Chat Spice

Tenebrae - Tuesday, February 11, 2014, 9:15 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* 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.

Zoob stands at the bar, holding a mug in both hands, speaking with Cesran. "Part of the dish? I suppose, but the best part for me. I'm always looking for new neat spices and stuff that I haven't tried yet, and spices are usually easier to get than some new vegetable or meat that I haven't seen in the past, unless I've been hunting in a new area of course, then, maybe not.

Cesran has a green hornet drink in his hand and is leaning against the bar, "Depends on the spice, I come from the Jade islands where there are lots of spices that you can't get here or elsewhere or that cost so much you could buy a horse or a new sword, for most that is unthinkable."

Bennet enters the Fernwood with a bang. Which has less to do with the gunman and more with the group of teenage Lucht rushing in behind him. Standing the tide with mild amusement, Bennet waits until the group rushes past to join some friends upstairs before heading towards the bar proper.

Zoob swigs the last of his ale and reaches up to place the mug on the bar. "That said, I'm going to go find some perper Gobber food, all this talk of spices has made me hungry."He scampers to he door and out, dodging small small children as he goes.

Cesran smiles at Zoob, "See you later. Perhaps you'll let me cook you something from the Jade Islands and you can see how spicy it is. I'll see you later." He finishes his drink and just leans against the bar.

Zoob has left.

Bennet takes a moment to speak with the bartender before peering after Zoob. "'Proper gobber food'... I heard the words, but still ain't sure they make sense." Shrugging, he eyes Cesran a moment. "Can't say as I know much bout the Islands. Visited a bit, back when was young and dumb... dumber... can't say as recall much by way of spices. Then again, don't recall much at all, save them fruity drinks pack a punch."

Cesran smiles, "You'd be surprised how good goblin food really is, just have to make sure of what you are eating or not ask and just pretend it's cow meat. I was born and raised there. The name is Cesran."

Bennet nods, offering a firm handshake. "Bennet Susson, Absolution of the Grey Lady. Knew a gobber chef for a time. Weren't bad eats, but can't say would call a lick of it 'proper'."

Cesran nods, "Yah sometimes it's better not to look into the cook's pot to see what the stew really is." He gives a hand shake back, "Wizard of the Society for Progressive Arcanists."

Bennet nods, and ponders a moment, taking a sip of ale as his mug arrives. "Been wondering a bit... what 'xactly makes the local wizards 'Progressive'? Can't say seen much diffrence from any other wizards I met. Not that met all that many."

Cesran hmms, "Well before the society there was the Academy of Sages which had a local chapter here before the fall of Animus." He pauses to bow his head in remembrance of the fallen god. "The Academy of Sages was replaced in this city when it disappeared into the mists the first time and was gone from the world for 5 years. It was only a few months for those inside the city."

Bennet nods, vaugely intrested. "Still don't sound all that progressive."

Cesran nods, "Well before the Academy of Sages was primarily for wizards like myself, but they now take sorcerers and bards any that are interested in arcane magic, so in that way they like to think of themselves as progressive."

Bennet mulls over that a few moments, sipping his ale. "Still seems a lotta skinny city boys with their nose in books. But guess that is progress."

Cesran smiles, 'Trust me it's not. Besides wizards and other arcane users routinely go on adventures where we put our knowledge and skills to good use."

Bennet nods, and waves vaugely. "Sure, always been some exceptions to an otherwise rule. But iffen ya head inta the academy, and ya bump into a fellow, most of the time, what he gonna be? Skinny fella with more books than brains."

Cesran hmms, "I wouldn't say they had more books then brains, nose stuck in books perhaps, but most of those at the society are very smart, not always the most social, but definitely smart."

Bennet ehs. "There's smart, and there's knowing how to use them smarts. Bandit, all armored up, rideing away at top speed, 'bout to hit the woods he knows better than you. Book fella might use some fancy spell, or talk 'bout useing the forrest 'gainst 'im. Fella with brains shoots the horse."

Cesran hmms, "That is true knowing something and then knowing when to use that knowledge are two different things, but why would you hurt an innocent horse. Knowing how to do something doesn't mean you are good at doing it."

Bennet snorts. "Ain't no such thing as an innocent horse. Almost as bad as mules. Ain't their choice who rides 'em, and ain't my place to let some bandit go on account of some critter. But yer right, big difference in knowing what to do, and knowing how to get it done."

Cesran shrugs, 'A horse is just an animal, you can't blame it for what it's rider does, but then again I tend to conjure my steeds when I am in need of one."

Bennet nods, and ponders a moment. "Reckon depends on what ya conjure. Nightmare snorting fire, pretty sure can place some blame there. But reckon that ain't what yer callin."

Cesran shakes his head, "No I wouldn't call up a nightmare, but a phantom steed is more my kind of style."

Bennet ponders a few moments. "Can't say as I strictly know the difference."

Cesran hmms, "Well a nightmare is a monster while a phantom steed is a a counjurred animal. If you will excuse me it's been great talking to you, but I have some studying I need to be doing."

Bennet grins, and waves vaugely. "Not a bother. You head along now, I'll just stay here and keep the place safe 'till ya get back."