Charnese Cuisine

Log Info

• Title: Charnese Cusine (MEETUP)
• Emitter: Solace
• Characters: Solace, Selia, Svarshan, Bellna, Benthus
• Place: Alexandria - 'The Rail'
• Time: July 29, 2014
• Summary: A new restaurant opens, enticing Charnese exiles and the curious alike. It ends about how one would expect.

It's not easy to whitewash a place known as the Stygian Empire, but the newest restaurant in the Lower Trades seems to be determined to try. Constructed in the goblin part of town, the building stands out for two facts: it's constructed in a decidedly Aby'ssan style, and it's still standing. A sign out front, flanked by gears, proclaims this to be "The Rail", with a line in smaller script beneath: "Exotic Cuisine, The Alexandrian Way!"

Inside, the large dining room has been decorated in upper-class Charnese style, and for the grand opening, there are a multitude of white-gloved, darkly-dressed servitors circulating with plates of bite-sized appetizers and shot glasses filled with a clear, powerful Charnese liquor. At one end of the room is a bar, well-stocked with various alcohols being served at a deep discount for the grand opening. At the other end is a stage, and a trio of musicians are playing the closest Charn gets to rollicking drinking songs. The lyrics to most of them talk about crushing the weak and establishing Charn dominance on the world, but luckily, no one's singing. Yet. The Charn Imperial seal is emblazoned on various things, likely in a bid to make the decor look 'authentic'. To anyone actually from Charn, it rather looks like the whole place just got impounded by the Tyrannus Maximus. As another 'cultural' touch, someone has created a small mockup of the Castle Conquera, pre-crashing. It's floating around the room on a pre-programmed track, the battlements altered to carry long-stemmed glasses of wine from Valdoren grapes. Warning lights around the walls let people know which direction it's going to be heading.

The attendees are mostly the curious. Some actual Charn expats have been lured in by the prospect of deep discounts, especially if they're wearing 'traditional cultural costume'. In a vague hope that there might be something edible and not illegal on the menu, Solace has responded to the invitation, and is talking quietly to the owner of the restaurant, a cheerful little gnome in her version of a Charn noblewoman's dress. It's very, very bright. His own clothing is more authentic, but still rather gaudy, what with the heavy embroidery favored by those who have more servants and money than fashion sense. "So," Solace says, thoughtfully, "you've never actually been to Aby'ssa? Or...anywhere else in the Empire?"

"It's not necessary for me to have been there in body. I know Charn in my heart," she says, with a wide smile. "And I know that we can find peace and understanding with our brothers and sisters of Charn, if only we reach out to them. I want The Rail to be a place of cultural exchange, of growing and learning and sharing."

She is so painfully sincere that Solace can only blink at her a couple of times, then say, "Ah...well. I admire the sentiment behind it." There's not much enthusiasm there, but he manages a wan smile. Thup. The door to the restaurant closes, and the foolhardy steps through. No, it's a sith-makar. No, it's a palad--oh. Yeah. Foolhardy. Well, one could only look at a dictionary, and find the illustration right there.

He wears gleaming maille, done in mithral, with the Father Dragon's gleaming emblems emblazoned upon it. And then he goes, and sits down at one of the tables.

Selia arrives in proper Charnese fashion... which is to say, with a pair of loyal thugs leading the way. In this case, a pair of hobs from one of the Dancer's frequent hang outs. The brothers glower menaceingly, but have a bad habit of breaking charecter to giggle at each other's 'though guy' face. The Lucht herself is in something of traditional garb, a long dress with perhaps a few too many ruffles to be any sort of practical, modestly high in front, but the back cut dangerously low. The large Salve Mark upon her back certainly isn't normal for such a high class dress, nor the small array of knives in her sash, but argueing might prove unwise.

The Gnomish owner beams as Svarshan comes through the doors. She raps Solace sharply on the shoulder as he groans and palms his face. "See," she says, "it's already working! Just think, this could be the very place where we learn to have a new appreciation for each other."

"I don't think that's why he's /here/," Solace says, wearily. The chairs groan and threaten to break under the sith-makar's bulk, but that doesn't stop the floating tiny Castle Conquera from zeroing in on the paladin to offer it a tasty, tasty drink. Solace follows, giving him a look. "So. How long before things start breaking?"

Meanwhile, Selia is greeted with enthusiasm by the gnome. "Hello, hello! Oh, what a beautiful dress. Would you like a drink? Perhaps some caviar? We hope that coming to The Rail is like coming home!"

A woman dressed in fine robes enters shortly after, apparently arguing with a snake. The odd thing is, the snake is *not* speaking back. The gist of the argument seems to be that the woman is very much not sure about being here, and the snake has apparently been "sitting on the bloody empathic bond" to get her to go out more, and that this place was opening, and something about spell research...

Svarshan looks over at the entrance, and gives a thump of his tail in greeting, before looking back and watching the hostess. His posture is relaxed with the tail just against the floor behind him, and the broad shoulders slightly bent. He smiles warmly at the hostess, and then to Solace.

Bellna looks around. "Hm. Very... ostentatious. Aura, are you *sure-* yes, you are, I can *feel* how sure you are, and annoyed, and is that a *tiny castle* serving drinks?" Yes, yes it is. "I think I need one." At which point she makes good on her plan, and goes over to get a drink from the tiny castle.

Selia mmms mildly, peering about the place. "Posh, but nay 'nuff chains nor whips fer dat proper homey feel. Don't proper smell like piss neither." The Dancer replies in a distinctly LOW Charneese accent.

"That's not a smile," Solace mutters at Svarshan. "It's just a bunch of teeth playing with my mind." He gives the paladin a narrow eyed look, before turning at the sound of Selia's voice. He offers a very HIGH Charnese bow in return. "Let's be thankful for both those facts, shall we? The menu is rather more pleasant, as well." The gnome flutters around everyone.

"OOh, here, do try this," she offers an appetizer to Selia. "Doesn't it taste like it should?" She waves her hand and the castle bobs its way over to offer Bellna a drink. Another gesture and the musicians flourish. She's trying /very/ hard.

"I have. Alwaysss been fond of. Charn. I have visssited. Many times," Svarshan says to Solace. "Very. Many timesss...but not as often as the Hells. I prefer the. Warmer weather. And the danssser is right." He smiles again to Solace, warmly. Perhaps there are a few teeth. Oh, yes there are, before he turns that beaming, lizard-grin on the hostess. "It isss my pleassure to. Meet you."

Selia snorts softly, but grins a and relaxes a bit, accepting a drink and an appetizer. The later receives a somewhat lengthy, but but fair critque. Selia may not be a typical halfling, but she still knows her food. Her two 'thugs' drift off towards the bar, to engage in the culture of hobgoblins everywhere.

"I'm sure you were the perfect guest," Solace says dryly to the paladin. "You don't mind if I join you for dinner, I hope?" Because that's not entirely a request, for all that the half-elf has never /seen/ Svarshan go chompy at anything in the real world. He glances to the ladies. "Would you both care to join? The table seats four, even with Svarshan."

Bellna gratefully grabs the drink off the castle and takes a sip. It's... perhaps not exactly to her taste, but given the circumstances, Bellna's not complaining. "Ah... thank you," she ventures, somewhat awkwardly, towards the castle on the off chance that it's a magical entity. Aura, wrapped around Bellna's wrist, headbutts her hand. "Alright," Bellna replies warily. She walks towards the table. "As long as you do not mind snakes."

"Yesss. We paid a ssocial call to Barntos. The defiler of the. Vardamen Templess? He hass established a. High Priessthood there. We had. Tea." Svarshan leans against the chair as he talks. His voice has taken on a Myrrish cadence which doesn't seem faked. More, half-remembered. To the host, he continues to smile, and then nudges a few chairs to the side for Bellna and Selia.

Solace sits down. Which only makes it more obvious when he squirms uncomfortably. "Ah, yes. I'm sure that went, ah, swimmingly. I could use some..." not tea. Instead, he snags a shotglass of the clear liquor the human servers are carrying around, and some bite-sized tidbits for good measure. His smile at Bellna is a bit strained. "So long as it doesn't transform into a huge snake which is also your mount, I think I can manage."

Meanwhile, the gnome flits around, bringing menus to both their table and several others. The menus are in both Charnese and tradespeak. She pauses, though, as she catches sight of Selia's back. "Oh my...is that a real slave mark?" She makes it sound like she just found the prize in a box of cereal. "How fascinating!"

Selia ponders a moment, but grabs the offered chair to stand upon. Don't seem to be any properly suited form one of her height, not that she's looked. "Can't say as been back ta visit, though reckon may some day. If only find out fer sure wot 'appened to me Mum when da Pits went off." She glances to the gnome with a neutral look, and nods. "Real as they come. Ya read 'em?" The Mark isn't exactly coded, but the symbols take a bit of knowledge to decipher. The Lucht's claims she is self-owned, highly trained as a Dancer, and a repeat troublemaker.

((Note: while many Marks are made as tattoos or brands, frequently sold slaves, such as Dancers, are more likely to be Marked with a long lasting skin dye.))

Bellna sits primly, smooths down her robes, and gets herself some of the food items floating (mostly metaphorically) around the room. "I'm a *wizard,* not a snake-rider. Aura is highly unlikely to grow larger, unless someone *else* decides to enchant her." The aforementioned tiny viper slides neatly off Bellna's wrist and attempts to snag one of the tidbits off her wizard's plate.

"He ssummoned devils and then tried to. Poisson a friend of. Mine." Svarshan continues to smile to the hostess before, "I perssuaded him to. Let her go, and then dismissed hiss devils." The jaw closes with a salivating click, and he quiets a while, and continues to smile.

Just.

Smiles.

And smiles warmly, that feeling of hail-fellow-how-art-thou pushed forward. "Tell me. From where isss your meat ssourced?" he asks the hostess, after a glance to Bellna.

"Eh, it is not the strangest thing a wizard has done. Especially around here," Solace says, with a smile. He seems moderately relieved that the creature is going to stay small sized, though. He glances curiously at the gnome when Selia asks her question.

The gnome says, "Only a bit! Haven't really had a chance to study many of them...oooh, I know this one. You were a wild one, weren't you?" She laughs merrily, then snaps her fingers. "Oh! We need to get you some cushions!" And she's buzzing off, no doubt soon to return with cushions. Svarshan's question is, well, let's be charitable and assume she didn't hear it.

Solace chuckles, still sounding strained, at Svarshan's commentary. "Well. He deserved it, I'm sure. So...uh. The soup, if they've done it correctly, should be quite delicious." Subject Changing Prana, activate!

Selia eyes the snake with idle interest. "Name's Aura, is it?" The halfling seems about to say more, but glances to the BrightBlade, and settles back on her chair again. Some topics are not for polite company. And sometimes, Svar counts.

Bellna smiles. "Yes, her name is Aura. She's the one that made me come here." Aura, now having a conspicuous bump in her sleek body that one would not have thought would get past the collar, thwaps Bellna with her tail. (If one was watching, it would be seen that the collar had links within it, to stretch when needed.)

"She hass. Never been to Charn." The sith leans back, and continues to watch the hostess as she bustles off before turning to Solace. He raises his brows, two scaled ridges above either eye. There's a sad, almost sad dissapointment in them at the artificer that glints in those coal-like depths. But a sort of warm humor, too. The bastard's enjoying this.

Solace peers at the snake. His brow furrows. "Why on earth would a snake have interest in such a place?" It's not scoffing, but genuinely curious. One does not live in Alexandria for long before accepting such things as a serpentine food critic. At Svar's comment, he shrugs. "Of course she hasn't. If she /had/, do you really think this place would have seemed like a good idea? But she's very, ah, enthusiastic about it." Speaking of, the gnome returns, carrying enough cushions that she's almost completely hidden behind them. She approaches Selia. "Here you go, dearie!"

Selia smiles, accepting (some of) the cushions politely. It's still a bit awkward, but the halfer is used to that. "Can't say is exactly bringing back memories, but am pretty okay with that. Means well, and reckon that counts for a lot."

Bellna chuckles. "Aura's not so much interested in the place. She's more interested in getting me here, though I doubt she minds having access to the food."

Svarshan makes a noise in the back of his throat, more a clicking, more a thoughtful noise, before falling quiet again. He watches the hostess' pillow-bringing crusade on behalf of the poor lucht, and then makes another noise.

He slowly lets out a breath, and well. Silence speaks worlds. He looks thoughtfully at the reptile, the other one. Still. Not a word. Aura attempts to go for Bellna's glass, but Bellna picks it up. "No, Aura. Not after last time you got in when I wasn't looking. The last thing we need right now is a drunk familiar."

Solace nods to Selia. "It's...well, it's a very optimistic vision of the place. But if anyone starts singing 'Conquera Rises In Fire', then we'll know to run away." A brief, sharp grin at that. He glares at Svarshan, briefly. Why? Maybe he doesn't even know. But he does add, "Besides. It's not entirely terrible to see people who have some of the same references and aren't currently trying to kill you." The snake gets an odd look. "I don't believe I've ever seen a drunk snake. How does that work?" He looks half ready to feed the creature his own glass to see. Bellna attempts to suppress a grin. "Badly."

Selia gives Solace a look. "Run -away-? Reckon you don't have da same sorta memories." Knives. Sharp, pointy knives. Selia has them.

Svarshan listens to the exchange of words. Then, brings a hand down on Solace's shoulder. Once, before looking out towards the table. He tilts his head towards Bellna for a moment.

"I very much imagine we don't," Solace says in response to Selia, and for a moment, the tone is flavored with that kind of haughtiness that suggests a sniff should be on the end of the words. Before he can actually get around to that, if that is what he planned, the paladin's hand comes down on his shoulder. It's a large hand. Solace jumps. Solace clears his throats. "Besides, I prefer to attack at range," he adds, trying to save it. About now, thankfully, soup and breads arrive to the tables, and the gnome is there again, fluttering.

"Can I get you folks something else? Maybe an egg for the snake? Do snakes actually eat eggs? I've always wondered!"

Selia smiles sweetly. "I prefer ta attack in ways wot ain't expected. Enjoy yer drink."

Bellna says, "I think Aura has had enough for the moment, lest she devour your entire kitchen." Aura looks slightly annoyed about this. "Though if you *have* an egg..."

"Oh, yes," Solace says, and smiles back at Selia. "/Now/ it feels like home." He raises his glass in a little toast to her, before downing the drink.

Apparently oblivious to any tension, the gnome claps her hands in delight at Bellna. "Oh, a wee little thing like this isn't going to cause much harm. Here, I'll go fetch her a few of our finest eggs!" And she's off again, pausing only to answer a question at another table. Soon, she returns with a bowl full of eggs of various sizes.

Svarshan moves one leg so that the foot of one is over the foot over the other, and he cracks the toes loudly, once, before looking across to Selia more directly, before looking to Bellna, "..." he lets go a breath, and then says more solemnly, "True Charnesse food iss often made from. Human flessh. On the Dragon'ss True Name, it iss the truth. But the eggsss may. Be ssafe. I do not think. You lay them." Wry. It's an almost dark humor, but he's behaving.

Bellna blinks. She was not expecting *that* many eggs. "Oh, dear. I *hope* I won't be laying any eggs!" Aura, meanwhile, is looking absolutely *delighted* at the prospect of eggs.

Selia grins, and takes a pull of her own glass before nodding to Svarshan. "Often, but nay always. And humanoid, nay strictly human. Elf is pretty tastey, but gives me gas."

The gnome stops. She gives Svarshan this little surprised face, her eyes and mouth rounded and wide. "Oh, well...I'm sure there's not...that's just a folktale, it's the kind of ignorance that this establishment serves to correct! There are many delightful recipes from Charn," she claims...then deflates when Selia supports the paladin's words.

Solace clears his throat. "There /are/ many recipes which do not involve humanoid, Miss Gibblefrum. But, ah, the produce and meat required to make them was mostly tainted long ago. Only a few can still enjoy the luxury of...more conventional proteins." At her downcast look, he adds, "Look at it this way, perhaps. Your recipes are probably more authentic Charnese cuisine than most Charnese get to eat, these days." Then he gives Svarshan a narrow-eyed stare. "It's a nice thought, /isn't it/, Svarshan." So apparently he likes the little gnome.

Bellna grits her teeth, attempting to maintain composure. She can *handle* that some species would regard her as prey, but... the discussion of it, the comparison of it? At least she has her spells, just in case- though not as powerful as she'd like. At least they seem to finally have moved off that topic.

Aura, meanwhile, is attempting to devour an egg as big as she is.

"I am not the sssort to. Lie well. By the Dragon, it isss true. And what higher power do I. Have to sswear by?" Svarshan returns the look with one of his own. In this case it's a paladin's direct: I refuse to cover up evil, that says. And that, there--No fancier words get added. No fancier arguments, no digs, no barbs. He continues to rest against the chair, and watches the hostess for her reaction. Solace, too. Selia shrugs mildly. "Is a big place. Lotta different stuff comes out. Learned most of me recipies fer Rat in da Pits, but reckon them don't see much use in no posh place like this."

The gnome sniffs. She sniffs again. "Well," she says, after a moment of thought, "I guess if that's the way it is, then we'll just have to show those fellows that they can do just as well without resorting to such things. And that we make better dinner partners than dinner courses!" Gnomes. Largely irrepressible.

Solace just sighs. He does offer Selia a half-smile, though, saying, "Let's not knock a well-cooked rat, of course. Deboning is a pain, but they make a rather excellent stew, if you've got the right spices." Presumably, the ones that make it taste like anything but rat. He glances at Aura. And stares. "...that creature isn't going to be able to slither, even if it succeeds in eating that egg."

Bellna sighs. "Aura's a snake. It is... in her nature to attempt to eat things that she has no business eating, I suppose." Aura, meanwhile, is not having much luck with the large egg, and decides, wisely, to go after a smaller one.

It's a restaurant, claiming to be authentic Charnese cuisine! (Without the humanoid, presumably.) It's also a GNOME'S idea of what a Charnese restaurant should look like, so it's rather gaudy and there's a floating tiny Castle Conquera that follows people around and tries to serve them drinks. Solace, Svarshan, Selia, and Bellna are at one table among many, where Bellna's snake is attempting to devour a bowl full of eggs as people talk.

"The Empresss does not condone the. Eating of the. SSentient." Svarshan drops a hand on Solace's shoulder again. "And your people. Eat our children." He drops the hand again, before looking to the hostess with a smile. "It wasss good to meet you. I hope you bring. Change." A third drop, before looking down at Solace. Directly. "/Good/. Change." Then to the others, "Daeuss' blessing."

"It isn't like I'm defending them," Solace mutters, although it's hard to hold up a surly demeanor when you've just been hit by a paladin's happy-whammy. He sighs, and rubs at his head, as if he can banish the peace, love, and harmony from within. "Have a good night, Svarshan. You made for a entertaining dining companion, I'm sure."

Selia waves cheerfully to the BrightBlade. "Was good ta see ya. Be well."

Benthus approaches the area with each steel-toed boot giving out a resounding 'thump' as he walks. Despite being almost covered by his tattered cloak from head to heels, the sound of his approach pretty much gives a picture of a bipedal tank. Or a heavy war goes. Despite the ominous sound of his footsteps, the people around don't seem anxious or intimidated. If anything, his presence makes those around him feel more secure. He halts his step as he reaches the new restaurant and raises his hand to pull his cowl down, exposing his face. A quizzical look is offered at the establishment, and then a shrug. He turns and makes his way to a small table that one customer has just left vacant. Before sitting, he goes about the routine of removing his armaments and propping them by the side of the table. When that is done, he looks about to establish eye-contact with a server.

It's very easy to catch the eye, not just of the server, but of the owner herself: a cheerful, rosy cheeked gnome who seems far too nice to be from Charn. She greets him as he sits with an enthusiastic flapping of hands. "Well, hello! How can we help you? Would you like some appetizers, perhaps some soup?" A menu is produced, and offered. "I hope that you will be a part of our grand experiment!" Her sadness of before seems to have disappeared entirely...possibly along with the uncomfortable truths she was told.

Solace watches Svarshan go, then smiles at Selia and Bellna. "Well, that was awkward all around, I suppose. Still, there's soup." And there is - bowls of soup are delivered, the broth a deep, saffrony orange. "So, Bellna. You probably now know a bit more about us than you wanted. What about yourself and Aura? Natives of the city?"

Bellna shrugs. "Yes. Well, Aura's a native of wherever I am, really."

Selia frowns thoughtfully, and shrugs. "Ain't sure proper native. I mean, Abyssa's where grew up, but were nay where was born."

Solace smiles at Bellna. "And are /you/ native, then?" His attention turns to Selia afterwards, curious. "Do you remember if your family might have mentioned where you were born? If that is not too forward a question to ask."

Bellna chuckles. "Yes, I am native." She doesn't seem to be elaborating.

Benthus offers the gnome a respectful dip of his head to acknowledge her presence. He listens attentively as she speaks, brows furrowed in concentration. He takes the offered menu into his hands and tries to read through it. A puzzled look appears on his face, followed by a more earnest, narrow-eyed, scan at the items. After a few more seconds, a resigned look appears on his face. Looking at the gnome, he looks apologetic and says, "I am sorry, but I have not tasted Charnese cuisines before." He pauses before saying, "I assume this are Charnese meal being listed here?" indicating the menu he is holding. After some thought, he says, "What would you recommend?"

The gnome beams up at Benthus. "It's all delightful! You'll fall in love with it the moment you taste it. But perhaps you'd like the advice of experts - why, we have genuine Charnese citizens right here, and they've been ever so helpful so far. Besides, it's no fun to dine alone, now is it?" She beckons him over towards the table where Selia, Solace, and Bellna are sitting, pulling out Svarshan's abandoned chair without so much as a by your leave.

Selia shakes her head. "Iffen Mum and Da mentioned, I were too young ta 'member. Sorta 'member going through what I reckon were da Vast, but ain't suer iffen were from there, or just passing though."

Benthus was a bit surprised by gnomes manoeuvre of having him sit at a different table, but he acquiesced to her 'suggestion' and makes the move to seat himself with others. After going through the routine of arranging his gears and weapons beneath him, he looks about those seated beside him and examines what they ate.

"Hmm. You know, Selia. I recently created a blueprint for a device which can read thoughts. While it would be a longshot, we could always see if it could be tuned to try and access those early memories. It might give you something to go on..." As Benthus sits down, Solace looks up. He also looks a bit surprised by the gnome's action, but hey can't be as bad as...he peers at Benthus. Or, more accurately, the sun symbol on his breastplate. "I hesitate to ask, but did Svarshan send you?"

Bellna rises from the table after finishing her soup. "I am afraid that, whatever Aura wishes, I do have research to get back to." She retrieves the snake from the bowl of eggs and leaves payment on the table. "Come, Aura. We still have things to do tonight." The snake appears to have taken one of the smaller eggs for the road.

Selia frowns, and shakes her head. "Don't reckon be a good idea. 'sides, iffen were sumthin there ta 'member, woulda done it. Weren't too old when went ta da streets."

Benthus arches a single brow for the briefest of moments as he takes in information on what most of the people are having. Seeing soup bowls being quite prevalent on many tables, he looks at the menu again. Still, he looks unsure of himself. "May I have what they are having?" He asked the gnome softly. At this point, Solace asks him a question. He looks at Solace and then at the tavern' exit and then back at the person, "I am familiar with the name that you speak of, but I have not the fortune to be introduced to him. No, I have not been sent by the person you mentioned."

Solace breathes a sigh of relief at Benthus' words. "Ah, well. That's good then. I am Solace." He offers his hand. The gnome tuts over Bellna's rise. "Going so soon? Well, do come back! It's very good!" She manages to do this while still taking Benthus' order - or, rather, waving down someone to bring another bowl of the soup. It's in a rich, saffron broth, and appears to be some sort of fish soup. Meanwhile, other courses are being brought out to tables. Some are scalloped pockets of dough, others are hearty stews, and a few are poached fish, or roasted duck and other fowl.

Solace adds, to Selia, "I understand. Should you decide otherwise, though, you have only to ask. It is the least I can do." A wry amusement in that.

Benthus eyes the dish that is placed in front of him. He draws close to sniff the aroma that is rising up and inhales deeply. His expression doesn't really change but he offers Solace a compliment, "It smells good." He grabs hold of the soup's spoon and delicately tastes the liquid he scooped up from the bowl. His eyes closes for a moment, his expression unreadable. After a second more, a slight nod of approval is made.

Selia waves vaugely at the talk of mind-reading, and turns her focus to the food. The tiny Dancer doesn't eat much, but she makes something of a point to at elast try a bit of everything, and offer a brief critque. Mostly it's good things, the food being high quality, after all. The authencity is a bit questionable, but let's just put that down to useing local materials.

Solace grins. "It's not bad." But he nods to Selia's critiques, adding, "It's tuned a bit for the Alexandrian palate, I should think. Not that that's a bad thing." There's a hint of dark humor to that last comment. "So," he says, to Benthus, "...I'm guessing that you're not here because you're a local."

Benthus looks at Solace for a moment, brows slightly raised in a query, "Local to Alexandria? No. Local to Charn?" He shakes his head. "It may sound impolite, I am afraid, but my presence here is by mere happenstance." He does not elaborate.

Selia nods, and turns her attention to Benthus. "So where are ya from then? And just wot brings ya here?" Teh halfling's own acent is rather thick with Low Charnish.

Solace chuckles. "Yes, sorry. I meant local to the not quite authentic culture of our current locale." Selia's question is one he's also interested in, so he falls silent and waits for Benthus to address it. And he eats his soup, neatly and with a clear level of appreciation.

GAME: Solace rolls fort: (11)+5: 16 GAME: Selia rolls fort: (6)+8: 14

Benthus shifts his gaze to Selia slowly, a mildly surprised look on his face. He was about to say something, but halted himself. His brows draw close together in thought, as if what he is about to say next may cause a reaction, "I once hailed from a settlement not far from..." He tries to pick a word, "... The 'elven' Kingdom. But I have been 'moving' at an early age. This city is not my home, but it has become my refuge in many travels."

GAME: Benthus rolls fort: (7)+11: 18

All at once, or at least within close proximity to each other, several of the individuals who've been partaking of the meal all appear to grow pale. Like they're in pain. One of them fall to a knee, making hrrking sounds.

All of you also feel a certain amount of pain, Selia receiving the worst of it.

GAME: Whirlpool damaged your constitution for 1 points. 1 total damage. GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (1): 1

Solace is just finishing up the last of his soup, with a satisfied sigh, when the first cramp hits, his stomach rebelling against something nasty. His smile turns into a grimace, and he makes a breathless sound of pain, going an unsightly shade of ashy-blue. He also looks, instantly suspicious, towards Selia. Some habits die hard.

Selia swallows. Swallows hard, and blinks even harder. "...I... don't think... that fish were cooked proper..."

Benthus draws a hand to his belly and a look of straining is on his face. His complexion suddenly turns from healthy white to sickly grey, in a matter of seconds. He dry heaves for a moment, and then a more proactive effort is made by sticking his finger into the back of his throat. Still, no effect. He grimaces even further. He looks to those who are about to eat and yells, "Stop! Don't eat the food!" "...gnnnggh," is the respond from another. THey fall to the ground, all moaning and clutching their stomachs. It buuuuurrrns. It really does, too. ach of you is feeling it now.

It's not a party with out othe p standing for poison.

"Too late," Solace says, faintly. He tries to stagger to his feet. "...must be...the kitchen." Because now is clearly the best time to go hunting down a poisoner. He sways in place, trying not to double over.

Benthus stands up albeit with a little more effort than what he normally does and scans the immediate area for threat..

GAME: Benthus rolls heal: (1)+6: 7

"You bastard!" Naturally suspicious sorts, the various poisoned exiles are threatening, blaming, and beginning to draw various knives.

From afar, Whirlpool Cackle. Whirlpool pages: Roll perception! GAME: Solace rolls perception: (20)+14: 34

Whirlpool pages: YOu find a small spatter of blood in the kitchen. Following it, you make your way towards one of the back storage rooms, wher you find one of the kitchen staffers garotted to death missing his clothes.

Whirlpool pages: Someone murdered him, took his clothes, posed as kitchen staff, and poisoned your meal!

Selia fehs and stands up on her chair, more to be seen than heard. "Stow it! Ain't nobody dumb 'nuff ta poison themselves, so ain't nobody here who done it. If it even be on purpose. Ya all know sum o' them dishes weren't quite right."

Solace would like to do some threatening himself. But he'd also like to pick the right target, and his fellow poisoned exiles (probably) aren't it. "Stop being idiots and help," he mutters, staggering past the riled folks towards the kitchen. He throws open the door, and walks inside. A moment later, his voice can be heard. "Bloody hell. The cook's been murdered."

GAME: Selia rolls diplomacy: (14)+8: 22

Benthus scans the room for women and children and does his best to place himself between them and the violent sorts in the restaurant. "Call the guards, inform them of the situation."

Selia sighs at Solace's news, and absently wipes her tongue on a napkin. "Whelp, reckon that puts a spin to it. Just hope weren't somebody wanting ta take da authencity a step too far." She glances around for the somewhat overbearing hostess.

Oh, the gnome. The poor gnome. She is rushing from person to person, fluttering her hands. "It can't have been the food," she declares. "It has to be...an illness! It can't have been the food!" And then one of the angry exiles turns on her.

"You did this to us!" He takes a pained swing at her, which she barely avoids.

"No, I had no idea!" Solace's voice from the kitchen stops her. "Bertie? Murdered?!" And then the gnome, she falls over backwards in a dead faint. WHich would have been more impressive if she'd been a few feet taller.

Solace sticks his head out of the kitchen doorway, one hand against his stomach. "Cook was strangled, clothes taken. Someone took his place...luckily, did not make him one of the entrees." He blinks at the fallen gnome. "Well. This has all gone...swimmingly."

Selia started out pretty pale. The green tinge is new. But she swallows hard again and makes her way towards the kitchen. "There a back door? Might still catch da bloke."

Benthus has trouble overhearing what Solace and Selia are saying, but he nods to them in what they are doing. He continues to assert his presence to all around to avoid taking the situation on to their own hands. When a person took a swing at the gnome owner, he makes for the person an tells him to stand down.

GAME: Benthus refreshes spells. GAME: Benthus casts Merciful Blade. Caster Level: 6 DC: 16

"And then what," Solace says, his tone faint but practical. "You got much run in you, Selia? I certainly do not." He takes a deep breath, leans against the kitchen doorframe. "We could try, though. There's a delivery door back here."

The angry Charn looks up, and up at Benthus. He swallows. "I didn't even touch 'er! She just fell over!" His hands come up and he takes a couple steps backwards.

"...auuuuugh," groans one of the poisoned people. His knife hits the ground. When Solace mentions the cook is 'strangled', everyone is still eyeing each other warily.

"If the cook did it, it couldn't have been one of us. We've all been here...' 5r "unless," moan of pain, "one of us did was working with someone and did it just to defer suspicion!"

"...can someone PLEASE send for an Althean?"

Selia swallows again, and heads for the back door. "I ain't dead. Means I can still chase down da baster making me want ta wish I was."

Benthus continues to look at the man sternly as he grips his two-handed sword, "Don't make me repeat myself! Stay down or I will use force!" He hopes everyone who is planning on doing something violent is hearing him.

"Not dead /yet/," Solace points out. "Dunno if this is going to get worse." He hears that moan for an Althean, and nods. "That's...the best - godsdamnit this hurts - option for us, I think. First. Get healed." He looks around for someone who isn't sick that he can bully in that direction. And notices Benthus with sword drawn. "...don't kill anyone. Terrible precedent."

Selia has every intention of doing something violent. Likely several things. But she also intends to verify the violent thigns are deserve on the eprson they are being done to.

Benthus continues to impress upon all those around that he is there, weapon in hand, ready to use it if anyone else plans on being a bad guy. Other than that, he does nothing. Just standing, and waiting...

Selia is heading out the back door. Waiting for a cleric means time lost. Time the poisoner gets away. Besides, not like it would be the first tiem she stumbled down a dark alley, pukeing her guts out, hunting for a killer.

Solace certainly isn't going to stop her - she could probably break him over her knee without trying hard. "Don't die," he mutters at her back, although with some real concern. But he's not going to run after her, either. Instead, after he sends someone off to find the nearest Althean, he starts trying to see who seems to be the most injured among the sick...and sneakily divesting them of any weapons they might have along the way.

GAME: Benthus rolls fort: (5)+11: 16 GAME: Selia rolls fort: (15)+8: 23 GAME: Solace rolls fort: (7)+5: 12

Selia pauses out the back door, partly to take a look for signs of recent passage, partly to get her stomach under control, and partly to change into something a little better suited for heading down alleys... which is mostly a matter of removing a few ruffles from her dress. Sure, it's ruined, but not as if she'd been planning to wear the thing again anyway.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (1): 1 GAME: Whirlpool damaged your constitution for 1 points. 2 total damage.

Selia frowns, pokeing amoment at a discarded uniform. The Dancer pauses a moment, thinking... 'If I were a murdering poisoner, which direction would I go?' It's really not that difficult of a thought experiment... but, picking a direction, Selia heads off. Chances of actually catching anyone are pretty slim, but they'd be even lower if she didn't try.

Solace remains in the restaurant, mostly trying to get some water and other fluids from sealed bottles into the sicker people, and hoping he's not accidentally killing someone while waiting for the priest.