The Hatted Rabbit Tavern and Inn. That's the sign hanging outside one of the busier taverns built in the same neighbourhood as the Great Bazaar. There might be some humor behind the painted sign, something of a rabbit wearing a feathered Hat - these were all the rage in Pieros of late. The sign was new, a fresh coat! Whatever the namesake came from, the place was thrumming. There had been plenty of new faces in the City, piling in off ships from all over the Arvum. The inns and taverns all throughout the city were packed and very few had rooms left, and the few that did, set outrageous prices, practically extortion! Though that's the way of economics in a city suddenly bursting at the seams with foreigners! Some places, were better accommodating than others.

The Bazaar itself was still teaming. People were buying provisions! All sorts of things were swiftly going out of stock, even simple things like unembellished flask had become exceptionally rare to find. Knock-offs and poor quality items were selling just as quickly as those which were laboured over and perfected. Bread also sold as fast as it could be made in the baker's ovens, cobblers were mending shoes in a fury of orders, armorsmiths and blacksmiths working together to repair gear or send common quality stuff out to the ships. There was no stopping in the thriving market of War. Some say, its the best time to be a Craftsperson. Somesay it's the best time to wish they had a Trade. Though mesesngers are in high demand as well, as much as greenhorns were for the ships, and everything in between. One couldn't go two feet without noticing the hustle and bustle that was becoming the living and breathing back bone of the great war engine.

Orland had some time on his hands, so was out with a few people he met along the way, or those he knew from before. He was loitering outside the Hatted Rabbit, "Hmm. Does the rabbit look like me?" Orland tilts his head, to no one in particular, but he assumed Raven was close enough near by to remark upon it.

Raven checks strength at hard. Raven is successful.

Raven is shorter and slighter than most hauling barrels from a black-sailed ship in the distance but she doesn't seem burdened by it as she stops near a merchant selling huge bags of sort of dry goods. She straitens and stretches, smacking one of the reaver's in the back, "Next time don't argue just do it, eh?" She then turns at what sounded like a familiar voice, "Orland?" She hops up on the barrel ignoring the merchant's irritated look as she turns in place to see over the crowd.

Balnam, who was now tagging along with Orland, shakes his head with a flat tone, "Not unless you have two pointed ears and a button nose."
Orland side glances at Balnam, "But you know, he did paint it like I told him too. I like his choice. It's witty." He's about to offer to go in with Balnam to catch a drink or two, though overhears his name being called, stretching up on his tippy toes and waving his hat in the air.
Balnam notes, "He should've called it the Mad Hatter."
Orland pops back down and hahs, "There's still time to change it. The paint looks fresh!"
"I doubt he'll care too."
"But if an _Ivory Shield_ makes the suggestion, he probably would."
"And have him revert to the Mad Shield? No thank you."
"Ahhh come on Balnam, we've been poisoned together. You don't think I'd let any old tavern older make fun of you, do you?"
"Is that your friend?" Balnam changes the topic.
"Is it? Which one?" Pop up on his toes, "Raaaaaven is that you!!"

If anyone hadn't figured it out yet, there's two ways to find Zakhar. Either listen for the swearing, or find the plume of smoke that is being puffed off of the tall man that is sharing his thoughts of the world and boats, though more specifically boats.

He turns a little when hearing two voices that sound familiar, then waves them off to possibly going mad and finds a building to lean against while puffing away.

Raven points a finger, almost accusingly, towards Orland, "HAH! I thought I heard child-like musings!" She hops down and pauses to murmur softly to the Reaver that'd accompanied her before darting through the foot traffic towards Orland. She comes to a stop and again sizes out the Whiteshield wordlessly but critically before her gaze swings to Orand, "You got what I gave you?"

Cecilia enters. She walks with her nonchalant air. Her sea gray eyes looking about with eagerness of interesting fun. Cecilia's dress makes her look like a Lycene Noble and her hair a self contained mess of curls and hair pins. Immediately she goes for the wine before sizing up how to enter the fray.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: The Hatted Rabbit Tavern and Inn. That's the sign hanging outside one of the busier taverns built in the same neighbourhood as the Great Bazaar. There might be some humor behind the painted sign, something of a rabbit wearing a feathered Hat - these were all the rage in Pieros of late. The sign was new, a fresh coat! Whatever the namesake came from, the place was thrumming. There had been plenty of new faces in the City, piling in off ships from all over the Arvum. The inns and taverns all throughout the city were packed and very few had rooms left, and the few that did, set outrageous prices, practically extortion! Though that's the way of economics in a city suddenly bursting at the seams with foreigners! Some places, were better accommodating than others.

The Bazaar itself was still teaming. People were buying provisions! All sorts of things were swiftly going out of stock, even simple things like unembellished flask had become exceptionally rare to find. Knock-offs and poor quality items were selling just as quickly as those which were laboured over and perfected. Bread also sold as fast as it could be made in the baker's ovens, cobblers were mending shoes in a fury of orders, armorsmiths and blacksmiths working together to repair gear or send common quality stuff out to the ships. There was no stopping in the thriving market of War. Some say, its the best time to be a Craftsperson. Somesay it's the best time to wish they had a Trade. Though mesesngers are in high demand as well, as much as greenhorns were for the ships, and everything in between. One couldn't go two feet without noticing the hustle and bustle that was becoming the living and breathing back bone of the great war machine.

Raven checks strength at hard. Raven marginally fails.

Orland turns to Raven, deadpan, expressionless, "How marvelous that you have a mother's ear for finding your wayward children. Isn't that something that seals do?" He notes, "But you forgot to go 'Or Or Or Or'... and slap your arms together." Balnam refrains from saying anything but he does seem to be storing that one in his mind for later. He notes, "I'll get us a table." And the Ivory Shield is stepping inside the Hatted Rabbit. Orland nods at Raven, "Yes I did, you practically shoved it down my shirt."

Orland spots a Lycene Noble coming by with a glass of wine already in hand, making sure to note of Cecilia, "Now -she- is doing it right. Walking the Bazaar, drink in hand? What better way is there to frolick around a new place."

It is impossible - or rather extremely unwise - for a House Pravus Voice to travel Pieros discreetly. The risk of assassins, visible and invisible, is too great. So Adrienne walks with her escort of six guards, one at her side, two ahead, and three behind, encased in a bubble that makes her seem apart from the bazaar's vibrant chaos. Music catches her ear. Her head swivels at muted song from within the Hatted Rabbit. Her guard makes a /"Shall we?"/ gesture with one hand, but he looks less-than-happy that the princess wants to go into the middle of a crowded and confined room. Adrienne nods and slips inside to enjoy the entertainment.

Raven snorts indelicately, "Gods help us all if I ever breed. IT's not my fault you sound like a child when your mouth moves." her gaze narrows at Orland and she steps in, "You think I won't send you for another swim or that HE-" She jerks a thumb at Orland's guard, "-Is gonna bother to stop me?" her jade gaze searching Orland to see how funny he finds it now, comparing her to a blubbery sack of fishstink and poop.

There's the voices again, though through the crowd Zakhar is failing to see if it really is Orland and Raven. He starts muttering to himself as he pushes off of the building that he was obviously holding up and heads towards the tavern.

Zakhar mutters, "Stinking sheeps, ... ta l'rg death'trip dat ... ... ... onna 'effs. ... Tis ... ye Orl'd? Nae, ... t'us da ... 'eff ... sheep. 'rinks. ... ... whuts needs."

The Hatted Rabbit looks to have undergone a recent rennovation! The old scabby walls have been done over with new wood panels and some slapadash artwork, some of which are rabbits wearing the new fashion trend hat! It's a thing. Stools and bench seats have new coverings, the floor looks to have been polished up, the bar top has a fresh stain on it, there's a lovely smell of clover in the place, potted plants that could probably feed a rabbit or two, and some mounted rabbit heads also wearing cute little renditions of the latest trend. It's a little much, but at least its full, hosts some music, has the drinks flowing... and tends to serve the needs of those who are a little jittery with nerves.

Orland reaches forward and SHOULDER Punches Raven. This is a thing, going forward Raven, it is a thing. He smirks while doing it. "Balnam would probably stop you. I saved his life, in a way that killed another." He sharp shrugs and looks to the massive group that parts the crowd like a prow of a mighty ship. "I think that's..." And he yanks Raven back a step, before the large escort gets near them. "Princess Adrienne!" Orland hails with his hat jolting up in the air, like a flag for Zakhar to see, and Cecilia too. "The party is inside! Might even be a good JIG to dance too tonight!"

Raven checks composure at normal. Raven is successful.

Cecilia smiles as she hears Orland. Raising her drink in a cheer she calls out. "Will you be in there as well? Or will the inside be deprived of your presence?"

Raven looks at her shoulder when it's punched, then looks at Orland, "You understand anyone but you and a select few does that I'm liable to break someone's limbs, right? Try not to set others up for failure, kid." She turns and her eyebrows shoot up, chortlingly, "OH. my." she chortles again and smirks sidelong at Orland, "I'm just going to go get a drink so you two can enjoy each other's company." She flutters her lashes at Orland before the expression wipes clear and she offers a polite, "M'lady." she bits in parting to Cecilia.

Adrienne's closest guard turns a murderous look in Orland and Balnam's direction while opening the door. It is his job to do so. Adrienne looks more perplexed, unaccustomed to having her name shouted out loudly enough to wake the dead. "Orland. Raven?" A slender brow arches and her tone serves to set the guards at ease. "Hello. I didn't take you for dancers." Her humor is subtle but present in corner of her mouth. Finding herself standing in the middle of the street, accosted and now rather obliged to go inside the curious tavern, Adrienne clears her throat and nods to the guards to continue. A pale gaze takes in Cecilia, lovely in her Lyceneness of the moment, dips politely as she finds - to everyone's absolute surprise - that an empty table is available near a weathered, gray-bearded bard.

Zakhar is watching the crowds as he slips between the crowd, then there's a familiar feathered hat rising above the crowd. At first he shakes his head, must be another damn hallucination. Though as he gets closer to the group he's pretty sure that these people are actually here. "Hallo Or'nd, Rav'n." He turns to other two, nodding the mix of guards with a silly smile.

Orland lays a quiet smirk, one that screams he's winning when Raven doesn't punch him back or anything, "Would you rather I kiss your cheeks instead? Like the Lycene do? Or maybe I'll goose ya, since I'm so childish..." He moves to PINCH her bottom but only in threat, because there's a Lady and a Princess standing by. He wipes his face off of all mischief with Raven, answering Cecilia first, "Yes, I think Balnam has secured a table! Might be a little close quarters, though, my Lady but you're welcome to join!" He hears a strange language, an accent that's familiar, "Wait. Zak?" ZAKHAR, here?! That's puzzling. Did he just think he heard it. BUT Adrienne has his eye again. "I hope you weren't hiding, Your Highness," he bows his head without remorse over his yelling. Straightening up, he blinks again, "By the Abyssal's nut, if I had known you were on your way down to Pieros, I would've told you to come earlier. Could've used your help. Good to see you." But then he's ushering people inside. They'll all fit, no worries.

The nut remark, clearly to Zakhar.

Adrienne glances fleetingly over her shoulder. Did he just... ah, he's speaking to the old one. Carry on.

Cecilia dismisses the sound of the strange language. Though she does take note of it. Instead she takes a seat at Orland's table. "Thank you." She says warmly before introducing herself. "Lady Cecilia Kennex. Pleasure to meet you."

"I will stay and listen," Adrienne tells her guard who does not need to say a word as he looks over the many heads in the room to communicate his dissatisfaction with the setting. Still he and the others work efficiently to find her a path to 'her' table. The wizened bard flashes a grin her way. He's missing two teeth but it seems to not impact his singing, a growling and low baritone that suits him. People in the tavern reposition, mosquitos to fresh meat, jostling to find an opening to petition the Pravus Voice for whatever-it-is-they-need-right-now.

Raven pauses and turns, "Ah, Fancy seeing you here, Old timer. Come on a mission or just to see what the fuss is about?" her head swivels towards Adrienne and blinks, looking abashed to have been caught so unawares. She bows, "Your highness, good day. Were you in search of something?" and more surprise as her gaze turns to Cecilia, "Ah, another Kennex? We are fortunate for company this evening."

Inside and to the table Balnam was holding down, which happens to be next to the one that Adrienne's guards clear out for her. Might as well be a big booth by the looks of it. Orland settles in with the rest, nodding his thanks to Balnam, as his eyes turn to the guards, on in particular, that seems to have merited a promotion. "I recognize that one, even if he scowled at me..." Because Orland is the only one who can scowl positively at people. Eyes flick back to Cecilia, "Good to meet you Lady Cecilia, I'm Lord Orland Amadeo, this is Raven the Blackheart, and this old fella, is Zakhar. Princess Adrienne is over at the other table, but I think we should pull our tables together..." he whispers none too whisperly.

Zakhar blinks, not a hallucination. Really Orland and Raven. He taps his nose as Raven asks him what he's doing here.
As he enters the tavern he's looking around at the crowd and those that Orland has been herding towards a saved table. He pushes his cloak to the side to allow the uniquely shapped twin axes to be highly visible on his back. The cloak is mostly covering his right side where additional belts can be seen before disappearing under the fabric of the cloak, though with his movement there's hints to another weapon underneath. The old man takes his helmet off revealing his thick snow-white hair and making the scar that sits in the middle of his face more visable without the visor of the helm blocking it.
Zakhar takes a seat and is still holding his silly smile while listening to the introductions. He takes the smoke from his lip as Orland introduces him to Princess Adrienne, offering a small nod.

Adrienne squints at Orland's /very subtle/ whispers but the glance she lets drift that way lingers and holds on Zakhar. His face is interesting to her, and he finds himself unluckily subject to her blunt and intrusive study. At the end she nods kindly. The gaze turns again, more curiously this time, to the doesn't-look-like-a-Kennex. "Welcome to Pieros Lady Cecilia. We are glad to have House Kennex here."

Oddly, despite Raven's polite question and Orland's /so very subtle/ hint, Adrienne makes no move to join the others. She could. Instead, she slightly angles her chair /away/ from their revelery and refocuses on the bard.

"On the count of three," Orland says lightly to those at the table, "Let's shift the table..."

Zakhar checks perception and etiquette at normal. Zakhar is marginally successful.

Cecilia grins at the Princess. "I'm glad to be welcomed. I have found much kindness within House Pravus and your fealty." When Orland counts to three she helps move the table.

Raven bows politely to Cecilia, "I have had the honor to meet a few of your kin, an honor to meet you Lady Cecilia." She steps out of the table and helps to move the table with the others.

Zakhar returns a gaze to Adrienne, then after helping to move tables together he gets up from his seat to join the Princesses' end of the combined tables. Sliding into the seat across from her, the smoke being put back into his lip. "Hallo Nob'es Pravus Adrienne. P'les're ta meetsya."

And just like that, their table slides up against Adriennes. Orland is giving Adrienne the most winning smile for it too, as well as her guards. Balnam tries to ease the tensions with a hand lifted up, claiming friendly terms. Brawls have been known to break out over lesser things.

In a way the table maneuvers save Adrienne. The mosquitos reconsider their approach. She is no longer alone. Exhaling silently, Adrienne turns again to include the others within her view, a bit perplexed but patient and kind.

The gray-bearded bard garbles out something that is largely unintelligible, but ends with "... whiskey!" and then he's stomping out some kind of a tune while striking at his lute.

Her guards have enough to do. At least these faces are known. "Won't you sit?" asks Adrienne as though this was all her idea. "Your name is Zak," she adds to Zakhar. "What brings you here?"

Cecilia smiles at Raven and bows her head back. "I have some great kin. I love them all." She says with her usual calm and unhurried tone. "This is my first time in Pieros. I'm anxious to look about."

Raven lifts an eyebrow, "You are here without personal attendants, My lady?" she asks of Cecilia, "What is it that you are hoping to see? I cannot imagine there is much to sight see at present with the preparations."

Zakhar leans across the table a little mentions something in a hushed tone to Adrienne, then leaning back speaks to the group "Achs, 'ta lil'ts sights ta sees."

Orland is smiling, in a fashion that has his eyes batting down and his toothy grin fall away to a more private smirk. PRIVATE, in a public setting. Something is going on but then he clears his throat and looks over toward the bard, "WOW, that was--" he starts to clap his hands, "wow! Brilliant.. " He hard slow claps and head shakes like he couldn't believe what he just heard.

Straining to hear Zakhar, Adrienne nods once before saying with a glance that encompasses Zakhar and Cecilia both, "Perhaps when the fleet is repelled we might revisit Pieros in better days. The palace is worth seeing, and I've lacked opportunity to properly appreciate it." Says she, sitting in a tavern. Sweat glistens at Adrienne's temples. "It's difficult not to enjoy the energy of the city, however." She sounds far too placid to be enjoying energy of any kind but would an Oathlander lie?

Also: the Valardin fixes a long and steady look at Orland, features inscruitable. Then she flicks her gaze skyward in a "Limerance give me patience" way.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 67 higher. Zakhar rolled a critical!

Cecilia nods to the Princess. "I will have to sneak aboard a ship again to visit." She teases though her tone is light her eyes look more mischievous. She then sips her wine and looks over the group. "Did I hear there would be dancing?"

The Hatted Rabbit looks to have undergone a recent rennovation! The old scabby walls have been done over with new wood panels and some slapadash artwork, some of which are rabbits wearing the new fashion trend hat! It's a thing. Stools and bench seats have new coverings, the floor looks to have been polished up, the bar top has a fresh stain on it, there's a lovely smell of clover in the place, potted plants that could probably feed a rabbit or two, and some mounted rabbit heads also wearing cute little renditions of the latest trend. It's a little much, but at least its full, hosts some music (from a very drunk bard), has the drinks flowing... and tends to serve the needs of those who are a little jittery with nerves.

Thankfully there might be a bard in the audience ... who can do a better job? Or a fresher one that had his time paid in drinks. All the matter, the energy is continuing, people calling for more music, good or bad.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Orland before departing.

Raven frowns at Orland and rises, rather than repremand the young noble, "No need to sneak, my lady. Once this grim business is dealt with trade should return to normal I am certain." her gaze seeks Adrienne's "Your highness, my your leave, I should return to the errands that brought me ashore."

Adrienne answers Cecilia with a look of deep humor to Raven, "I think we can secure a Lady Kennex proper transport. I'll send one for you myself if needs must." Her head tilts respectfully to the Blackheart. "We'll speak soon. I want to go ranging." Over her shoulder, a guard's mouth tightens.

What Leporidae (or esteemed vassal thereof) could resist a tavern referencing Rabbits?

Not this one! Whether Savio can resist any tavern ever is a subject surely of some debate, but regardless, he is here, ambling in through the door with a mandolin strapped to his back with a familiarity that suggests the small instrument may habitually go many places with him. There are a number of familiar faces here, enough that Savio greets, "Hello hello helloooo," to all and sundry. He clasps Raven briefly on the arm as she taps out and he taps in, a friendly, fond sort of gesture.

Afterward, just inside the door, a moment is spent studying the rabbit heads. Huh.

Raven frowns at Adrienne's announcement, not looking any more pleased than Adrienne's guards about this news, "I will go with you." IT's not a question. She bows, "Lovely to meet you My lady Cecelia, take care Zakhar, M'lord." She has stepped out just missing Savio, sadly.

"Did someone say dancing?" Calla says as she wanders up on the group gathered, smiling to Adrienne, Cecilia, Orland and Raven in turn. "I could go for some of that myself." Then, upon spying Savio, the Baroness grins to him as well.

Zakhar sits back into the chair, then there's a quick flash of a small pouch being thrown at Orland as he smiles to the young man. A little puff on his smoke has the blue smoke that typically follows him wafting into the air. He nods to Raven as she leaves, then is raising his hand in greetings to Savio.

Orland considers for a while, then notes to Raven, "You need to unwind a bit more. We just got started." Though he's not going to be stopping her either if she insists on leaving. He leans back in his chair, watches her go, but in doing so, watches another in. "Ooooooh, good timing. We're in need of a replacement for that one---" he gestures toward the bard who was singing very badly because of all the booze given to him. Then he's catching a pouch which make his eyebrows pop up, said pouch stuffed away rather quickly. "Yes, dancing..." he gestures toward Savio, "The perfect opportunity to dance, has arrived."

Dio checks command and intimidation at normal. Dio is successful.

The door to the Hatted Rabbit bursts open and a large man falls onto the floor, while Dio Seraceni stands over him, with his sword an inch from the man's throat. "You said they were tempered steel arrowheads, Mate. They're fucking tin." The man stammers, and his eyes roll through the room looking for help. Several Seraceni sailors step in behind Dio. "My sailor's lives are on the line, Borios. Time to make an ex -" Dio's eyes rise at the mention of 'Kennex'. "P...princess Adrienne," says Dio, quickly sheathing his blade, a slight flush of color touching his olive cheeks. Glancing around the inn, he touches his hat in salute to Orland, before his gaze falls on Cecilia. His mouth opens, but he says nothing for a moment, before turning to Anne, and saying in a furious whisper, "Get him back to his warehouse and see what he's done with the quality ammunition. If he's reluctant to show you, start with the toes."

A weathered, gray-bearded bard beats out his song while singing in a gruff baritone, well pitched and largely unintelligible. Meanwhile, chairs scrape and people reshuffle and Adrienne Pravus's six guards watch it all in a way destined to keep her at least slightly segmented from her table, despite the close quarters and gregarious company.

Twelve pairs of hostile eyes turn on Dio from around Adrienne. But he is known and that hostile gaze turns instead to the man who has earned the Marquis Seraceni's ire. Adrienne, too, half-rises, palms pressed flat to the table with a knit-brow look of concern.

On the small stage, the bard cackles and toasts Dio.

Cecilia orders another round of wine as she hears the familiar sounds of the Pirate Marquis. She raises her new glass in a silent cheer before standing to greet the man. "We were talking about dancing... do you dance Marquis?" She tries to lighten the mood unable to do anything about the ammunition issues.

Orland checks composure at normal. Orland is successful.

"Whaaaaat," Savio greets Orland, drawing the word out as he wanders over, "I just got here and you're putting me to work? The nerve of it!" Still, he doesn't seem to mind all that much. It'd be the rare bard what refuses a spotlight, and he finds a random chair to pour himself into. "Buy me a drink though." They're going to trade one drunk bard for another. "If people want to dance, I can make music. Hey, old timer!" This is just said yelled across the bar at the other bard. "You want a break or what?" Gotta clear it with him!

"Wait, wait! Your Highness!" shrieks Borios, as Anne and Taro set hands on him, and half drag him out of the inn. "Lord Oooorlllllannnndddd~" The door closes. Dio removes his hat and bows to Adrienne from where he's standing, before making his way to the bar beside Savio. He lays a handful of silver on the counter and says, "Rum" to the tender. When it's passed his way, he raises it to the bard.

When Cecilia greets him, Dio smiles and says, "Very poorly, but I enjoy it very much." His eyes rest on the Lady of Stormward for a moment, and he says, "What in the Abyss are you doing here, My Lady?"

Orland nods to Calla and was about to greet her when Dio barrels someone through the door. The Amadeo Lordling rises from his chair and applauds the scene, "How's that for entertainment!" He nods his head, clapping, adding to the noise of the drunken bard on stage and perhaps helping disarm everyone else as well. How many weapons were visible right then, in the many hands in the tavern? Probably more than you see!! He tilts his head at the shrieking Borios, "Do tell them to be a little less hard on him. He's only trying to make a living."

To Savio the weathered, gray-bearded man grumbles something with a grin that shows off two missing teeth and seems to have a lot of 'fecks' and 'fecking' and 'feck yeahs' intermixed in there somewhere. He beckons the too-sober peer in bardery to the stage.

Cecilia twitch her lips in a wry grin. "You will have to save me a dance. As for what I am doing here.... I wanted to be here so I came." She says to Dio as if she is telling him the weather. It was all just matter of fact. Cecilia takes another sip of wine before motioning towards Orland and Adrienne. "I'm glad I have. The company here is wonderful."

Zakhar was either not paying any attention to the door or wasn't impressed by the screams, or it was as he might tell another, just another day in a long line of similar days for his position. The old man does however give a smile and a nod to Savio, then turn back to start a conversation with Adrienne, "Yer det'al, dey seem 'ery t'used ta ail dis."

A bright look passes from one of Adrienne's guards to Zakhar. /Isn't that the truth?/ it seems to say. Slowly, Adrienne retakes her seat. Dio's troubles are dragged outside and it's hardly the time for a tribunal. Her pale and golden gaze returns to Zakhar with momentary confusion, clearly trying to catch up on what was said to her. "They are. More than they would want to be, I wager." Fondness slips in, regardless, for the guards she's spent so many weeks resenting. "How do you know Orland and Raven?"

"If he wasn't dealing in weapons we're relying on to survive, I'd let it slide for your sake, My Lord," says Dio to Orland, placing a hand on the nobleman's shoulder, if he'll allow it. The marquis looks tired, worn, stressed - far more so than usual. "I wouldn't worry. I don't think it'll come to violence." He takes a long drink from his rum, and grins at Cecilia. "I'm glad you have too," he says, "and I'm happy to dance - but my steps are slow and graceless even when I'm sober." Dio's attention passes to Savio and the bard.

"Aw, I love him," Savio decides of the missing-toothed feck-yeah bard that proceeded him. He takes the other man's place, tests a few notes, then launches into a little tune about Dio ruining some guy's day at the door.

"Come and hear a warning, boys
About a man trying to sell tin toys
'Ah, arrowheads! Won't you buy so many
Noble lord of Seraceni?'

You shouldn't try to roll a lord
Who's sharp with his wits and sharper with a sword
That man's learned a lesson, I grant
Now he'll have to change his pants

Be honest and we'll get along just fine
Pravosi are lovely and our coin's divine
Try to sell shit as something glorious?
Best think twice or we'll do you like Borios."

It's so jaunty!

I mean, Borios probably won't like it but who cares about him?

Dio is overheard praising Savio: Greatest bard in the world.

Orland is overheard praising Savio: Why isn't he a household name?

"WHAGARBLIM," declares the weathered bard, who pounds his foot in a staunch percussion along with Savio's song. It seems to roughly translate to: "Aw I love him." The bard rumbles harmoniously below Savio's singing, hangs an arm around Savio's shoulders, and cackles again at the door with a drink in hand.

Adrienne turns a slow and fascinated look from Zakhar to Savio. And watches.

Cecilia is overheard praising Savio.

"Savio should be at every battlefield so we can hear his bardic songs..." Orland puts out there.

When Savio starts his tune, Dio bows to Cecilia in the slow elegant manner of the Lycene court, and offers her a hand. "May I have this dance?" Then the lyrics sink in, and Dio laughs in a way that seems to totally shift his mood. He beams at Savio, and touches his heart in salute.

The old man flashes his silly grin and offers a nod to the guard, then lowers his gaze upon Adrienne simply answering with "Fri'nds frum taverns and swims lessons."

Cecilia curtsies in a very Lycene court manner. "Of course." She says before taking his hand. "I thought you would never ask." She winks at Dio before taking the floor. She hands off her wine glass as she does so.

Savio does not at all mind the percussion, rumbling, or arm around his shoulders from his bard-bro, and flashes Orland an ostentatious wink for his battlefield comment while the chorus shaming Borios provides a steady tune to dance to! A big grin follows as Dio's mood seems to shift -- ah, this is what bards are for, and what they live for, that right there. Purpose fulfilled.

"I take requests!" Savio offers in case anyone else wants song subject matter on one thing or another, and the tune shifts into a reel, fun to dance to!

Adrienne checks command and leadership at normal. Adrienne is successful.

Zakhar draws Adrienne back from her rapt study of this peculiar rhyming bard garbed in steelsilk. She raises a delicate hand to beckon for a server. In a crowded bar. Somehow it works. She slides a small purse free from a slot in the bracer on her right arm and hands it to the server with a few words. To Zakhar, Adrienne observes, "You are lucky in your friends. Swimming lessons?" A slender brow arches.

The server cuts through the crowd to deliver the purse to Savio with "Princess Adrienne's compliments".

Dio checks dexterity and performance at easy. Dio is successful.

Cecilia checks charm and performance at easy. Cecilia is successful.

Orland is content now, that Savio has become the entertainment, clearly enjoyed by all. He settles back into his seat and loses all that emotion that has played over his face. Instead he's wearing a rather aloof appearance now, haunted a little, which Balnam registers but doesn't point out. Balnam knows that look. Orland side glances at the Ivory Shield and shrugs. Then he's lighting up, a cigarillo spliced with haze.

Cecilia's knowledge of the Lycene mannerisms causes Dio to smile. He takes her hand in his, and sweeps her into a dance, following the time of Salvio's music. His steps are simple, but he seems to be enjoying himself as he glides with his partner across the floor.

Cecilia glides easily with Dio's steps to the music. Keeping up she laughs at the good fun she's having as the dance picks.

Savio doesn't even have a tip jar set out, and there's a pouch of coins headed his way! It's received with a surprised laugh, and it's up to bard-bro to keep the rhythm going for a moment as he accepts the gift, then bows deeply to Adrienne in the way one should to Royalty, then he straightens and touches both hands to his lips before lifting them outward, mwah, like a blown kiss. Exactly the way one should not, to royalty. Probably. What does he know, he has an Etiquette score of -12. The mandolin is picked up again, tune revived as he plots the next ditty. "Maybe we should have a tune about... Zakhar?"

Zakhar grins a little, "Ay. Sw'mming." he then mimics wadding water, "Be'ts ta sw'm den sink, eh?" He glances over to Savio, "De ye werst!"

"ZAKHAR!" echoes the weathered bard. Somehow Zakhar's name fits his garbled accent perfectly. He, too, blows a missing-toothed kiss toward Adrienne in mirror to Savio. (For her part, Adrienne's slender shoulders shake with silent, suppressed laughter.)

"Does your family know you are Pieros?" Dio asks Cecilia quietly as he dances. "When I saw you, I half expected Princess Adrienne had contacted you and your kin to inform them I'd outlived my usefulness." Something the lady says to him brings a smile to his features. "That won't be a problem," he says in reply. When the music stops, Dio bows to Cecilia and walks beside her back to the bar, while Salvio and Zakhar decide the next melody.

"As you say, friend," Adrienne replies to Zakhar, not pressing for details. There's caution, albeit amused, in the way she looks between Zakhar and Savio. "You're a brave man to taunt a bard."

Cecilia shakes her head. "I doubt they know I'm missing." She says with a laugh. "If I was brought here to kill you I doubt you would mind my means." She winks at him as she gets another drink, this time a vodka. "Good to know." She replies back.

"Eh? Savio?" Zakhar offers a small grin with what could be considered a laugh, "Nae, tis a pups compar'son ta sum Ay've faced width. Bards 'till fall ta samesies." He lightly touches the scar on his face, "Or, we 'ust kick oots a danceys."

Savio laughs as Adrienne mentions taunting the bard. "No, no, he's a friend, of course! It'll be a very flattering song! I only write rude songs about Giorgio, because he's my brother and deserves it." Without further ado, the Zakhar song commences, also quite dance-able.

"Do you know Zakhar? Well you ought to, hey
He's a tough old man tryin' to convey
Something I don't know through a righteous accent
I think I got what he more or less meant?

He's a generous, here's the shirt off his back
Did you know it's also one he's craft?
That's right friends, he works leather too
Whatever you want, Zakhar can do

Of course my favorite part, sets my heart ablaze
Is that man's ALWAYS got some haze
No stems no sticks no seeds it's potent
So much I forgot where my inn keys went

Do you know Zakhar? Well you ought to, alright
He's had an interesting life and he's good in a fight
Sure half the time we don't know what he said
But there's nobody better to listen to instead!"

"Buy him a drink!" Savio adds in a cheer for the end.

Zakhar is overheard praising Savio: De be'ts bards, t'will oots yer skillys, den praiseys as 'well.

"I would enjoy watching you dance," Adrienne says to Zakhar with an Oathlander's gallantry, a hint of sparkle to her pale eyes. "It also seems you were correct." This comes after Savio's song, her attention fond throughout. Rising, Adrienne squeezes closer to Orland's chair to murmur something to him, gaze lowered.

Upon Raven's return, she will be unsurprised to find Savio... Savio-ing. He's not sober and he's made a new best friend in some drunk-ass other bard, he's performing ridiculous impromptu ditties, and really this is all very on brand for him. The music continues!

Dio takes up his rum again, and takes a sip, nearly choking on it as Savio sings of Zakhar. He laughs beside Cecilia. "My Lady," he says to the golden-haired Kennex, "have you met Lord Orland?" The marquis gestures to Orland with his nearly finished rum glass.

Zakhar listens to Savio then is standing on the bench to be seen over the crowd, because apparently its hard to spot the six-foot four old man with the plume of white hair. He's clapping hard against his chest armor with his free hand as he holds an ale up with his other hand. "Per'fiction Savio!"

Raven steps back in, damp with persperation, her tanned visage sporting a bit of a burn, she's been hard at work it seems. She blink-blinks at Savio's ditty and her thin lips curve upwards and she gives a good natured eyeroll and shake of her head.

Orland had been sitting with his head tilted down so his hair fell into his eyes, smoking a spliff. He was well into the background, which served him well enough. He murmurs something to Adrienne, which was probably sarcasm as it came without any playful smiles. His eyes lift when Dio brings back the Lady Kennex, giving a quick shake of his head to scatter his hair to the sides of his face, "We've met. My Lord."

Cecilia laughs and shakes her head. "I'm afraid we met in passing before pressing two tables together. Though I know of him and he knows of my kin.... as everyone seems to, I don't know him as well as I should." She finishes her vodka almost like she's a practiced drinker.

Misschief, a young silvery marmoset arrives, delivering a message to Dio before departing.

Adrienne's mouth tightens at Orland's initial reply, that probable sarcasm and smile-absent quip. Otherwise placid, she straightens with a brief touch to his shoulder and a few words in parting. Her gaze follows Orland's to Cecilia. "You are a lovely dancer, Lady Kennex. I hope you'll remember my offer of a ship when all this is done." Whatever ships might be left to them, her tone implies.

Savio laughs as Zakhar rates the song a Per'fiction. "It can't be that perfect, they're supposed to be buying you drinks!" he replies, over the sound of the music he's still playing -- nothing too hard, familiar tunes that come easily and have a steady rhythm to help out the dancers.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 17 higher.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Savio before departing.

Dio nods to Orland, and says to Cecilia, "You two have much in common - fearless and a taste for adventure." The marquis slams the rest of his rum, and gestures to the bartender for more.

Orland tilts his head at Dio's perspective, "That is indeed, much in common." Even Dio gets the sarcasm tonight.

Cecilia nods and smiles to Adrienne, "thank you on both accounts. I'm sure my family will feel better that I have proper passage for my way home." That is when Mary comes in. The Companion whispers something in Cecilia's ear and the Lady nods. "If you will excuse me. There are some issues with my bags." Mischievously she kisses Dio on the cheek if he allows it before she takes off.

Savio takes a moment to train his percussionist (the other, more drunk bard) into a different tune, and then shifts into a sea-shanty he'd written earlier, about just this military event. This one is a little less silly, determined but melancholy, a steady beat that seems designed for rowing -- and hints at the notion that the author might have experience with the same.

"Oh, we're sailing hard for the southern seas
Hey, hey, pull away! Sail away hard boys, never look home
We'll bring Skal'daja to its knees
Pull away hard boys, never look home..."

It continues as it was written in the white journals, variations on the first verse, and like all songs of its type, seems to promise both community and hardship.

That'll all arrive soon enough.

Dio's eyes follow Cecilia as she departs. He rises from his seat and sits down right beside Orland, taking his partial haze cigarillo unless he resists, and takes a couple of hits before handing it back. "Which part do you deny, My Lord?" Dio asks Orland, with a grin playing on his lips. "Who is more fearless than a man who sets sail for the chain after being left for dead in forest the journey before? And who has a greater taste for adventure?" He leans back and takes a drink of his fresh rum. "I'll admit, your hair is a bit nicer than Lady Cecilia's, but I still stand by your commonalities."

Adrienne turns a glance to her guards, who move like liquid through the tavern, rambunctious with the delight of dancing to the duo of Savio Ponteleaus and Drunk Old Guy. She spares a quick word to Dio, an arch of a brow, before leaving the tavern to do whatever it is she does when not visiting random Pierosian taverns.

Orland tilts his head toward Dio, "You haven't heard about the poison gas chamber yet..." He is deadpan. Serious?! Or Sarcasm Serious?! OH NO, how will you ever know. Orland stamps out his cigarillo and exhales the last of the smoke upward, looking toward Dio with a raised eyebrow at the part about being left in a forest. "You know, because you said that I have a taste for adventure, I should go right back into the wilderness." He looks to where the Princess went, "Consider your invitation ACCEPTED." That's for Adrienne, but who knows if she'll have heard it or not. He frowns, "I still have to learn Patrizio's trick. Not as great as his. How he coifs his hair... truly an artform." Then he nods up to Savio, before he raises his glass toward Dio, "Let us drink. To adventures." And not being left in the woods again.