sir rictor cassul, korporal. (templars) wrote in emillion, |
Some of the women here could hold their drink better than he could. He’d gone toe-to-toe with his older sister and her friend, and only torn himself away in time to preserve his dignity and admit defeat. A few minutes later, Ric returned from the bar carrying another frothing tankard, and paused to take stock of the room. He could see burly knights playing darts in the corner, one of them making Cressida blush. Amos having some sort of low, intense discussion with Darius about Faram knew what – probably white magic, knowing those two. A cluster of thieves listening to one of Kiernan’s stories, while Bella smirked behind her hand and Theo stared into his drink. The squires flipping cups at a table of their own, trying in vain to bounce coins into their glasses of beer. The buzz of conversation around him, the heat of the tavern, the laidback thrum of good people having a good time. Rictor paused long enough beside Conan to grab a piece of gil, then bounced it neatly off the scarred table and into the boy’s glass; in unison, the squires exclaimed in dismay and the knight sauntered off, grinning to himself. And soon ended up sliding onto a bench beside Lex. It was inevitable, really, that he’d gravitate his way over here, to her own serene orbit at one side of the tavern proper. The rest of the world seemed to recede slightly as he did so. “Anyone propositioned you messily yet?” Rictor asked with a knowing smile. He knew how her last foray had gone. Lex gave Rictor a sideways glance. “Only to a game of cards,” she answered coolly. If any untoward advances really had been directed her way, she certainly wasn’t about to say anything. The evening had already proved itself to be informative in its own odd way. She’d left the quiet walls of the monastery at a prompt hour, beginning her journey with the brisk determination to be punctual. However, doubt and concern seemed to quickly ooze its way into her senses, and by the time she’d neared the area, Lex was already consumed with second-guessing her decision. Was it really necessary that she make an appearance? Surely whatever might be offered at a tavern held no strong interest for her, she thought, recalling similar visits to such places in the past. After all, she was a creature of intellect, of hard work and solemn contemplation. Loud, raucous taverns filled to the brim with boisterous laughter and catcalls, drunkenness and debauchery--these were alien, and not a little discomforting. Her mind was nimbly affording her all manner of scenarios in which she might find herself, and so, to alleviate her concern, Lex had wandered into Lux & Livre residing only a short ways down the street. She delayed her visit then by nearly an hour, simply frowning over books and attempting to come to a strong conclusion on why it was important or necessary to visit Puzzles. The answers were bleak and disparaging and inevitably drawn to the same unwavering conclusion. Lex chided herself and continued down the street to the tavern. Short and unassuming, she tried her best at first to go unnoticed. As she was unfortunately familiar with a number of the guests, however, this did not meet with a great deal of success. She snuck up to the bar, ordered whatever it was the person nearest had in their hands, and watched in anxiousness as the bartender turned toward the large keg behind him and filled another tankard. She paid and stared down into it, scrutinizing own reflection in the dark ale. Taking a seat at one of the benches, her tankard barely drained of its contents, she busied herself with observing those around her. It was then that Rictor found her out, lurking in her own corner of the tavern, attempting some form of rudimentary notes in the perspiration on the table. She nearly offered the same question, but her mind swerved smartly in another direction. “Enjoying the festivities, I gather?” |