You ATE my Peace Offering!

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.

It's evening at the Wanderin' Wherry. Right on supper time, so getting a seat can be difficult. All sorts of people, from couples to the elderly getting either a bit to drink or a bite to eat. Serving girls are mainly taking care of the tables, but behind the bar is Catallian. And there are a few empty seats there. He seems pretty busy though, but is managing it well enough.

Today finds Kera trying to avoid slushy puddles as she makes her way towards the pub. Entering with a little breeze right on her heels, the apprentice quickly shuts the door before it can get much breezier. With her purpose firmly in mind, she spends a few seconds blinking into the sudden change of lighting. A quick scan is given around the room before her steps go towards one of the empty seats at the bar.

Lan… Lan's already there man. This is the evening crowd! They're the best crowd of them all, at least if you spend all your time in the taverns, which, the Wingleader often does, to be honest. There are a lot of reasons why, nine that he can count off the top of his fingers, add in a few dozen more that he will never talk about, with the outcome being the same - a pint will wash it down! Lan is at the bar, empties to his right, empties to his left, but at least one chair vacant from a recent bar buddy who was scooped away on some duty or another. One of those old uncle riders or something, that gabs too much and remembers he's still got something left to do! Ahh well! Lan pushes his empty stien forward and nods to Catallian, hoping that alone will call his attention to bait another mug full and if not, the glass will be pushed a little closer to the edge than normal. By the looks of it, he's been here for at least three or four rounds.

Oh tavern, how long has it been since Ka'el has graced your doors? Longer than the weyrling would've liked, truth be told. Not that he hasn't had a nip of ale here and there between his last time and now, but it's the atmosphere that he misses. The idle conversation beneath low lighting. The clinking of bottels and smell of food that back for background music. The occasional entertainment of drunken brawls. Ah yes, he's glad for supper time where he can momentarily put aside the designs of new formations and flight patterns and other dragon-worthy things that have been stuffed in his head, and as he enters now, bundled against the cold, he appears content. Finally. Unraveling a scarf, he makes his way between bodies, murmuring 'excuse mes' as he makes his way to a tab- .. Nope. Taken table. Well, to that table over th-…with old folk? No thanks! Well, to the bar it is, which is just as good, and he slides a bare palm against the countertop as he leans against it, eyeing the drinks beyond. And a familiar face to the side. "I know you," is greeted with a smirk to Kera before another familiar face near is noted not far off. "Evenin' Ers'lan."

Catallian can't immediatly come to Ers'lan's aid, because a grumpy old man with a beard and a seacraft knot is ahead of him. After a moment of conversation though, Catallian brings Ers'lan his refill; sizing the other up for a moment or two. "Sure you don't want me to bring you something stronger? Listen, we just introduced this new vintage. Bone beer, we call it. It's good. Very good. You should try it." He refills for him though, and moves on to Ka'ael. "What'll it be?" He indicates Kera with a point of his finger as well. She's too far away to talk, but he can show he's seen her.

Kera props her feet up on the rail and lets her coat fall open, she leaves it on for now, letting herself get warm before taking it off. Seeing the Weyrling right near her, she gives the young man a bit of a stiff nod and smile. Just as well Ka'el is here, might as well go ahead and add him to her little list. "G'day Weyrling Ka'el." Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a small notebook and pen and starts to scribble. Anyone looking very closeby could see her write out Ka'el's name to the end of a little list of other names. Kera nods with a grin to the bartender as he notices her, and continues her perusal of the rowdy room. Ers'lan is seen and she wiggles her fingers by way of a wave. Once her scan of the room is done, she turns back towards the bar and is scribbling again in her little notepad as she waits.

Ers'lan has this bushman look to him, longer hair that actually hangs down around his shoulders, with curly waves that make it look stringy, while his beard has grown thick in and full. At least today, he doesn't smell of wood smoke, but he's certainly taken on a more rougher appearance, beat down jacket and trousers, nothing fancy about it. Real working clothes, as he might say. The man squints his eyes over at the greeting he gets, as if he's trying to see through the fog of booze, but he's not even close to being drunk yet, so everyone's good on that scale. Instead, he 'ahs' with a grin, a hand comes across and claps Ka'el on the shoulder, if the lad doesn't break under his grip or back away from it, he'll get a good hearty squeeze on his shoulder, "Ahoy lad," he jostles him a big, "Yer gettin big." Oh that's probably some dragon interference in there, remarking on the dragons or something. Either way, the personal space is given back over to the weyrling as Lan's hand falls away, crooking his lips toward the bartender, "Bone beer…" that certainly has a different ring to it, "Tis narh actually bones, yah? I've enough dead fella's on me mind to be drinking anymore down me gullet." As for the seacrafter over yonder, he'll tip his at to the man, if he actually had a hat to tip, so he just ends up giving him a two fingered salute, cause you know, seacrafters stick together in the long run. Something like that. Oh, sudden movement! A finger waggle. Those weren't man hands! Lan follows the motion and spots Kera, "Behold, tis she!" Smirk, back to his drink, since it's refilled.

Go ahead. Try not looking when someone whips out a notebook and starts writing right in front of you. It's human nature! .. to be nosey. Or at least, it's in Ka'el's nature to glance at that notebook that has been retrieved by the girl. If what she wrote wasn't so brief, he likely would not've gotten the whole thing. But, well … four letters are four letters. Plus an added bit of punctuation between. "I know I've told you before, or at least I think I have. But if I haven't, here it is for the first time: it's just Ka'el," he insists with a vague smirk, eyes on her now and not her writing pad. "I've a surname too. A proud fact: Not everyone has one. You want to write that down too, so you won't forget?" Or is that a hit list she's making? Before he can ask much more, he finds that his shoulder is claimed by the heavy hand of a shaggy Ers'lan, who quickly regains his attention. Oh, he notes his appearance, a far different one than when he last saw him, and he gives the wingleader a once over before a grin returns to his face. "Big with brawn and muscle? Yeah.. I know." Jokes come easy, and afterward his eyes slide to Cantillan. "Ale, if it hasn't all been drank."

Kera peers up from her pad, and gives a curious look to Ka'el, nodding "I remember.." She lowers her head back to her list " time." A hint of a chuckle is given til a familar voice cause the aprentice to peer around to Ers'lan. "Hmm?" She glances to either side of her as if that will tell her who he's refering to. Right about then, a waitress appears across the bar from her and with a smile she quickly gives her order as she read it from her list. "I need four. No, I mean five orders of Benden's special Baklava to go please. And I'll have some hot tea while I'm here." Kera smiles as the waitress moves off to deal with her order before peering over to the riders. "So, a long night of drinking ahead is it?"

Ers'lan has the gumption to walk his eyes over Ka'el as if he were inspecting him for some dereliction of duty, lips smacking before he nods, "Aye, ye chest is beginning to thicken. Might be able ta carry a lass or two over ye shoulder soon iffin ya keep at it." There's humour in response to Ka'el's joke, fingers pitched up over his own glass rim, wondering over the conversation beside him between Kera and Ka'el, but all for the best he doesn't take in on that one. Lan straightens out his back, turning to twist toward his new bar buddies, cause that's what they are, free entertainment for him, "Aye aye, reckon ye gots that right thar Kera, long nights ahead." And he gives his chin a scrub, looking over his shoulder as another rider comes by and claps -him- on the shoulder, to which he joins in the raucous greeting, standing up and giving the man a good solid handshake that leads into a few proud boasts of this out post and that one, or some beast or another that ended up as a trophy on one of their walls. Either way, a laugh shared, but then the first fella is pointing to a lady he's bringing along and excuses himself and his lady to a table, leaving Lan to plop back into his stool, back to the edge of the bar, and eyes shifting, rounding back on the younger pair next to him. "Aye so, what's that ye ordered thar Kera? Bakla…. something?" He sticks to his regular food dishes, as it is.

The tavern has it's evening crowd fillings its chairs, from one end to the other, tables seem occupied, bar stools few to be found, waitresses busy, laughter heard and booze flowing. It's a good atmosphere so far, no sparks yet igniting anything more than the odd raised voice and sudden gales of laughter which tend to follow such points of humiliation or upsets. Kera, Ka'el, and Ers'lan are at the bar, Catallian behind manning it and keeping up to the high demands that keep piling up. A typical night, for those who look to be in such exhilarating crowds.

Bowyn slips into the pub with a piece of jerky hanging from her mouth and a rolled up pelt of some kind tucked under her arm. Wiping a patch of dirt from her face, she glances around the room in search of someone in particular, ripping the jerky from her teeth and scooting close to the spot that Kera and her rider friends are sitting at to keep out of the way of people trying to enter the establishment behind her. She takes a seat close to Ers'lan after being gently pushed by someone trying to get to a table next to her, and absently says, "Baklava" when he asks what the woman had ordered. Upon realizing that she had technically interrupted, she glances over in his direction and manages a "Sorry…" which she extends to Kera as well. Then she fixes her green eyes on the door.

"You remember. Good. Then no more 'Weyrling' Ka'el." The topic is dropped for bigger and better things: Ale! Or, more specifically, the ordering thereof. So many delicious choices, which will he have? He has the time to consider. The 'tender isn't going any further than the length that the bar allows him to, and thus Ka'el turns to Ers'lan again. Does he note that he's being looked over? Well he's hardly blind, and the Wingleader's final report elicits a crooked smirk and a vague lifting of his jaw. "Only two? I'll need to work more then. I was hopin' for at least three." He swivels in his seat, which he has only now taken, ready to place his drink once the bearded man becomes preoccupied, but the words get caught somewhere in his throat as his eyes seem to drift and stare off past the barkeep. "Wait.. what?" He blinks out of his momentary stupor, giving his head a brief shake. "Kanekith.." he mutters exasperatedly, rising from his seat. "Good to see you all. Maybe I'll actually get a taste next time!" He flashes a grin, extending it to Bowyn as well. Ah good. A body to take his place. And with little fanfare (but a bit of hustling) the weyrling slips out.

Kera chuckles with an amused shake of her head as she listen and watches the banter and interactions between the riders. Peering to Ka'el, the apprentice simply nods agreeably, seeming trying not to do anything to irritate the young rider like she has his fellow weyrlings. Lan's question draws her attention and she starts to clarify, when a new voice does it for her. Peering around the scruffy looking rider, to spot rather interesting glooking girl. Seeing a short, lanky girl with dirty smudges on her cheek, Kera smiles and gives the girl a wave "Hi there." The waitress slides a cup of tea in front of Kera and speaks a few words concerning her order before slipping off to tend other customers. Looking back "There ya go Lan, Baklava. A little peace offering I guess ya could call it."

"Bak…la-what?" The Wingleader repeats, giving Bowyn a sudden look, though it's not unusual for someone to enter in a conversation at the bar, in fact, it's quite normal, "Aye aye, call it whar ye want it to be, but what is it? Be it thar be always room to be tasting new foods," because clearly, if he's reached thirty, he should at least know what Baklava was! It must be new. As for Ka'el, Lan gives the lad a good nod, "Reckon ya can try, but I be a hard act to follow." Something like that. The infamous will never reveal their secrets. Yet, in the moments following, as Lan realizes it, from the Baklava conversation and the next, the world has spun by faster than he thought, because Ka'el is gone. He blinks as the occupied seat sits vacant yet again. Oh. Hrm. Was it him? He gives himself a sniff, as if to make sure he didn't smell like something out of the gutters, but nope, he's safe. Dragon problems. A shrug seems to be followed by a gaping mouth, as whatever he was about to say is silenced by the appearance of this strange thing called Baklava. Mouth closes, his eyes go to it, then up to Kera, then suspiciously over to Bowyn, then back again, "Peace offerin? Fer what?" Was he at war and didn't know it? He's always at war when women are about. Fingers pull the Baklava closer, inching it as mug gets put aside for this closer inspection that eventually leads the man to taking a bite out of it. Nom.

Bowyn looks back at Ers'lan from the corner of her eye and smirks. "Baklava! It's a…well it's a pastry covered in something sweet and it's got some kinda nut on the bottom." Right as she finishes, the plate is before him and the man is biting into it. She turns her attention to Kera, flashing a little smile and waving back, nearly dropping the pelt under her arm. "Hullo!" She says, teasing, "Why are you wasting perfectly good baklava on someone who doesn't even know what it is?" And as the rider takes a bite, she leans forward, eagerly awaiting his reaction. "Well? How d'you like it?"

Kera would nod agreeably with the person she hasn't met yet, but the apprentice is shocked into a brief silence when Lan grabs up one of the to go orders and starts chomping. She just stares at him with wide eyes a few seconds before shaking her head. "Well, that's one less peace offering to the Weyrlings." A hint of a frown is given while she takes up her tea and sips the hot brew cautiously. Not bothering taking the time to enjoy it, she turns her attention back to Lan and short girl. "This seat is open now that the Weyrling was called away.I'm Kera by the way." This to Bowyn of coarse, but to Lan she sighs and shrugs "I haven't had much luck getting on with people since I got here, so I thought maybe a sweet peace offering might help soothe any frayed nerves."

HEY! Lan totally heard that! Trying to respond to Bowyn between savouring bites of baklava, tone a playful proud sound, "Reckon because I be a perfectly good man!" Yes, something like that, "N me tastebuds should be respected, reckon so." Nom nom. The bushman looking Wingleader with the seacrafter accent finishes the pastry piece in a couple of bites, letting his lips smack together and his tongue roll about the pieces that nearly escaped his lips because of his talkin in between. Woah, wait… It wasn't for him? His eyes look at Kera with a bit of a shock registering, before he covers it with a wide smirk, answering Bowyn, "Tis sweet." So much for Kera's full peace offering, as the one syrupy gooey square goes down into his belly, "reckon tis good though. Gooey 'n sweet, 'n with a little crunch…good fer a peace offering, reckon so." his eyes wander toward the remaining baklava's on Kera's plate, brow heightening on his forehead, contemplating. Should he snag another one? He thought, she was sharing. Maybe he hasn't clued in after all, as he asks, "Ye didn't get on me nerves, but it was nice of ye… that…Bakl…" and he trails it out, filling his gap with another gulp of beer. Too much of a good thing will make the beer sour, so Kera's remaining peace offerings are safe! So far.

Bowyn chuckles at the rider's simple description of "sweet." "Oh, you don't say! And you say you're a perfectly good man? Not sure I believe you. What do you think, is he a good man?" Her question was directed to Kera. When the open seat is offered, she pauses to think about it for a moment, looking back at the door before hopping down from her stool and moving to the offered one. "Kera? I'm Bowyn," she says, a hint of pride in her voice when providing her own name. "Why do you have to make peace with the weyrlings?" she asks.

Seeing the scruffy looking rider's twitching towards the already raided togo plate, Kera snags the container and slides it out of Lan's reach. "Oh no ya don't." The apprentice gives the man an amused snort "I'm not buying the innocent thing." She shakes a scolding finger at the man. But it's doubtful the apprentice in her midteens is very intimidating. She finally cracks a grin and peers between Bowyn and Lan. "I've not had much luck making friends since I arrived from the Hall. And I seem to keep making one mistake after another with the Weyrlings. So.. Figured a peace offering was in order."

Ers'lan considers Bowyn and her questions, though, as they're directed to Kera, he only pipes in, "Good as 'em gets anyway. Can't say I be provin it too ya, unless ye get yourselves tangled up in a bit of trouble, eh." There's a lopsided grin for the scolding he gets, mirthfulness touching his gaze, "Ahh, I did narh mean anythin by samplin one. Just had to make sure they be worthy." He's completely innocent, "I owe ya—" and there's a far reaching look toward the exit. A faint puff of air escapes his lips, his head hangs down. Whyyyyyy! One supposes he's had enough at least for now and he pushes back from the bar, "Ye make friends fine Kera… from where I be standin…" A bob of his head, a salute to the old seacrafter a seat down, and maybe a nod to someone else, "Excuse me…" and a way he goes! Out the door.

Bowyn raises a brow at Kera's explanation and scratches the side of her head. "Well…I mean, what did you do to make them so upset? Did you spit on 'em all as you walked by or play some prank, or…?" She seems genuinely confused, and curious. "I mean I barely know you but I already like you, so I can't imagine you'd have that hard of a time making friends. Somehow I don't believe you. I think you're alright." At Ers'lan's sudden departure she blinks, closing her mouth instead of making some comment like she was going to do. "By then," she calls after him. "He's quite the character."

Kera just shakes her head at the not quite drunk but well on the way Lan, but then nods to agree with something he says /Yea ya do, considering as a rider you get paid more marks than a lowly apprentice./ That's what crosses her mind to say, however, her bain to mouth filter simply pulls a smile on the apprentice's face and waves to the departing rider. I think calling that one a character is an understatement." Sipping her tea again, she restacks her plates, cept the one already opened "Since it's already short, would ya like one?" She wiggles the plate towards Bowyn as she considers the girl's question "Well, not quite, but sorta, depending on who ya ask." Yep, that's informative. "It seems I've assaulted one, irritated one, and upset another one simply because I didn't know something that happen before." She's ticking off the points with her fingers.

I light chuckle escapes Bowen's lips. "An understatement, huh? Then what would you call him? He seems like he's a riot." Suddenly the baklava is being wiggled at her and she takes a deep breath while trying to decide whether or not she wants to open the can of worms that eating sweets delivers. She does. "Sure, I'll help you out with those," she says as she reaches for a piece. "Thank you. Haven't had baklava in a long time." The wild girl chooses the smallest piece and sniffs it before biting half of it off with a grin on her face during the chew. "Mmm, s'good!" she says around her food. The checklist of offenses causes her eyes to widen a touch. She brushes a crumb from the corner of her mouth and swallows before saying, "Holy-Why'd you do all that? I mean…sounds like it was all unintentional. Probably." Except maybe the assault. "Sounds like a doozy. I hope their love of baklava will make it easier for you." Everybody loves baklava. Everybody.

Kera blinks to the little huntress and shakes her head quickly "I most certainly did not do any of it on purpose." She frowns a little and shrugs "Things just sorta… happened. ..And I didn't /really/ assault that weyrlinglike with a stick or anything, just doused him with perfume is all." Nodding a bit decisively as if that clears that up, it's not like she goes around tripping people to cause injury or anything…though it would give her practice in the infirmary..A future thought to ponder. Taking one of the sweet treats between her fingers, she starts nibbling thoughtfully. "And I've only been posted here a few sevendays. Already had personal 'chats' with the Weyrsteward and the Weyrwoman too." No doubt those chats did not end well for the little apprentice healer.

Bowyn's face screws up and she bursts into laughter. "You dumped /perfume/ on him and that somehow means you /assaulted/ him?" The laughter continues and she even snorts once or twice. "That's the most ridiculous thing I'e ever heard. On the topic of the length of her stay so far, Bo shrugs a shoulder. "So you got a rocky start. At least you're trying to clear things up now, however ridiculous the people involved are acting. If it all goes south, you could always come live in the wilderness with me. I make a mean tree fort." She nudges an elbow in Kera's direction and wears a stupid grin on her face. "So what do you do 'round here anyhow?" she asks, without bothering to look for any kind of knot.

Kera sips her tea and peers at Bowyn sideways as the huntress finds quite a bit of amusement from only the offense. As the other girls comments start to take a certain turn in direction, Kera is peering around the pub. All the riders around and the little fearless huntress is speaking nearly insulting words, since it's the rider types that considered perfume dousing to be assault.A grin and little shake of her head "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. While I love gardening, I've no desire to be sleeping in trees any time soon." Kera smirks at that and lowers her empty cup to the bar. "I'm recently posted here from the HealerHall. So mostly I change patients sheets and and keep the buckets clean for now."

Bowyn notices the other girl looking around, and so she does the same herself, not understanding why the apprentice has become so shifty in her general eye region. "What? Why're you looking around like that?" When conversation turns to the HealerHall the little hunter seems to forget about the funny looks and instead lets a little smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Oh, you're a healer in the making, then! We're opposites, I suppose. I know more about giving wounds than healing them. Though I guess I do know a bit about basic first aid." Very basic. She bears the "rub some dirt in it" attitude. After a moment a gruff looking older man walks through the door and motions to Bo with a lopsided grin. "Ah," she says, looking his way, "I gotta sell this pelt to that man over there." She gestures to said pelt under her arm. "Was nice meeting you, Kera. Hope I'll see you around sometime. I'll drag you out into the forest one of these days, whether you like it or not."

Kera more than glad to let talk of her offenses pass on, she grins to the little huntress "Then you'ld be knowing a bit more than I do." Not really of coarse, considering all the charts and manuals Kera studies. "Hmm, if you've been out in the wilderness, it's a good idea to stop by the infirmary and let the Weyrhealer give you a looking over." Thank you for the public service announcement apprentice. When Bowyn's attention is pulled away, she follows the girl's gaze before turning back. "Ah, Nice meeting you Bowyn." As the girls gathers her pelts, Kera gathers up her baklava orders. At the girl's last words, she arches a brow towards the pelt carry hunter "Er, alright?" Whether she likes it or not? Almost sounds like a threat. Nah. She wiggles her fingers towards Bowyn before rising out of her chair and starting towards the door.

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