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Post by Èdan on Aug 23, 2021 14:41:03 GMT -6
"Nonsense," the knight protests with a smile, perhaps a bit more boldly than is intended, "Humbleness can be an endearing quality, and it feels more a warm home than most cold castles out there." There's a bit of a scoff as he takes another drink from the flagon, before he continues, "You should not sell it so short. I could name more than a few nobles whom could take a page from your book. They have all the aspirations of gentry, with none of the gentle nature, and all and more to learn about humbleness."
The invitation for stew came unexpectedly, however, causing him to focus on her with an unspecific sort of confusion, even the flagon pausing on it's way back down to the table. When it starts moving again, being placed down, the look seems to search for something, though unclear what. A part of the knight's mannerism should be object to this notion. Rules were rules and they were meant to be followed on bane of honour. (But also the day has been long, the events plentiful and the ale soothing and warming the belly). In his own negligence to this, he beings to realize it's been a bit too many sentences without a 'my lady'.
Finally, the knight leans one elbow on the table, still not quite with confidence as he seems to parse this into, "You offer is kind, though I would not wish to rob even a spoonful of your meal, for you've been in dire need of it. But.." The gaze wanders a moment, finding no purchase of escape, and finally settling on the candle on the table, "Perhaps.. under the circumstances of the day, certain.. compromises? Could be made towards etiquette.. for the betterment of one's health." The words don't roll out even, but it's evident the poor knight's trying something fierce. Any other day, any other place, (Any other person) and that thought might not even cross his mind.
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Post by Nadia on Aug 24, 2021 4:26:21 GMT -6
Nadia found some sort of strange enjoyment in seeing the knight flounder. Was that cruel of her? She had no vicious intentions - it was simply interesting to see how much he struggled to put his duties aside, in comparison to herself, a woman who became more eager by the day to lose what was left of her nobility. Being a lady had only ever given her troubles.
It was a simplistic thought, because anything more detailed was being dampened by the wine she was imbibing.
"Do not strain yourself, sir. I have no desire to make you uncomfortable," She said with a smile, stirring her spoon in the stew. "I only meant that I intend to relax, and I hope you will too. It has been too long a day for me to fret about being proper. Besides, there is wine to drink."
More forthright than she had ever been before, it would seem; and the most eager to get into her cups. After she'd eaten some stew, that was. Her stomach would not cope much longer without sustenance.
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Post by Èdan on Aug 24, 2021 5:06:59 GMT -6
The knight finds the candle intently interesting for a few moments longer, before finally being able to glance towards her. It isn't embarrassment as such, but more a kind of in-built styling that would take a lot of effort to overcome. After all, when one makes something be so second-nature, there's a whole lot of alarm bells that go off when one goes against it. (In one fashion, or another). So he searches her look again and finds only the smile, the ease and perhaps even a touch of amusement that hadn't been there before, and his shoulders relax again.
She's right, of course. The day has been long and they both deserve to relax. And, well.. with nary a witness to the occasion, perhaps the knight can let go of some built-in natures as well. (Just a little). So, he responds with a short laugh and a closed smile, one broader than those just politely kept in check, but not yet too brazen either, "Very well, my lady. I shall.. attempt this. But only up to a point." He raises the flagon, before continuing with more amused tone, "After all, the manner of a gentleman should remain such regardless whether sober or within cups, especially with gentle company near. Beyond that.." There's a thoughtful pause, "How would a common man behave in such situations?"
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Post by Nadia on Aug 24, 2021 5:40:22 GMT -6
It was a relief, to see him smile. Nadia inclined her head in a nod, and went for another mouthful of her stew; she was enjoying it twice as much as she thought she would, but was trying to keep her eating speed reasonable, to avoid looking impolite. There were certain things she could not let go even in circumstances like those, and that included table manners.
"I wish I understood better. One might call me... sheltered," She replied, with a touch of colour rising on her cheeks. To acknowledge that she wasn't street savvy was a tad embarrassing, even if it was plainly obvious to everyone. "Many things that the folk of the city do are still alien to me. In fact, I... it took me some time to get used to ladies being permitted to walk unchaperoned."
She'd hated her chaperones. They were always dry, polite to a fault but not the slightest bit willing to indulge her in conversation. A small price to pay for safety, but to a young girl, it had been torture.
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Post by Èdan on Aug 24, 2021 6:08:33 GMT -6
There is an understanding nod, as he bites down on the bread and washing it down with a sip of the ale. "Then it seems we're both in quite the same boat. I too have found some of the City's mannerisms quite.. strange. Though I suppose it is so far removed from what either of us would call familiar." And then some, in truth. The City isn't so much any one culture, but a melting pot of all of them, and there's an almost tribal war for survival for different mannerisms day in and day out. No clearer picture paints this than the marketplace, where the spicers of the west compete against the oil merchants of the east. The fur traders of the north can't stand the leather workers of the south. And yet all of them offer produce that is necessary and needed by everyone.
"Did you know there is a blacksmith knight within the City?" he asks, looking surprised at the notion. "I would have never thought to see a knight do manual labour in such a fashion, and yet they have a booming business of selling weaponry." One thought leads to another (In no small part smoothed out by another sip of ale), as he continues with a short chuckle, "Though, I suppose the City has a mannerism unique to itself still. Where you and I might be accustomed to the notion of a chaperone being a necessity, the City has replaced this with creatures. While I have trouble understanding it, there is something to be said of the protection something akin to a large direwolf might provide, compared to a mere human." The tone is amused at this strangeness, though there's a hidden note that seems to worry in regards to the nature of replacement. After all, what need is of a knight when the four-legged 'chaperone' can breathe fire at whim?
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Post by Nadia on Aug 24, 2021 14:28:47 GMT -6
Nadia found comfort in hearing the knight chatter. She was getting tired of the sound of her own voice; she thought it must have been driving him crazy, too, to listen to hear rambling on about whatever subject caught her attention. Whether it was his job or not, he deserved a break from it.
"I had no idea. Truth be told, my shopping is limited to a select few establishments... I have not been very adventurous, in fear of what I might find," She said with a laugh. "Plus weaponry is not my strong suit. I shouldn't know what to do with it should it be in front of me."
It was true enough that animals were taking the place of chaperones in the city. The whole reason they had found each other was that she was not sensible enough to employ either man or beast, however, so she didn't have a leg to stand on.
"I have seen all manner of beasts used as protection here. The drakes... they are rather formidable."
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Post by Èdan on Aug 24, 2021 14:44:08 GMT -6
There is an ease to the knight's posture not so easily found previously, perhaps finding it easier to switch to said 'relaxed' notion when there is a topic of discussion on hand (And certainly the ale helps, too). There is nothing to hint her words would bore him, now or before, and more than enough evidence that said tight-lipness might have been more derived from his own personal sense of restraint. But, now, with company, food, drink and permission given, there's certainly little call to keep things so quiet.
All in all, though the words are more, the voice still continues to have that slow northern drawl, "If my lady fears the market, she need but ask for company, and I shall assist. To be sure, some of the merchants can certainly be fearsome hagglers with a pushiness bordering on thievery, but it should not pose any other threat, if it eases your mind." There's another sip of the flagon and another bite from the bread, before a brow cranes curiously as he looks to her, "In that regard my offer would still stand. Should you wish to train in ways to defend yourself, even with something as simple as a walking stick, I could offer a few lessons. Though I hope they would never need to find use, it can be better to have some knowledge than none, even if you wish not to fight."
At the mention of the drakes, the face mockingly sours, shaking his head, "Dreadful things.. It does amaze me that some would consider them pets in any form or fashion. Where I am from we've learned to fear and hunt them, the better to keep a town safe, for they don't often get picky about eating lamb or man." And to accent the notion, he taps the top of the helm where the horns are set.
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Post by Nadia on Aug 24, 2021 15:26:18 GMT -6
Nadia had to restrain the urge to laugh. At home, training in self defence for a lady would be unheard of - there were knights to do that for highborn women, and the commoners had husbands or brothers. There was no need for one to pick up a weapon. In a city such as this, however, the culture was different, and there would be no shame in her learning the way of the sword (or any armament she became interested in). The amusing part to her was the mental imagery of them training together.
"I am concerned you would flatten me, sir," She teased. The stew was rapidly disappearing, and she was pouring herself another glass of wine, a grin broad on her face. "A man of your prowess... I may not make a proficient student... but I appreciate the sentiment, and will consider."
Her eyes drifted up to the horns on his helmet at his gesture, and they grew wide. Was he implying what she thought he was...? It had been a source of curiosity for her, but she'd not imagined that the helmet was comprised of a trophy from a real drake.
"You mean to say... you have slain a drake?"
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Post by Èdan on Aug 24, 2021 15:53:34 GMT -6
"Ah, heh.." the knight allowed himself an awkward smile and chuckle at the teasing, looking down. While the ego isn't easily tickled, she does make a good point about their respective weight classes. "I shall endeavour to avoid such, as much as possible, if it helps your decision. But you need not worry, as this sort of training begins with simpler basics, such as stance, form and ground principles. There would not need to be a reason to attempt a spar until much later, and only if you wish to attempt more physical training." He leans on one elbow, taking a sip of the flagon, before following it up with, "There are many different ways to win a fight, and not all of them require a punch to be thrown."
The flagon is in the process of being refilled again when she brings up the question about the horns, one which inevitably becomes a topic of discussion given their prominence. There's a slow and solemn nod, as he explains, "There's a tradition in the north, that to prove one's self a warrior, you need to hunt and slay a drake by one's self, and claim a trophy from it. It can be any drake, though the larger, the greater the honour." He taps the horns again, "It had not been a very large one, but it was young and bold, in those years when they tend to be most territorial and thus most dangerous to towns. The hunt itself took the better part of the week, of back and forth tracking and escaping, until finally it was cornered into a cave. That's one of the ways to hunt them, you see, for a grounded drake is a weakened one."
"I shall spare you the details of the battle itself, for it is not a subject for the dinner table, but in the end the drake lost and I was able to return to town with the horns as trophy. And thus, the name Hornbringer, to denote the deed."
. 20 . (added)
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Post by Nadia on Aug 25, 2021 5:33:56 GMT -6
Nadia listened, fascinated, as the knight recounted the events. Her wine glass was frozen in her grip, inches away from her lips - she was like a child, hooked on the words of her bedtime story. It had been a long time since anyone had narrated to her like that. Tales of heroism and battles were never far from her table as a child, but that was in the distant past.
"A worthy title..." She murmured, but then her expression took on the hint of a frown. "Though I... I must say, I somewhat pity the drake. Forgive me for the notion, I understand they can be terribly vicious, but... it must be rather frightening, to be cornered. Having nowhere to run."
The bottom of her stew bowl became most interesting to her in the seconds that followed. Her own comments had brought on the reverie, and she was doing her best to fend it off, by hook or by crook.
"You are brave. I should not think I could find a better teacher."
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Post by Èdan on Aug 25, 2021 6:16:36 GMT -6
It's also certainly been a long time since a tale has caused anyone to be enraptured, and if the knight adds a little more flourish to the words than normal, it's only understandable - After all, if the purpose of the tale is to entertain, surely he must oblige to the role of a proper storyteller. (It seems only appropriate). And would that he'd be surprised at her compassion, but he's seen her tame not one, but two wild fey cats within the span of a couple of minutes, while deathly ill and weakened at that. As in other things, she seems much too humble for those skills, and who knew? Perhaps taming a drake might even work, for stranger things have happened in this weird magic-infused city-scape.
The knight shakes his head lightly, no offense taken, "I can understand the sentiment, but assure you the drake made it no easy task. They don't understand fear the same as we do, but they certainly understand fury and rage, which makes them so dangerous." And the man leans closer to the candlelight, turning his face towards her, the better to have the light trace out the few thin scars that cross the face, fortunate to miss the pale blue eyes, though running close enough. "The north is a wilder place than this. The drakes at the Pit can certainly be frightening, but even they pale to their wilder cousins. If you should meet one, I'm afraid compassion would not be the way to survive the encounter, though it otherwise remains an admirable quality."
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Post by Nadia on Aug 25, 2021 12:58:15 GMT -6
Nadia glanced upwards, and was instantly transfixed by the scarring on the knight's face. So close to his eyes, a fraction away from being catastrophic. He was lucky, but not fortunate enough to get away unscathed. One hand rose to ghost over her collarbone, beneath the scar on her own neck; she'd accepted it as part of her a long time ago, but became conscious of it in these moments, as if it itched.
"I shouldn't like to meet one," was the conclusion, and at last her wine glass moved. The alcohol was disappearing at quite a pace - she'd kept her head so far, but the colour remained high in her cheeks, and her tongue was certainly loosened. Who knew how slack it would be by the end of the night. "I... have a whelp, as it happens. He will one day be a brute. It is hard to believe when you see them small."
Her appetite was mostly sated, but there was always room for bread! Her aim was somewhat dubious when she took up the butter knife again.
"Tell me something else about your land, Sarv. Please."
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Post by Èdan on Aug 25, 2021 13:51:31 GMT -6
He lets her see for as long as she wishes, that one rare moment when the helmet's purpose to obscure the face seems hand-waved. Eventually, he does pull back in to the dimmer light of the tavern, and though the face isn't less obscured, the details fade to be less prominent, as if always there in some proverbial background, unimportant. All the while, a soft smile, but attentive look to the eyes, as if trying to read her reaction. (It says a lot about people at how they react to scars.. of any kind. Some read them as weakness, others as strength. Some are grossed out by them, others admire them. Most land in the in between, neither this nor that, but a rare few carry their own stories told in similar lines). As of yet, he can't quite tell her disposition, but then, in his own head, something says it's not that important right now.. As if it's a concern for another time.
"I have not yet seen any so small as here," he wonders out loud, picking up her train of thought, "Perhaps the brutes these become are not so violent as those in the wild?" There's a small shrug, "The City has magic a plenty, there could be other ways to pacify one without doing any harm." He absolutely doesn't know that for sure, but that's a minor detail that didn't quite matter in the current context. Similar to her ability to wield the butter knife, the soft balm on the mind makes a few things feel not quite as important as before. (Plus, the knife is dull and hardly a weapon to damage one's self with, so he need not worry about her there).
At the demand, there's a thoughtful look, as if wracking his brains, "There are not too many tales to tell.. The north is not very.. how would you say.. 'excitable' places. Little happens most of the year and the rest is grim or dull." Looking to her, there's another of the raised brows, "How far north have you been, if you don't mind me asking?"
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Post by Nadia on Aug 27, 2021 18:25:37 GMT -6
Nadia thought about her whelp as she nibbled on the corner of her slice of bread. He was a dear thing, for a sarane - it was almost unimaginable that he would grow up to be terribly dangerous. If she had her way, he'd never get bigger, and they'd be friends forever. Wouldn't that be nice?
"North... hm, not very far. I have been between my homeland and this place, and that has been the extent of my travels," She confessed. "Perhaps it would be nice to see the world someday, but... for now, I am content to hear of it in stories. Books transport me to foreign lands just as well."
Omitting the fact that roaming would be dangerous for her. She had no concept of how many allies her house had in foreign lands, or how far their reach extended. It was best to err on the side of caution. More wine was dispensed into the glass; the bottle was far lighter in a very short period of time.
"This tastes better with each glass."
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Post by Èdan on Aug 28, 2021 5:27:16 GMT -6
Ah yes, the magical art of books. There's a knowing smile to those words and a slow nod. To many they are the only form of escape, to others a source of scholarly truth. And this place certainly has it's share of libraries and mountains of knowledge (Perhaps too much so, but nothing as yet to be overly concerned with). "In such a case, perhaps it's fortunate. I would hate to tell a tale already known and thus found boring." It's said with a sense of fun, though the concern is still very much there. After all, they are meant to be relaxing and having a fine time, so really it's following her own orders when you think about it.
As he's thinking on a possible tale to tell, there's the off-hand comment with a motion towards the bar, "If you wish to order more, that can certainly be arranged. I'm told they have quite a variety of choice for drinks here." before taking a larger drink from the flagon as well. The ale generally didn't taste any better or worse as the drinking wore on, but it did make one feel better in the process, so really, the net profit was largely the same. (Plus, with the headache dulled down, and the restrictions of propriety lifted, it actually made for a pleasant time as well).
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