying an entire month in advance... Is that the way things are done here then?” She asked, sincerely hoping that they weren't trying to cheat her but not so certain as all that.

The girl had her hands folded, not having made a move toward either her purse or the food. Instead her eyes stayed steadily on the woman before her.

[Grant]

"Hahahaha!" tittered the barmaid casually upon hearing Fialessa's remarks. "Oh, it is not a month for which you pay, hun, but the soup you sent up to one of the rooms...room twenty one?" she cocked her head to one side. "Bill and Yosie took it up a little while ago. Enough for....gracious!...a half dozen? With those wonderful little breads that go so well with Bill's chicken soup..." she droned on, waiting patiently for the tab to be filled.

Of course, the soup was quite amazing to the smell...and to the eye, a lovely affair of chickens, potatoes, vegetables, and clearly perfectly designed for the little breads that had been brought to Fialessa as well. Not that it was worth a coronet, but it was indeed a very fine soup.

[Fialessa Valenstri]

Pretty amber coloured eyes narrowed at what she was being told... “How is it possible that I sent soup up to a room I only just now found out existed, and only just arrived.” her voice started to raise an octave. “Is this how newcomers to the city are treated... being stuck with someone else's bill... And when Naomi within Pan's Temple recommended this place so highly...”

The little adhiel raised herself up to her feet, “Who are these people in room twenty one? And who are Bill and Yosie? I have only been here but a few flickers and you are the only person I have talked too... Is that the way to room twenty one?” Fialessa pointed to where she had earlier seen those other people who had already left. She aimed to find out and without waiting even a handful of flickers she had hold of her bag and was storming her way over to this room twenty one. Well as much as a person such as herself could storm, annoyance and anger fairly radiating from her, a rarity at best.

[Grant]

It was perhaps the scorn in Fialessa's words that struck Beatrice as odd. Indeed, mistakes did happen...and in most cases they were quickly corrected...but the mistress seemed perfectly hostile over it, as if she were being held prisoner! And what was worse, her situation was one of which Beatrice had no knowledge, having been notified to the debt by Bill earlier. Indeed, it was...a very shocking situation, and Beatrice was too astonished at first to hear or even attend to the irate client's barrage of questions.

But astonishment didn't cling to a tavern wench quickly. In fact, she had managed irate customers before...and most of them were, with precious few exceptions, larger men with filthy mouths, and they often took to verbal abuse in many different languages. Thankfully, this patron hadn't been exactly abusive as yet...but she was clearly irate, and her venomous scorn of the Dragon...a workplace that Beatrice adored very much...would no doubt turn to abuse soon enough.

"Well then why don't you just take those little breads I gave you and shove them RIGHT UP YER ARSE?!?" hollered Beatrice, slamming her platter down upon the table with enough force to topple the Bill's Chicken Soup all over the table. Turning, she stalked away towards the bar, the sounds of jeers, taunts, and laughter from the other patrons located just nearby. Alone once again, Fialessa couldn't help but notice the occasional eyes that slipped over to her in wry amusement at Beatrice' recent outburst.

[Fialessa Valenstri]

Fialessa did not turn to respond to Beatrice's rather rude retort. Though she did not understand the why of it for the tavern wench was not the one who had been wronged. She had been. And she was now full of righteous indignation which propelled her up the steps to where she might find room twenty-one.

It occurred to Fia as she tilted her chin up to ignore the stares of those in the room aimed at her, that perhaps that little girl had some such to do with it all. She had been sitting there in that space and she had known her very name. It was perplexing enough to where she had calmed only the slightest bit as she arrived up the stairs and stood at the room she could only assume was room twenty-one. Her annoyance was such that she did not bother to knock instead just pulling open the door not caring what sheinterrupted...

ooc - had to edit in the url

[Danomel]

After leaving the Repository, Danomel headed back to the Burpin Dragon. It was still early trade tide, and he took his time returning, savoring the somewhat quieter environment that rasday presented. It was a good chance to explore some of city that he had not had the opportunity to frequent before. Still, it was several marks before eveningtide when he reached the inn.

Sparing only a brief glance towards the taproom, Danomel mounted the stairs to his own room. Pausing at the door he listened carefully, before opening the door. Briefly scanning the room before entering, he checked to see that things where as he had left them. The satchel was still under the bed, and the window closed but unlatched.

Once satisfied about the condition of the room, he sat down on the bed with his back against the wall, facing the window. Holding the feather in his hand he slowly turned it over several times, studying it in minute detail, as if by will alone he could fathom the mystery it represented.

After several burn, he sighed and set the feather down on the bed next to him. Nothing to do but wait. Relaxing, he let his mind wander as he watched the sky outside the window for the approach of dusk.

[Guest]

She slipped in like a feather on the breeze. Hair a little unkempt, feet bare, she was a girl born to be noticed but strove now to be ignored. The blanket she carried rolled under the crook of her arm her only worldly possessions other than the simple shift she wore. A waif, a stray, nothing more. Ceris slid through the bustling crowd in the Dragon, wincing as booted feet crushed her bare toes but moving forcefully for girl so young.

The shift was stolen, taken from a clothes-line left out too late in the day - as was the blanket that hid her mantreau veren. She did not mind the theft, it was a simple thing of neccesity. Nude girls invariably got better receptions than nude boys, but she would rather have no reception at all. Passing through a ream of smoke she found the stairwell and began to climb. Third on the left, I just hope he is not in. And left his door unlocked. With some food. Her mind raced, this would be perhaps the most interesting part as she tried to break in.

Tentatively, she reached for the door handle.

[Danomel]

Contemplating the scene outside the window as the light of day slowly fades, something draws Danomels attention, breaking his mussing about the swan feather, the mystery it represented, and Ceris - the girl he suspects of leaving it.

What? A sound? The door!? Expected the window! Something different? Someone else comes to my door! So soft a sound, trying to be stealthy? Caution or brashness?

As thoughts tumble through his mind, Danomel moves quickly toward the door. Grabbing the latch, he quickly pulls it open!

“Ceris?” Danomel whispers as he sees the startled girl, with outstretched hand framed by the doorway, who was obviously not expecting the door to open so quickly. She was the one trying the latch. Was definitely expecting the window, Danomel thought to himself.

Taking note of the light shift she was wearing, Danomel quickly grabs the outstretched hand and pulls her into the room. Sparing a moment for a quick glance up and down the hall, he closes the door.

Turning his back to the door, Danomel holds up both open hands, then folds his arms across his chest and leans against the door. “I must apologize, but by the way you are dressed, I did not get the impression that you desired to remain in the hall. Your bag is still under the bed where you left it.” He says quickly.

Danomel sighs and continues in a more normal voice. “I was told this morning that my goose had escaped out the window. This naturally made me curious, so I came up to investigate. Imagine my surprise when you where not in the room, and I know you did not come down the stairs. I found a few swan feathers by the window, which is possibly a good thing, as I was sure that I did not have a goose. Of course I am equally sure I do not have a swan either. So I am somewhat perplexed at the moment. I suspect you might provide some much desired enlightenment.”

Danomel takes a few moments to look Ciris over. Very nice! He remembered that she was attractive from the early morning meeting. However, a long look would have been less than polite in front of others. Even in private he thought he might be bordering on rudeness. He continues, “Though I would guess that at the moment you might like a few minutes of privacy to change to more appropriate attire, assuming you are not planning on disappearing again?”

[Guest]

Ceris jumped as Danomel hauled her into his room. She did not really have time to fight back against the larger and stronger guy and only a dancer's balance stopped her from landing on her ass as he closed the door behind her.

"My eyes are up here." She spoke, noticing his wandering gaze. "And yes, I would appreciate some privacy to change if it is all the same to you." She spoke in her lilting Islay accent, strangely foreign to anyone born of the citadel. "Its getting cold."

She uncerimoniously dropped her blanket on the bed and, on hands and knees removed her satchel from under the bed.

How many people check under their beds as a matter of course... honestly...

City life was going to be hard.

[Danomel]

Danomel feels the color rising in his checks as he pulls his gaze back to her face. This is not going real good, but then what did I expect?

Tearing his eyes away from the girl, and straightening up, he turns towards the door. “I apologize for startling you,” he says with a sigh.

As he opens the door, he says “I still would like an explanation about this whole goose/swan thing. Was not what I was expecting, that’s all.”

Stepping into the hall, he turns back towards the girl, “Let me know when you are decent.” Danomel closes the door and leans against it, and waits.

[Guest]

Ceris balked. It felt like her carefully constructed world was falling down around her. She needed to get to the university, now.

Sure that Danomel had closed the door, her shift fell neatly to the floor and she stepped out of it to stand naked in the room. She spent a little time making herself presentable, using a pitcher of water to scrub off the dirt that her bare feet had picked up and to freshen her face. She combed her hair to free it of its tangles and quickly pulled on her dress. It was a pretty thing, made of grey Muchislie silk, a gift from her father for her 16th birthday (such as it was reckoned). It fitted her chest well and a simple divide up the left leg gave her a certain freedom of movement. She ran one hand down her leg, still smooth - no need to shave.

A few choice pieces of jewellery, a little perfume and some kohl carefully applied in the window reflection and Ceris felt perhaps better equipped for any interview at the university. She fingered her hair - the feathers in it a nice touch she reflected. She smiled. An idea.

She tossed the shift under the bed and replaced her mantreau veren in the stachel where her dress had been. Her mind raced swiftly, concocting lies was nothing new to her, but she usually did not have as much riding on one.

"Im ready." She called out, voice coy and teasing. One bridge at a time.

[Danomel]

Danomel paused as he entered the room. He felt himself staring again as he thought to himself Focus! Focus! no distractions.

Closing the door behind him, Danomel made a conscious effort to look directly at Ceris’s face as his mind ponders the mystery she represents. Yes, very pretty indeed! Stop that! Focus!

Danomel moves away from the door and over to the bed, giving the girl a clear path if she chooses to bolt.

“I must apologize again for catching you off guard like that.” Danomel begins. “But I am curious. As I said, it was reported that a goose flew from my room. However, the feathers I found suggest a mute swan, very unusual as such a creature is not native to this place.”

Danomel watches Ceris’s face carefully, trying to gauge her reactions to his words. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he continues “I am really interested to hear about this swan that was in my room, yet should not even be on this island.”

[Guest]

Ceris moved with deliberate care, reaching to her hair with one hand and, carefully - she removed one of the feathers that nestled there. She twirled it in her hand and held it out to him.

"A decoration." She flicked her hair behind on ear. "Something my mother used to do before she passed, I still have a few of her feathers left, I must have missed that one when I snuck out." She stooped to pick up her stachel. The rough bag clashed with the finesse of her clothing, but she had no other choice but to carry it.

"Im sorry for your Goose, It must have flown by the time I arrived. Perhaps you should lock your windows more thoroughly." Ceris walked over to the door. "Thank you for your hospitality Danomel."

[Danomel]

Getting pretty deep in here, Danomel thinks to himself. He lets out a laugh in spite of himself.

“Sorry about that. I know it is not polite to laugh, but that is a rather clever dodge. Though I must say your attempt at indifference is a bit trite, you should work on that because it will not fool anyone around here. If you don’t want to tell me that is fine. I think I have all the pieces of the puzzle. They will come together eventually.”

Danomel stands up. “I shall not push the issue. However, if I have not totally offended you, perhaps there is someplace you wish to be escorted? I would guess I am somewhat more familiar with the layout of the city than you.”

[Guest]

Ceris smiled. Just a smile, that touched her eyes as easily as her lips. It seemed as if she had resolved some inner question and was happy with the outcome. She held Danomel's eyes and nodded.

"The University, if it isnt too far out of your way." She grinned and held out the feather. In that moment she seemed younger somehow, more carefree. "A second one for your collection." She offered it freely, the white feather resting lightly on her palm.

She did not know how well known swan-maiden lore was in general. There were certain characteristics that gave her away, she would have to consider her guise carefully - especially within the University. How would she convince them that she could only attend classes in the night time? How would she gain such privacy as to be able to change alone? What could she do about the feathers and the orange lips? She wondered...

"Danomel, not all questions need an answer. Sometimes there is more peace in just the asking rather than the finding out." She swallowed, words did not come naturally to her.

[Danomel]

A shadow seems to pass across Danomels face. “Many times there is no peace in the asking.”

Taking the offered feather, Danomel bows to Ceris. “A ladies favor, I thank you for it then.”

“Moving over to the door, Danomel opens it for Ceris. “May I carry your satchel for you? And then we can be off. The guild is not far, but we should probably be going as the day winds to a close rather quickly.”

[Guest]

Ceris stopped herself, she had been about to hand over the satchel, the satchel containing her mantreau veren. She smiled, wittingly or not - Danomel had come dangerously close to 'owning' Ceris' soul. So easily were such mistakes made. She covered the shock of the realisation with a smile.

"I will be fine, thankyou. If you wish to take my arm however, you may." She extended one sun kissed hand and cocked her head in question.

"As you say, the day is a'wasting - lead the way kind sir."

(ooc: Continued here)

[Grant]

~Fin!

Looks fabulous to me! Sent for skillz and archiving!

-Granty

[Grey Wolf]

Skilled by Bill the Dwarf.