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[DND] Fancy Meeting You Here - Printable Version

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Fancy Meeting You Here - Pushok - 14 December 2021

Gather information from a visitor - Guardsman I]]

[Image: Giftfrom-Shadeby-Corie.png]So the word had come to town that there was a certain someone within their borders that Pushok had the pleasure of meeting several times before. The lovely Pontifex, an Ashen from the mainland, was visiting for some reason or another, and quite soon after her last trip to the Cavalier's land. It came to him as a curiosity, and as his experience as a training Guardsman, he only found that it was proper to get a little information on why she was here, as well a catch up with her on things that were going on at home.

That was all he needed to convince himself to get up, get ready and head towards the Fort. There, he gathered up Podarok and settled the tack on the animal before setting out for the journey. The crisp winter breeze picked up once he was out of the embrace of the Fort's walls, but despite the cold, his mood was high.

Reaching Wolfville didn't take a terribly long amount of time, and it wasn't long until the clopping of heavy hooves reached the cobblestone paved streets. Up through the roads, he directed his steed through to the Five Sheilds. Hopefully, he could get some word as to where she was, if she wasn't within the confines of the pub itself.

After hitching Podarok outside of the pub, Pushok made his way through the threshold. The fire-warmed belly of the pub was inviting as his eyes drew over the faces of the patrons there, and of all of them, the wild locks of the Ashen woman were not hard to spy, “Poentifiex!” Pushok rang aloud, “I hierd yeu were hiere! Wielcome baeck!”

He relented his watchful position by the door and made his way over to the table where she sat. The Hushhowl man gestured with a friendly hand to ensure that she didn't rise to the occasion, and instead, he took a seat beside her. A hand gestured up and a finger spun around in a circle, calling for a round on him, “Whaet riesoen have yeu coem baeck?”


RE: Fancy Meeting You Here - Pontifex Troy Lykoi - 22 December 2021

Maybe the indulgence had been unwise, she reflected, as the morning found her seated in the Five Shields with a steaming mug of cider and nursing a headache that she was sure to remember for the rest of her days.

A nausea settled low in her stomach, rolling and rolling still until she must fill it with something or risk heaving the scant contents across the table. Josephine brought her some bread, and broth when she called for it, and Pontifex thanked her so very gratefully, cautiously sipping at the hot liquid and filling her stomach with tiny bites of soaked bread.

In the quiet of the bar, the murmurs of discussion and the occasional clink of glass, it was a somewhat peaceable place. Her name sailed across the bar, catching her unawares with an unhappy throb of her sore head.

Wincing, nevertheless excited however, Pontifex turned in her seat, her gentle smile breaking as the summer waves across her pale face to see her friend,

"Pushok!" Though her voice was less loud than his, it was still enough to ring about in the vast inside of her mind. Squinting, the Ashen woman rubbed at her eyes tiredly as Pushok made his way to her, and his gesture aborted her movement to stand and greet him properly.

"Ahh, zhank you. Iet ies glad to zee you about and zo well looking."

He had been one of the floored ill when she had been here last. She had watched him, cared for him when his wife had needed to leave until she had returned. A more suspicious person made have been counted contemptuous of her honest enjoyment of his presence.

As frank as she might be, the Ashen woman slipped her hand into the crux of his arm and reached too bestow a friendly kiss upon his cheek, her teeth brought to bear in an exceedingly friendly smile, her gladness there in her face.

"Ahh...!!" She laughed, removing her arm to press her hand against her face in an almost embarrassed motion, easy and free with her emotions.

"Iet ies zo zilly. I left my muffler behind when I was 'ere last. Ezra was zo kind enough to zend me a message telling me zo. I could not find it, I was very upzet." As if to give a weight to her words, her hand came to the scarf about her throat, stroking it as if it might have been a pet, but in truth and trust it was a precious thing to her and this was not lost upon her actions.

Given to her by an important person. Perhaps it was foolish in their world for her to hold fast to a material possession, but Pontifex had little else but her memories to hold fast to.

Josephine returned, beckoned at Pushok's insistence, and left him the drink of his desire, but Pontifex was still content with her breath and broth and only required a glass of water.

RE: Fancy Meeting You Here - Pushok - 7 February 2022

Tired eyes greeted him and was that a bit of pain in that wince of hers? Pushok, ever the dull edge, wasn't exactly terribly aware of how his volume might be affecting her. His smile bright and energy in his features and in his words carried on unapologetically.

As her gesture asked of him, he leaned in for the peck on his cheek. Always the friendly thing Pontifex was, it didn't come off as anything more than a gracious greeting.

With a laugh and the hand against her face, the answer to his question came. When her hand pressed on the cloth, he nodded his head with a chuckle, "Caen't geu withoeut dhat," He encouraged her, after all, simple things could hold the weight of the world on them for some souls. Even the very collar that decorated his throat was once such thing, so he understood how something so small could mean so much to someone, "Ezra... He iz a geud maen," He commended the Honored Elder that wasn't present with them. It was a kindness that some might not go to length all for the sake of a fancy scarf.

Two drinks came, one stiff and the other to quench Ponti's thirst. Pushok's hand wrapped around the mug that was placed for him on the table, feeling the weight of it before tipping it to his lips and taking some in, "Loeng day?" His notes rumbled with a crooked grin as he gestured with his free hand toward the water that Ponti had called for, "Or deu yeu haev moer teu deu?" He still hadn't connected the dots for exactly what had her suffering in the Five Shields.


RE: Fancy Meeting You Here - Pontifex Troy Lykoi - 21 March 2022

It was easy, she reflected, to make friends with this bright and bubbly man, he was as he appeared, and Pontifex was drawn to the honest openness, definitely it made a difference spend less energy pulling secrets from the deep as fish caught on the line.

Narrowly her thoughts slipped to Wayne, tight lipped about what ailed him. Ponti agreed with him though, as to Ezra's character and nodded her head before remembering the throbbing pain that erupted behind her eyes and winced.

"Zuch a good man, 'Ee and my Mère 'ave done business for a long time now. Zince before I was born." How true her words, spoken with their unerring knowledge. Pontifex grinned wryly, rubbing at the tension between her eyes with an idle hand and leaned her head against the hand that braced its elbow upon the wood of the table.

Gripping her own drink, she sipped gratefully at the cool water, before peering up curiously at his words. Between his gaze and her drink and confusion furrowed her brows for only a moment before the penny dropped and again she broke out into her sheepish smile.

"Ahh, ahaha, no no. Long night. Ief.. ief.. She said, gesturing with her pointer finger, to emphasize the faux-seriousness of her words, ... ief zhat damnable Bajan man invites you to join 'im in 'is celebrations, do not." Though for her speech, she was grinning and giggling at her own expense,

"I am zurprised you 'ave not 'eard. Zhere was enough of zhe Cavaliers cheering us on. Unzurprizingly I lost zhe drinking competition, and I 'ad to zing as a forfeit. 'Ee was zo kind as to play zhe bowls like drums as a beat zhough."

Kind of like the insides of her brain were pounding with a similar beat, thump thump thump. Maybe staying in bed had been the better decision to make. Pontifex took a larger gulp of her water, and grimaced against the swishing of her unsettled insides.

"'Ow is your wife zhough? She was very upzet when I zaw 'er last... underztandably..." Pontifex hoped one day to have herself a love to hold in the way she had seen the red-tinted woman looking down at him. Such a fierce protectiveness, it had taken her breath away amidst the terror and tragedy.