A pint at the Ogre's Head

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wisp

wisp

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Derya sat at a table in the Ogre's Head, chair tilted back onto its rear legs, perched precariously indeed. She nursed a large mug of something that turned her light cheeks rosey and her nose wrinkle a bit after each sip. As she rocked, tempting fate and the temperament of her chair, the young Elf was lost in thought. She felt like she was losing her grasp of herself, constantly finding herself in situations she wasn't prepared for and coming up dreadfully short. She felt strange being ordered about by younger races, by individuals who had no claim over her. And worse, she knew the only person who might come close to understanding was the bloody Rockholm.

Her crooked, impish grin played across her lips. That one was amusing, she had to admit. She also needed to step up her game, else he'd outplay her. Taking another sip of the bitter something in her mug, her dark eyes scanned the room, trying to pick out any good gossipers or folk drunk enough to spill too much.
 
Spying the elf sitting at her table, Deverel crosses the establishment with his mead. athe Hobling inclines his head in greeting and asks "Might I join you, m'lady?"
 
Derya lifts her head to grin a cockeyed grin at Deverel. "Ahhhh..Silver." With her accent, it still comes out Silva, but she thinks he might know what she's calling him. Her look is mildly amused. "Of course you may join me, sit, sit." She drops her chair, with a loud thunk, on to the floor and uses her foot to shove another out from under the table. "How have you been?"
 
Catching the intent of the greeting, the hobling grins and takes the offered seat. "I'm doing quite well my friend, quite well indeed. I hear there was some excitement a little while back. I'm sorry to have missed it. I hope everything went well for you. "
 
The sudden noise of the elf's chair meeting the floor startled the sable-coloured rabbit at a table against the wall, causing the chamomile flowers she was about to drop into her hot cider scatter from her paw and miss their target.

"Oh, bullocks..." she uttered under her breath, adjusting her spectacles and salvaging what she could of the buds off the table. Adding them individually to her mug, her paw trembled ever so slightly in doing so.

It had been a long time since her work had unnerved her this much; a very long time since she had nearly lost both mother and child in delivery. Never mind those of an affluent merchant family in the upper end of the city. Usually she was fine to go from the client's household back to the enclave, but not today. Today required an extra stop, if not only for silent celebration. If she had not had those spells in her memory, the hemorrhage would have been a near-disaster to treat, and the day would have ended in a much different manner. Brilliant. Three days into my 13th year of life, and this profession I have spent half my existence in still finds ways to remind me of that about it which is most difficult. Just to make sure I am still paying attention, no doubt.

A few more days of shifts, and then off to the island for the court induction. As though that is not another potentially awful situation in the making. Sighing, she settled back in her seat. Picking up her mug, she watched the room passively and swished the liquid around so the flowers would sink to the bottom. Just these for now to calm the nerves, and valerian root once I get back home. No need to make myself a walking zombie, not with the rumors that have been flying around the city.
 
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Derya leans back, kicking her legs out and crossing her ankles. Her grin dances across her lips and she tilts her head down, giving the hobling a mock-coy look. "Oh, haven't you heard? I went drinking with the mighty Az'Caine. And, according to some, I'm carrying his babe now." She reaches down, patting her stomach before laughing brightly. "I'm alive. I breathe, I hurt, I thirst, I lust. Life is good."

She looks down at her drink a moment, stashing away any doubts, any fears, any nagging thoughts she might have. "How's business been then? Can a lass buy you a drink?"
 
While draining his drink, Deverel's eyes go wide and he chokes a bit at the comment on the Archmage, and chuckles when he realises its a joke. "Strange goings I've missed. I'd assuredly appreciate another drink. Business has been....." the hoblings trails of here looking somewhat dejected "unfortunately slow. Everything is starting to look up now. Is there anything you need to get? Or possibly get rid of? "
 
Derya lifts a hand, signalling for another round. She casts a quick glance at the rabbitkin, idly wondering what herbs she's using before her attention returns to Deverel. "Mmmm, nothing to get rid of just yet, however.. There's a possible exchange coming up in the future that I might need some assistance with. The details are still in the workings, so it's nothing solid yet, but I could use another hand if it all pans out." The Elf smiles, tossing back the last of her own mug. "What's the easiest way for me to contact you when I know if this is solid or not?"

"As for need.." Derya mulls this over, tapping her cheek lightly. "I might draw you up a list of things I'd like, see what we can come to an agreement on." As an after thought, she adds, "Did I ever ask if you've family in the area?"
 
"Shout my name and jingle some coin, I'll be there." The hobling jokes and smiles. "But really, just talk to one of the street runners and they'll find me. I'm always available for business, and doubly so when the business is conducted alongside friends." At this point the barmaid comes up with the next round of drinks. Deverel's expression clouds over somewhat as he carefully considers Derya's next question. "Right now, family is all back on Auric. I don't get to correspond with them much at the moment though." He brightens up, "But how about yourself? All I've ever heard is something about 'sheep'". Deverel takes a sip of his drink.
 
Derya's eyes narrow, a playful narrowing perhaps. She then grins. "No no, ship, not sheep." Did she say two different words there? She makes a motion with her hand as if something were bobbing on water. "A boat, only bigger. I am Veldenhold, yes? I grew up on the Silver Fin. I've been writing my own family for..oh a few months now. I feel your sorrow as I've yet to receive word back, myself." The Elf grimaces then and sits back in her chair, hand pulling her drink along with herself. "I miss the sea, the rules of the ship, as debatable as they were, they were also clear. I miss having only to remember to say Captain and Sir and not having to remember titles and all this bowing and scraping..it does not come naturally to me." She sighs then and leans forward. "But I am young yet and eventually I will return home, when my wander to see the world is done. I've been away only about a decade now."

She lifts her drink in a mix of a weird sort of salute and a toast. "To family just out of reach, to forging new ground and to making some coin with friends, yes?" Tossing back a good swig, her grin has returned. "I know two fearsome hobling women, if you're feeling particularly lonely. But I have to warn you, they scare me a bit, yes?"
 
Snapping out of a daze, Deverel chuckles and raises his cup in toast. "For now, my friend, I am fine. But yes, the titles are quite confusing. I find it surprising that one of the Valdenhold is willing to spend years away from the sea on the mainland." The hobling takes another drink.
 
The rabbit smiled to herself, finishing her drink. Although it had been many years since she had lived around those of her own kind, and very few others, it still fascinated her to listen and watch other species interact. That quota had been filled for this particular evening, though. Granted, it lacked the social atmosphere and energy of life that the tavern had, but it was just as easy to sit alone in her own quarters. The cleanliness of the tables for spreading her books out upon to study was a touch less suspect at home, as well.

Chuckling, she stood and gathered her bag of work supplies and her ever-present staff, starting for the door. Stopping a few steps past where the elf and hobling were sitting, she shook her head and doubled back, pulling two small packets out of her bag as she drew up next to their table.

"I apologize sincerely for my discourteous interruption, and the overhearing of your conversation. My auricular sense, with ears such as these, is oft too sensitive." she spoke with a light laugh, the lilt of her voice soft and warm. Looking to the hobling, she smiled. "Good sir, I happen to be on my way back to the island quite soon with another merchant, and will be passing through Auric, should you wish to send any correspondence with us. Although I am sure a man of your means would have no issue finding someone to convey your letters, I thought it perhaps, neighbourly, that I would offer my service."

With a polite nod to him, she directed her gaze to the elf. Placing the packets in front of the woman, her whiskers twitched in mirth. The first toe of her forepaw on one, she said, "This is chamomile. It is best steeped in a tea, but in any hot beverage, can be used to sooth the nerves better than most alcohol. Tends to sedate, rather than... lower inhibitions, though." Pointing to the other, she continued, "This, is if you do happen to find yourself with child. Generally, I would offer to perform an examination right now, but this is hardly the place. Start mixing a pinch with your food once daily, and make it a priority to come see me. I have delivered the progeny of several nobles into this world, but I would have to say, to welcome that of the Lord Archmage himself... would be a thrilling occurrence."

"I am Iso'bel, of the local Earthweaver enclave. The only rabbit among them, insofar that I am aware. Should you require any related ministrations, feel free to call upon myself or my peers." Her words addressed them both once more, a grin playing at her furred features. "Once more, my apologies for the intrusion. Enjoy your evening." In finality, after the slightest curtsey, she turned to leave the tavern.
 
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Derya nods to Deverel, "To be honest, I feel the itch to return home."

She's about to continue when the rabbit-kin approaches. "I..wha.." She looks down at the packets handed to her and then back up to the woman as she begins to leave. "Uh, my thanks, Iso'bel! Should you happen to come across the Archmage though, we may not want to mention this? He is...embarrassed, yes? By his terrible mistake, laying with so low a woman." She pauses here, spreading her hands and shrugging. "I have that affect on men, it seems." A cocky little grin begins to play across her lips and she tucks the offered remedies away.
 
Derya's comments caught her a few steps away. Because her back was to the table, they would not have been able to see the uneasy expression flit across her face at the mention of her encountering a powerful Celestial caster. However, the slight, uncomfortable twitch of her head and ears as result of the shiver that ran down her spine would have been visible in the dim light of the tavern.

Her momentary disconcertion was well buried by the time she turned back to the elf, a warm demeanor once more about her. “Oh? I will not bring it up when I see him at our weekly needlepoint circle, then.” she said with a laugh, letting the well-mannered sarcasm hang for a moment before her expression flattened, her red eyes distant, almost haunted, when she spoke again. “Of course. Whether or not the tryst occurred, or any of its impending results; I will not utter a word. I prefer not to indulge in rumors. Or make it a habit to cross paths with any of those of the Arcane Sanctum, either. Though both seem to be, unfortunately, inevitable.”

With a final weak smile and a curt nod to the two of them, she turned and walked out of the tavern.
 
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