"Ah," Absinthe sighs.
The tiefling moves closer to the sergeant, but stays outside of lunge-range.
"Then do you drink to celebrate her... or to mourn her, sergeant?"
"That is true. I guess if she can get enough sergeants on her side.. Still what did he do to warrant getting demoted?" Demitri follows Absinthe waiting to hear his response to her question.
Grau gives Absinthe a sidelong glance, as if to check that her question is serious. "Mourn. Mourn... mourn! Who could shelebrate as the schity dies? Shick bashtards, preying on the weak... like ratsh after a flood!"
"I agree it's not in the best shape right now, but why do you think it's dying? And who are you talking about?"
Absinthe nods, and then signals to the barkeep. "Two black teas, please," she says. "No honey or cream. Hot."
The tiefling sits down next to Grau and gives him a sincere look. "Talk to us. Talk to us and mourn your city with a drink that does not make a fool of you -- and of it."
"Ya, friend ... let's be a bit quieter about it. Some of these less than savory types may, umm, say something to the wrong persons before we can help you right these wrongs."
Grau grunts, "The King is dead, long live the Queen!" He raises his flagon in mock salute. "Now itsh own people turn on it like ratsh on a carcassh. Order and dignity were the firsht victims... then hope. I put yearsh into protecting Korvosha and itsh people... all for naught! But sho caresh anyway?"
Theandra walks over with two cups of tea, giving you a wink.
Absinthe takes one of the cups with a bow, and deftly switches Grau's flagon for the steaming black liquid. She takes the other cup for herself.
"Drink for sorrow," she intones. "Drink for honour. Drink for dignity. Drink for tears and pain -- and for hope for tomorrow."
Grau makes no move to drink the tea, he only stares at it sullenly. "Words and more words... itsh not that easy to jusht... forget everything. And who ish left to put thingsh right? The schity feeds on itshelf... chaos at the drop of a hat."
"On the other hand...the city is also resilient. She came out of worse than this succession of the past few days before. All we can do is ride it out...and watch for signs of what we can do. Enjoy - or hate - the meal, not the chef." Rosa takes a seat, deciding it best to neglect the true nature of that particular turn of phrase.
"Rosa's right. We do what we can and we don't turn our back on it."
"Bah! Foolish vanity, all of it!" he slurs, slumping his head down on the bar.
"What's got you thinking like this? You get fired, or did something else happen?"
Rosa pauses, then bends over slightly to gently poke at the side of the saergeant's head. "...I think he's passed out."
"I'm still curious as to why he is this way."
"Well, short of stripping him to his smallclothes and dunking him in the harbor, I doubt we'll get the answer to that before morning," Rosa quips. "...oh, and that costs extra."
"Well I didn't think that was free."
He is passed out, and now drooling on the bar top.
Rosa contemplates for a moment, then sighs. "...what do we do with him, then?"
"I assume he has a room here. Just get him to a bed and then go back to what we were doing."
Melianthe capers in, a wide grin on her face. "What ho, denizens of Bailer's Retreat! So sorry, I tried to get Segang to come, but he was in the middle of some sort of manly strength contest and said he'd be a little while, and then these guardsmen said the only way to enjoy--enjoy the Retreat was to pre-medicate---no offense, barkeep---and so I said I was a doctor, but oh! They had some stronnnng medicine---distilled Kyoninsberry and so we..."
Her eyes focus on Grau. "Who is he? He looks like he needs smell assault. Smelling salts."
"And she's drunk...His name is Grau Soldado, Sergeant of the Watch."
"Personally, I think he's a little past that. I suggested dunking him in the harbor, but no one could afford my rates. Oh, and he's one of Dimitri's workmates...or exworkmates, we never quite got that far before the slipping into a coma bit."
Melianthe begins to regain some clarity. "Yes, of course. Give him water if possible, see him to bed, and we shall speak to him in the morrow. I may want that tea, Abby."
"Be welcome to it," Absinthe says, with a subtle little smile.
"As for dunking the sergeant... Are there no horse troughs out front?"
"I know his name and rank, nothing more. I also think that even if we wake him, he'll just say the same things over and over."
"...right. Let's get him out of here and back to the carousing for the evening!"
"On it." Demitri will try to find out if he has a room here. If not, he will arrange one for him so he can drag the man there.
Segang sips a beer and offers. This man may have abandoned his post, like the ones from the butcher shop. Or he may have been relieved of his duties. Either way he has a story I wager we will want to hear, but without alchemical kindness or the like, we will have to wait until morning to hear it.[b] Looking closely at the drooling man he corrects himself. [b]Maybe tomorrow afternoon. What strikes me is that this city is still in turmoil. It should be in a state of morning for its king and in an orderly transition of power to is queen. That its not likely means someone with some power does not want it to be. There is a rat in the works I'll wager.
Theandra informs Demitri that Grau does not have a room here, and she arranges a cot in the storage shed out of sympathy. She lets you know that he has been frequenting the Three Rings since the riots began, reaching increased depths of inebriation each night.
Segang sips a beer and offers. This man may have abandoned his post, like the ones from the butcher shop. Or he may have been relieved of his duties. Either way he has a story I wager we will want to hear, but without alchemical kindness or the like, we will have to wait until morning to hear it. Looking closely at the drooling man he corrects himself. Maybe tomorrow afternoon. What strikes me is that this city is still in turmoil. It should be in a state of morning for its king and in an orderly transition of power to is queen. That its not likely means someone with some power does not want it to be. There is a rat in the works I'll wager.
"I think that's because it's unatural to have such shackles of law levied upon people. There's this fleeting thought of change and freedom before it's crushed down again by the next dose of reality. I get it. I'm by no means an anarchist, but the rule of nobility and the separation of classes definitely chafes."
Seren turns to look at the passed out drunk. "I think this man may have an interesting story, but I also think it may be dangerous to hear the rest of the conversation. Let's talk to him away from the common room."
Melianthe goggles at Segang suspiciously. "Se. Gang. When did you get so smart? I think someone cast a spell around here, because you're - so - smart whereas Iiii feel very, very. strong! C'mon, Shoanti! Face the might of the elder races!"
She rolls up her sleeve to reveal a long, shapely, slender, and quite the opposite of strong, grey arm, plonking her elbow down and raising her forearm in a typical arm wrestling challenge.
"I think we have another one we may have to put to bed. C'mon, Mel."
Rosa giggles and leans over the table. "I kinda want to see where this goes."
"Of course you do. Though I guess it wouldn't hurt to see this play out a bit."
"We have a thing to do, too," Absinthe says. She carefully pulls Melianthe down at Demitri's side, then signals the lady at the counter for a round of beers.
"Drink and sad songs," she announces. "To honour those lost... and to empty our hearts of darkness so the light may blossom there again."
"You are right, Abby. Do you have a song for us by any chance?"
Absinthe smiles a bit, and starts to croon something in a foreign language (Tien). She is clearly not a skilled singer, and the words are difficult to follow, but the general feeling the song evokes is... soft, and sad.
memories floating like a dream
the wind blows through, the current flows
no one knows where my loved one goes.
Petals floating on the stream
pink as cherries, pale as cream
in Autumn's chill, I long to dream
of times we kept each other warm.
Petals floating on the stream
the water so cold, the wind so unclean
loneliness cuts down to the bone
without you there, no house is home.
Snow, like petals, falls to earth
ice buries even the memories of our mirth
beneath a blanket white, all still as death
we can only wait for Spring's warm breath.
Snow, like petals, falls to earth
I lie so cold, and still...
a hand touches mine and I know
whence you disappeared, I, too, must go."
"I wish I could understand that, but it sounded beautiful." Tears welling up uncontrollably in Demitri's eyes as if he did understand it.
"You will understand this one, brother," Absinthe promises. "And you will sing along. All of you."
The tiefling clears her throat, and then starts to sing in Common. The song is not solemn at all, and Absinthe actually waves her beer in time with her singing:
"Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
As a nipper I worked on the dreary dry
I was a weedy thing, then, and none too sly
Did I not labour mightily till my fingers bled
My master would see me before I could go to bed
He'd say: "Show me gold for my coffers here, honest and true
Or else I'll beat your back 'till it's black and blue!"
One evening, someone jumped me and put my head in a sack
Woke up on a ship as a deckhand, but I never looked back!
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
The sea's a cruel mistress, but her breath is clean
A captain's a cruel master, but the old one was no less mean
Of a ship I can say that the bilges do reek
You work till your bones crack, day upon week!
Of endless horizons, though, this life is made
For a free-spirited soul, this life's surely made
And if officers don't pay up, oh, what a deal
An honest sailor can always claim his gold with his steel.
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
I left my ship for a drink and met me a lass
So I slipped her some money and she slapped my ass
At night I tickled her out of her shift
She tied me to the bed and gave me good shrift!
Next morning dawned and she said she wanted a ring
One for her finger, 'twas a pretty thing
The other was iron, 'twas meant for my neck
I ran to the ship, she won't see me back!
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
I met a holy man, out on the briny blue
He told me to sit down 'cause preaching was due
I listened and marvelled, his voice was so fine
His insight was great; he knew my every crime!
When his throat was dried out, I poured him out some rum
I shook his hand and said: "You're well-spoken, chum!"
Alas, holy man, who paddled out to claim my soul
The temple has to pay 'fore I give you back safe and whole!
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
I met a merchant-man, his ship sailed so low
He asked me where the best market was for him to go
His hold full of slaves, of misery and of despair
Gold on his fingers and toes and even in his hair!
So I jumped on his deck and said: "I know the way!"
To Besmara I sent him, and there did he stay
He must like it there, for he did thence not part
Or maybe that was because I put steel through his heart!
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
A king he did call out: "The sailor's way is too free!
So this forest of ships, I'll claim it for me!"
Oh, king in your fortress, who would be monarch of the sea
The fun thing about a ship is that it always can flee!
Oh, mighty king who sends warships to bring us back
Why not just your gold into the night's velvet black?
When the tide brings back your warships, tall and proud
We'll be on their decks, but never your louts!
Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!
Alas, I am old now, hear the whip-poor-will sing...
Pharasma calls me to sail beyond all things...
So to the deck I go, and stand at the wheel...
The sails, they're unfurled, at my side is my steel...
A last gulp of rum, and a moment to remember those gone...
Oh, mighty goddess who told me: "Your time is done..."
You'll have a job to catch me, 'cause I've gone on the run!
A free sailor's not defeated until you have overcome!
[b]Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!"
Absinthe sips from her beer and smiles demurely.
"One might call that the sailors' dirge," she says. "One was introduced to it during the voyage from Goka."
A few other patrons, obviously misplaced sailors, pick up the song as Absinthe leads it, and join in a round of cheers when it is finished.
Seren likes a good tavern song, and grabs a mug of whatever is nearby, regardless if it's his, and jumps in.
Melianthe goggles at Segang suspiciously. "Se. Gang. When did you get so smart? I think someone cast a spell around here, because you're - so - smart whereas Iiii feel very, very. strong! C'mon, Shoanti! Face the might of the elder races!"
She rolls up her sleeve to reveal a long, shapely, slender, and quite the opposite of strong, grey arm, plonking her elbow down and raising her forearm in a typical arm wrestling challenge.
Its not that I am so smart, its only that I know the reasons that men drink. He regards her slender grey arm as he continues. This one has not the look of one who has long known the bottle. His binge is a recent thing to coincide with the fall of his king I think. He pushes back the leather armor covering his arm and rolls up his own sleeve. He places his arm on the table next to Melianthe's. It is easily three times the size of the elven arm. The deep bronze color from sun and wind exposure contrasts with the pale grey color of skin that seldom has seen the sun.
Seeing this contrast Segang looks more closely at Melianthe and sees, maybe for the first time, how different their lives have been; how different they are. Taking her hand but forgetting the offer to arm wrestle he ponders Can two people be more different? I am a creature of the great plains. Of sun and rain and wind.Looking into her eyes he asks What has shaped you Mel?
"You will understand this one, brother," Absinthe promises. "And you will sing along. All of you."
The tiefling clears her throat, and then starts to sing in Common. The song is not solemn at all, and Absinthe actually waves her beer in time with her singing:
"Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!As a nipper I worked on the dreary dry
I was a weedy thing, then, and none too sly
Did I not labour mightily till my fingers bled
My master would see me before I could go to bed
He'd say: "Show me gold for my coffers here, honest and true
Or else I'll beat your back 'till it's black and blue!"
One evening, someone jumped me and put my head in a sack
Woke up on a ship as a deckhand, but I never looked back!Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!The sea's a cruel mistress, but her breath is clean
A captain's a cruel master, but the old one was no less mean
Of a ship I can say that the bilges do reek
You work till your bones crack, day upon week!
Of endless horizons, though, this life is made
For a free-spirited soul, this life's surely made
And if officers don't pay up, oh, what a deal
An honest sailor can always claim his gold with his steel.Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum
I'll go raid the till when my drinking's done!I left my ship for a drink and met me a lass
So I slipped her some money and she slapped my ass
At night I tickled her out of her shift
She tied me to the bed and gave me good shrift!
Next morning dawned and she said she wanted a ring
One for her finger, 'twas a pretty thing
The other was iron, 'twas meant for my neck
I ran to the ship, she won't see me back!Heigh-ho, lift your cup, my son
The maid pinched my loot, but left my cup full of rum...
A drink or two ahead of the others Segang joins in the song and sings with the others. Then he offers to sing a song of the Shoanti. It is sung by the teller of tales at the fall festivals around the fires. I will translate as best I can.
A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow
Or the plains are blackened and burnt and bare, where the false mirages go
Like shifting symbols of hope deferred - land you never know.
Land of the plenty or land of want, where the grey Companions dance,
Feast or famine, or hope or fear, and in all things land of chance,
Where Nature pampers or Nature slays, in her ruthless, red, romance.
And we catch a sound of a fairy's song, as the wind goes whipping by,
Or a scent like incense drifts along from the herbage ripe and dry
- Or the dust storms dance on their ballroom floor, where the bones of the horses lie.
Finishing quietly, he looks a little embarrassed and goes back to drinking his beer.
Demitri's expression changes as Absinthe changes the song. At first, hesitant of it, he joins in with gusto.
After Segang sings his native song, he slaps him on the back for encouragement. "Don't be embarrassed, that song was great.."
"One concurs," Absinthe says, nodding enthusiastically.
It is anyone's guess whether the slight blush on her pale cheeks is due to love of the song or the beer she has already had.
Melianthe's eyes refocus after the strong tea works into her system. She squints at the Shoanti's bicep. Still clasping his hand, she replies to his query. "A thousand years of darkness. Loss. Death. It is no matter. The omens are gone now, save for the Harrowing, and we are free to make our own destinies. Right now mine is with all of you, here in Korvosa."
She sips her tea, shakes her light blonde tresses, and then pauses. "This is a bit clearer in Elvish, but the Taldan will suffice." She lilts a song that sounds ancient, with a melody that winds in a modal fashion, like something polished by the river for eons.
Rise up, my child, come away, my child,
The night is just a-borning.
Gather ye arrows and gather ye bow,
We've much to do 'til morning.
O the ash is crowned and the willow hangs down
And faery lights shall dance around
As the western breeze gi'es a sigh to the trees
We are safe by the light of the moon,
Safe by the light of the moon.
Oh we guarded the arch for our cousins' return,
From the night 'til break of day.
In the rainy woods and the crackling ice
'Til our hame was cool and grey.
But our watch was cleaved and our warriors grieved
When the Razer came with his fearsome teeth
Though we scattered away like the autumn leaves
We are safe by the light of the moon,
Safe by the light of the moon.
Segang closes his eyes as Melianthe sings to better visualize the words. I can almost smell the forest. he comments after she finishes. Demitri, Serin. do you have a song for us? He looks expectantly at the two.
Rosa, strangely, finds herself sitting quietloy and enjoying the songs. Although, perhaps more oddly, she doesn't seem to know the words herself, she does hum - hesitantly - once she gets the melody.