View source for Sandy Gets Hitched

<font face="courier">
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

EXTRAS: +view                                 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

:Angrid          A red-bearded, muscular dwarf in heavy armor          0s   29m

: Kerbasy         A young priest, cheerful despite his somber garb.     0s   5d

: Sandy           The HIPpest elf ever. Practically a HIPpy.            10s  17h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Out <O>                   

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-</font>

Saevrinimata has arrived.

<Meet> Saevrinimata joins Sandy.

"Ale on me for everyone in the Fernwood tonight," says Sandy, cheerfully. She's in a good mood. It's probably best not to ask why, hoenstly. Who wants to risk incurring the wrath of the Demon Elf of Alexandria? On her table are numerous plates where she and Saevrinimata have been stuffing their faces all night while no doubt looking down their noses at people like proper elves or something. 

At any rate, Sandy is here. And buying ale for people.

It's Variday, Quintoos 26 21:33:13 1014. The full moon is up. The tide is high and rising.

The world is dark and foggy. Everything is half-hidden, nothing clearly seen. It's chilly and the air feels damp. No wind blows.

The rumbling voices of dwarves can be heard as the door opens, and Angrid ambles in with a couple of his countrymen. "Look, Rageln, I hear ye, but ye're not going to get them to bar the greenskins out. So ye might as well try and beat 'em at their own game. Or," Angrid gets a wry twinkle in his eye, "is it true the greenskins really can outdo us dwarves in craftsmanship?" Then he hears the call of 'free ale', and the burly fighter slaps his friends' shoulders. "Come on, let's take advantage of this before they figure out who's drinkin'!" Laughing, the trio head for the bar.

"Uh--heh. Heh." Hair plastered to his forehead, Kerbasy stumbles in. The Mourner wears his clothes as he ever does--that is, in a tired way that has them hanging from him like a scarecrow. Dirt crusts the edges of his robes and sleeves, and he brushes at it in an absent-minded way that says he really doesn't care if it's there; just feels compelled to do so. "Two--uh, two, please. Heh. Oh, evenin', Angrid."

Saevrinimata slams a fist repeatedly on the table meanwhile,"And make with the venison medallions! They're barely adequate as appetizers for a nobel Sildanyari house, so they'll have to do! And make it a triple order! I'm a a Llyranesi with the appetite of a Khazad and I'd appreciate it if you'd do me the decency of recognizing it!" Then she sees a dwarf and calls out to Sandy,"Sandy! We got real party people!" At the dwarf, she calls out,"Khazad! Come show these laggards what a real person eats! Warning, though! You'll need to triple the portions to stay fed!" Then back at Sandy,"Sandy! Why aren't we tits-deep in cake?"

"Did you really just say 'tits-deep'?" says Sandy, laughing. Then she eyes KErbasy. "Kerbasy! Come over here and join us. You're joining us." She points a finger at him, then points a tfinger at Angrid, "Yeah. You should join us too." She nods her head up and down. "Sit, sit. Both of you. We need to empty this place of food."

Angrid furrows his brows at Kerbasy. "Ye look a bit worse for the wear, lad." Then he's invited to go eat with someone famous! Well, Angrid's never turned down free food before and he's not starting now, so he chuckles, eyeing Saevrinimata with curiousity as he approaches. "I dinna think we've met -- name's Angrid Stonehelm."

"The Lady's work is never done," Kerbasy replies. And he grins a grin that makes him look young, too-young to do the work that he does. And he waves to Sandy in a move both jerky and life-like. "Evening. You uh--don't take it the wrong way, Sandy, but I get that I go over there I'll be performing services for m'self." Though his smile seems genuine enough. Except, you know. /Priests practice in front of mirrors/!

Saevrinimata thrusts one hand out to Angrid as he is seated, though she doesn't actual stop eating for even a second,"Saevrinimata La'Rouinealle Deranthenea Caluspirede Bal'fenna the 16th. My parents were right diggers' asses. I personally think they pick the least favorite child in the line to bear it. 'S why there's 16 of us." She grumpuses for a few more minutes, then says to Kerbasy,"Need a mourner in case we eat ourselves to death!" She continues shoveling food into that tireless maw all the while. How she talks without spraying crumbs and food is anyone's guess. "I DID say tits-deep! Sandy! How's that vegetable wrap for Herbert coming along!?" Then she advises angrid,"Master Stonehelm, I suggest the veal. It's almost adequate."

"Only if your stomach bursts from eating too much, KErbasy," says Sandy with a snjort, "I promise. I'm not going to hurt you. Directly. Come on over here and have a seat." A seat gets kicked out over there by her, leaving him ample room to come and join them. A nod towards Angrid. "And I have no idea," she sniffs at Saevrinimata.

Angrid shakes Saevrinimata's hand, looking a little bemused. This is certainly unlike any elf he's seen. "I'm a soldier by trade, lass. I think I'll manage. What's the occasion?" He seats himself next to her, beginning to pile a plate with foodstuffs. "Are ye celebrating someone getting married?"

Kerbasy's grin is glued in place, a man girding himself with armor of the strongest, stiffest sort as he wades nto the battlefield that is Sandy and Saev--ohgodI'mnottypingthis's table! "Heh. Well uh, thank you for th' offer. It's always good to stop for a meal at the Den." And his fingers twitch, as though just having stopped himself from uttering a Prayer for Protection of the Soul. And at Angrid's off-hand comment the normally olive-complexioned priest goes a bit white.

Mikilos has arrived.

Saevrinimata narrows her eyes at Sandy,"Nevermind that. He'll eat it because he's a stupid bug. Even if it's terrible." She eyes Hector as the huge centipede unwraps from her neck and crawls down her arm to forage on the table,"That's MY food, Hector. Fuck off. I fill fork you." She eyes the centipede in a bizarrely intense staredown, brandishing her fork at it. The centipede eventually 'buggers off' and finds some dropped breadcrumbs to forage. "I dunno what we're doing here. Sandy said something along the lines of 'I'm so grateful for your existence that I'm going to justly pay tribute to your amazingness by feeding you for free'. After that, I sort of tuned out." Doubtful she was even listening in the first place.

Mikilos certainly wasn't listening. Then again, he wasn't here, so would be a little creepy if he was. But he is now. Here, that is, not yet listening, the elf closeing the door behind him and peering around a moment before heading towards the bar proper.

Putting a hand oevr her face for a moment, Sandy can't help but start to laugh. She just laughs. Then she shakes her head at Saevrinimata. "We're here becasue I was bloody hungry and so were you. Would you believe the nerve of some of those idiots out there, anyways?" She sniffs at her, then turns back towrads Kerbasy and jabs a finger at him. "order uourself something. And eat it up. All of it."

Kerbasy is busy staring at the bug.

Sandy is used to the bug. She's ignoring it. No doubt this is one of the reasons she's being charged double for food.

Angrid eyes the bug, but honestly, it's not hurting anyone and as he said, he's had worse. "So no occasion then? Hm. Ah well, any reason to eat well and be merry." A tankard of ale is poured for him, and he begins to fork down chunks of veal, interspersed with a strong tasting soup and draughts from his tankard. "Yon priest needs to eat more anyways. He looks too damned skinny."

Mikilos is also stareing at the bug, his path towards the bar paused to do so. You don't expect that sort of thing at the Fernwood. Ox, maybe, but not here. "Er, hello. New suitor, Sandy?"

Saevrinimata gripes at the bug,"Make room for the gentleman!" She picks the thing up and dumps it on her head, then grabs a handful of bread crumbs and sprinkles it in her hair,"Good. Now stay up there and TRY not to embarass us, okay." Not that her hair is particularly well-kept anyway. "Indeed. I think he's gonna comatose from lack of proper feeding." She grabs a roll from a passing server and thrusts it at Kerbasy with gravy-spattered fingers,"Eeeeat. Also, bathe." Then she's yelping again,"Sandy! Try some of the blackberry suicide cake! It's delish!"

Kerbasy gives a quick-shrug of his hands that shows a bit of energy to the priest's lean frame. And his smile is stuck where it is. "He's uh...well. I had to pull one of those from feedin' off one of our guests the other day. Terrible for the family." And he grabs the thrust-roll automatically, and takes a bit from it. In no time it's gone and he's saying, between swallows. "There was a colony of them, I suspect. Bugger gave m'hell, though. ...so what's this about you gettin' married?" he asks, looking between the two of them. "Is that it? Yer wantin' services?" He can't seem to believe that Sandy. Would just invite. Folk over to eat.

HE CAN'T IMAGINE WHY.

"I agree," says Sandy, firmly, with Saevrinimata. "He's going to keel over in the next stiff breeze." She reaches over to poke Kerbasy in the side, of course. Just like that. Seems like she feels that'll knock him down. "No, don't need anything. Just sit down and eat. Am I not allowed to be in a good mood every now and again?" she asks, innocently.

"No. Too suspicious." Mikilos answers absently, nodding polite greetings to the others gathered, with perhaps a slightly overlong look to Saevrin. then again, some of that look goes to hector, so perhaps it's okay.

"Dinnae know ye well enough to say," Angrid takes the wise road and stays out of it, instead draining his tankard and getting a refill. "Which reminds me, I need to commission some gear, and while I know all manner of excellent craftsmen and forgemasters, none can lay proper enchantments. Know anyone who'd like a little extra jingle in their boots come the Yule festival?"

Saevrinimata wrinkles her nose, and then pokes Kerbasy in the belly,"I think I heard about this galut being a pretty old hand and makin' stuff sparkle. You want a potion that'll put iron in your arm for a few minutes, though, you talk to me." She slurps something loudly from her soup bowl, then puts down her spoon and just starts drinking it. With a satisfied sigh, she reaches up to give Hector an affectionate little rub. "Priest, you need to start on a cake course, immediately. Nine out of ten physicians recommend it." She belches, and then says to Sandy,"Here's an idea! Let's get drunk!"

"An EXCELLENT plan. MORE ALE," says Sandy, entirely too loudly. She points a finger at Angrid and adds, "You know. I bet you know the best ales, being a Khazad and all. What do you suggest?"

Mikilos rolls his eyes, but smiles in amusement before turning his focus towards Angrid. "I don't keep my coin in my boots, but I do make enchantments. What do you have in mind?"

Angrid hehs. "Ye ask a question that we've written books about, lass. Some prefer simple ales and lagers, others prefer porters and there's a small following for some gods-awful brew called 'stout'. I think it's called that because you could use it to construct a stout house." He tugs on his beard, looking at the ceiling. "Best I've had is called Firebreaker Double-Hammer. It's brewed in casks that were originally used for whiskey, and it has a strong smoky taste to it." He glances at Mikilos, and raises his bushy eyebrows. "Hah, didn't see you there lad! I'm looking for arms and armor -- I can supply them, obviously, but I need them enchanted. A khazadi war axe and full plate armor."

Saevrinimata basically drains a pint of ale down her throat and then declares,"This'll do for starts! Sandy, do me a favor and keep it coming! If I don't want to die by morning's light, then we haven't drunk enough! Felony public intoxication is the watchword tonight!" Then she holds up a small cup full of ale for /Hector/ to drink from. That done, she wonders of Angrid,"Firebreaker Double-Hammer... because it hits you twice, I bet... Okay, we need summa that." Then she shoves what looks like a sausage wrapped in bacon and dipped in some kind of thick sauce on a plate at Angrid,"Try that. It's called the artery-buster special. My own invention."

"All right. We're going to need some of that indeed," says Sandy. Then she eyes Saevrinimata and bursts out laughing. She leans back into her chair and then says, "Oh, this is going to be a *great* night." A solemn nod follows. And then sh orders those drinks and, indeed, sets about ensuring that they do keep on coming.

"I uh, ask the Lady for Her blessin' on the blades, heh." Kerbasy takes a step back from the person poking him in the belly. There's not much to poke--he works too much. "She sees fit to respond, which honors m' to no end." And he grins then, grins like a kid. "I host sermons every week. You should stop by. ...there gravy?..." he asks then, getting distracted as he looks across the table. AND WHAT SORT?

Mikilos nods to Angrid. "I've worked with both before. You looking for just a basic enchatment, reinforced plates for the armor, extra sharp edge of the axe, that sort of thing?" Glancing around at the others, setteling upon Sandy, the elf grabs a chair for himself. "Usually I don't hear about this sort of event until the morning after. Or late afternoon, when bail is posted."

Angrid shakes his head, beard wagging. "Nae, lass. Double-Hammer means a tankard in each hand. Prosperity, if you can afford to pour a mug for each hand to drink from." He nods to Mikilos. "Aye. We can talk later about it though." He samples the bacon-wrapped sausage, making an approving sound. Yep, it's shaping up to be a night that some people will regret and others will remember fondly.

Gravy. Kerbasy finds it and he fairly throws himself across the table in his reaching for the bowl. "Uhrng. ...heh. There we go. ...looks uh, brownish." He eyes it. "With lumps." And then the young priest cheerfully takes the rolls and biscuits from Saev-ohgodI'mnotspellingthat!'s plate, and dumps them in his own.

And upends the gravy on top of that. "That all y'got?" he asks, cheerfully. "Oh! Wait--" and he nabs Sandy's porkchops. To go on top of it.

Oates has arrived.

Constantin has arrived.

Aleron has arrived.

Saevrinimata eyes her left hand and then her right hand, and calls to Sandy,"The Khazad has informed me I'm doing it wrong! Never let it be said I'm not willing to learn from my mistakes! Sandy, I need a tankard for each hand! The khazad says this is the right way to drink!" She barks at Kerbasy,"That's not making it into your mouth fast enough!"

Mikilos nods to Angrid, perched upon a chair near the table where the others are seated, feasting upon a large repast dedicated to unhealth. With extra bacon. The elf himself samples nothing, just sips a small cup of wine he picked up somewhere. Some elves fit the steriotype.

Kerbasy blinks at the sildanyari. And then he steals her plate. Imagine a 13, 14 year old boy sat in front of a pile of spaghetti for the first time.

Yeah, that's what this is.

"Fuh," he says. And grins.

Aleron steps into the pub, his hood slipped down to his shoulders, an odd piece of luggage clasped in his left hand shaped like a perfectly rectangular box. He walks straight up to the pub, laying a measure of coin down and waits at the counter a few minutes after making his order, the reason for his wait made evident from the stream of steaming heat coming from the top of a glass of hot gluhwein. He takes the cup and goes to find an unoccupied table, seating himself in a manner that he can view the likely mischief and madness in the room.

Angrid deadpans, "Well, this is the beginning of an intriguing evening." He just shakes his head at Saevrinimata, "Lass, ye've got the proper spirit of a khazadi, but I don't think ye have the endurance. Might want to walk before ye run." He takes a long pull from his tankard.

Constantin comes in, mist swiriling in from the door. He shoots the sleeves of his coast, and looks about. Stepping out of the way of Aleron, he saunters towards the bar, a spring in his step.

The young Mourner makes a pile of it. And there's gravy atop, with Sandy's porkchops. Sandy really hams it up at meals, you know. He makes a tower out of all of it, listening as words are passed back and forth. Nods occasionally. And, "Pass th' butter. Heh." And then he nods to Constantin, "Evenin', Blood Rose."

Aleron is not a person intimidating of form, simply someone who seems too calm to be easily unnerved. He cradles the odd glass mug filled with hot, dark liquid, and then draws a sip, wafting in the scent of spices while keeping his case pressed to his boot. He stays quiet and watches as a sentinel, not hiding the fact that he is observing the goings on without a particular dead focus.

Mikilos quirks a brow, grinning at Angrid. "You realize that'll be heard as a challenge, right?"

"This makes perfect sense," says Sandy to Saevrinimata, ensuring that both she and Saevrinimata now have that exactly it. Then she eyes Kerbasy. "Well," she tells him, "Go on. Dig in. There'll be more cakes and pies coming thereafter." The primary motivator in Sandy's weight gain: eating too many cakes with Saevrinimata.

Constantin favours Kerbasy with a broad smile. "Evenin', Sweet Talker." A tilt of his head. "That looks good." Leaning up on the bar, he brushes at a fragment of straw on one embroidered rose. "Mug of mulled wine, and a pie, mushroom and meat, if you will."

"There's a weddin', apparently," Kerbasy informs Constantin. ANd lookit that, Sandy's plate's disappeared! And the Mourner's fingers are greasy. "Sandy's or somethin'. She's not sayin. ..." and he nudges the pile a bit, straightening it like a pile of that game the gobbers call "Jenga." It's about-like to fall over.

Angrid has disconnected.

Mikilos frowns mildly, peering at Sandy. "What's with that, anyway? Seems every week or so there's some talk of your wedding, but never a cerimony. You have a thing for bridal showers or something?"

"Figure I was asked here for a reason," the Mourner supplies. Oooh, look! Chicken!

Constantin pays for the mulled wine, sips it, exhales with a smile. "There's nothing wrong with a party, dahling," he informs Mikilos. "Nothing at all."

"Because I'm local, unmarried, and apparently everyone thinks that I clearly want to be. I don't," Sandy waves a hand, dismissively, then adds, "I am not getting married anytime soon. Period." She waves it again, then picks up two drinks. Down the hatch goes one, then down the hatch goes the other. She slams both mugs don on the table thereafter. The mugs shatter. 

"Crap," she says.

Saevrinimata speaks, NOW spraying crumbs everywhere,"Sandy likes throwing parties and getting tarted up! Jeeze. What's so hard to understand!" Then she places a bowl of rolls down underneath the dripping ale and stuffs a few in her mouth. Chewchewchew.

"You mentioned a weddin'," the Mourner says with a cheerful stubbornness. Pauses. "Or she did. They were talkin' a lot when I came in here." And he blinks. Kerbasy lifts one of the porkchops and sniffs it. If she's not celebrating getting married...

"Tarted? Hardly," says Sandy, with a sniff. "I never tart."

Mikilos frowns thoughfully. "Must be a little more to it than that. Quite a few local unmarried peoples, but they don't have folks playing match maker for them. Though seems to me if you went ahead and got hitched, would cut back on the planning for another wedding."

"People! There is nothing /wrong/ with a public celebration of love." Constantin shakes his head, sipping his wine. Then his plate of food arrives, and he gets distracted.

Aleron seems to work at his glass of dark wine as he takes his case, setting it on his lap. He opens it to draw out a number of papers, setting them down on the table and reading over them as he watches the boisterousness about him in contrast.

"There was that uh...lucht, wasn't it?" Kerbasy supplies. A good half the food's made its way in front of the working Mourner. And he's still as thin as ever, his movements as twitchy, quick as ever. "Huh. I could've uh...well. There was that oruch too, heh. There have been a few, hasn't there? And uh, nothin' wrong at all. See, Sandy. It's all right. I'm happy t'perform the ceremony for you anytime. Y'know that." Saev-somelongname's! plate vanishes again.

"I am not getting married!" Sandy couters again, archly, kicking KErbasy once under the table and raising the remnants of the mug and looking like she's about ready to throw it at Mikilos. Then she kicks Kerbsy a *second* time.

Saevrinimata snorts at Sandy,"You are one giant tart and you know it! Why, I bet you'll make it to your 800's a spinster! Besides, nothing wrong with playing the field. S' what I do!" Riiight. She turns to dump a gravy boat on Kerbasy,"Stop taking my food. I'm built for comfort, not for speed, and if I'm gonna stay that way, I need my beauty-meal."

Mikilos shrugs lightly. "Just seems a waste to have all the preperation, wedding feast, cerimony preist, and all that, and then not have the actual wedding."

<font face="courier">
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

EXTRAS: +view                                 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

:Oates           Stout human farmboy with genial grin & witty eyes     46s  1h

:Constantin      Flower-cloaked swordsman.                             1m   1h

:Aleron          An unassuming man with a briefcase                    7m   52m

:Saevrinimata    A short, pudgy, be-spectacled... elf?                 3m   2h

:Kerbasy         A young priest, cheerful despite his somber garb.     0s   5d

:Mikilos         Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome.        17s  1h

: Sandy           The HIPpest elf ever. Practically a HIPpy.            3s   19h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Out <O>                   

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-</font>

The Mourner falls back, kicked, abused, and gravy poured upon him! It's how Sandy treats all her beaus, and he starts to look terrified around the edges. "Uh...heh. Well, don't leave it out? It's like you're not hungry, heh," he suggests as he quick-plops back into his seat. And the seat moves nonconspiciously away from Sandy. And he then snatches a roll anyway. He has all this gravy. "It's uh...m'apologies, Mikilos. I think those were your pork chops." Scoot. Scoot-scoot. 

The maneuvering? Puts Mikilos nearer Sandy.

Somehow.

/Somehow/.

Mikilos? Is a brave, brave sildanyari.

Constantin exhales, spearing piece of pork chop, before opining. "Who's afraid of a little tarting? Own your hips, elf-sister!"

"Oh, shut up," says Sandy to Constantin, glaring at him murderously before she then eyes the Moruner and Mikilos, "No. Don't even," she tells them both, then to Saevrinimata, "Uh *huh*,' she remarks, with a hint of sarcasm. Then she takes a bite of food.

Mikilos smiles, and shakes his head. "No, not my pork chops. I don't eat." The wizard gestures, sending the meat before him back to the Mourner's plate without fingers or forks touching it along the way. He glances to Sandy, blinking innocently. Which is anything but innocent. "Oh, no, thank you. Flattered, but no. Aunt Marith would kill me if I wed someone to whom she'd not first given approval. Or at least met."

Saevrinimata looks at Mikilos, handily ignoring Sandy and by extension, any of her opinions on virtually anything,"ARE YOU SAYING MY FRIEND'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?" Then she looks at Sandy,"Gimme more ale. I need some so I can get drunk enough to fisticuffs in your honor!" Then back to Mikilos,"You take that back and marry my friend right now!"

Kerbasy looks stunned a moment, and then kicks back. "Heh. Looks like I'm performin' a weddin' after all. Give me a moment..." he says and he reaches for one of the drinks. Doesn't matter whose. Just matters that all. Of. It's. Gone. Very. Soon.

"I am not marrying anyone!" Sandy says, loudly. Very loudly. But she does, in fact, hand Saevrinimata another pair of druinks. Then sehe steps on Kerbasy's foot.

Mikilos for his part kicks the leg of Kerbasy's chair. Hard. Maybe it snaps, maybe it doesn't. The effort was given, and that's the important part. Turning his focus to Sae and ignoreing any crashing noises, the elf shakes his head. "Not saying that at all. Just that the wedding can't be today. Not without a great deal of rushed teleportation, and that's a little beyond my current abilities."

Saevrinimata drains one tankard happily, then wildly points at Sandy, and says to Mikilos,"That's okay! She's a great caster! She could have you on Kor's own battleground with nary a wink!"

Kerbasy yanks his foot back, tears stinking his eyes as he hoists the drink. He drinks it anyway, let'em think the moisture's from the alcohol. "Heh. Dearly beloved, we are gathered--" he pauses, and regathers himself. "We are gathered here t'day--" he says more loudly. And reaches down and grasps, then hoists Saevrin--somenameIcan'tspellohgod's hand instead of Mikilos'. By mistake.

"No!" Sandy immediately pointing at Saevrinimata just like that. Pointing RIGHT back. Then she dumps her drink in KErbasy's lap.

Constantin gestures. "Oh, what's all the fuss. Elves."

Saevrinimata points at Sandy again and yells,"YES!" And then she dumps her other drink in Kerbasy's lap, too! "Just skip to the part where she says I do! I'll do it for her!"

"T' join uh--well, I mean. I guess we--urk." And he looks down. And you know what? There's a pair of drinks, poured on him. One. Right after the other. Almost simultaneous. And he grins a bit. "I uh, never figured Sandy's weddin' would be an easy one."

And then Sandy leans over and quickly hugs Saevrinimata. That her hand is now going oevr her mouth is PURE COINCIDENCE.

Mikilos looks to Sae, look to Kerbasy, then looks to Sandy. "Erm.... run? Is running an option? Hrm, wait , no, better.... one moment..."

Saevrinimata waves her hands demonstratively and wiggles her fingers to punctuate her very important and eloquent thoughts. Wiggle wiggle wiggle! Then she hugs Sandy back. While a hand creeps towards her coin pouch.

"Well, uh. I nowpronounceyoumanandwife! ...heh. Though uh...sir," Kerbasy nods once, kind of drunkenly to Saevohgodwhataname! and says in a whisper that really isn't, "If y'want to look more like a guy, suh. You shouldn't wear uh, skirts like that." Elves. They all look the same. And then the drunken Mourner stands, and hoists one of the tankards. "To Sandy! And th' gent whose name is so heh. Grand that I can't even say it sober! Bottoms up!"

Announcement: BeagleBumble shouts, "Attention all! Congratulations are in order! Please page Sandy congrats on her new marriage! May the bride live happily ever after, and so forth and so on, and leafboats! :D"

"That had no relevance. We're not married," says Sandy, firmly. She doesn't notice Saevrinimata reaching for her coin purse, though she has begun to let her go. "NOT MARRIED. Gods above." Her hands go on her hips for a moment and she settles back down in her chair. "You're lucky I'm too drunk to punch someone."

Mikilos mutters to himself a moment, then hops up onto the seat of his chair. Raising his hands into the air, the wizard intones a quick arcane phrase, gestures, and blinks out. No sparkles, no smoke, just suddenly gone. Well, sort of, to anyoneeven vaugely familiar with the spell. Which hopefully isn't anyone who cares to find him.

Announcement: BeagleBumble shouts, "200 XP bonus to the first person who posts the log, then adds a notice on +bbpost. :D"

Aleron goes home.

Aleron has left.

Saevrinimata meanwhile has decided to climb over Sandy's shoulder once she has the coin purse,"I need to go to the jewelry store! We don't even have proper rings! And I'll need to invite all our families for a proper leven service! Of course, we'll have to hire someone to recite all four thousand stanzas of "The Saevrinim". I mean, it's a wedding and I'm named after the damned thing. Or, rather, the first of my name is and I was named for them."

Sandy buries her face in her hands afterwards. She's trying to hide the abject laughter.

Kerbasy hoists his tankard in salute to the new couple. "Heh. Blessin' on the both of you!" and to Constantin. "Love's a beautiful thing."

Mikilos just keeps very still and quiet. One day he'll learn more spells he can cast while invisible, but, well, he's been busy with other things.

Saevrinimata tucks away Sandy's coin pouch and then informs her quite calmly,"Hubby, someone stole your coin pouch." Ooooh. Look. Ale. She helps herself to another tankard and then tries to climb on top of the table for a nap.

Kerbasy hoists the tankard again, and then wanders off to shake hands and receive slaps on the shoulders. From some very. Very. Terrified.

Stunned.

Looking patrons.

Very quickly. Very quietly.

The Den begins to empty.

Kerbasy goes OOC.


-----
<font face="courier">

<nowiki>=========================== IC: Rumors and Gossip ============================</nowiki>

Message: 7/16                      Posted        Author
Strange Sildanyari Rituals         Tue Nov 27    BeagleBumble

<nowiki>------------------------------------------------------------------------------</nowiki>

Word whips through the streets like a whippoorwill. Sandy! The Shrew! Married!

A hoax! A lie!

But the rumors persist. Refuse to be put down.

Others claim they saw the sildanyari with another (they assume it's male, so difficult to tell with the pointy-eared) heading towards a jewelry shoppe. Or discussing one.

A mage comes forward and swears he was hired to whisk the two away to a secret, unbeknown beach locale!

Scandal! Lies! Hoax!

...but. What if it's TRUE???

Statements from Steel Von Ironblood have yet to be collected.

<nowiki>==============================================================================</nowiki>


<nowiki>=========================== IC: Rumors and Gossip ============================</nowiki>

Message: 7/17                      Posted        Author
A tiny ad in the next edition of t Tue Nov 27    Sandy

<nowiki>------------------------------------------------------------------------------</nowiki>

In various newspapers that do exist, the Lady Sandiel takes out a small ad. It says: 
 
"I am not married. I am not getting married. THAT IS ALL." 
 
No doubt this will do nothing to help stomp out any speculation. It's too amusing to too many.

<nowiki>==============================================================================</nowiki>


<nowiki>=========================== IC: Rumors and Gossip ============================</nowiki>

Message: 7/18                      Posted        Author
Single Mithralla                   Tue Nov 27    Mikilos

<nowiki>------------------------------------------------------------------------------</nowiki>

Mikilos Mithralla is still single. There are postings of this, placed where the elf's usual busniess flyers go. Single. Any rumors to the contrary are false, and any details into the matter unimportant. And any deligations of inquiry from his family are really unnesssary and please please just go back home....

<nowiki>==============================================================================</nowiki>
</font>
[[Category:Logs]]