(121-03-16) That Famous Apple Cider
That Famous Apple Cider
Summary: Brief exchanges in the Quill and Tankard
Date: 16/03/2014
Related: None

A warm and clear day in contrast to the previous days of rain. With nightfall coming, the Quill and Tankard appears to be filling up with smallfolk to noblemen. Patrons are tended to by barmaids and the apple cider is flowing through many a veins.

Seated near the hearth are two armored men; one in golden chainmail, the other in a blue and gold cuirass. Their dialog is in the Braavosi tongue as they clap mugs. "We'll finish these drinks then head back to the Manse." The broad Braavosi speaks to the taller Westerner. "Aye Lady Isara will be waiting for the news." Teryin's mug hand slides long ways across the table, body leaning across it to keep voice hushed, "We could probably make more gold if those rumors are true." Yorik dismisses the idea with a wave of his hand, "Brother, we're knights, not sellswords." Teryin concedes, "True, but we're not back in Golden Tooth anymore. We need to start getting some profit aside from the business of my wife."

Peri is slipping in from somewhere, her weight flexing as she adjusts her pale minty green gown, a few sea shells pinned in her hair. Her tall frame and elegantly built, she moves towards a table, watching the armored men with a lazy expression "Cider please." she asks towards a bar maid, settling down and folding her legs neatly, foot bobbing as if she is waiting for someone.

No doubt returning from some glorious journey into the heart of darkness from whence he wrested many a busty maiden from the clutches of various unruly beasts…is Rory. The Ginger Fox slips into the Q and T, his bow hung across his body. A quick look around and he moves to have a seat at an open table, sliding his bow off and resting it on the surface.

Yorik is the one of the pair that notice the entrance of the woman. Brown eyes following the elegantly built body to her seat. Teryin's mug hits the table solidly enough to catch the attention of his colleague, but quiet enough not to disturb the establishment. "Seems every where we go, your gaze finds a woman's body." The joke is true, the man in golden chainmail chuckling as mug returns to lips in a taste of the cider. "By your Seven, if you weren't married you'd be sweeping every woman in Oldtown off their feet and into a bed." The broad grin is brief at the entrance of the new patron, one different than the watchmen and smallfolk gathered.

A nudge from the Braavosi against Teryin's forearm, "Bowman, think you could out shoot him?" The jade gaze of Teryin reaches over the rim of the mug towards the man. "I'd not challenge a man for no reason other than to best him. You know better." The mug is sat down on the table, hand lifting towards a barmaid and gesturing for a mug of cider to the newcomer.

Stepping in from the street outside, Brynden comes to a stop just inside the room. Looking around through narrowed eyes for the moment, he doesn't seem to see whoever he might have been looking for, so now he just steps over towards one of the tables, expression distant at the moment.

Derrioth comes in through the door, besides him looking around in a curious manner is his mastiff. Derrioth yawns, walking over to a table of his own, pulling out a chair and sitting down. The dog happily trots up besides him, sitting down and staring around at its surroundings. Derrioth raises his right hand as a barmaid moseys by, "Cider, please." He says to her, lowering his hand as his left hand sneaks over to scratch the large canines head gently.

Peri gives Teryin a light wave and the Braavosi a wink. Her expression grows amused. Derrioth is given a wave, her expression softening into mirth, fingers graciously taking her mug of cider to pull to her lips, eyes half closed "It is a bit chilly for this far south today, is it not?" she asks, openly to those near enough with her posh Lyseni accent.

Rory kicks his feet up on the table and continues to have a look around. His eyes fall on the Bravoosi gentlemen and they get a nod, before everyone else in the establishment gets one in turn. He drums his fingers lightly atop his belly as he thinks something over, 'hrmm'ing slightly.

The broad Braavosi returns his gaze to the woman again, shifting his body in the chair for a more open look after taking the scabbard from his back and setting it against the table. "You know she's waiting for me. Give a look at those eyes and way her body is." Teryin can't help but laugh at his companion, so boldly spoken in Braavosi.

The entrance of the mastiff and owner offer further jest, "I bet the ladies look at us like master and hound." Head motioning towards the pair. "Aye, me the master and you the hound." Their laughter reaches higher volume only for Yorik to slug Teryin in the chest with the response of the woman. "I told ya brother." Teryin nearly empties his mug at the blow, but offers a subtle nod of his head towards Peri. Yorik speaks in common now, his Braavosi accent heavy. "Chilly? You just need a man to warm them bones right up." "Or a warm cider." Teryin adds.

A barmaid drifts over to Rory, setting a mug of cider down on the table near his feet. "From the gent in gold." Her head nods to Teryin and Yorik before drifting away.

Brynden shakes his head as he's found one of the tables, remaining where he is at the moment, just watching the people present. Making no move to wave over a barmaid yet, it would seem.

Derrioth tilts his head to the right with a friendly smirk, offering a nod to Peri in return as the mastiff lets out a happy bark with a wag of its tail, squeezing its way in between and past people, heading towards Peri’s location before appearing besides her, looking up to her with perked ears and a wagging tail. "Chilly? I didn't really notice." Says Derrioth casually as a barmaid strolls by, setting down a tankard of cider in front of Derrioth before moving on by. "Besides, I hear you have yourself a bath house— I doubt you'd stay cold for long in there." Derrioth adds, taking hold of his tankard as he lifts it up to his mouth to take a sip of the cider inside

Rory's eyebrows rise at the arrival of the barmaid. He purses his lips and leans forward to pluck up the mug, raising towards the Bravoosi men, "Many thanks, my friend. Mighty shiny armor ye got there."

Peri nose scrunches at the gentlemen "I think I've quite enough of a man to warm me, perhaps I am just getting spoiled from soaking long hours in the baths." she offers calmly, she moves to settle near Derrioth "Aye, I have a wondrous bath house, with massages and soaking pools, some large enough to swim." she offers, chuckling her weight stretching out. "You'll have to visit."

Yorik notices the markings along the flesh of Peri's legs, his gaze roaming the curves of her body. "She's a concubine." Spoken in Braavosi to Teryin. "Seems so. And not looking for your company." The knight chuckles as his words return to Braavosi. "But I believe I should return to the manse. Join me or staying to fill your belly with cider?" "Best I head back me self. I'll travel with you." The pair stands with the woman drifting off to another table. Yorik makes a mental note to visit such bath house in the future, reaching down to pluck the large scabbard from the table.

"The gold may seem shiney, but past of the man wearing it is not so new and shiney." Words passed in common as Teryin reaches for his coin pouch to pluck the necessary coins from. He pays the wench and tosses a silver coin to the table of Rory. "If another fancies your attention." The duo pass through the patrons towards the entrance on their way out.

Peri gives Yorik a fond enough wave and settles to pat Derrioth's arm gently, chuckling faintly.

Brynden pauses as one of the barmaids approaches him, and he speaks with her a bit quietly for a few moments, offering a brief smile as he does. That done, he goes back to his people watching, or scowling, or whatever we call it now.

"I sure wish I could get to the level of wealth where I could just pelt commoners with coinage when I saw fit," remarks Rory, turning the piece of silver over in his hand and giving it a look. A grin creeps to his mouth and he leans back in the chair, chuckling a bit.

The door opens with a slight bang as a Brei glides into the tavern dressed in a black silk gown trimmed with crimson lace. Four guards follow her each of them wearing the signal of House Hightower upon thier armor. The noble lady glances around with a blank and emotionless expression before continue her steps through the room to an empty seat in the corner. Her gaurds take up posts nearby watching any who get too close to the lady with sharp eyes. Bright blue eyes look over those her her expression unchanged even as she singals over a barmaid and speak to her a in a clear and sharp tone the order clear even though she only says one word. "Mead." The barmaid seems intimidated by the darkly dressed woman and quickly delivers the requested drink.

Derrioth smirks with a raise of his right brow, watching Yorik for a few seconds or two before turning to look to Peri, "I actually planned on stopping by later this day." He says, his mastiff strolling back over to sit besides Derrioth again, watching seemingly. Derrioth glances over to takes note of Brei, and Rory, lifting his tankard to take another sip of his cider.

Peri eyes a messenger, standing up to move and hear out something ".. Riker did what?" she mumbles. The tall tawny woman's hand comes up swiftly and slams into her face loudly an unsavory string of profanity in Lyseni coming out of her mouth as she hands the barmaid a few coins and heads off in a hurry.

Teryin doesn't really respond, he's not one to really get into his birth to nobles. Clutching the great sword's scabbard, it's Yorik who leans down into the face of the man chuckling. "Then you better get off yer arse and work for it. Not all are born with it." The heavy foriegn dialect set in a stoney voice, defending his friend and Lord's son. He withdraws when Teryin stops and turns around, "Yorik. Enough. Let the man enjoy his mead and coin. We've drank our fill." The arrival of the new noblewoman and escort is given a passing glance, but not much more. The sigils giving enough reason to stay away from the lady. The two slip through the doors and across the bridge.

Rory raises an eyebrow to Yorik as he gets in his face, but knows well enough not to respond. A grumble is released as the man exits and Rory stands up, tucking the silver piece into his coin purse. A brief bow is offered to everyone in attendance and he plucks up his bow before slipping out.

Pausing for a few moments as he sees the ones entering, unable to hold back a half-smile. And then Brynden's arm goes up to wave Brei over towards the table now, although he doesn't say anything yet.

Derrioth lets out a quiet scoff as he watches Yorik, shaking his head lightly before lowering his left hand to scratch behind one of his mastiffs ears. The dog lets out a low groan, tilting its head up as its eyes roll over to fixate its gaze on Derrioths face. "Charming." He grumbles to himself in Dothraki before sipping at his cider.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License