Tavern Trouble

Xanadu Weyr - Wanderin' Wherry Tavern

It is often whispered in the crowds that converge here, that a certain Weyrleader was asked what he wanted in the remodeling of the pub that was not so long ago given a refreshing. He muttered back over the rim of his ever-present mug, "I don't care what you do with the place, just so long as there is plenty of ale." With that in mind, cask after cask of ale lines the walls of the tavern, the remodeler's idea of a jest. As they age, the casks bring a real rustic atmosphere to the pub, along with the deeply wooden flavor that seems to be the theme throughout.

The lighting is dim, as it should be in all good pubs, and the tables and chairs are plentiful. A long mahogany bar, intricately carved with runner beasts, stands vigilant duty at the head of the bar, lined with stools for those patrons that seek the bartender's company.

Evening at Xanadu, and given the noise coming from the Tavern, the evening is well begun for a number of the residents of the Weyr. Lights have been turned up inside and out as the Sun continues to set, the building casting a warm inviting glow upon the clearing, the doors standing wide open as people filter in and out. In one corner, a group of crafters are gathered once more, and a Harper is standing up on a chair, leading a rousing song, though he's having issues it seems, teaches his inebriated fellows the words, and in the opposite corner, Niva is talking to a woman about her age with an Igen knot, the two enjoying their drinks despite the noise the others are causing.

Fros makes her way in the door, yawning. She looks tousled and tired, but not in the same way anyone who's been doing a day's work. Rather, Fros looks like she just crawled out of bed, and considering the knot on her shoulder marking her as 'wherhandler', that might not be too far from reality. She moves to the bar for a moment, ordering, before looking around. The crafters get a thoughtful look, but she moves off towards Niva instead, giving them a nod. "Evenin', Weyrwoman, er-" She looks at the Igen woman and adds, "an' Ma'am. Care for company?"

Eledri is in the tavern, catching a quick bite to eat and a not so quick drink, which is amber-hued and possibly strongly alcoholic. The computercrafter has not been seen in a weyr of any kind since his rather abrupt departure some sevendays ago, when he demanded B'miel drop him off at Landing. But the young man seems to be back in Xanadu, and at least for the moment isn't grumping or glaring at anyone. In fact, he's got his head down and is focusing on his food with all the concentration he can muster. Alright, so he may e frowny, or more accurately, he may look as if he's swallowed a trundlebug, but given the stuff he's currently drinking.. well, swalling a trundlebug might be preferable. Who knows.

Norela, Avani, and Rezso make their way in together, the group making a beeline for the hearth to try to claim seats by the fire. Norela has a rather surly look on her face as she folds up her umbrella, stowing it under the seat she claims as she scoots closer to the fire. "Stupid beastcrafters." She mutters to her companions. "That's half a day wasted trudging around horrible smelling places. I'm going to need to wash this a dozen times to get the stink out."

M'nol is also sitting off to the side, a bubbly before him and a glass of milk in his hand. After a few weeks of heavy drinking, he's not willing to drink much at all. Instead he's quiet, sipping and nibbling and only half trying to listen in on the Weyrwoman's conversation. Only half.

"I was _not_ seeing things!" Completely drenched Runner Avani mutters, mostly to herself, but at least partly to the pair beside her, but what she may have see is not openly expressed as she glances about the Tavern and takes one of the seats by the fire. "Either _something_ was there, or _someone_ was following us! One or the other, not neither." She shakes her head, her short black hair still stubbornly sticking to her skull. "So we need Klah and what else?" She eyes the hearth thoughtfully, "I think stew might be nice as well."

Awe-stricken could be the word to describe the tanner's countenance. Rezso follows the two young women, Norela and Avani, with as much grace as a confused herdbeast; he bumps into things, he stumbles, and he mumbles abashedly when he shoulders anyone. "I hope there's none about to hear your insults. Doubt they would find your plight as pity-worthy as you do," he says to Norela with only half his attention on the subject. He stands instead of sits, trying to see over the crowd, until he spots a familiar face among the horde of inebriated crafters. "Appears I'll be here for a bit longer than expected." And then he sits, combing anxious fingers through his sandy hair. "Klah. Stew. Both." Ugh.

"And bring on the shard-ing Cat!" The Harper's song ends in a loud roar, as his fellows raise their mugs, offering cheers and hollaring woots of various degrees, cheering again as a Tanner gets awkwardly to his feet, seemingly ready to set about singing his own song, at least after he gets something else to drink. "Another round!" He calls out enthusiastically to the barkeep, his hand waving to everyone. "For everyone!" Beldar snorts loudly, but shrugs, setting about filling up mug after mug, gaze sweeping over the counter for any others that need service. As Fros nears, Niva offers a chuckle and a nod to the wherhandler, while the other woman is waving off the introduction, slipping from her seat. "I'm just leaving.." She says quickly, departing with another nod and leaving Niva alone with with wherhandler, waving her to the empty seat. "Sounds as if you're just in time for yoru first ale of the day.." And sure enough, one of the servers is depositing the mugs here and there, sliding one to M'nol, another to

"Oh, enough with your… whatever it is." Norela says with a dismissive wave of her hand at Rezso as she tries to warm herself by the fire. Avani's continued ranting brings a rather concerned look to her face. "Look, it was probably just a shadow, and a flash of lightning or something. I'm sure being drenched like that has put you in a bit of a fragile state. We just need some klah, and some food, and…" She trails off as she hears someone declare 'another round' for 'everyone', which brings a smile to her face. She enthusiastically calls over the waitress. "We'll take 'em! Ale, lots of ale!"

Fros takes the empty seat, nodding to the other woman as she leaves. "That works, I suppose." she replies, shaking her head to the server who tries to hand her ale. "Klah for me- this's my mornin'. I jus' came down here coz this is where the activity was at." Grin. OVerhearing Avani's request for food, she nods after the waitress. "But some food might be nice!" To those around her- mostly Niva, but anyone else in hearing distance could work too- "How's the daylight hours been for you all?"

Avani glances up at the offered mugs and automatically takes it, though she looks down at the ale with a thoughtful expressing, nibbling her lower lip. She seems to catch herself after a moment though, and instead presses her lips together, offering the mug to one of the other two seated with her. "In that case, I don't think ale is the thing for me. Warm Klah, and a chance to get in a warm bed tonight should fix me up." Then again, her voice isn't filled with the greatest degree of confidence.

M'nol glances at the mug of ale as it's slid to him, then back at his milk, then at the ale. After a few moments of contemplation, he shrugs, then takes a sip. Not as good at Cen's tuber ale, but she hadn't been around in a while. After another survey of the crowded room he spots Fros miner's knot and makes his way in that direction. He smiles and nods, "Evening, WeyrWoman… others." Okay, so his depression had kept him out of the new arrival loop for a little while, "Mind if I join you."

"Banter," Rezso cheerfully supplies for Norela as the corners of his mouth slip upwards. Perhaps he's purposefully getting on her bad side, perhaps not. He's got a partial frown for Avani and her paranoia, a light curiosity for the still-new-to-him runner. "Probably just a shadow, like that one said. Nothing to worry about." And he doesn't disagree about the ale, thankfully accepting the mug and taking a frothy sip before supplying some insight on the subject. "Tonics are good if you're tired. It'll put you to sleep something sure. We've got a Master up Tanner's way with a sure hand for mixing the right toddies."

"Is that what you call it?" Norela replies to Rezso with a roll of her eyes. When the mug comes her way she greedily slurps down a few gulps before setting it down. "Ahhh. Now that's /just/ what I needed after all that business." She slides down in her seat, thoroughly relaxed. Her eyes glance sideways to Avani, smiling sympathetically. "If you say so. Ale might calm you down, though… but if you don't want yours, I'll take it." How kind.

"Drink up, my friends!" The Tanner yells over the crowd in the tavern, even as he's turning to his friends and there's the clink of mugs as they all tink together, and the loud singing begins again, albeit awkardly as multiple people are beginning different songs. Niva just shakes her head at the noise, chuckling at Fros with a lift of her mug. "Certainly the type of day that requires this." And with her own original drink gone, she's taking a long drink of the free round, sliding it back on the table before she motions for M'nol to take a seat, pushing it out with a foot as she leans back. "Ale'll warm you better than klah.. Wake you up too." She jokes to those in range.

Eledri eyes the harper, but accepts the mug of ale - hey it's apparently free - and downs the whole thing in a few gulps. Oh dear. Clunk. The now-empty mug is placed back on the table, rather more roughly than is perhaps neccessary. The computercrafter makes a lovely face, not much gratitude in his expression, though with Eledri, it's a rare warm day in Reaches before he generally looks too pleasant. The young man opens his mouth and a rather cranky-sounding, "Terrible," is the reply to Fros' general question, though when he sees who's sitting near her, Eled does at least straighten and try to look like he's not intending to drink himself into a stupor. There's a slower, but more civilized, "Landing's duties," to Niva over there and a brief tilt if his head. Right, getting sloshed in front of the weyrwoman would probably be a bad thing. Gotta look good for the craft or something. He does spy M'nol then, and Eledri's eyes suddenly narrow. /That guy/ he remembers.

Avani nods and hands the ale over even as she narrows her eyes at the tanner for a moment before rolling her mud-green eyes as she gets to her feet. "I need to keep my wits around me and be ready to leave again in the morning." She glances between the two again, "Stew for myself and the tanner, Klah for myself… Would you like anything to eat Norela?"

M'nol chuckles at Niva, then finishes off his bubbly before taking another sip of his ale as he glances around the new arrivals, "Uh… just be careful with that stuff… it can be dangerous." He glances up to see Eledri staring down at him… no, /glaring/ at him. He sort of remembers Eledri from the abortive flaming alcohol experiment and a few other things… He shrugs, not really considering the computer crafter to be a threat, instead glancing at Avani, "Are you responsible for this whole lot?" He grins a little, "Either way, I'm M'nol, brown Faraeth's rider."

"Yeah, that's what I call it." Surefire, straight on. Rezso isn't backing down on that one, eye roll or no eye roll. "I can't think why I haven't met you before. It surely can't be because of your sunny disposition." Which is accompanied by another of his humored smiles. But his attention switches to the tanner quick enough, his blue eyes widening a bit at the raucous behavior; maybe the apprentice even shrinks down into his seat, as if to hide from a certain pair of eyes. "Aye, that's good enough," he mumbles and looks up at Avani, oscillating back into the conversation.

Norela smiles gleefully as she now finds herself with an ale in each hand. She sets about draining the first one as rapidly as she can while maintaining polite conversation. "Hmm? Oh, stew sounds good. Anything warm in this weather, I think." She raises a mug toward M'nol when he approaches their group, lacking a free hand to salute with. "I'm Norela." She says, introducing herself before she resumes her glaring at Rezso. "I can be sunny when it suits me. Trudging through dung and enduring your commentary do not make me sunny. Ale makes me sunny." And so, more drinking.

Fros eyes the ale, shaking her head. "Yeah, warm me up an' make me slip onto one of them obsticals I gotta train Frosk on in the dark. Frosk'd think me funny drunk, though." When one of the waitresses brings her a mug of Klah, she nods gratefully and takes it, sipping. "This'll wake me up. Why's that?" The questions' directed at whoever shouted 'terrible' in response to her question.

Avani blinks at the question. "Which lot would that be, Faraeth's?" she offers respectfully as she awaits her day's companions' replies. "I'm Avani, Runner and daughter of Sea Foam Hold." She still has that certain tone of poorly veiled irritation as she adds that last bit to her introduction, but holds her hand with her usual tigh-lipped smilled. "Well met."

Another loud roar from the crafters, and there's a sudden crash as a starcrafter goes falling backwards out his chair, having tipped it too far. After a moment of silence, the group erupts in laughter and the man is helped back to his feet, another ale pushed into his hands as he settles. "You aren't planning on training in this, are you?" Niva asks Fros with a surprised look, even as she's sipping again at her own ale, though far more slowly than the others congregating nearby. Turning, she catches that look given by Eledri, and she looks surprised at the young brownrider. "What did you do to him?" Ale does wonderful things to relax you after a long day.

"M'nol." The tanner apprentice tries that on his tongue, like the ale he consumed seconds before. "Rezso, of the Tannercraft." To which the inebriated tanner, singing songs, is doing a poor disservice over there, but to say that out loud would be in bad taste. Rezso shrinks further in his seat, grimacing as the starcrafter falls down. "Life can't always be what you want it to be. Shouldn't go out in pretty dresses in bad weather. Brought it on yourself, really." Another twitch of his mouth, too.

In his current state, Eledri probably couldn't threaten a blind, hogtied wherry, let along a dragonrider. Still, he does continue to give M'nol that narrow-eyed look for a bit longer. "Just is," is called back to Fros, and Eledri makes something of a face, before he grabs his original glass of whatever and sips it a little more politely than he had the mug of ale. Either Eledri is very observant when getting drunk, or he's merely assuming what Niva's question at the brownrider must be, for the computercrafter calls back and almost sulky, "HE tried to blow me up! Threw a flaming drink at me." And then jabs a finger at the air to point at M'nol. Still, however much stock one puts in Eledri's accusation, the young man's words are rather slurred.

Norela eyes the fuller of the two mugs of ale she has in her hands, as if pondering pitching it in a certain tanner apprentice's face. She restrains the urge, and instead focuses on drinking the ale as quickly as possible. "You know…" She continues, between sips. "Some of us put in the effort to try to look nice. Especially when we don't know who we might be running into over the course of a day."

Fros shrugs, "S'just weather. For a little while, at least." she admits- not much turns Fros away. If she was going to say anything else, it's suddenly cut off by a look of shocked curiosity directed at Eledri. "Blow you up? With a flamin' drink? Sounds like one helluva drinkin' game."

The cry from the crafter's table seems to sound like, 'You probably deserved it!' but its muffled by yet another horrible song, and Niva just stares wide eyed at Eledri's explanation, slipping from her seat to move to the other side of the table, and away from M'nol - just in case. As the storm continues outside, lightning flashing, more and more people are slipping into the Taverns, retreating from the weather, and settling down with the friends that are already there. "You do never know.." Niva pipes up in Norela's defense, mug carried with her as she shifts that way, a little closer to the hearth.

M'nol motions to Norela and Rezso, "That lot." Then he chuckles, "You seem to be takin' care of 'em some. 'S a good thing t' do." Three sips of ale and already the accent is returning. Poor boy. "Good t' meetcha all, though." He takes another sip of his ale, then turns to answer Niva just before Eledri speak. The young space fills with a bright blush, "It was just the once! And it was an accident… though your sister seemed to think it was funny."

Avani tilts her head slightly at most recent roll of thunder and it's paired flash of lightning. "Then again, this sort of weather does disuade visitors, doesn't it?" she offers one more tight-lipped smile at M'nol's reply before offering him a graceful nod and turning to fetch stew and Klah.

Rezso snorts into his now half-full mug of ale. "What, you think you'll bump into a Lord?" Another snort follows that statement. "Should dress for practicality. It's going to rain? Wear a hat, some boots, and a coat. It's sunny? Don't wear snow boots." He drains the rest of his mug, sets it on the ground, and smoothes his hands down the front of his shirt. "Can't say I pity you much. If you wanted to sit inside and look pretty, you should have picked something like laundry work or nannying."

The crafter's table gets a suspiciously sulky look from Eledri. "I'm sure my /sister/ put him up to it," the youngman states, lowering his hand back to his drink, with a curl of his upper lip, expression nowhere near pleasant, but when is it ever? Fros gets blinked at for a while, "Drinking game..?" Either this has the computercrafter baffled, or he's actually considering the possibility. M'nol gets another /look/, though this time not quite as narrow-eyed, "I'll just /bet/ she did." And then he does scowl, "How do you 'accidentally' throw a drink at someone? When it's on /fire/?" That question apparently makes sense to Eledri, though he pauses momentarily to give the door a frown. Rain and computercrafters don't really mix, though the glance he gives the crowd in here is hardly friendly, either.

Norela finally downs the last of the ale in her first mug, setting it down and getting to work on draining the second one. Her arguing with the tanner continues, making her mood grow ever fouler. "I didn't realize it was going to rain. I'm not some sort of… weather-predicting person. Besides, looking good is an important part of the trader lifestyle. I don't expect someone like you to understand."

"Why? You saying I'm not dressed nice? All of this is either tanner or weaver made. Might not wash it every day or trade up often, but it's a fine fit. And practical. Good for all types of weather. Plan for the unexpected, so no one has to hear you whine." Rezso gives a succinct nod and steals a glance towards the table of crafters. Nothing really new there. "Be back, got to get another mug," he mumbles, before pushing himself up from his seat and trudging towards the bar.

M'nol takes another sip of his ale, inching away from Eled some, "I swear, Cen or that blue rider knocked me over and my hand caught the glass!" His face, normally the picture of innocence, is now the picture of… belligerence? terror? stubbornness, for sure. "Sides, what're you gonna do 'bout it now? 'Sbeen a turn or more since I even saw ya."

There's another roar from the crafter's table, though this one seems to take on a more angry tone, and the Tanner that had once again climbed to the top of the table is pulled down by one of his fellows, an angry 'Hey!' rippling through the crowd, the cheering seeming to take on another tone all together, though with the number of people gathered there, the reason is difficult to make out. Niva continues to work her way around the tavern, avoiding issues, only to have an issue find her, as one of the crafters cuts infront of Rezso on his way to get a drink, and then stumbles into the Weyrwoman, slurring an apology as he moves on. Niva slips into a chair near the hearth, her empty mug slipped onto the table next to her as she stares in surprise, trying to regain her composure. "Shards.." She says, entirely unladylike.

Avani returns to the fire, carefully balancing three bowls of stew on a tray and a full mug of Klah in her other hand. She glances around, only spotting Norela there, she frowns and looks around, still balancing her loads. "Where did that tanner go?" she asks, not quite sure if she was ever properly introduced to the fellow.

Norela has all sorts of witty retorts ready for Rezso, but then the tanner has to go and leave before she can get any of them out. The trader simply scowls, chugs the remainder of her ale, and gets to her feet. She gives Avani a slightly tired smile. "He has been nice enough to spare us his presence for right now. I think I'm going to go have a bath. A long one. Thanks for helping me with those deliveries earlier… and come by my caravan sometime. I owe you one." With that, the tipsy trader makes her way back into the rain she spent so much time fleeing from earlier.

Fros finishes her klah, and gets slowly to her feet, looking out the door. "Well, better go off before the weather gets too bad. Get Frosk at least a little used to storms." She gives the assembled a nod, and heads out back into the storm.

As a man come filtering into the Tavern from the storm raging outdoors, and he's making his way to the fire, pausing near Avani as he spots the tray of three bowls, "Thanks, miss.." The rough-looking man offers, the appropriate mark piece flipped onto the tray as he takes off with a bowl, retreating to whatever corner of the cavern he can find without another word. The crafters, however, certainly make up for the man's silence, as the crowd begins to shift and move, forming an awkward ring as two men begin to circle each other, loud insults being launched, barely noticable over the rowdy cheers. Niva remains in the chair near the fire which she retreated to, looking rather worriedly towards the group, particular as Beldar continues to do his thing - serve alcohol - without any real notice of what else is happening.

Avani blinks and watches Norela go. Finally she sends a glare to the plater of balancing stew and shakes her head, about to offer M'nol one of the bowls when a man comes and _pays_ for one. She blinks again, her eyes widening for a moment before she shrugs and turns to M'nol, "I don't suppose you would care for some stew?"

"I'm /sure/ that's what happened," Eledri mutters crankily while glancing back at M'nol. Eledri. Has doubt. There's a quiet snort, though, as he narrows his eyes again, but all Eledri has to say about what is going to do is an almost sulky, "Stay far away from /you/." Oh so mature there, he is. The disruption by the tanner's table has Eled curling his fingers more tightly around his glass and eyeing the lot of them warily. He might spot the weyrwoman, but Eledri's more concerned with anyone else nearby, and retreats further back in his chair, adjusting his spectacles a bit and frowning to himself.

Squawking, nearly drowned out by the sound of the storm raging outside, precedes a soaked young woman into the tavern. Jessamin's face bears an expression of mixed amusement and disgust, upper lip curled slightly as she plucks at the snowy cotton shirt and crimson linen skirt clinging to her lithe form. A gold flit clings to her left shoulder possessively, eyeing any who approach -her- human warily, while the slightly smaller brown holds fast to her right shoulder in a more friendly-seeming, open stance. She whistles a soothing little tune to the flizzen using her as their perch, reaching up to scritch each in turn. "I know, right? Figures we'd wind up in the middle of a storm, hmm?"

Avani puts down the plater, taking up the mark someone tosses there and picking up one of the bowls as well even as she takes a long drink of her Klah. Then the young Runner sits near the fire and enjoys her meal. Once she's a little drier and fuller, she heads into the storm, seeking perhaps the hot springs or some other way to warm herself and find a place to rest.

M'nol giggles a little, taking another sip and entering the realms of tipsy at half a pint, and waggles a finger at Eledri, "You doan have to worry about that, Eled. I don' usually make an effor' t' find you." Then his face brightens at a flash of gold and then his own bronze appears with a greeting chirp for Empress while Morl wave, "hey, Jessa. Good t' see ya!"

That trip took a long time to accomplish, but Rezso looks a mite happier when he sidesteps his way back to the hearth, a newly acquired mug of ale in one hand. He finds another empty seat near his old one, upon realizing that one occupied, and kicks out his feet as he tastes of his frosty beverage. Blue eyes search around, looking for familiar faces among the many assembled. Few are found, but for now, he'll ruminate by the fire, warm on the outside and slowly warming up on the inside.

The crafters seem to have other ideas, though, for as the Tanner and the Starcrafter begin to yell louder, the circle expands, pushing up against Eledri's table, one of the inebriated men reaching for Eledri's arm to try and pull him into the circle even as the first punch is thrown, and a loud cheer goes up as the tanner ducks out of the way. One of the boys, probably too young to be allowed to hang around the tavern, comes skidding to a stop near the group, jumping a little, excited. "You have to watch, he has it coming!" And with an eager squeal, he's turning back, trying to clammor ontop of a table to get a better view, bumping into anyone who happens to get in his way. Niva, against her better judgement, is on her feet then, beginning to circle around the outer edge, lifting her voice in a failed attempt at being heard.

Jessamin looks a little taken aback as a bronze flit wings his way on over, but upon closer inspection, she realizes whose it is. A quick glance around the tavernas well as the cheery, if tipsy greetingsoon pinpoints the winged stomach's human perch. "M'nol, good to see you too!" Her normally brightly colored aqua and purple knot has taken on a deeper hue, soaked by the rain. She does not come any closer as of yet, remaining by the entrance until she drips a wee bit less. "How are you?'

Storms outside mean extra work calming the runners (the horsy kind) down in the stables. She thought it might be just a brief downpour, but it's proven to last a lot longer than anticipated. So, it's a soaking wet Aludra who makes as dignified an entrance as she can, holding a piece of waterproof canvas over her head, and a saddle blanket around her shoulders. She stands in the entrance, dripping, trying to sluice off some of the water before entering the tavern itself. There's another woman in the same entrance, which makes it a little crowded, but Aludra divests herself of canvas and blanket, sidling around the woman to head immediately for the fireplace. Ah, warmth. Only then will she pause long enough to look around.

Eledri might have had some retort or.. something in response to M'nol, but the computercrafter is quickly finding his arm grabbed, and in his startled attempt to pull away, his own drink goes flying. With a sulky, half-drunken sort of growl, the young man pulls off his spectacles, tucks them in a pocket, all in one movement. And then tries to punch the guy that grabbed him, and if words are yelled, they're more then drowned out by the storm and whatever other noise is being made in the tavern. Oh hey, turns out the geeky guy can /fight/. Too bad his punches aren't as well-aimed as his words were.

Duck and pretend, just duck and pretend, Rez! Though another member of his craft may be waging war, this tanner isn't interested in the on goings; likely, shame for his Hall. He goes back to shrinking in his seat, ignoring the swell of voices goading on the fighters. It's easier to do whenever there's someone to talk to, and someone just happens to saunter up to the fireplace. "Bad out there, huh?" he asks Aludra, taking in her appearance and her sidle right up to the warmth the fireplace offers.

M'nol scooches away from the growing circle of the fight and towards Jessa, "I'm… a little drunk… I…" He blinks a few times, "I thought Eled was pickin' a fight with me… then those two started fightin'…" He looks a little confused now, but shrugs it off.

Jessamin lofts her eyebrows as Aludra just goes right past her, but shrugs. After all, who could blame the woman for seeking warmth? Her brows don't seem bent on a downwards journey, either, remaining raised on high as she takes in M'nol's tipsy state. "Well, at least you're in one piece. Never thought I'd see you drunk." A wary eye is kept on the fight, with her two flits stomping about in agitation upon her shoulders, eyes whirling orange as they squawk and ruffle their wings. "Uh-oh…"

The man is caught offguard by the sudden retaliation of the computer crafter he'd attempted to drag into the show, eyes widening a bit as a punch half-connects with his chin. "Why ya lil'.." And the smith, unfortunatley, is quite a bit larger, a few punches of his own thrown in retaliation, with no real care for where he's aiming. While the starcrafter and the Tanner are good and engage, the other crafters are beginning to lose interest, and yell amongst each other, a few more punches being thrown, and bodies being pushed, the fight beginning to escalate and expand outwards to the other, in some cases unsuspecting, patrons of the tavern. Niva, unfortunatley, has put herself in a less than optimum situation, as she's caught up when another patron is pushed, and she's trying to duck out of the way, another yell going unheaded even as a knot of men goes tumbling towards the door, shoving as they go.

"Terrible," Aludra replies, glancing over at the young man. "Cold as ice and coming down in buckets, as you can probably tell from my immitation of a drowned wherry." She chuckles, looking ruefully down at the puddle she's making on the floor - only to be distracted by the fighting. Her forehead creases into a frown as she sees a man pulled up from his chair into the circle. Punches follow, and she covers her mouth with one hand. "Oh, dear!" Yes, she says 'oh, dear!' - which may be somewhat of an understated reaction. But, she's not giving up her warm position by the fire for anything, not even a fight. "Oh, no, that's the Weyrwoman!" is her next cry, upon seeing Niva caught up in the crowd. "Someone help the Weyrwoman," is called out, but probably goes unheard.

Eledri gets a rather nasty whack to the face, momentarily stunned - that's definitely going to bruise - and then a good one in the stomach, which is unfortunate, seeing as said stomach is partially full of food, and quite a bit more full of booze. As the computercrafter doubles over, his arms and legs do a bit of flailing, before he rather unspectacularly loses his lunch on the floor, heedless of anyone's feet. Oh this day is just getting better and better. Weyrwoman? Elebri blinks, one eye squinting; a darkening patch is already visible on his face. He heard Aludra's words, but that only distracts him long enough to get whapped again, though this time in the shoulder. The young man snarls and tries to bowl over whoever that was, though even being a former orchardworker makes him only marginally more muscular than the average techie. Eled, alas, has gone soft, but at least he's making progress toward the door? Or is he?

"Shards. Thought it looked choppy earlier." Rezso sucks in a breath and takes a sip from his ale, his forehead furrowing deeply. "Luckily got in before it started coming down. I can't say it's any better in here." Not that she can't see that for herself. A knot of drunken men, flying fists, spit, and blood. Not the picture most crafthalls want the public to see. "Aw, by the.." He stands up, trying to get a better vantage point, as the fighting gets worse and expands. "I doubt they'd do anything to the Weyrwoman." But even as he says the words, his brow knits again and his lips start to thin. This could get bad, real bad.

M'nol nods to Jessa, his mouth open to speak when Niva calls out, as quietly as it is beneath the din and he acts, perhaps a tad brashly, but Faranth, that's his Weyrwoman! He nearly dives from his chair, trying to put himself between whoever is the nearest threat and Niva, "Hey! Cut it!"

Jessamin swears softly, shaking her head and following M'nol into the fray. That might be M'nol's Weyrwoman, but both are -her- friends! Slighter in frame though she might be, compared to some in the fight, little is as vicious as a woman in the midst of a crowd at a trader's booth that all seem to want the same thing!

Oddly enough, Aludra is about to shove her own way into the fray, hoping to help the Weyrwoman. She starts forward, then steps back as a burly crafter gives another man a punch. The false start sets her directly into the path of the surging crowd, which makes her stumble sideways. She doesn't want to head in that direction. That's toward the door, and she does NOT want to go back outside. Fortunately, she's able to extract herself without falling, and quickly steps away from the fighters and back to the fireplace. "I couldn't reach her," she tells the man in the chair. "Not without getting crushed."

A duck and Niva's out from under one arm, and onto a chair, only to get toppled over in Eledri's mad dash for the door. At least no one seems to be chasing the Techcrafter for the moment, and aside from a tumble, the Weyrwoman is mostly untouched. The various cries from those uninvolved do, however, draw Beldar out of the back room, the bartender quickly taking note of what's happening to -his- precious tavern. "Hey, ya sorry lot!" And the man's deep voice seems to carry much easier over the din than the Weyrwoman's, and with muscle to back it up, people are beginning to be pushed out of the tavern and into the storm - whether its their initial direction or not. "If'n ya aren't fighting, stay out of it, or I'll pitch ya out to!" The man seems to roar even as a chair goes flying, and some of the burly - and surprisingly sober - riders are wading in to try and sort things out, one reaching for Jessamin's arm, another for M'nol to try and extract them despite their fighting.

Eledri sees escape - and takes it! And he'll just have to /hope/ Niva doesn't remember who made that mad dash that toppled her over. Whoops! Eledri most certainly won't - if he even noticed, with the way he's running. He's either to drunk or too beat up to care, but he's definitely got to be feeling those punches. And out the door the computercrafter goes, heedless of the storm, at least, and likely swearing up and down all the way back to Landing.

Jessamin is, thankfully, pulled free of the fighting with only a few minor bruises to show for it—though her eyes sparkle dangerously, and her two flizzen take to the wing above the heads of the riotous crowd. Her struggle to reach M'nol and the Weyrwoman, though, does not cease, and she pulls against the hold of the rider tugging on her arm. "Come on, that's my friend and the Weyrwoman in there!"

Rezso is no hero - it's a fact he's well aware of. Part doubt, part shame, and part level-headedness keep him rooted to the spot. He watches everyone's frantic attempts that in turn, fail one by one, as he sips slowly from his mug. Yep, he's content where he is. "Don't worry about it. Looks like the Weyrwoman's fine and everything's settling. That's an awfully big thing to take on for such a little girl. They would have knocked you sideways and back." Shaking his head, he picks up a seemingly untouched mug of ale and hands it Aludra. "Try this. It'll calm your nerves for sure."

Aludra has made it back to the hearth, none the worse for wear. She's still wet, and her boots squish with every step. "Good," she says, planting herself firmly with her back toward the fire. The ale is accepted, but not immediately sampled. "This was the closest place that had light, but I didn't expect to run into a fight," she remarks, then taking a sip. "Not bad, but, then, I've never had a bad drink in here." She considers what the guy said, then frowns. "I'm not so little," she tells him. "I'm big enough to wrestle with runners every day, so don't be counting me out just yet." She's not angry, but there's a firmness in her tone which should indicate she's not joking.

M'nol is pulled free as well and he comes up spluttering, "But. but the weyrwoman! She's…" He trails off, noticing that Niva seems to have managed to land unharmed. Only then does he realize that Jessa had also involved herself in the fray, barely noting Eledri's departure or the kindness of other on-lookers he looks to Jessa while Bloodstone chirps nervously, "You okay, Jessa? What were you thinking?"

In a matter of a few moments, the fight is broken up, but not before one man throws a balled up napkin in M'nol's direction as the brownrider is removed from his attempts to join the fray, yelling something about a duel at dawn, and then he's unceremoniously expelled until the wet night. "Don't none of ya be showing yer face in my tavern again!" Beldar is yelling at the crafters, a bruised and bloodied lot that they are as they seem to wander aimlessly through the rain to try and find where they're suppose to be. Niva has, for the most part, come out okay it seems, though the older woman takes a moment to pick herself up off the floor, looking rather grumpy as she does so, brushing dust off her clothes, the glare on her face anything but inviting, particularly giving the pink area that blemishes one cheekbone.

"Not counting you out, but I've never seen a runner as wily as a drunk, cantankerous old crafter. Different kinds of struggle you're dealing with. Never know when someone's carrying a knife either," Rezso mutters into his mug. "Damned shame, that fight. I hope Andarat has a good excuse." And with that ambiguous statement, the tanner slumps forward, staring into the fire, with a small smile curving his wide mouth. "Better's the introduction. Name's Rezso and they call me Rez for short. Sorry for being so late with it. Tanner apprentice." He holds out his unoccupied hand.

Aludra turns toward his chair, letting her side face the fire. "I could've held my own," she says with a defiant lift of her chin. "And I could've helped the weyrwoman if I could've gotten to her. Drunks aren't nearly as cantankerous as a stallion around a mare in season, trust me. And a stallion weighs a lot more than a crafter." But it's not said in anger, just in an informative tone. "You get seven or eight hundred pounds going in one direction, it's not easy to stop." The more she talks, the more that Keroonian accent comes out. "I'm Aludra," she tells him after he introduces himself. "I'm not crafted, but I work with runners. Obviously."

Jessamin grumbles as she's pulled away from the fight, trying to shake off the rider hauling her away. "Alright, alright. Shards, I've got few enough friends without seeing the ones I do have getting themselves all bruised and bloodied or worse." Once she sees Niva and M'nol safe enough, she does back off on her own, touching a good bruise on the left side of her lower jaw and flinching. "Just my pride. I wasn't going to just stand by and do nothing while you charged in there. Told you when we both Stood, you're as close to a little brother as I've got now."

"Alright." Rezso puts up his hands. "Alright." But there's no hostility, just a twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. "I get it. I'll never make that assumption again." He does take note of the accent, and slants his head as he listens. "Where're you from? Someplace around here? Or farther North?"

Beldar finishes gathering up the rest of the troublesome crafters, before the bartender turns his attention to the mess that was left behind - broken chairs, smashed glasses, Eledri's personal signature, a soft sigh before he begins to pick up the pieces. Niva's gaze narrowed, she looks over the mess once more herself, before she's stalking by those still lingering. "If you'll excuse me.." She's partically snarling as she heads out into the storm, heedless of the rain - and from the path she sets towards the Hatching Arena, the crafters are lucky they did not have a gold dragon trying to get in the Tavern as well.

"I'm from Keroon originally," Aludra replies, taking another sip of the ale she holds. "I was Searched, didn't Impress, and decided to stay." The explanation is getting briefer each time she says it. "You?" is countered, as she takes in his leather clothing. "That's right, you said you were with the Tannercraft. Not bad work. I miss some of my clothes I couldn't bring with me, especially a leather riding skirt and vest. I really liked them, but they were custom made for me." She sips ale, relaxing in front of the fire and slowly drying off.

M'nol moves over to Jessa as soon as he's released, quickly checking her bruise to make sure she's okay, "I may be like a little brother, but I'm twice as strong as you. That was sharding dangerous… you could have been seriously hurt." Then a wadded up napkin strikes him squarely in the face and he blinks twice, slowly, "Duel? what? I mean?" He turns to Jessa, "What just happened?"

Jessamin says "It's a risk I was willing to take. You don't mess with my family." Ouch. The look on her face should wither all but the most stout of heart, the two flits who came in with her now hissing as they backwing to land on her shoulders once again. "Not sure what just happened, but maybe we should get clear of the tavern."

"Keroon." There's a small pause as he mulls it over. "That's a different way of coming. Didn't miss your home too much? Can't blame you though. I'd pick the Hall over Lemos anytime. I'm from there, Lemos." Rezso relaxes backwards, comfortable talking about home now. "It's a nice place. It's home. But it's got nothing on the workings of Tanner Hall, you know? Guess it's the same way here. Sure has a lot going on." Sliding her a smirk, he shrugs up one shoulder. "You could always get another skirt or vest commissioned. I don't do it myself, but I've a friend who's real good with leather stitching."

"I might," is the noncommittal answer. "I have to be careful of my marks," Aludra explains. "My family want me home, so I don't get much support from them." She shrugs, drinks then adds, "I like it here, so I'm staying. I'm learning a trade, if not a craft, so I'll be able to support myself." Another sip and the mug is almost emptied. "I'm learning to make dragon straps. I already know how to make runner bridles and straps, but a bronzerider from Ierne is teaching me how to make dragon straps." There's an air of satisfacton about her. "Well, I really thank you for the conversation, but I should be trying to get back to my room. Then it'll be a hot bath and bed. Morning comes early at the stables." She peers toward the door, trying to see how hard the rain's falling.

Rezso isn't going anywhere for a while, and so he's the one to give a slow, farewell wave of one hand in her direction. "Nice meeting you, Aludra, and good luck with the runners. If you change your mind about the commissions or you're ever at the Hall, let me know. Otherwise, well met and long life." And he ends that with a wink, taking a hearty sip of his ale.

M'nol blinks a few more times, finishes his now warm milk in one long draught, then follows Jessa out into the night with only a brief wave to the people he barely knows.

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