View source for Ale at the Fernwood

<em>NOTE: Partial log, missing scene set + previous poses</em>

The Goblin sits up, stretching again and nodding. "Yes. I was sure I had offended you or perhaps made a challenge and that you wanted to kill me or something like that. Tried very hard to stay out of your way after that. Til the other day on the roof. With Culix. And Aryia."

Aya blinks at the gobber. "You did?" Her brow furrows as she attempts to make some connection or recollection. "There are several I wish dead. I don't think you are one of them. I do recall the rooftop with Aryia."

The door to the Fernwood Pub unceremoniously opens, as a short sith-makar (but still with a tall nature) steps in. A glaive with its charitable number of red ribbons flutters in the air, as the draconian makes his way towards the counter; orange eyes glancing towards the door and the entrance, as if in search of something.

"Drink of... ale," Aelwyn orders, tapping at the counter with his coin.

Murder snorts at Aya and nods, "Yeah, my big mouth and all that." She grins toothily. But if obviosuly didn't mean as much as I thought, if you've forgotten." Her eyes track the Sith as he enters and moves to the bar to order ale.

The barkeep snatches up Aelwyn's coin before sliding him a glass of ale.

Aya's tray of bread, meat, and cheese arrives along with the wine. Coin is handed over for it before Aya rolls one shoulder to Murder. "It may have meant a great deal at the time. Apologies. Priorities have changed greatly over the past months." She looks to the arriving Sith briefly before taking up the wine bottle for a long pull. No need to dirty a glass.

Aelwyn picks up the glass and rolls it his fingers for a while. He tilts his head to the side, lifts the glass for a moment, then opens up his jaw... finally, he waves his hand to the barkeep. "... can this one have it in a mug?"

Hearing familiar voices, the ruddy sith-makar tilts his head instead. Momentarily he ponders whether he should, but he bows his head. "Shortie, Silverbraid." He greets, ribbons from his horns flaring down.

And a second later, he points towards Aya. "Bottle. Bottle would be fine."

Murder shrugs. "No skin off my nose.", she says in reply to Aya. "Alive is preferable to dead."

The barkeep takes back the glass from Aelwyn, and rummages around under the bar. A green bottle is found, and Ael's ale is carefully poured into it. The bottle's then offered up to the Sith.

The Gobbo elbows Ael in the hip, before waving at the barkeep, asking for ale in a bottle too.

As the door swings open yet again, a cloaked figure shuffles into the Fernwood and pulls back his hood. After taking in the lively scene, Lucius picks out a familiar face among the crowd and moves toward the bar. "Hello Aelwyn." He also greets the other two, whose faces are not as familiar to him. "I'm Lucius! Nice to meet you both." A hand reaches into his cloak and emerges with a coin, which he promptly slides across the counter. "An ale for me as well, please."

"It is," Aya nods to Murder," most of the time." She now more fully acknowledges Aelwyn with a lift of the bottle in salute. "Redscale." The arriving man then catches her notice, a brow arching before she nods to him... then steals another draw from her wine before returning the bottle to the counter.

Aelwyn holds the bottle, letting out a rumble at Murder when she bumps at him. Still, his attention returns towards the door when Lucius enters. His row of teeth shows up in what counts as a grin for him. "Rider, he did appear." The sith-makar waves his tail, echoing Aya's motion. "That is a very straightforward way to enjoy a good wine, Silverbraid."

The orange slit pupils look towards the bottle before he chonks his teeth around it for a second, tipping his head back. "Were the ride easy for Thunder?"

Lucius tilts his head to one side. "Easy might not be the word I'd use to describe our rides." He grins. "Thunder prefers speed over everything. Especially safety. He can be a real menace on the city streets, so I'm glad he listens to me when I ask him to be more careful."

As the barkeep hands over another bottle of ale, Lucius takes a more measured sip. "And what brings the two of you to the Fernwood on a fine spring day?"

Aelwyn rumbles as he straightens slightly, tilting his head as he listens to Lucius. He lets out a low sound a click of his teeth as the human describes his ride. "That must be an experience, to be astride such a creature." Teeth flash over again. "It seems Rider is very versed in controlling such pace."

The question makes Aelwyn tilts his head and he takes another sip from his bottle - squeezing teeth around the neck made the liquid mostly go where it was supposed to. "The warmth, the food, the company." Slow tail sway behind him. "Practising at the Coliseum again?"

"It's kind of you to say so, Aelwyn. Definitely an experience," Luke agrees. "The Myrrish like to say that 'A happy horse is a well-trained horse.' When Thunder is enjoying our little adventures, I find myself having a good time as well." He shakes his head slightly. "We had to learn and memorize a lot of stuff like that in training. At the time, I remember thinking that all these rules and proverbs just sounded like total nonsense. Yet, the more time that passes, the more it seems that my teachers were right after all. I must confess it's a little irritating." A short and good-natured laugh escapes from his chest.

"That reminds me. I regret that I'm not too familiar with the mounted traditions of the makari. Do your people find horses suitable for your needs? Or perhaps the jungles of Am'shere require adjustments in the forms of your cavalry." He glances at Aelwyn and lightly taps one finger against the side of his bottle.

Aelwyn listens to Lucius as he idly teeths around the neck of the bottle - despite his usual flippant demeanor, he did seem to be genuinely interested. "Tch, this cannot see how a wild buck would prefer to be tamed," A roll of the bottle between his fingers as he grins. "Though sometimes being tamed can be very beneficial." Tilting his head, he looks at Lucius. "Is being a rider a very important tradition from where Rider is from?"

At the other's question, Aelwyn looks down at the bottle that is clicked. "Chaa," He rumbles in amusement. "A well-posed question, but that should be posed to likes of Silver, or Lava. For they come from Am'shere." The ruddy sith-makar bows his horned head with its many ribbons, and spreads his hands towards the sides. "This one is merely of the road." Raising his head, he looks at Lucius once more and gives the other's calf a light tap with his tail. "Never even learned how to ride a stallion." Flash of sharp teeth.

"Indeed I'd hardly know what to do with myself without being able to rely on Thunder." Lucius nods as he swallows another mouthful of ale. "Oh, very. To become a cavalier is a common dream among the boys and girls of Myrddion, especially in my homeland of the High Kingdom. It's even said that the Myrrish were the first in the world to tame horses." He frowns skeptically and shrugs. "That might not be true. Yet there cannot be any doubt that Myrrish history bears the tradition of cavalry with pride. The results of several great battles have turned on the consequences of a single cavalry charge. Even in today's age of airships and ever evolving magitech, I think horses will continue to play a role in the lives and histories of the Myrrish peoples."

"I see." Lucius takes another swig of ale. "Then if I may ask, what place, if any, would you call your homeland? Unless, apologies for my mistake, your whole life before coming to Alexandria was spent on the road."

Aelwyn tilts his head, "Apologies?" He clicks his teeth and takes a deeper swig from his bottle. A moment later he offers his teeth. "Yes, of the road, traveling with -" There's a sudden pause, his pupils dilating, but he finishes the words with a slower roll of his hand. "With a troupe." His head tilts. "Whoever knows, perhaps this one has heard a song or two sung of Rider's conquests on the field on the road's many inns and taverns." Anoter tap of his tail at Lucius's calves.

"This one supposes it took years to learn to ride?"

Luke grins. "I've conquered a journey from the High Kingdom to Alexandria, and naught else. I'm afraid it's not easy to see how any singer, no matter how gifted, could possibly spin my trivial undertakings into something worthy of song and legend. In any case, I do appreciate the sentiment."

"As for training, we spend years learning how to take care of our horses before we learn to ride. Once the bond between horse and rider has formed, basic riding skills can be learned in a matter of months, or even weeks for the most skilled among us. Advanced combat moves can be more difficult to acquire for most pairs, as both need to resist their natural instincts and rely on each other totally and implicitly. Of course, every horse and every rider have different characteristics, so it's hard to say. I think my training took several years, which is of a normal duration for most aspiring cavaliers."

Aelwyn rumbles in amusement. "Songs have been written of lesser achievements," The draconian points out, tilting his bottle. He then falls silent as he listens to Lucius, tilting his horns once more towards the side. "Tch, years to take care of horses before learning to ride?" He gazes at the wall for a moment then, finishing up his bottle. "This one should have tipped those stablehands more frequently."

A sharp toothed grin, but he finally yields his bottle and bows his head. "This one thanks Rider, it would be a pleasure to face off once again. Or perhaps meet Thunder when the forests themselves are not hunting us. May the skies be gentle on their path." The draconian says, before picking up his glaive and with a bit of a sigh, starts to head out the door.