Thedor 9, 229: Commanders prefer Blondes

Commanders prefer Blondes
Summary: The Commander of the Navy tries to have a quiet drink, but gets interrupted by girls
OOC Date: 09/01/14
Related: none
Players:
Arlen Dwyn Airysse 
Bard's Tale Tavern
The Bard's Tale Tavern is where the locals come to drink, game, talk, and generally relax. The atmosphere in the main room is crowded, smoke-filled and noisy. In the southeast corner, to the right of the main door as you enter, is a large stone fireplace; on the other side of the door, a window shows the flickering torchlight from the village street. The furniture is coarse, yet comfortable; mostly plain wood, but a few of the chairs have upholstered seats. Hardly any of it has escaped the years unscathed, though; nearly every table, chair and barstool carries nicks, dents and stains, whether from bar fights or simply clumsy customers. The wooden floorboards are regularly swept clean.
At the far end of the room is a long bar, and on the wall over it a large, hand painted sign. Behind the bar you can see a door leading to the tavern kitchen. A staircase along the west wall leads up to guest quarters where weary travellers can rest and relax.
9th Day of Thedor, 229

The morning is calming down outside the bakery after the woman of town have already come to buy what they wanted in terms of bread. Dwyn is later then most young ladies as she still covers a yawn with the back of her hand. Eyes blinking she exits the bakery with nothing in hand but an order made, a small smile given over her shoulder to one of the bakers.

A man like Lord Arlen Kincaid does not go out to buy bread. He has servants to do that. Heck, even his servants have servants to do the shopping. But still the morning finds the commander of the Navy out in the street, hobbling along on a crutch. Apparently he is destined for the tavern. When an elderly woman steps into his path to flog something, he has no qualms about lifting his crutch to poke it into her ample side and push her out of his way.

Green eyes roam the street and it is hard to miss the man with a noble's air and a navy dress. Keeping the light, almost playful smile on her lips the blonde woman turns her attention towards the tavern, even if it isn't her work place. Perhaps it' nice to not eat where you work once in a while. She does stop though to offer the elderly woman a hand before moving for the door, keeping her distance from the noble just giving him a strong but purposely meek sounding, "My Lord." Along with a bob of a curtsy, though she tries to make it clear she does not want anything.

One brow flies upward in response to the young woman's greeting, her profession not hard to guess. "Isn't it a bit early for you, darling?", he asks with the faintest hint of a grin. He pushes the door to the tavern open and manoevres inside with his crutch. But he doesn't slam the door into Dwyn's face. Seems he's quite willing for her to follow him inside.

Dwyn isn't exactly dressed like a common whore at the moment, but of course a perceptive man would notice the subtle signs in her mannerism after two years at the job, and the lower cut of her dress. "Early is but a relative term my lord. I am merely wanting a hearty breakfast of my own and perhaps you are in need of a dining companion?" Long eye lashes bat as she steps through the door into the not too crowded tavern after him, "Though I would never presume to know your wants or need my lord." She offers a second quick curtsy.

"Well, well, right now I could do with some peace and quiet.", Arlen grumbles at poor Dwyn, though he does head towards one of the tables instead of the bar. Maybe to have some privacy with the young woman. Or perhaps because he needs to put his injured leg up on another chair. "Be a dear, get us some strong ale and greasy questionable stew. Keep the change.", he turns back to Dwyn, holding out a coin that will leave her with quite a bit of change.

Green eyes flash to the coin as Dwyn takes it with a tentative hand, "As my Lord wishes." She inclines her head and slips off to the bar, order the ale and stew along with bread for the two of them. She waits by the bar to take it to the noble herself, leaning against it and making a show of posing so one hip is jutted out in a sultry manner. He did ask for peace and quiet for the moment.

Good girl. Since he has nothing better to do while they wait for the food to be readied, Arlen's eyes rest on the girl's shapely curves, taking in the goods so to speak. It's quiet after all and not much else to see. Where else could he put his eyes?

Dwyn looks over her shoulder and catches the noble man's eyes, or at least attempts to and gives him a friendly smile. The food is quickly brought out, since it is for a noble, and she picks it up like she has been serving food her whole life. A dancer grace has her walk interesting enough as she sets down the two bowls, plate and ales, "I do hope this is satisfactory for my lord." She looks to the chair but does not just sit down, waiting to see what he wants first.

"It beats ships' biscuits.", Arlen repeats, this time not even bothering with a smile. Since she's hovering, he nods towards the other chair. "WWell, it's a meal for two, isn't it? So take a seat. And remember what little breeding you had and introduce yourself?" He happily reaches for the ale and chugs back half of the cup's contents.

"Dwyn my lord, Dwyn Yestin" The young woman offers as she slides into the seat across from him and takes a tentative spoonful of the stew, "Not horrible I must admit." She comments idly and her eyes stay on him, a mix of wariness and interest.

"I see." Arlen's lip twitches a little, but he keeps his overall aloof demeanor. He tucks into his stew rather happily and has worked his way half-way through until he finally adresses her again. "So this is where you ply your trade?", he asks, a little gesture indicating the tavern.

A shake of her head, "I dance and play my instruments down by the docks." Dwyn eats a portion of the stew before wrapping small hands with long fingers around the ale mug and looking over towards him, "I am sure the owner here would rather not be insulted so my lord." She offers a quick with and a wry grin, the right half of her mouth turning upwards.

"I've seen worse around here. Much worse.", Arlen assures her, thawing slightly - whether because of the food, the ale or the company is unclair. He finishes his stew and pushes the bowl aside. "Perhaps I will come and see you… play your instruments one of the days.", he remarks casually.

Dwyn's lips curve up into a full smile as she leans forward at the table, showing off the low cut of her dress, "I would surely enjoy that my lord." She hasn't ask his name herself, nor has he supplied it, "I do also play a lovely guitarra, as well as other 'instruments'. You may enjoy my show." Her eyelashes bat towards the noble again as she takes a long pull off the ale and licks her lips,

He probably expects her to know who he is. Her obvious attempts to flirt make him smile a bit more and he nods. "Oh yes, I'm sure I would enjoy your instruments. You keep them well-polished and clean, I assume?"

"My lord you will not find a more respectful and polished musician." Dwyn's eyelashes flutter as she looks up to him from under them and then gives a musical sounding, girlish giggle. "I look forward to your patronage my lord." Her bright eyes roam over him despite his advanced age compared to her, use to older clients then younger anyways.

Well as they say, men are like wine. They don't get older, they get better. "We'll see about that.", Arlen replies, though the look in his eyes is less vague. He empties his ale and leans back in his seat. "You're a local girl? Don't think I've seen you before…" Like he could remember if he had.

"I have not been here all my life my lord, just for the last year or so." Dwyn's shoulders shrug and she leans back in her chair, folding one leg over the other in a practiced fashion, "I have not seen you myself either my lord, and I know I would not forget your face easily." She continues the flirtatious nature and runs a hand along her neck before tucking blonde hair behind her ear.

"I trust my face is not unforgettably heinous.", Arlen remarks dryly, a shadow of a smile flickering across his face, "I am not here often. My home is the sea. Unfortunately this -" He nods towards his injured leg, propped on a chair, "Compels me to remain ashore for a while."

Dwyn giggles again and shakes her head at this, "Oh no my lord, just plain unforgettable." She gives him a wry grin as she eyes travel to the leg and she makes a tsking noise, "Why do not worry my lord, it will not be a problem here on land." She gives him a meaningful look before leaning forward again and pick up the ale and take a small sip. Arlen is sitting at a table near the back of the tavern with stew, ale and bread for two and unexpected company.

"Well I am glad to hear that.", Arlen replies with a hint of sarcasm, "I was rather expecting it wouldn't." He has almost finished his frugal meal, only some bits of bread remaining now. But he doesn't seem in a hurry to depart. He's quite happy to remain seated and enjoy the view.

The door to the Bard's Tale opens, and another young woman enters. Airysse casts a glance about the place before she moves over to a table somewhere close to the one where Arlen and Dwyn are seated. Her red hair is worn in a braid, and the attire she reveals below that black woollen cloak is indeed of a fine quality - a dress of blue, plain, yet of quality fabric and competent making. Her gaze will linger on the two people for a moment, curiously yet friendly enough, before she will lower herself onto a chair. "Can I get a decent ale over here?", she calls next, revealing a surprisingly commoner's accent with a hint of Sutherland lilt. Her blue eyes glimpsing the barkeep and lingering for a moment on him, while she gives him a wink.

"Of course not my lord, I only meant I am a versatile musician." The double meaning in Dwyn's voice clear as she put down the ale to take another bit of the stew. Not at quick to finish at the noble, perhaps it's how she keeps her figure. The entrance of another woman has Dwyn's green eyes looking her over before they slide back to the noble across from her again, "Whenever you find time for me my lord, I shall make myself available." It's a sultry sounding promise from the resident whore before she winks and then looks to him leg again, "Did you injure yourself saving our lovely land from horrible men?"

"I see, wonderful", Arlen comments on her availability, though her last question makes him clam up. "Something like that. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.", he says and seems relieved when distraction arrives in the form of another young single woman. "Colleague of yours?", he asks Dwyn.

Airysse's gaze shifts from the barkeep to Dwyn and Arlen again, as she could not help but overhear his question. "Colleague?", she chuckles, her eyes studying the blonde woman curiously. "I don't know you, do I?" Even if Dwyn would have happened to visit the Bard's Tale some weeks ago she will hardly recognize the former serving girl - the dress, and the strikingly clean look about Airysse have changed her appearance indeed.

Dwyn gives Arlen a quick flash of a smile before she picks up the ale and finishes it off, "Oh no my lord." To Airysse she shakes her head, "No i ddo not work her Miss, just visiting." Standing up she curtsies to the older noble man in a practiced manner, as if she has experience with nobles before. "I must be going though unfortunately my lord, I thank you for the company and do hope we meet again." Her eyes linger on him before offering a wink and leaning in to whisper something in his ear before she turns for the door.

Dwyn mutters to Arlen, "… Repute my… the… I… you… me… send for… and… will…"

Arlen nods to Dwyn when she declares her intent to depart and nods again, this time with a slight smile, when she whispers something. "Alright, darling. Godspeed.", he says, then looks over to Airysse. He is well-versed enough in the ways of the world to know that her clothes are a bit too fine for a self-employed girl. But still, she's in a tavern on her own and that's enough to quirk a brow at her.

"You certainly don't work here," Airysse replies, looking amused - and bewildered as well. Dwyn's easy manner is noticed, and some of the whispered words even manage to reach the redhead's ears, she is after all not that far away from the pair. Blue eyes will follow the blonde as she moves to the door, Airysse's head tilted slightly to the side, her mien… thoughtful to say the least. Not that she has heard of the House of Repute yet, at least not by its name. That such a place exists, is known to her, of course.

Then her gaze will shift to the nobleman, and yes, her eyes are trained too to recognize the finer quality of his clothes. "The name's Airysse," she introduces herself, grabbing the mug of ale the barkeep has served to her as she moves over to Arlen's table. "Care if I join you for a bit?" Not that this would appear obtrusive… Yet this woman seems pretty new to the world of finer manners, even though she tries so hard to appear respectable.

"Well met, Airysse.", Arlen smiles faintly, "And you're welcome. It seems my present company has just left me alone. And I don't mind to rest my eyes on a pretty face. I get plenty little of that at sea."

"Oh, you're a man of the sea?", Airysse inquires, her lips curving into a smile. "A captain, I'd wager. Or an admiral even? You know, some weeks ago I met the High Admiral of that foreign country here, called himself Moniwid something." She chuckles, winking at Arlen as she takes a sip from her ale, keeping her hands to herself though. She is not /that/ flirtatious. In fact, her smile is a little dimmed, when she leans a bit in the noble's direction. "My lord Vuk, is a captain too, ya know. His ship is gone though." A sigh leaves her throat and she leans back in her chair, as the sympathy for 'her lord Vuk' shows in her comely features. Sympathy that needs to be drowned in another sip of ale.

She may not be that flirtatious but she sure as hell is chatty. She only gets a grumpy look though before he straightens in his seat somewhat. "I am Lord Arlen Kincaid, Commander of the Royal Navy.", he declares. He might sound a tad pompous. Comes with the title. Though when she talks about meeting a Moniwid, he perks slightly. "That must have been young Lord Estevan Moniwid, I trust?"

One hand moves to that shell pendant of her necklace, when Arlen introduces himself. "I am… overwhelmed, Lord Arlen. I didn't know the Commander of the Royal Navy… is such a charming fellow, I mean,… seeks out places as this one here," Airysse chuckles a bit awkwardly. Maybe it's that pompous look. His question is met with a nod. "Aye, Estevan he called himself. That was the name, yes." That fellow had been a bit younger, and maybe a touch more handsome than this Commander of the Royal Navy. Airysse's smile deepens when she recalls the Moniwid. "Aye, and he gave me a generous tip as well…"

Arlen seems to be mildly amused by her awkardness. "Estevan the Waverunner… a little boy playing with big ships.", he says dismissively. Handsomeness never won a naval battle. "A generous tip for… what?", he can't help asking, "You do not look like you ply the same trade as my former companion here. Though I'm sure there's good money in it for you"

Airysse's hand moves to cover her mouth when she realizes she has given herself away. "Oh dear, M'lord. You know… I used to work here, until very recently. Serving ale and such." Her cheeks turn a tad rosy when she makes that confession. The colour deepens even when Arlen continues. "The… same trade…? Now wait a minute…!" Indignation enters her tone now. "So that girl is what I think she is? What by Inouv is she thinking to come here? This is a respectable place…" Well, at least more respectable than that brothel some streets farther down.

Arlen listens with growing amusement to her. "You're pretty when you blush.", the navy man comments and reaches for his tankard to chug some ale down. "But don't get your panties in a twist about the girl. I invited her in with me. Thought I'd enjoy some pretty company over my breakfast. So you worked here. And now you do not?", he muses, fishing for more.

Airysse's eyes widen when Arlen mentions he has brought the blonde in after all, yet she cannot help but smile at his compliment. "You think so, eh? Some feel intimidated by my blushing." A soft chuckle leaves her. "Mistress Victoria, for example, doesn't like it at all." Another sip of ale is taken before Airysse continues. "Well, I got lucky. A good friend left town - which was a shame indeed, because I really liked her! But she left a vacant spot in the household of Aleksy Manor. I got hired, and now I am the caretaker of the place." She sets the mug of ale down onto the table, beaming at Arlen. "Now that's quite a rise in station, if you ask me, for a common serving girl like I used to be."

"Indeed.", Arlen comments her bubbly tale in a rather monosyllabic manner. "Though I guess wiping tables and bringing ale to the nobility is not all that different in a private estate, isn't it? Perhaps eventually you will move on to a proper mansion here in the city?" Apparently he doesn't think all that much of Aleksy Manor. "One of the Aleksys serves as a Lieutenant about the Indomitable.", he adds by way of information.

"Well… yes… Although being a housekeeper is a more respectable position, isn't it?", Airysse replies, looking a bit puzzled at Arlen's dimmed reaction. But then again, he's a noble. And the commander of the Royal Fleet. Ants look tiny and insignificant to an eagle that flies high above them. "Ooh, is that your ship?", she inquires at the remark about the Aleksy. "But that can't be, actually. Lord Vuk is the last of his line, and there aren't any others left. So the House will fade, it seems…" Her face clouds a bit when she mentions that, before her hand moves once again to cover her mouth. "Oh dear. I'm pretty talkative today, am I not? I should better leave… Has been a pleasure, Lord Arlen." She rises, hands smoothening her blue skirts. A few patins are tossed onto the table, the payment for her own ale. Her mien is friendly when she offers a curtsey to the Kincaid, less graceful than that of Dwyn, but already far better than the one she had managed when she had entered service at Aleksy manor some 10 days ago. "Maybe you'd like to pay my lord a visit? He certainly can use a friend, especially now. Maybe you are in need of a captain for one of your ships?" She giggles, pleased with her idea as she moves towards the exit.

"There's a long line of lieutenants waiting to be promoted to captain.", Arlen replies dryly and inclines his head to her when she makes her departure. "Godspped, Mistress." Once she's gone, he finishes his own ale, reveling in the blissful silence. Then he scrambles to his feet with a sigh, leaning on his crutch, and hobbles home.

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