Lunch at the Ha'Penny Mermaid [Jygust 30th, early TT]

[Rosalie Marcada]

A rather rundown looking two story building, deeper than it was wide, such was the appearance of the Half Penny Mermaid. Sandwiched in-between two rather shabby looking residences, with a rather overly exaggerated carving of a mermaid in front, that in better days had adorned the prow of a ship, made the tavern rather hard to miss, for anyone traversing the harbour of the Citadel.

The Half Penny Mermaid, or just Ha’Penny, boasts both easy access to, and a view of the harbor. Though some might question the aesthetics of the section of the harbor it overlooked. And in fact on any given day, at any given time, there were likely to be several sailors hanging around the front of the building.

It was dim inside the tavern, as what was left of the broken front windows had long ago been boarded up. The dim light came from candles on every table, and several lanterns hung at intervals along the walls. The acrid sent of smoke hung in the stale air of the interior. Seated around the room, or standing at the long bar are several sailors, as well as the poor who live along the harbor front.

After having explored the harbour to her hearts content Rosalie felt her stomach rumble, plus her feet were protesting they could use a rest. Not wanting to show up at Pier seventeen for fear of being recognized, Rosalie's amber eyes instead lit up as she saw the rundown establishment. Utterly perfect.

Entering in her new clothes, only covered with today's dust, Rosalie walked up confidently to the bar and trying to hide her mouthie accent ordered some ale "and a Ploughman's lunch,.. good man" the last added for good measure. It sounded like something a commoner of the Citadel would say. A few coins dropped on the counter should assure the barman she wasn't all talk. She looked around curiously, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lightening.

[Grey Wolf]

Despite her best efforts to fit in, Rosalie was sticking out like a sore thumb, and all eyes were on her from the moment she entered. She was overdressed and under-armed for a woman in the Mermaid, though the lack of customers at this time of the day was working in her favor. Bortis glanced up at the new customer and then tilted his head to squint at the lady in front of him. “Comin’ right up, miss.” He brough the glass he was wiping up to his mouth and looked ready to spit in it, but stopped as he glanced at Rosalie and dipped it under some water that did not look terribly clean. “Want it here, or at a table? It’ll be ready in a burn.”

[Rosalie Marcada]

Under-armed she may be, but not entirely without means, for there was her trusted dagger in her boot and a new rapier at her side, while her black breeches gave her considerably more room to move than did her mouthie dresses. Most of all though she had her utter arrogance. "I'll take it here signor, grazie," she announced, deciding she better keep an eye on the local hygiene. Besides, bartenders were rumoured to talk even if they were utterly devoid of manners.

When she sat down, Rose realized that he had called her Miss. Worse, she had not corrected him with an indignant remark. The thought made her frown. If it was so easy to see through would others as well. Going through life incognito was hard work.

[Grey Wolf]

There was no reason for Rosalie to wonder about the hygiene since it was plainly obvious that Mermaid was neither very clean, nor did the patrons wish it to be. Little dirt never killed anyone and what did not kill you only made you tougher. Even though he was not subtle, Bortis knew a good, paying customer when he saw one and thus Rose was to get the best service he could provide. “Scuse me.” He slipped through the kitchen door and even though he lowered his voice, the words were heard. “Martha, wash the plates. I mean it. Twice, you lazy bum.” He turned and came back, and smiled subserviently. “Plate will be ‘ere soon, miss. Sorry ‘bout the wait.”

As the door opened the man glanced up and peered at the newcomer, but he could not recall who she was for the life of him even though she was familiar. It was a girl of maybe twenty five yahren, dressed in loose fitting shirt and trousers that reached half way down her muscled calves. It was hard to tell just how pretty she was under the shirt, but there were definite curves under the fabric and he had a pretty enough face. Her hair was cropped short and blond. Taking one long look at the regulars she slipped in and made her way to the bar, slipping into a chair to Rosalie’s left, leaving two spots between them empty. “Some ale, B….. barkeep.” She shifted and leaned against the bar, resting her ribcage against it, examining the nails. “Sure thing, miss.” Bortis smiled and turned to leave and then quickly smiled at Rosalie too. “Be right back.” True to his word he was, bringing her a plate heaped high with mashed potatoes, a two-inch thick chunk of pork next to it, and a big chunk of bread in his other hand. All was placed before Madam Ambassador and then he turned and went to fill the newcomer’s mug, dunking it fully into a barrel and then placing it in front of the girl, the impact making the foam rise from it and spill out, the girl grinning at the barkeep and scooping It up with a finger, and sucking away.

[Ashari]

OOC: Locked for PC retirement.