Two and a Half Men

Usha tilts her head, "I'm Usha." she responds. "Shall we go somewhere warmer?" she asks. And then adds with a bit of a smile, "Somewhere with wine?"

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* The Fernwood Pub - Tavern *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

	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. 

	At the very back of the pub is a stairwell that leads up to the residential floor.

	Note: Local beer, drink, and food names can be found in the lexicon: 
                 http://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php/Player-Made_Lexicon.

                          <+view here/Extras>                           

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Strike          A dusky grey half elf girl in grey and black clothes. 44s  17m
 Abrahil         A valiant, gnomish slayer of paper demons.            0s   1d
 Usha            Shadow-elf dressed in white. Big hair.                2s   1h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Upstairs               Out <O>                   

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

<Meet> You offer to meet Boshter.

Boshter has arrived.

<Meet> Boshter joins you.

Usha Steps through the door in a hurry, glad to get in from the cold. She's sharing her cloak with a half-elf at the moment. As soon as they get in, Usha gives a sigh of relief at the change in temperature. "Much better." she anounces.

"Oh! And then I said...oh! You should have just seen the colors, Boshter!" and on the chatter goes. Abrahil bounces along beside Boshter, having struck up a conversation along the way. His rose-lenses are in one hand as he cleans them, and his step is cheerful and lively.

Strike continues to shiver a little as they arrive in the heated tavern but is quick to nod in response, "Yes." The half-elf gives the place a lookover and starts to straighten some out from huddling with Usha in her cloak.

And Boshter is following Abrahil inside, "Oh, I imagine they were very good! Hello, Fernwood! I am Boshter of Blar and I have come for your alcoholic drinks!"

"Oh, my. Why, yes, they--ooh!" And Abrahil's jostled to the side as Boshter bounds forward! His round form wobbles and he collides into the two snuggling elves. "Oh, my! Good SIRS! I do apologize to you young lads!"

Usha smilesagain, and lets strike borrow the cloak for now. "You go warm up by the fire. I just need to um freshen up, then I'll get our drinks." she says. And makes her way for the little door in the back.

Until she's interupted by a toppling gnome, "Ack!" she complains, stumbling a little and grabbing a table to steady herself.

Strike stumbles a little as a nearby gnome becomes a roadhazard. She catches herself relatively well, her staff helping a bit and she turns to check on Usha, "Are you alright?" she inquires. There is a look at the gnome, vague annoyance there, though the misused honorific doesn't seem to affect her, any.

As Abrahil wobbles, Boshter steps closer, laughing. That's when one of the gnome's elbows flies out and strikes him straight in the groin. The hobgoblin makes an 'erk' sound and falls straight to his knees and then over on his side like a great wounded animal.

Usha on the other hand seems a little more irked. "I don't know what sort of men ypu keep company with, but usually men don't wear dresses." she says then, and huffs. True, Strikes's outfit is slightly ambiguous, but Usha is definitely wearing a dress. "Now, if you don't mind." the offended shadow elf says, she steps around Abrahil, over Boshter, and makes her way for the little room.

"Oh, my! I'm terribly sorr--oh...oh, my. Oh! Well, I thought you might be a wizard of some kind, they're--oh, oh my. Boshter! That's the second time this week! What with your attitudes towards the fruit vendors..." and the gnome hurries over to the poor, crouched over arvek. "Someone get him tea!"

Turning toward the fetus of groin-trauma on the floor, Strike chides the little one with a, "You should be mindful of your limbs." before she drifts over to check on Boshter while Usha moves to get her wine, "Will you recover?" she wonders.

Boshter just groans a little at Strike's words and then finally unclenches himself. "...was not ready," he manages to utter. He slowly forces himself to get back to his feet, eyeing Abrahil, "It's okay," he says after a moment. "The fruit vendors -- they are always running out of time."

Usha eventually returns from wherever it isnshe went off to, and heads to the bar to order two glasses of warm mulled wine for her and her travel companion. She doesn't seem to pay much attention to the hobgoblin on the ground- in fact, it doesn't seem to surprise her at all.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* The Fernwood Pub - Tavern *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

	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. 

	At the very back of the pub is a stairwell that leads up to the residential floor.

	Note: Local beer, drink, and food names can be found in the lexicon: http://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php/Player-Made_Lexicon.

                          <+view here/Extras>                           

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

 Strike          A dusky grey half elf girl in grey and black clothes. 3m   54m

 Abrahil         A valiant, gnomish slayer of paper demons.            0s   1d

 Boshter         A hobgoblin in robes. Oh no!                          1m   3d

 Usha            Shadow-elf dressed in white. Big hair.                1m   2h

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

Upstairs               Out <O>                   

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

"Out of...why...oh, dear. Boshter, are you *sure* you're *quite* alright? Really, you're making less sense than normal..." Abrahil pats the arvek's hand as he frets, before turning to--and blinks up at the very, very tall..."Oh, dear. Are /you/ alright? Your fellow sounds quite...well, I don't *quite* want to venture into..."

Strike nods at the affirmations and turns to return to her previous directive. With steady footfalls, the half-elf drifts toward the fireplace to soak in the warmth, while the friends reconcile(?) behind her.

Usha eventually settles in next to Strike, handing over the glass of spiced wine. "There, that should warm you up." she insists to the other woman and reaches out to warm her hands by the fire.

"Ow, ow, yes. I will be fine," says Boshter as he gingerly gets to his feet. He seems to still be in pain somewhat. Who knew gnome elbows were so painful? He looks at Strike and then at Usha, giving the two of them a thumbs up.

Abrahil rolls backwards as Boshter stands. Rolls more than walks, and bumbles more than steps. "Oh, dear. ...well, goodness! It was quite the fall, wasn't it?" And patting the arvek's hand, he leads him to a table near the fire. "How /is/ that ogress, by the way?"

Strike gives Usha a soft, "Thank you." as she accepts the wine. She props her staff against her shoulder and slides the cloak off her shoulders to return to the fullblood. A glance as the two males take residence nearby, then, "Is there a proper way to consume this?"

Usha Usha shrugs, "Well, you don't want to swig it all back too quickly." she suggests. "Just take little sips." she adds then, and demonstrates by doing just that. Shestretches out her legs, then, to warm her toes as well. "Tell me what you think." she then saysto theunusual half-ef beside her.

"Ow ow ow ow," is Boshter's continuing mutterings. Then he looks at Abrahil and then is lead to sit down. "She is well, actually, though I am unsure as to whether or not we will see each other again. Because she is an ogress and quite terrifying and I am never going to forgive you for setting me up on a date with an ogre." He sounds quite amused for a moment now that he's got his ability to speak back.

Strike takes the woman's advice and slowly sips of it's contents. Her eyes close and the face she makes is kind of odd as she mulls it over, then, "Bitter. Sweet. Tangy. I can... feel it making it's way down... is that normal....?"

Usha nods, "Yeah, you'll feel it hit your belly and kind of... i don't knpw. Just warm you up. Likenthere's a little bit of the hearth in your stomach." she says then. "It's very nice when you're trying to warm up." she asserts, then sipsagain.

Usha has reconnected.

Strike seems somewhat dubious for a moment, then tries to take another, longer sip. A slow sigh through her nose, then, "I... believe I feel what you are describing...."

Usha smiles and then warns, "It's nice, but don't drink too much too quickly. Or it can suddenly want to come out all at once. It will also make you light-headed and... uhm..." she leans in to say something privately.

Usha has partially disconnected.

There is a puzzled look from Strike and, "Quicken my water?" she asks innocently, '

"I THINK SHE MEANS MAKE YOU PEE," replies Boshter loudly to Strike.

VERY loudly.

Usha usha goes bright red, "Yes, but not so loud! Remember, some things are private." she lowers her own voice again. "Wine and other drinksnlike ale and spirits make... uhm..." she pauses a moment, and then boshter fills her in. Usha facepalms. "Ye. More often." she is clearly mortified, and stares resolutely into the fire.

"Oh! Why, yes. SOME PEOPLE FIND THAT VERY ATTRACTIVE," Abrahil responds in the same voice. "They try to do it on purpose, you know. ...get you to pee. Or get OTHERS to talk about peeing. ...why, I've read all about it in the tabloids!" he says to Boshter.

Strike doesn't seem especially shamefaced by the faux pas, though she does frown a little in consideration. A glance toward the males at their helpful interjections, then, "Flesh made more sense when it was someone else's problem." she muses before drinking some more.

Zahd pushes open the wooden door and steps into the Fernwood.

Zahd has arrived.

Usha burries her face in her hands. She remains like this for some time before she finally says, "Yes, i'm sure most people wo habe been flesh their wjole lives would agree with you." she tells Strike then. She decides she needs to drain the entire remainder of her glass of wine and order another one if she's going to share an establishment with the hobgoblin and the gnome.

Zahd enters the pub, head bandaged as he seems to be a bit bleary eyed. He starts heading towards the normal people tables but stops in his tracks, as he realizes something. He shouts, "Bring me some Younger's Juice." as he stumbles over towards one of the small people's table.

Zahd removes the 'great'sword from his back as he settles into a chair. He slams a couple of coppers onto the tabletop and shouts again, "And whatever slop you have warm in the back!" He seems to be a foul little thing as he looks around the pub. His masculine little arms bulge in ways that isn't seen in most gnomes.

Strike sits down next to Usha near the fireplace, still holding her glass of wine, though she sets her staff against the wall. The hobgoblin who'd so ably bested her the other day sits nearby with the gnome. Watching Usha consume her drink so handily after explaining otherwise, "Won't you set yourself on fire drinking that fast?"

"Oh, my. It's /just/ like the tabloids and like they say," says Abrahil as he turns back around in his seat at the table. "He downed the whole thing!" The round and ancient fellow's eyes are wide behind his lenses, and he appears somewhat scandalized, to judge by the wrinkles in his brow. He gives a small wave to the new arrival, though, just before one of the waiters arrives with his meal.

"Oh my!" Boshter says, just because Abrahil said it, mostly. Poor Usha.

Zahd notices the gesture from Abrahil as he sits around waiting for his food and drink to be brought out. A confused look crosses his face as he looks behind him to see there is nobody there. Raising his hand a bit hesitantly he says, "Evening."

"Oh, dear! Well, hello! You must be new in these parts? I'm...oh, dear. Well, I do a little work for our community this side of the City. It's nice to meet you. And...oh." And he leans in to Zahd, and whispers, though it carries quite loudly as he's spent his life in theatre--he's not quite learned how to NOT stage-whisper, "I THINK THOSE TWO SILDANYARI GENTLEMEN WOULD LIKE SOME PRIVACY! SO PLEASE DON'T STARE!"

Usha has reconnected.

Usha tilts her head a bit at Strike, "It doesn't quite wotk that way." she insists and then gets her next drink. She takes a smaller sip and pointedly ignores the loud gnome.

Zahd's food arrives just as Abrahil fills him in on the details. Despite being told not to stare, his gaze instantly moves over towards the two near the fireplace. His little gnomish brow furrows as he squints while looking at them. He then comments to Abrahil in a somewhat questioning tone, "Gentlemen?"

Nodding, Boshter does not correct Abrahil. At all. He adds, "Gentlemen." His lips twitch. Just a little.

Strike glances over at the loudly whispering gnome, examining him and his companion for a few moments in consideration, then looks to Usha again at her explanation. She shakes her head, closes her eyes and silences any more musing with a healthier swig of her wine. Meatbags are never gonna make sense at this rate.

Usha frowns, and her ear twitches just a bit at the continjed conversation going on between abrahil and anyone who will listen. she practically snathes her drink from the serving girl and takes a sip, still doing her best impression of slmeone who isn't considering taking up professional gnome punting.

It's not a very good impression.

Abrahil looks over, and then back again. "I do believe they're a wizard's robes, m'boy. And oh, have a seat, have a seat! I can tell you've just come back from an adventure! ...you get those sort of senses when you're ancient, you know," he confides. And then reaches up, adjusts his lenses. And looks over at the cuddling pair, and then back again. "Are you entirely /certain/?" he asks Boshter. And to the sildanyari, "Do you two need any change? Why, I've been in places like yours--oh! When I was younger! ...I'd be happy to spot you a few coppers if you need a place to continue...oh. ...well, I suppose we don't mention that in polite company, do we?" he asks, looking back to Boshter.

"I... I..." Boshter can't help it any more. He starts to laugh helplessly.

Zahd nods and says, "I feel like I am still on that adventure being stuck in this form." He gestures to his body. He too watches the cuddling pair as he takes his food and drink and plops down next to Abrahil. He asks, "So what's the story with them?" as he headnods towards the couple next to the fireplace.

Abrahil adjusts his lenses, and blinks at Boshter. "I was quite the rake in my day," he says, somewhat affronted. And then to Zahd, "Oh, dear. ...well...I don't think it's the sort of thing you talk about in polite society. That's why I offered to pay for their room!"

The half-elf continues to drink sedately from her wine while her comanion is trying not be visibly seething. And, strangely observant in such matters, Strike looks at Usha, then the gnome who's words seem to be connected. She turns her attention his way and ventures, "You are in error, sir. I have no amorous ambitions."

Usha "And we're not gentlemen!" Usha suddenly yells, turning towards the gnimes. "If this is some weird ploy to get me to prove it, you,re going to be sorely dissapointed!" she says then. Then becomes acutely aware of how loud her outburst was. "I'm just... going to crawl into the fire now." lUsha says, and sort of slumps over infront of t.

Zahd slaps his knee and says, "Ah it appears we have become the literal highwaymen of passion this night." With a bit of cruel joy in his voice he comments, "Perhaps we should have spoken more silently as to not interrupt their mating rituals?"

"Oh!" Abrahil's ears turn a touch red. "Are you /sure/ they're not...?" he asks Boshter, before quite choking on his drink. He thumps his ancient chest. He is quite old, you know!

Boshter is still laughing. Even harder after Usha's outburst, actually.

Zahd nudges Abrahil as he finishes down his own drink and puts the bowl of whatever it was made into a stew back on the tabletop. He says, "How about we make ourselves over to a more decent bar, old man. You can tell me a story of your adventuring days."

Looking between the two tiny males, in all of the woes of her predicament, Strike has managed to find a silver lining: She wasn't brought back as a gnome. She watches Usha crawl toward the fireplace and frowns in some small concern, judging her to be relatively safe from the flames, the half-elf makes her way toward the barkeeper to order some food.

Usha Usha just curls up in an embarassed ball of embarassment by the fire. Emerging occasionally to drown her woes in wine.

Zahd grabs up his little greatsword and straps it to his back as he exits the pub the same way he came in, injurred and gnome.

Zahd goes OOC.

Zahd has left.

Usha has partially disconnected.

Usha peeks out once she thinks it's safe. "So. Strike, what was your first day as a... well, organic like?" she wonders.

The half-elf's gait halts and she is still and silent for a few as she thinks back to that time. As little as she likes her current circumstances... thinking back to those first moments...? There is something in her voice as she answers simply, "I woke up... in hell..."