The Sounding Hall (Open)

[Franky]

Ash 42, 121

Franky's voice bellowed loudly through the tavern as he carried another barrel of Imperial Pilsner out into the seating area. A new song had begun, and it had a slower start to it, deep in tone. It was a song of a love and betrayal, one that was popular around the campfires of the Imperium.

"They came for him one winter's night
Arrested, he was bound
They said there'd been a robbery
His pistol had been found."

There was some chatter during the song, but that was expected, but it was kept soft and private. Tonight was all about the singing, a night for keeping away the demons, from sundown to sunup. These were the demons that fled the cold of winter, looking for the warm bodies to take shelter within. These were the same demons that were thought to bring on depression, alcoholism, violence and suicide in the darkened days of the harsh winters.

And so, they sang, to keep them at bay.

Franky set the barrel down as more began to join in, as the song continued onward somberly,

"They marched him to the station house
He waited till the dawn
And as they led him to the dock
He knew that he'd been wronged
"You stand accused of robbery,"
He heard the bailiff say
He knew without an alibi
Tomorrow's light would mourn his freedom"

Franky was quick to tap the beer. On this night, this beer was free and free flowing to all who wanted it. Sure, it was one of the cheaper Imperial imports, but it wouldn't do to cripple a business for a holiday. Plus there were plenty of people here this night buying food and other drinks. But he never stopped the song. On this night, the songs would never stop. Not for a moment.

Then the song became higher pitched, louder, and many more voices began to pitch in.

"Over the hills and far away
For ten long years he'll count the days
Over the mountains and the seas
A prisoner's life for him there'll be"


Franky returned back behind the bar, still singing along with everyone, taking a drink between the pauses, and began taking more orders and cleaning flagons. The night was young and the singing was bold. He wondered what song would start next after this. Maybe something he'd never heard before. That would be nice.

[Nnerka]

She did not know the songs they sang.

Nnerka did not know the words, nor did she find that she cared all that much to know. The lyrics told a story she couldn’t sympathize with, either. Her second evening in the city and she’d been directed to a tavern to scope out the wares and patrons. Nnerka didn’t know much about entrepreneurial espionage, and would likely only be able to attest to the song and merriment that passed through the Hobbled Gobbler. At the very least, it was reminiscent of the musical language for which her kinfolk shared.

This deep into the more non-human part of the city, Nnerka had found comfort in being able to…breathe, for lack of a better word. Less uptight humans to gawk in fear at her. Not that she minded that — she delighted in it, really. But the purpose of her visit was not to evoke fear. It left her with a shortened stature and crippled to two legs. Impaired by the closing of all but two eyes. To say the least: she was not amused. There was comfort, now, in the way she had to step over the smaller subrace of goblins she often forgot the name of in Common. The careful placement of legs to not bump into another person. But, of course, there was also that they made way for her and not the other way around.

By the time she had reached the bar, her voice had joined in chorus with the others in soft nonsense trills. Low enough to be incomprehensible but loud enough to be heard. It dropped down to a hum as she glanced around her, all eight eyes taking in the interior of the tavern with interest. She hadn’t ventured far often in Kalsazi, sticking close to the Cabaret out of habit. And, well, a general distaste for the city unless necessity called for her to be deeper in its clutches. The same might be said of here, but for now, she would attempt to enjoy the company she found herself in.

The song shifted and there was a lull — filled with the murmurs of voices as the next song was debated.

[Jane Farraway]

Ash 42nd, 121. The Hobbled Gobbler, Zaichaer

Jane ran down a back alley that ran behind the Hobbled Gobbler, late for her shift. Her last class for the day at the Greater Institute had run longer than expected and the train she took across town was delayed as well. She was not even in her work clothes since she usually arrived early so she could change in the storage room. As she turned a corner, she spotted Oaky leaned against the door frame, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. He lazily raised his eyebrows as she approached and he smirked, seeming to take some petty satisfaction at her hurried state. The petulant teen blew a taunting cloud of smoke as Jane passed to enter, but she only shook her head and waved it away, not having the time or patience to share any words with him.

Sizzling grease and boiling pots greeted her on the way in, along with the shouts of Evzark and Zeerd as they barked orders across the kitchen. Dirdy kept his head down, deep in thought as his carried fresh trays of pot roast and vegetables to the line, weaving between the two fiery chefs. Jane did her best to stay out of their way as she ducked into the storage room near the back.

“Please no one come in here until I'm out!”, she called out, frayed with stress.

“Well, now that you mention it!”, Chestnut sang with a playful vibrato. The Fae stopped chopping her onions and rapidly stomped to the door of the storage closet and rattled the handle, prompting a startled scream from Jane within. The rest of the kitchen laughed but Jane only gave a frustrated sigh, in no mood to tolerate jokes.

“I'm in something of a hurry, so I need to get dressed!”

“Ok, ok! I'm just kidding around!”, Chestnut said, patting the door and returning to her work.

Jane emerged shortly wearing her drindl and tied her apron around her waist. She knew she was still a mess but she was almost 15 minutes late and needed to be on the floor as soon as possible. Franky would understand and likely not give her much worry over it, but Gug was a different story. She dreaded the sour look and heavy scrutiny from him, though she would take that over a lecture from Meirel. Thankfully she wasn't working today so hopefully news of her tardiness would not reach her.

Another night of Vintusvarm, another packed night at the Hobbled Gobbler. This was supposed to be some song night; The tradition had been explained to her by Franky at one point but she had since forgotten the details. There seemed to be a lull in the crowd as stray voices sung in an attempt to get others to join, but none seemed to take their songs. Jane winced as she saw the sheer volume of guests, feeling even more guilty for arriving late. She was in such a rush that she did not at once notice the towering form of a spider-like monster looming over the crowd, but when she did a horrified scream tore out from her throat and she ducked back into the kitchen.

The barmaid stumbled towards the back entrance, clutching her chest as her heart felt like it would shake her apart. She bumped Zeerd from behind, causing the sous chef to spill a portion of hot stew onto the floor. Nearly hysteric from fear, she fell against the edge of a prep table, trembling and trying desperately to speak. All of the kitchen staff stared at her in bewilderment, all except Evzark who slammed his cleaver into the counter.

“What is this?! What is this?! None of that in my kitchen!”, the Goblin yelled, trying to shoo Jane out, “I'll allow heart attacks but no panic attacks in here!”

“Oh shut up, Evzark, you're going to give us all panic attacks going on like that”, Zeerd said, throwing a towel on the stew that now covered the floor. He was clearly as mad as the Head Chef, but was more focused on returning to work than giving Jane any mind.

“What's wrong, babe?”, Chestnut asked, laying a gentle hand on Jane's side. Her voice was soothing, but her eyes glittered with a maniacal curiosity.

“There--”, Jane swallowed, composing herself, “Is some kind of—creature out in the bar! A monster! It-it's hideous! I know Franky is—is—accepting—but, how--”. Her words escaped her and she struggled to steadying her breathing.

“Monster?”, the small Fae woman said, both confused and somewhat intrigued. She scurried out the kitchen into the bar area and returned giggling madly.

“Silly billy!”, Chestnut said, patting Jane on the knee, “That's no monster! She's just a Fae, like me!”

“That thing is nothing like you,” Jane replied, taken aback. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. How the two could be of the same species was mind boggling and only stood as another testament to how the taint of magic had perverted the world.

“Nonsense! I know she looks scary but I've been around her type before. Don't worry, her bark is far worse than her bite. I promise!,” Chestnut spoke as though she were talking to a child. She idly straightened the hem of Jane's dress and pulled up her kneesocks, the only parts of her uniform that the diminutive cook could reach.

“What happened to that hurry you were in before? Now go get 'em!”

Jane was still too scared to move and was eventually escorted out of the kitchen by Evzark whose patience had run out. She leaned against the bar and took a few deep breaths, holding onto Chestnut's reassuring words and trying her best to not look at the imposing spider creature. She hoped to keep a low profile but was quickly intercepted by Gug who, like she had expected, was less than pleased.

“We're weeded, your late.”, he said curtly.

“I'm sorry, my class--”, Jane began, but stopped as the server lifted his hand.

“We'll talk later, go help her. The others are busy”, Gug pointed at the spider creature. Jane paled, but was in no position to question him. She nodded and approached the monstrous Fae, swallowing as she tried to moisten her dry mouth.

“Hello, I'm Mille. W-welcome to the Hobbled Gobbler!”, she chirped, finding comfort in the habit of her spiel, “What can I get for you today?”

[Franky]

Franky was back behind the bar, alongside Haroth who had eyes on the large, spidery woman, as Glasha rushed pushed a tray of flagons on the edge of the bar. Haroth seemed stunned, wiping down the same flagon over and over. Franky followed his eyeline and could only laugh, shaking the Lysanrin out of it. "Man, she could pick me up and do whatever she wanted to me. I'd die a happy man."

"If you don't get back to work, I'll kill ya meself," Glasha croaked as she moved past the pair. Franky shook his head and laughed. A hard couple of seasons, but the new crew already seemed to be falling into line like a well oiled machine. Franky prepped a round of shots, setting it on the bar for the servers, seeing the most senior of which finally arrive for her shift.

Franky knew she was late, he had a pretty good internal clock. But he didn't mind, Millie had helped carry the business from the early days until now, and she was working another job and had school. She was a good lass and this wasn't the army. Some slack could be given. No one would die if Millie was late to work. He watched her put on her best 'get to work' face, a soldier heading into battle.

And then the metaphor hit a bit too close to home as he watched her face shift into pure terror and she let loose a scream and went scrambling into the back. Franky already knew what she'd seen, thankfully the bar was loud enough that most people didn't even notice the human lass' fright. But for Franky, something about that moment, reminded him of that final campaign in Zythura. Of those seasons trapped behind enemy lines, cut off from the rest of the Imperial March. Of seeing his friend, Glerk, turn tail in fright at the sight of those Imperial Airships flying overhead, enduring the cannon fire and rockets and explosions that lit up that cloudy night sky. And Franky watched as the first of the gas barrels was dropped, and Glerk died screaming in that gas, along with every other soldier and friend Franky had made.

He snapped himself out of it, hearing the drink orders that were being told to him, and in a bit of detached automation, he fulfilled the orders, hollow and empty inside, the world around him muffled. He looked up again and saw Millie exit the kitchen once more, seeing Gug approach her, not at all pleased about her tardiness. He saw words exchanged, and he saw the task he gave her. He watched her take to her task, scared but still doing it and suddenly the noise of the world returned to him.

This was why Franky respected her so much. She always showed up and she always did her damnedest, giant, sexy, spiderwomen be damned. Franky moved to the end of the bar, and Gug grunted, "She's late again." Franky nodded, "I know."

Gug looked Franky in the eye now, "With how busy we are-" Franky held up a hand, then gestured it out at the tavern, "Yes, we are busy. And the ship is running smoothly. And that frightened young lass there, who can't tell the difference between a Hobgoblin and an Orkhan, held this ship together on her own. And we were just as busy then as we are now. She was here that night when Wart Frog came to town, and there was not one unsatisfied customer."

But Franky knew he couldn't allow for the undermining of his managers so, "Just go easy on her when you talk to her about it. She's proven her loyalty more than anyone to me and the Gobbler. She's earned our loyalty in return." Gog nodded, seeming to understand, "Yes, sir."

He went about to work, and the kitchen door burst out once more and the giant mess of red curls was at Franky's side, a tray in hand with a piping plate of something Franky couldn't recognize. "Take this to the pretty Fae, she'll like it. She ain't the first of her kind to roll past this kitchen crew. Spiders are easy, they all love bugs."

Franky scrutinized the dish. "Okay, I recognize the Brawnbeetle meat in there, and their eggs. Why are the eggs brown? Are those toasted mealworms? And what is... is that kale?" Chestnut beamed, "You've got a good eye!"

Franky smiled at the Fae and she disappeared back into the kitchen, some really shrill song escaping her lips as she skipped. Franky moved through the crowd, holding the tray high, coming up as reinforcements for Millie. He smiled at the spider woman, "My cooking crew thought you might enjoy this particular meal, made it special for you." He set the plate before her, smiling and nodding. He turned and made his way back to the bar.

Slipping in behind, he poured a few fingers of some Orkhan bourbon into a couple of glasses, and waited on Millie to come back to the counter. When she did, he intended to have a quick chat with her. All the while, the next song was fully underway, and Franky joined in with it.

"Once upon a dark autumn night
I was so very far from sleep
I longed to walk beneath the stars
Into the wood so dark and deep

Neither myth nor fairy tale
could keep me from the path to the maze
But eyes upon me I could feel
Hidden in the shadows watching always

Something in the darkness pulled me deeper
Something in the madness eased my mind
Was I awake or was I dreaming
Cut the strings that bind me to mankind"

[Nnerka]

The crowd was decidedly, comfortably, less human than she had expected for a place like Zaichaer, but having moved through the city the way she did to get here — it made sense. Which was why she found it particularly interesting to hear a shriek somewhere in the crowd. One that not many others reacted to. Too caught up in the merriment of the moment. She should do much the same.

An eye caught the gaze of a bartender gawking at her, a smile turning up her lips. Fingers giving the coyest of waves before her attention was averted to the small human woman that was her server. Two eyes turned down to her, then the rest to give a full examination. Head cocked to the side, she leaned forward a bit. Bent her knees to be closer to the other. Young, but not so young as to be considered a girl. A young woman, indeed.

A frightened one, at that.

Nnerka’s smile wasn’t inherently malicious but to this stranger before her, it would be closer to a sneer. Fangs that, if she so chose, could drip venom. But no; she didn’t want to scare the woman away. Not yet. She would relish in the little bit of fear she could induce without running her off.

“Millie, is it? I’m quite...new to the area. What would you say is the.” She stopped, pressed her lips together as she thought of the word. No, the word that came to mind first sounded pretentious. “The favorite. Or — what would you recommend? Something with a bit of kick, if you don’t mind.”

The way to a lady’s heart was certainly a treacherous one, but made easier in the presence of good food. The raise of her brows as a hobgoblin man stepped up behind Millie. A plate most inviting — if she had the propensity to cry at such acts of (could this be considered kindness?) kindness, then maybe she would. Instead, she let of a series of delighted chitters that would be no easy feat to convey back to the cooking crew in gratitude. The most discernable would be the short conveyance of, “Marbled brawnbeetle eggs! Been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of those.”

[Jane Farraway]

Ash 42nd, 121. The Hobbled Gobbler, Zaichaer

“Oh...? You d-don't say?” Jane responded breathlessly, attempting to feign surprise. “How long have you, um, been in Zaichaer?”. It was difficult to imagine that such a creature would be able to even make it past the border guards. The fact that she was not mistaken for a beast and killed on sight seemed like nothing less than a lapse in security, but she then remembered that Fae had their ways of hiding themselves. Still, she had to wonder what would draw such a monster to a place that would undoubted loathe her. She shivered at the thought.

Less than fifteen minutes into her shift and sweat was already running down Jane's back. She stared blankly at the spider woman, unsure of which set of eyes to look into while wringing her clammy hands. Fae had something of an uncanny aspect to their appearance that was always vaguely unnerving, but the predatory mix of arachnid and humanoid exhibited by this specimen was more than a sight to behold, much less the size of her. Jane pulled her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth to speak before Franky swooped in carrying a large, steaming plate of beetle meat, eggs, and mealworms.

The aroma was interesting to say the least and Jane did her best to hold back a grimace, side eyeing the door to the kitchen. The halo of Chestnut's curly hair betrayed her efforts to watch in secret and she poked her head out further, flashing Jane an exaggerated wink and “OK” sign before being pulled back with some surprise. It would have been funny if it weren't for the blood chilling chitter that escaped the mandibles of their guest, but at very least she seemed appeased. For now. Jane looked at Franky and gave a pale, weak smile, appreciative of his intervention. It had given her some time to compose herself and she wiped her hands on the front of her apron and smoothed the wrinkles.

“A recommendation, yes, hmmm--”, Meriel and Gug had made it a priority for all serving staff to memorize the Vintusvarm drinks, but in that moment Jane only drew a blank. All those hours going over the menu could not have prepared her for this. She was tempted to offer an Imperial Pilsner, a safe option and a popular choice this season, but the idea that such conventional tastes would satisfy a woman who now salivated over a plate of insect meat seemed unlikely. She had to keep things “interesting”. Jane pursed her lips and looked into the distance thoughtfully, hoping that her panic would not be so apparent.

“How about a nice, big cup of Hot Beef Tea, yes?”, Jane chirped, clapping her hands together a bit louder than she had intended. “Made with one of our premium sherries and a splash of spiced beef broth! It should complement your—meal—quite nicely!”

Doubt began to settle in as Jane now questioned if they were even still featuring the drink. Not wishing to appear incompetent and risk displeasing the monstress, she raised her eyebrows and turned to her employer. “Wouldn't you agree, Franky?”

[Franky]

Franky could only smile as he watched Jane do her damnedest. He knew the lass was most uncomfortable in this situation, after all, she was a Zaichaeri human, born and bred. Everything about this place would likely bring her some discomfort over the beliefs she was raised upon. She was actively challenging so much of what she'd been taught, and she was doing so because she wanted to do good work at her job, as a barmaid.

Franky was so proud of her, he was practically radiating it from his smile.

"Oh, Hot Beef Tea would certainly go well with this dish. The warmth and deep, rich notes of the beverage will serve as a solid foundation for the dish, which would be lifted up by the drink, but finish strongly as well." He had to stifle the extra stretching of his grin at having heard the excitement in Jane's voice at coming up with the perfect recommendation for this drink. She really put her best foot forward at whatever she did, regardless of whether or not she was good or confident at it. "We make the broth in house from marinated and smoked bones, so the marrow carries a complex flavor. It's a technique popular among the Goblins back home. You won't find fresher around."

With that, he gave a small pat on Jane's shoulder, and he left her to continue her job. Franky was making his way back to the bar, nearly losing it laughing seeing Chestnut peering out the kitchen door with rapt curiosity, when someone shouted, "Lead a song, Franky!"

Others quickly joined in, looking to goad the tavern owner into it. There was surprise on their faces when he smiled broadly, nodding his head, "Y'all asked to hear this goat voice of mine, just remember that." It was a song she used to sing for him, back in his early twenties before he married his wife. Those few years, those were his and Beatrix's happiest years together. They coordinated their leaves to go on trips together, pulled strings to get assigned together. It was when things felt normal and right.

It started slow, deep and gravelly with his aged voice, tainted by the pipe smoke and cigarettes he loved dearly. With each new verse, he found a person to look at and hold the gaze of while he sang. In the third verse, he found Nnerka's eyes, and in the fifth, he would find Millie's. It was a song of love, threaded with the pain of love lost but not forgotten.

"It was no accident me finding you
Someone had a hand in it
Long before we ever knew
Now I just can't believe you're in my life
Heaven's smilin' down on me
As I look at you tonight

I tip my hat to the keeper of the stars
He sure knew what he was doin'
When he joined these two hearts
I hold everything
When I hold you in my arms
I've got all I'll ever need
Thanks to the keeper of the stars

Soft moonlight on your face oh how you shine
It takes my breath away
Just to look into your eyes
I know I don't deserve a treasure like you
There really are no words
To show my gratitude

I tip my hat to the keeper of the stars
He sure knew what he was doin'
When he joined these two hearts
I hold everything
When I hold you in my arms
I've got all I'll ever need
Thanks to the keeper of the stars

It was no accident me finding you
Someone had a hand in it
Long before we ever knew"

And when he finished, he wiped an eye and shouted, "Who needs another round?"

[Aegis]

REVIEW TIME

Closing out this thread at almost full value.


Franky

Lores:
Singing - Song: Over the Hills and Far Away
Singing - Song: Keeper of the Stars
Singing: Continuing to sing while working
Detection: Seeing the look of terror on one's face
Etiquette: Not undermining others, even when you wish to do so
Etiquette: Explaining why some people are favorites
Etiquette: Being at someone's side in a scary social situation
Resistance: Orkhan Bourbon

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 10

Comments: N/A


Jane

Lores: Choose 8 and let me know

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 10

Comments: N/A


Nnerka

Lores: Choose 4 and let me know

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 5

Comments: N/A