Blizzards and Bakers

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 snowy outside! More than snowy. It's a near blizzard out there! Gusts of wind and cold and snow blow across Xanadu, sheeting everything in white and rendering things difficult to see. ka-el has been caught in the middle of it all on his way from the forges to the caverns, seeking food. Thus, he ducks into the nearest place, which happens to be a place he's never been in before. He's never had any reason to frequent the tavern, having only turned of age a month ago. But now, he's here out of necessity, a hard wind blowing in after him til he pushes the door closed with a shoulder, shutting it out. He shudders, stamping off snow from his boots, his face near hidden by a wool cap drawn down near his eyes and a colorless scarf wrapped about his neck and mouth. A jacket is worn, as are gloves. He glances up, earning the attention of a few men who seem to deem him unworthy of close speculation as they soon return to their drinks and conversation while Kale himself, a bit unsurely, moves further in.

An errant baker caught in the midst of a roiling snowstorm is one unhappy baker apprentice. To top it off, Harmony barely passed muster on her dinner project this evening so the flush-cheeked bundled girl's night has definitely gone south. While she may or may not be of age for the tavern, it's not for drinking that her feet have carried her into this place on this nasty night. In her hands is a well bundled basket of what must be skins of hot drinks and hot food — seems like this girl is here for a delivery. She's bundled in a confection of pink: gloves, hat, jacket, pants, boots. A sprig of blond hair peeks out from the left side of her hat as she takes in the tavern in front of her. "Now, where to take these." It's on her way to the finding just that that she nearly stumbles and falls into Kale. "Oh! Sorry!" Profuse apologies.

Kale is in the process of unraveling his scarf from about his neck, for it’s much warmer in here than it is outside, and without the blustery wind and snow whipping in his face, he realizes that it's a bit had to breathe with it on. So the collision might have been avoided if either one of them had been paying attention, but … paying attention is so overrated. He's pulling the last loop from around himself when.. crash! He finds himself suddenly full of pink! Pink? He blinks twice, not sure what to do with his hands, as one sort of flails while the other (the more sensible of the two) reaches out to steady both himself and the one who fell into him by grasping the side of her arm. "Woah!" She's apologizing, and so is he, not knowing who's at fault. "Sorry! I…woah.." he blinks once, eyes traversing her quickly. "…That's a lot've pink."

Grateful for the arm of support, Harmony attempts to hold onto her bundle (which is an average, dull brown) without spilling the contents. "Okay, okay, I think — yeah I think I got it." Finally, the bundle is balanced and she's able to grasp that Kale is the one that helped her. Flashing a bright smile, cheeks still too-pink from outside, the girl chirps out, "Thank you /sooooooooo/ much. I don't know what happened — " she does turn to give whatever offending foot (that's her story and she's sticking to it!) tripped her a good glare — "but thank you. I don't know what I would have done if I'd dropped this. They're expecting it… here. Or something." She blinks green eyes and pauses. "I like pink. It's a beautiful color." Her tone? It dares him to disagree! "I'm Harmony." As an introduction it… passes muster. Maybe.

With balanced reclaimed, Kale's hand releases the Very Pink Girl's arm, and he grins in response to her thoughts regarding the color. It's beautiful? Bah, not as much as green, and definitely not as much as blue! But, dare he protest? "…Yeah, it uh…suits ya," he suffices to say, grin still intact. "Matches the hue've your face. Jus' the right shade!" Eyes lower to her bundle, a healthy dose of curiosity accompanying the look. "Oh, an' you're welcome. Wouldnt've been good've me to step aside an' let y'fall flat on your face, eh?…. Not to mention, I didn't even see ya coming, so it was a fortunate accident I was here an' you tripped where y'did, else you might've after all." Ah fortune, how it smiles on them both this wintery evening! "I'm Kale. Kale Crestwood. I like your name. And…what're you delivering, f'I may ask? Ale?"

"Well met, Kale," Harmony returns, that grin showing up again. "Oh, well, it's cold out there!" Said in regards to her cheeks. "I've got a delivery of mulled cider and warm scones and muffins. And a few little sugary surprises. I made the scones." Is that pride in the girl's voice? Why yes it is! She juggles the bundle again, but once it's settled, a furtive glance is given deeper in the tavern. "If you want to try one, there's a few extras down at the bottom." She tilts the bundle, offering him a sneaky taste should he so desire.

Ooh. Did she say…sugary? That totally has Kale's attention, though truth be told, she had it at the word "warm". His brows lift as he peeeers towards her bundle as it's tipped his way, inhaling the fragrance of…oh. Baked goodness! It's intoxicating. Who needs liquor when there's sweets about? "Sure…I mean, if there's extra…" He grins while sneaking a hand in to pluck out a scone. "Y'made this? So…you're a baker. Y'must work in the kitchens." A pause there, and he glances left and right before leaning towards her a bit. "I had a task there once a week ago. I didn' know bread was so hard to make. Think I ruined a pan forever, but I promised I'd make another one for'm. Burnt crust is…sort've hard to scrape off, isn't it?" He leans back afterwards, a smirk evident on his face before he lifts the scone to take a bite. Bite! Chew. Chew. His expression grows thoughtful, apparently taking the time to savor and analyze the taste. After a swallow, he looks at her, brows gently lifted. "Best I've ever tasted. No lie."

"I do. I am an apprentice," Harmony says with not a little drop of pride. Further bolstered by his words of praise. "Bread can be frightful if it doesn't make right, but I prefer savory dishes like soups and chills and such if I have my way…" Flashing him another grin, she adjusts the weight of her bundle and says, "It was nice to meet you, Kale, but I've got to get this off to that guy over there," she chin nods to the bartender, "before it's gone warm. You have a good night, now, you hear?" With that, the girl in the confection of pink bounces off to where she's got to deliver her goods.

An apprentice baker, fancy that! "You're the first I've met officially. I think I chose the wrong craft," Kale muses, rubbing a gloved hand on his chin a few times. "I love food so much, would've been smarter for me to learn how to make things that…y'know…people can actually eat. My bread was like a rock. A burnt one. A rock, thrown in fire, rolled in ash, an' fused with iron. That'll be the las' time I ever get kitchen duty," he snickers before nodding at her departure. "Nice meetin' you too, Harmony. Stay warm," he advises with a glance to the door that keeps the winter weather at bay. A smile is offered as she walks off to finish her deed. Then he turns to find a table, deciding to stick out the weather for a while with his scone and an order of dinner to keep himself occupied.

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