(121-01-11) Rude People
Rude People
Summary: Everyone forgets their manners at the Quill and Tankard.
Date: 121-01-11

In the mid-afternoon, the crowds have yet to truly pour into the Quill and Tankard, leaving only a few tables occupied. At one of those tables is a middle-aged, ginger-topped maester, collar laden with many chain links. His twisted weirwood staff is propped against the table, tucked under his arm. A black raven hops about on the tabletop, pecking at a half-eaten loaf of bread. Maester Thane empties the remainder of his tankard, hollering for another as he returns his eyes to the tome opened before him.

Trystan makes his way into the tavern with his pup, whistling a small tune. He takes a table for himself and his dog, scratching the little one on the head as it sits beside it's master.

Peri is slipping in quietly, quietly admiring a few rings along her fingers with an amused expression. The tall woman is nearly slinking. She is accompanied by a crusty looking iron man with a remarkable shiner, her iron nugget of a ring likely having left an impression. She looks at the strangers, tapping a serving wench "Would it be a trouble to get me some wine and a bit of food?" she croons out, moving to sit by the fire quietly.

The local blood witch enters the tavern last gliding in gracefully. She orders and ale - throws a wink at Trystan - but seems more interested in Thane for the moment. To either the Maester's chagrin or joy. Nonetheless she remains at the bar with her pewter mug of ale - elbows propped on the wooden surface behind her back as she surveys the Quill.

Thane is fairly engrossed in his book, and fails to notice the arrival of the young witch. That is, until he looks up to berate the barwench again to hurry up with his ale. There is no missing Isador's flaming red hair, and immediately a scowl crosses his face, following by a drunken, disapproving fluttering of his lips. "Hmph. Ale!" The raven on the table tilts its head at him, unruffled by his outburst.

Peri eyes the strangers, eying the iron man at her side She settles into a chair, observing Trystan, his dog, and then the

Peri eyes the strangers, eying the iron man at her side She settles into a chair, observing Trystan, his dog, and then the Maester and his raven. With some grace she takes a bit of dried fish from a pocket to toss gently at the table the bird is on. Likely curious. Her eyes close as she rubs at her left hand, likely soothing it after punching the poor bastard accompanying her.

But the poor Maester is not getting away from his ginger haired female counterpart so easily. Isador does pass by the Ironborn woman on her walk to the Maesters table noting briefly and with no small measure of incredulity the lady and her abused servant. Unbidden Isador half hikes up her skirt and straddles a chair backwards at the Maester's table. Her emerald coloured eyes posing a challenge to the beleaguered half drunk man. She says nothing however - just stares at Thane.

Thane scowls at the fish being so unceremoniously deposited on his table. But the raven overrules him, hopping over directly to gobble it down. Besides, Thane now has a bigger fish to fry…so to speak. His steely gaze settles on Isador. It is a look that makes lesser men wilt, and women wither with-…*burrrp*. Well, that rather ruins the effect. "What do you want, witch?"

Peri looks rather intrigued, moving over to sit her Essosian ass down to stare at the staring contest at hand "I am not a witch." She pips at Thane, "I'm just resilient." her expression is amused, chin getting propped her palm, elbow on the table.

Isador is about to speak when Peri interrupts. The mischievous redhead does ride in upon the back of the diversion. "Yes indeed maester - who are you calling a witch? This young woman does not deserve so horrendous a slur…"

After this refusing to answer Thane's initial query Isador continues examining him like she was appraising an antique. And perhaps that is exactly what she is doing.

Thane shifts his gaze to Peri, blinking as his eyes take their sweet time focusing. Perhaps he's rather more than half drunk. "I was speaking to the witch." Glaring back at Isador, he waves his hand dismissively. "Go away. I'm busy."

Peri eyes Thane "What if I need my belly looked at, or have a cut from playing the finger dance?" she asks to Thane, her weight shifting enough for her breasts to thud on the table through her jacket. "Or do you just hate little brown girls?" she coos, almost sarcastically "My goodness. A witch and a Maester. Quarreling seems so below a maester."

Trystan chuckles. "So does drinking so heavily. But, he's apparently the exception to both events." he smirks and pets his dog, getting up to move closer to the scene. He winks at Isador, then takes a seat and smiles and nods to Peri. "Miss."

Isador finally reaches a diagnosis from all her observation. "Thane Thrice-wise," she says, "You drink to avoid the visions don't you? I used to do the same even though I was very young. I'd tell people in my tribe north of the wall what would happen before it did and they hated me for it. Did they ever hate you for it?" Isador seems to ignore the drunken Maesters dismissal.

Peri wiggles one finger at Trystan "My darling lordship." she croons out, sort of observing the spat

Thane pays no heed to Peri. Though the raven tilts its head, observing her curiously before ruffling its feathers and hopping over to Thane, crawling by talon and beak up to his shoulder. "Piss off, maegi," Thane growls at Isador. "I have more important things to deal with than you."

Trystan smiles to Peri, then raises any eyebrow to Maester. "Such rudeness." He just shakes hsi head and tuts, scratching his pup's head again.

Peri watches the raven, taking out another bit of dried fish. She extends it to the raven as her food and drink arrive. She takes to eating in small, Essosi concubine styled bites. "I do not let it worry me. If the Ironmen do not scare me, why would a Maester." she coos, faintly. Isador is observed again. She holds out the fish for the raven, gingerly.

Isador is momentarily distracted by Peri having perhaps noticed the comely entertainer for the first time since she entered the Quill. But her attention returns to the Maester and she no longer sees the man as an object of fun.

"You may want to clear that schedule of yours Maester Thane. At the moment I am your number one concern…"

Oddly enough, the raven no longer seems interested in the fish, despite its earlier eagerness.

Thane turns his sharp gaze on Trystan. "Rudeness? Such as three people inviting themselves to sit at a man's table, unasked and unwelcome. Take your high and mighty airs back to your pampered manse, boy. And you," he points a finger at Isador. "You should be cautious about making yourself my concern. You may have pulled a veil over the eyes of others in this city, but I know too well what you are. Likely better than you do, from all I've observed."

Trystan raises an eyebrow, but says nothing more, taking note of the Maesters features, committing them to memory. He scratches his pup's ears gently.

Peri eyes Thane, intensely interested. She takes out a gold coin, tapping it onto the table. "And why do you hate me? I am simply curious about your feud here." she whispers, tone soft and gentle. She leans forward , setting the fish down and smooshing lightly onto the table, lips pouting at Thane.

Isador watches the Maester with her green eyes intently, "You know me about as well as an armchair general knows war. What a pathetic conceit that the Citadel issues hack old men who have never even cast the merest cantrip with links of valyrian steel to mark their intellectual impotence. All you can do is constrain others."

Isador leans back, "I have heard what you have said of me - both to my face and behind my back. You have been deceitful and cruel. All that you have conveyed is a profound ignorance. A lack of curiousity. You are more than rude - you are oppressive."

Thane blinks at Peri, who had nearly been forgotten in his tirade against the other two. His pickled brain puts the pieces together, and he sighs. "I don't hate you. You just seem intent on taking my disdain for the witch onto yourself. Though you could certainly use some lessons in basic manners." When he turns his attention back to Isador, his frowning face cracks a slight smile, which gives way to a barking laugh. "How beautifully ironic. The student seeks to school the master. Put your toys and fantasies away now, girl, before they consume you. Worse, before they consume others. That I will not allow." He slams the book shut, the cover revealing it to be a tome of medicinal lore. "Well, I am clearly to be chased out of my own drinking spot. Enjoy your gossip, young ones. I don't have time for this." He rises, hauling his leather satchel to his shoulder and tucking the book into it.

Trystan smirks. "We shall. Hope you find a use for your time." There is a tinge of sarcastic vinegar in his tone, but he smiles warmly as always.

Peri watches Thane "Would you like to learn the kiss of life?" she whispers, voice soft to Thane. "It isn't in that book." she reaches to touch Thane's forearm with a feather light touch, leaning forward to blow lightly on Thane's face "You two should settle your fight with a dance of fingers." she suggests, her full lips pursing as she looks at Isador. "Are you really a witch? Can you make my breasts smaller?" she asks, curiously "They quite get in the way when I pull up fishing nets." she suggests, lopsidedly grinning

Isador watches Thane leave - returning his smile for a moment. "You know Maester I really am not all that bad. In fact I am actually unreasonably good. You have done me a disservice. If you think you are my better then perhaps you could 'waste' some of your precious drinking time trying to teach me?" As Thane heads out she mutters, "Nevermind… I know a cantrip that can render a man instantly sober…" she cruelly contemplates using it and depriving the poor Maester of more than his drinking corner.

When Peri speaks to her Isador doesn't answer her question directly, "It certainly is the considered opinion of the citadel that I am a witch. Though I have learnt to see things differently." Isador gazes down at Peri's breasts when the subject is raised. "Hmm sorry some things I find I have ethical problems interfering with. Making them bigger might be another story…" Isador winks at the woman.

Thane gives Peri an exasperated look, which is a step up from the snarls of irritation he's reserved for Trystan and Isador. "Likely I could teach you something about the kiss of life, dear woman. I could also teach you how foolhardy it is to ask anything of a maegi. She will paint a pretty picture of what can do for you, but the price you will pay will be unimaginable. Beware." He gives Isador a warning glare, which almost seems mimicked by the raven on his shoulder. "Set aside your youthful arrogance, and perhaps I could teach you something. But I doubt it is what you'd like to learn." Taking his white staff in hand, he gives Peri a slight nod, and turns toward the door. His proud departure is only momentarily foiled when he stubs his foot on a chair. The damn thing just jumped right out at him, or so he's convinced himself. Probably the witch's fault.

Peri snorts "If they get bigger I'll break my gods forsaken back. The damn things are bigger than my head." she considers "Westerosi people are odd. I have to wear this jacket instead of a length of silk draped over leather or my necklaces instead." she croons, amused, loosening a second button "What could you teach me? Would you like some arnica and a gentle rub for your toe?" she coos out. "Like my husband would allow my breasts to get smaller anyways, he'd whip me, he would."

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