Of Kicked Boots & Spilled Booze

Blue Silver Tavern

After collecting the rest of their travelling companions and going over the details Brisbe had given to Percival on the expected crowds of the next few days and rumors of shady business afoot, Halycind and Siin were dragged off to a celebration in her honor at the Blue Silver Tavern.

There was song from pretty trobairitz, small plays of her tussle with the Ghost-gale and and meat finely rosted for her. It wasn’t the night Siin had planned for her but he was patient to end their jovial day with the discussions of his heart.

Within all the carousing, Halycind found her Exemplariat swimming in rounds of that delicious Casena while they chatted around a large table with others of their order and a mass of the local semeguard. They were detailing some of the more spectacular tales the Agents had been the cause of.

Steins beat tables at the call of well known commands Agents often yelled to one another in salute. They then exclaimed in loud rounds, examples of warcries to whomever fell in opposition of them on whatever battlefield they found themselves in.

It seemed Halycind had been welcomed in to the heroes of their Order and Siin’s words would be true yet again. They’d speak of her tales for May Risings to come. Just as they talked of tales from cycle bygone of other Agents who’d bested evils.

She watched Percival and Veygornne both reenact moments of danger and death with the captivated warriors and patrons seated about the floors and lofts of the place. She couldn't help but smile, for those were the tales that caused her to have interest in becoming an Agent.

The idea of being a Power for the people and the arm of Kings excited her so much. A beast on a leash, who could tear the meat of sour men and ward the territories of its dens. To think she and her beau could both be a pair of heroes, hunters for Kings sent her imaginings into high places of wonder.

Kodlaa joined then again at the table amongst the fighters, more drunk now, with a wobbling platter full of ales.

“Caww' you're bright. When they say 'Paragons in Blazing Leathers', this isn't what they meant.”

“Oh, hush it's not that bad.”

“Stupid is what it is.” Kodlaa slammed down a glowing drink for her. “Oi, can you even drink yet? T'would be a pity if you couldn't.”

Halycind thought for a full moment trying to recall all the foreign instructions the medics and mages had given her. “To my knowledge I can?”

“Good...you're gettin' drunk.”

Kodlaa plopped down cloddly in her chair. “I knew you'd end up pulling something for somebody. You enjoy the wilderness?”

“You could...say that.” Halycind mused, fondly reminiscing on their morning and all she'd felt of the warcaster's kiss.

“Word is we'll be getting our actual quarries on the morrow or rising after.”

“Really? So soon.” she said half distracted.

“Soon? Halycind it's been almost two full moons' cycles since Lady Pants Down, granted you were half-dead for most of it. Beards shoulda given us the trial fortnights ago. I'll be old as they are when I become an Agent.” She cut a sharp glint to her, indeed, bearded formers.

“I'm sure they know what they're doing.” Halycind passed off; mind consumed with watching Siin play with other fighters. Then she sobered a bit to stare at her mentors, oddly this time. She noticed, even in their jubilance, both Veygornne and Percival were sharing certain glances around the table. They were always observing things even in their joyful and irreverent behaviour. What was this Order of Actus Agentem that such secrecy and plot was so prevelant?

The girls drank two more of the steins, reddish and then golden in colour. Halycind was immediately tipsy and enjoyed the swelling effect of numbing tongue and fiery lung and swaying sight. The other warriors and travellers and Isam fighters seemed so much more funny the more they drank of these special ales. Their mentors' stories also became so much more grandiose as they belted from atop the bars and tables; before the room knew it Veygornne had killed that entire army of undead with one single swoop of his blade. And Percival had burst an entire flaming feline with a giant sea of glass in the sky. There were so many stories of hunts, Halycind rolled over thoughts of what else there could have possibly been to capture.

Perhaps the dark man who raised his steed from cobbles? Had anyone captured anything like that?

Then the words on the scrolls of the necromancer danced about in her spinning memory.

Halycind's lips hung loose with wonderment among these in the tavern with her.

“I wonder if he'll be our quarry.” she said with an extremely expectant grin.

“Who?”

“The necromancer.”

“What mecroda-necerm-talk-to-the-dead guy?”

“The...Looooorde of Shadows.”

“Oooh, the one that little shite bled on about? Oh he's a yaanmuncher. Idunwanna hunt him.”

“The little girl was—wait that was a little girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, Isam.”

“The scrolls said he didn't want to harm little girls. He t'weren't gonna cut nothin' or raise nothin' or nothin’ nothin’ with no children.”

“Wha?”

“Pffft...you never pay attention to me.”

“you blatherin’! Hey, hey, hey. Call that muscly-one over.” Kodlaa loudly whispered to her friend's face, instead of her ears. She waved at a knifehand near a flailing Percival on a bar pole.

“I dun want that one, kicker!” halycind rebuked.

“Icehead, here, you need a nice boy to bed, you’re a hero now—Hey!! H-hey! Burly!” Kodlaa could barely be contained in the wildness of the tavern's jollity. She rose and ran toward the muscley warrior.

“Eberhavven, ice it! I'm a big girl, I can choose me own boy to--” Halycind's swinging arm knocked over two of her half full steins and she curse as her head involuntarily rolled downward to the scroll case she'd read earlier being drenched with ales. She blotted rags on herself and roving thoughts steered her mind. His magecraft must have been immense to commune with the dead. Was it grander than Siin's? Did they swirl about him like the Place of Power she just left.

She took off the satchel to throw up her crossed legs.

“I wonder what he's like?” Halycind muttered.

“Who?” Siin asked, even in his drunken state managed to saunter over with two more ales in hand.

Halycind's mouth was forming to utter the obvious 'you' as she looked on Siin but her silly drunken friend leaned too close to whisper to Halycind again. “His name's Tanielu...he's half Eschkafite and half Hagoniel, yeah? Them island types are rare.”

“Sit down, Kodlaa.” Siin forced her down by the shoulder yet also stabilizing himself. "She's already got somebody."

A wild moan sounded behind Halycind’s lips and the way he took in that flagon of ale was nothing shy of ravishing.

"Oooooo. Whooo? Who you got?" Kodlaa took the drinks from in front of Halycind, almost spilling the massive glasses.

"You ready to have that talk?" Siin's eyebrow rose very high on his tipsy brow talking to Halycind.

"Yes." Halycind couldn't spit the word fast enough.

"Yes, to what so fast?" Kodlaa furrowed completely missing signals passing between the two of them.

"Inn." He commanded, still staring at Halycind, gracefully drunk.

Kodlaa forgetting her previous query, asked another more important one. “Is this a bitter?!”

"Yes, Ser." Halycind answered his command, too breathy to use her full voice.

“Its a sweet, dog. Just drink it.” He shook his head for Kodlaa, but was still staring on Halycind

“Nothing doin’, kicker, gimmie a bitter!”

Kodlaa literally kicked the young mage and he snapped a pained look to her.

He groaned and turned to do as she’d ordered, “Last one for you, yaanmuncher, or you'll be tossing chunks down along some boy's--"

"Just get me what I want!" She yelled at him and he burst sparkles in a lewd gesture from his hand back to her.

“Now, you. Who what's like? Siin?” Kodlaa addressed Halycind's much older question slowly rocking her friend's crossed boots. “Ah, he's Buraamiran I'm sure he's well endowed. Oh, wait. Lookit. If you dunwanna bed that pretty island boy...you can always just bed Siin.”

“I'm about t--”

Kodlaa was booing in her distraction. “Wait, nooo, you can't do that he's a rogue and liar...that wasn't a bitter...it was some soft kiddie drink!”

Something flew to their end of the table from their quite merry betters. A boot, perhaps? Halycind looked to them in response to a series of loud crashes of glass. Veygornne was crafting tiny leather armies out of the placemats and Percival was crafting glass figurines only to both burst the lot to shards with drunken command of their Gifts.

Then Siin returned with two handfuls of ale for the pink-hair messy one.

"Take it, whiskers, and don't ask me fer anythin' else, ya here?" Siin said slamming the full steins down.

"Pbbbbb." Kodlaa answered, no longer minding him, she was watching Percival hang from a rafter.

Siin's hot glare into Halycind's eyes told her there was nothing else on his mind but her and their unfinished business. He let his drunk body lean and stroll towards the door. Even in his inebriation he kept so fine a gait. He nodded drunkedly to several of the fighters eyeing him before offering Halycind one last beckoning look as he headed out. Halycind immediately set boots heavily to the floor and pushed herself up from the table.

"Whuh--wait--where are you going?" Kodlaa’s eyes tried to follow Halycind standing up.

"To bed a mage."

"Drunk? That's not a good idea." Kodlaa dragged then looked up again. “Cash!"

Halycind patted Kodlaa on the head as she exited after Siin.

A sudden thought shot across Kodlaa’s mind, then. "Siin Ynggrloch?! Where's my flippin' bitter?!" Kodlaa yelped remembering she'd set him on a task. She didn’t see him at the bar. "Ynggrloch?!"