As Banny and the group move away, Tyari appears at Marikel's shoulder. "Good job redirecting her," she murmurs, smiling.
Marikel's face falls and he nods once as Banny turns away. He watches her find another table but doesn't follow instead taking a step back.
As Banny and the group move away, Tyari appears at Marikel's shoulder. "Good job redirecting her," she murmurs, smiling.
He almost jumps at the soft voice in his ear.
"Thanks ma'am," he nods to Tyari."I could have done better. I hurt her feelings."
Marikel looks around before asking, "Did you still want that drink?"
"I'm sure they will," Alicia says. She winks and pointedly eyes the dwarf, who already outweighs Ruby by a factor known only to Iomedae, Desna or another being with much more intelligence than she. "It's not like you have an unfair advantage or anything."
Banny elbows for a spot at the table on the justified grounds that it was her idea, now back off, everybody'll get a turn-- and "organizes" things, to the extent that one organizes a pie-eating contest. There indeed seems to be room at the long table for Ruby, or anyone else interested.
"First to finish their pie's the winner, but we gotta have someone call the count...! Kurst?" she calls, dragging her hair back out of her face and tying it up with a quick twist of the bandanna she wears.
"Oh... so you need another half-orcy one, and then some ghost rats as well" smiling and clapping once "Done... might take me a bit though, there isn't much good wood for whittling here." before they are interrupted by Banny's call.
"True enough," Rodrick nods. "We have to haul lumber from miles out to maintain the palisades and watchtowers. Father and Halgra are hoping to convince the Council to set aside a few of the fields for reforestation, though it will make the farmers unhappy. Everyone prefers grain and vegetables in the hand to lumber a generation or more from now." He looks up at Banny's newest announcement. "What's she up to now? Looks like Kerst is in the middle of it, as usual."
"Did you still want that drink?"
"I suppose that would be appropriate," she shrugs with a smile. "It is a festive occasion." She accompanies Marikel over to the booth Rabus Clarenston has set up; the old dwarf and retired Patrol Captain Omast Frum has claimed a prime location.
There is a brief kerfuffle when Banny and her followers arrive at the pie table, a minor stand-off that ends with the competitive eaters victorious; the matrons withdraw to the far end of the tables, frowning in disapproval.
"First to finish their pie's the winner, but we gotta have someone call the count...! Kurst?" she calls, dragging her hair back out of her face and tying it up with a quick twist of the bandanna she wears.
"So it's like a footrace?" Kerst asks. "Whoever finishes first, rather than how many you can eat in a given time? How will we tell who's done first? There's no flag to grab."
A couple of his fellow Patrolmen groan at the half-orc's caution, when there are pies to eat.
"I'll have an ale," Marikel smiles to Rabus.
"Two, ma'am?" he turns to Tyari and glances about for some seats away from everyone else.
Rabus gives the Iomedaeans a reproachful glare as he fills the glasses. "So my ale's good enough for you but not for them?" he asks pointedly, jerking his chin toward the knot of townsfolk who had been headed for his booth but are now congregating at the pie table.
"Ale's good for everyone," the old dwarf puts in. "I've been drinking it longer than both of you together have been alive. Him too." He looks around to select some other random passersby. "And her ... and him, too. And throw in the Blackblade while you're at it. Ain't never done me no harm." He fixes Marikel with a challenging stare, as if daring him to contradict his assertion.
Marikel takes the drinks.
"I told her to save it for another day. Are you worried she'll sober up before then?"
Marikel doesn't wait for a response but hands Tyari her drink and makes his way to a quieter space.
Tyari gives Marikel an understanding smirk as they find a seat at the edge of the amphitheater. "For what it's worth, Patrol Captain Grath supports us in regard to The Killin' Ground." Her cultured tone overenunciates the dropped 'g,' highlighting her attempts to honor the local customs. "Mr. Clarenston has the Patrol schedule memorized, lest he serve any soldier too near his or her next shift; Captain Grath has made it clear he'll hold the brewer equally responsible with the overimbiber. It's one of the reasons I wish Banny would officially join the Patrol." Her eyes wander over to the pie table where the dwarf is holding court. "She needs discipline. Wants it even, desperately. But she keeps falling off the wagon."
"Granted, she does need the discipline. But I think she'll have to learn that before she learns sobriety. At the moment the alcohol is all that keeps those... things at bay. Without another behaviour to replace that, I'm worried she'll fall apart again."
Marikel's gaze wanders over to the pie eating contest when Tyari looks back at him and he sighs.
"I try to look out for her. But sometimes, like today, I overstep the mark."
Assuming that Rodrick has an intent to move across, Vhailor keeps pace in a half-walk / half-skip at his side. For once he doesn't add words... yet... instead regarding the ritual eating contest with something akin to the curiosity of a Chelaxian settler placing eyes upon the Mwangi for the first time.
Carb stalks after the gnome he calls home as well, initially languidly... but after regarding the many booted feet around him with some pace thereafter. Once he reaches Vhailor's legs - a nudge and purr is enough to see him hefted shoulder-wards once more.
Rodrick and Vhailor join a small crowd of other interested onlookers at the quickly-organized pie-eating contest. Besides Ruby, ten Patrol men test their stomachs against the dwarf. Having worked out the logistics of the competition, Kerst gets it started with a shout, and for a space of a few moments, the only sounds are gulps and the muted clatter of plates. A quiet but hefty Patrolman known affectionately as "Hoss" is the first to rise from his seat, a cream-smeared hand in the air. As Kerst moves over to check his pie pan, the second to finish, a man named Canaday, protests, "Not fair! He had butterscotch! There's no chewing, just swallowing!"
The competition seems to have come to some sort of conclusion, though Tyari and Marikel are too far to see who might have triumphed, when Brantos approaches them through the crowd. "Ah, here we are," he smiles broadly, joining the pair. "Any explanation for the miscommunication with the school children?"
After the proclamation of cheating is made, Vhailor tugs at Rodrick's jerkin to draw his attention "Are there many rules for an event such as this?... or is it as barbaric as it seems?"
"Ah, here we are," he smiles broadly, joining the pair. "Any explanation for the miscommunication with the school children?"
Marikel tenses, then shrugs.
"I doubt it was a miscommunication. Did Alicia say anything when you were with her?"
Alicia tries to blend into the crowd as the pie-eating herd swarms the table. Even so, she hovers near Ruby while the girl competes.
"Did Alicia say anything when you were with her?"
Brantos arches an eyebrow. "She said the girl tripped on her way to the stage. I suppose everyone else stopped moving when she fell, to check if she was all right or to avoid stepping on her. Still, it doesn't explain why no one moved before that. I saw her fall, and it was after you and Miss Banny and the gnome had already taken the stage."
"What did the girl say?" Tyari asks. "The one who fell?"
"That someone jostled her from behind and she fell forward, twisting her ankle," Brantos replies with a slight frown. "Which agrees with Miss Dawnblade's account but still fails to account for the delay."
"Are there many rules for an event such as this?... or is it as barbaric as it seems?"
Rodrick is watching the dispute with more amusement than consternation. He shrugs. "This is the first I've seen of it. I suppose it's for Banny to say."
As Kerst moves over to check his pie pan, the second to finish, a man named Canaday, protests, "Not fair! He had butterscotch! There's no chewing, just swallowing!"
"Then why didn't you pick butterscotch yourself, Canaday?" one of the onlookers challenges. "No one forced you to take dried-apple."
"I don't like butterscotch," he snaps back.
Meanwhile, Hoss unperturbedly starts on a half-finished pie one of the other contestants abandoned.
Kerst is overwhelmed, looking to Banny for the rules and by-laws of the sacred dwarven tradition of competitive pie-eating.
With Rodrick's partial reply, Vhailor also turns to regard Banny with a slight tilt-headed query.
Ruby managed to make it through her original two slices of butterscotch and apple, but quickly bogged down in the rhubarb. "Since the contest is over, do you think they'll mind if I don't finish it?" she whispers to Alicia, poking at it with her fork.
Banny's slow to reply at first, busy stuffing her face with a berry pie, but when eyes turn her way seeking adjudication of the conflict, she says, "Mamff gomma poimf, oo cmm mick--"
That won't do. Banny uses what's left in her tankard to wash down her mouthful of pie, then tries again. "Man's gotta point, you can pick your pie, so if'n you pick one easy to eat that ain't cheatin', 's strategy, like."
She looks down regretfully at her berry pie, alas, no first place for her, then squints over at Hoss's pie, and Hoss himself, before letting out a belly laugh.
"Lookit him, he's still goin'! While yer whinin' 'bout him cheatin, Canny," she grins. "Hoss wins by a couple of leagues."
"That someone jostled her from behind and she fell forward, twisting her ankle," Brantos replies with a slight frown. "Which agrees with Miss Dawnblade's account but still fails to account for the delay."
"I can ask some questions of the children and Miss Kelver. That may shed some light. But it may be best to leave it until after the celebrations," Marikel suggests.
Vhailor's brow furrows a bit further, still not entirely sure exactly what to make of the proceedings.
Canaday seems grudgingly to accept Banny's word as law; it's her people's tradition, after all. There is some congratulatory back-slapping of Hoss as the other contestants either pick up their pie plates to continue eating at a more leisurely pace or abandon the messy remains. Moving back in to reclaim their domain, the matrons fix the Patrol members, and Banny in particular, with disapproving glares, tutting over the waste.
With his jaundiced eyes Vhailor sees a question forming, and he moves forward to wave an awkward greeting to the tutting matrons. If his presence is acknowledged he smiles a mite ungainly and confides "Terrible shame isn't it... what went on here." pausing to shuffle his shoulders as Carb's center of gravity moves as the cat leans forward to see if there are any free tidbits of flavor in the offing on the table.
Alicia leans over and smiles at Ruby's question. She takes Ruby's fork, as if she's taking over the pie plate, and spares a hard look at the nattering matrons. "They won't say anything," she reassures the girl.
One of the women, puffed up with indignation like a preening hen, peers down at the gnome. "This is food, not mudpies. It's a sin to waste food, when we all know well the orcs could come at any time. When they're eating siegestone porridge, they'll wish they had good pie to break the monotony."
"It's not just a waste of food," another woman agrees; "it's disrespectful of our hard work. I mean, tossing apples over the cliff is one thing, and something I'd hope Captain Grath would do something about, but hours we spent, collectively, slicing and cooking and rolling out pastry."
"And baking!" yet another puts in. "In a hot kitchen with the oven afire and not a hint of breeze, while they're out larking about in a watchtower! It's criminal, that's what it is!"
"Aye," the first matron nods, "they act like pie springs into existence for their pleasure just by thinking about it. Let them do their own cooking, that's what I say, and they'll be singing a different tune."
(Carbonel, sniffing at the table and finding no meat pies, sulks back into position on Vhailor's shoulders.)
Ruby takes advantage of the distraction to slip away with Alicia, after dragging her finger through some stray apple syrup and licking it off. "What should we do now?" she asks happily.
"I can ask some questions of the children and Miss Kelver. That may shed some light. But it may be best to leave it until after the celebrations," Marikel suggests.
"Or perhaps longer than that." As the two men turn questioning glances on her, Tyari elaborates. "If it wasn't a misunderstanding and was intended to harm, then it failed at its intentions. Ruby made it through her Hopeknife Ceremony and seems pleased enough. I'm not sure stirring things up won't do more harm than good. We're talking about children here, not demons. Yes, they can be cruel, but we're not going to smite them."
Vhailor's sense that there might be a common ground in their opinion sputters and dies as the matrons speak. By the end of the sequence of words he's exasperated enough to splurt back "Thats what you're annoyed about!? Pashshadan fil qarash va bir tog'ni ko'rish uchun. You made food and they ate the food..." mouth flapping slightly in the breeze as his hands gesticulate and he can't quite find words to fill the rest of the sentence.
"If it wasn't a misunderstanding and was intended to harm, then it failed at its intentions. Ruby made it through her Hopeknife Ceremony and seems pleased enough. I'm not sure stirring things up won't do more harm than good. We're talking about children here, not demons. Yes, they can be cruel, but we're not going to smite them."
Marikel frowns.
"Perhaps we should just see what Miss Kelver thinks. The Hopeknife Ceremony is about working together and if some children wish to prioritise their pettiness it could lead to someone getting hurt. These are not the safest of times and this is not the safest of places."
Tyari nods. "That seems prudent. Miss Kelver spends the most time with the children; she ought to know if there's any real reason for concern." She looks at Marikel expectantly.
Kerst tries nervously to intercede with the matrons. "We meant no disrespect.... It's a celebration! Pie-eating competitions are a time-honored dwarven tradition!" His gaze wanders hopefully to Banny.
"Oh, no, Kerst Grath!" The woman shakes her finger reprovingly at him. "Don't you think your father won't hear about this! Wasn't ten years ago you were stealing pies off my windowsill and making up wild excuses."
Rodrick stifles a laugh. "That was me," he whispers to Vhailor as he tries to lead him away from the tables. "I always said I was Kerst when I got caught."
Banny seems blissfully unconcerned with the matron's grumpy stares. As long as she's in the vicinity, none of this food is going to go to waste precisely. She collects half-eaten pies, sits down, and resumes scooping out the innards with her fingers, and continuing to eat. When this earns her a look, she says, "This one's your cherry custard, right, auntie Calder? Can't beat it, it's awful tasty for havin' fruit in it."
She winks at Kerst when he looks hopefully her way. "He's right, real time-honored. You wouldn't be down on tradition, ladies. Tell you what, next time we do it we'll count out whose pies get eaten first, cuz that'd tell you whose was tastiest, right?"
Even if the ladies' tempers aren't assuaged, it hardly matters to Banny. Her lifestyle has rendered her as indifferent to pointed stares and comments as a duck to rain. She sits happily at the table full of demolished pies, continuing to eat, and, in case the feelings of the ale brewers are hurt any, continuing to drink, too. More you drink, the more you can eat. And the more you eat, the more you can drink. Works out nicely for all concerned, as she reckons it. She does offer the remains of a rhubarb pie to Kerst, at least.
Proving again permissive to be led Vhailor follows after Rodrick, ignoring his revelation about the pies to query him on what he found barbaric "But it's just weird... people getting upset because somebody ate their food or read their book or spilled their ink... if I were them I'd be bemoaning the complete and utter disregard and lack to table manners. Nary a skerrick of cutlery to be found across the whole table! Using ones fingers.." making a thoroughly disgusted snort "...I mean probably the same hands they use to..." half making a motion of wiping his arse before catching himself and coughing instead.
Tyari nods. "That seems prudent. Miss Kelver spends the most time with the children; she ought to know if there's any real reason for concern." She looks at Marikel expectantly.
Marikel looks down into his drink, then drains the rest of it.
He briefly glances at Brantos before holding Tyari's gaze."I'll find her and see when it might be convenient to chat. If you'll excuse me, ma'am."
"Nary a skerrick of cutlery to be found across the whole table! Using ones fingers.." making a thoroughly disgusted snort "...I mean probably the same hands they use to..." half making a motion of wiping his arse before catching himself and coughing instead.
Rodrick chuckles. "Only pair of hands they have," he points out. "Do gnomes keep an extra set for the latrine? Or use one hand for everyday and the other on formal occasions?"
She does offer the remains of a rhubarb pie to Kerst, at least.
Kerst sighs and sits down heavily next to Banny as the women gather what pies can be salvaged for further use and distance themselves from the imperturbable dwarf and her broken remnants of pastry, cream, and fruit. "Dad's always getting onto us not to cause trouble with the civilians. Probably in for another dressing down in the Longhouse tonight." He pokes at the rhubarb disconsolately.
"I'll find her and see when it might be convenient to chat. If you'll excuse me, ma'am."
Tyari gives Marikel a smile and a nod. "Let me know if she feels there's reason for concern. And try not to come across as if we're accusing the children or judging the job she's doing as their teacher. Trunauans are touchy about anything they perceive as outsiders trying to interfere in their business."
Snorting more with disgust than amusement Vhailor counters "All the more reason to trust to the sanctity of the fork and spoon... I mean if I were to pick up and eat a pie with this hand" waggling the one he had used for handshakes this morning "It would be like sticking my face into the arse of the dwarf, the Iomedean and myself all at the once. I think even you'd agree that that isn't polite..." self-satisfied at his opinion and answer.
Tyari gives Marikel a smile and a nod. "Let me know if she feels there's reason for concern. And try not to come across as if we're accusing the children or judging the job she's doing as their teacher. Trunauans are touchy about anything they perceive as outsiders trying to interfere in their business."
"Of course, ma'am," Marikel nods obediently.
He looks around and strides off into the crowd in search of the school mistress.