Post by Nadja on Oct 20, 2012 22:43:38 GMT -5
Night had befallen upon the lands and the crowds in the market area were beginning to dwindle to a few. As the colder months moved in, the crowds became less and less during the course of the night. Her day had been one of profit, she couldn't complain. Now was time to gain some warmth outwardly and inwardly both. Closing up her wagon for the evening, she head to the tavern to do just that. The door swung open to admit the tiny, colorful figure. Several layers of multicolored skirts danced about her legs as she moved with a dancers grace of ease. Feet bare of any covering, pattered quietly across the floor. The top warn was of a neutral coloration, that of a pale blue in comparison to the bright colors of skirt. Long raven mane fell freely to cascade over shoulders, framing those youthful features of the Rom. Eyes as black as coal took in her surroundings as she headed to the bar.
Meanwhile, Zahkar was shuffling along upstairs, cleaning out chamber pots and when he wasn't doing that, he was sweeping floors and polishing silver. The man looked absolutely exhausted, not only from the night spent hanging from his wrists outside at the docks, but then later, from the savage beating Carly had put on him. half his face was cut up from broken glass, and his eyes were glassy from not having slept in almost 48 hours. As he came hurrying down the stairs, the shackles connecting his wrists and ankles jingling with each step, a few of the men under Carly's employ snickered, though he did his best to ignore them. It was then that he nearly bumped into the beautiful dancer. "Excuse me..." he said, moving out of her way and hurrying to the bar.
Having been fixated upon the bar, she nearly collided with the shackled man? This made her blink when dark eyes fixed first upon the heavy metal connecting wrists and ankles. It was then the man focus shifted to next. "Suparat, Domnule." A near purr of words in that heavily accented voice. A glance towards the men whom seemed to be enjoying the shackled mans plight. It would seem they were both heading in the same direction. She frequented this establishment often enough to know this man was someone new. Though it was the first time she'd ever seen someone bound while tending to their duties. Ignoring any comments directed her way that was common place, she 'd make her way to the bar that made her look so small in size comparison to the rest of the patrons, due to her slight height.
He normally would've given this woman a second or third glance, but he was so overwhelmed by the present situation he didn't. Instead he rested for a moment against the bar and, eyeing the drinks jealously, picked up a wash cloth and began wiping down the counter. He knew if things weren't spotless when Carly got back it would be his ass. The only indication he gave to even let her knew he realized she had followed him to the bar was a brief but pleasant nod of his head.
Standing near to his resting place would afford her the ability to speak in a soft voice. "Buna seara Domnule." Attention turned to Veronica as she moved forth to serve her, the pleasant nature of her smile to then be displayed."Buna seara, Dominsoara. Mulberry wintergreen tea, vreti." Order placed, attention shifted to the shackled man. "Why tu in chains, Domnule?" An inquisitive tilt of her head while gazing upon him.
His brows rose at the strange accent of the woman; it was nice, lyrical and interesting. He glanced down at his shackles wrists and ankles and said, "Carly and the big Norse woman...." As if that alone would explain all of his troubles, no mention that he was actually a thief and had gotten caught. Then someone shouted at him to get back to work and he winced and ran over to a nearby table that needed to be cleaned off.
His response caused brows to rise in surprise. If any further questions were forthcoming, they would be muted upon her tongue when he rushed away. Attention would be drawn to the steaming mug set before her. "Multimesc, Domnisoara." Offered to the serving wench. Hands reached out to collect the warmth of the cup between them, a soft sigh of pleasure to ease past her lips. For now she'd simply hold it to enjoy the sensation it offered her hands. Dark eyes to then trail in the direction of the shackled man as more questions began to compound within her mind.
Meanwhile, Zahkar was shuffling along upstairs, cleaning out chamber pots and when he wasn't doing that, he was sweeping floors and polishing silver. The man looked absolutely exhausted, not only from the night spent hanging from his wrists outside at the docks, but then later, from the savage beating Carly had put on him. half his face was cut up from broken glass, and his eyes were glassy from not having slept in almost 48 hours. As he came hurrying down the stairs, the shackles connecting his wrists and ankles jingling with each step, a few of the men under Carly's employ snickered, though he did his best to ignore them. It was then that he nearly bumped into the beautiful dancer. "Excuse me..." he said, moving out of her way and hurrying to the bar.
Having been fixated upon the bar, she nearly collided with the shackled man? This made her blink when dark eyes fixed first upon the heavy metal connecting wrists and ankles. It was then the man focus shifted to next. "Suparat, Domnule." A near purr of words in that heavily accented voice. A glance towards the men whom seemed to be enjoying the shackled mans plight. It would seem they were both heading in the same direction. She frequented this establishment often enough to know this man was someone new. Though it was the first time she'd ever seen someone bound while tending to their duties. Ignoring any comments directed her way that was common place, she 'd make her way to the bar that made her look so small in size comparison to the rest of the patrons, due to her slight height.
He normally would've given this woman a second or third glance, but he was so overwhelmed by the present situation he didn't. Instead he rested for a moment against the bar and, eyeing the drinks jealously, picked up a wash cloth and began wiping down the counter. He knew if things weren't spotless when Carly got back it would be his ass. The only indication he gave to even let her knew he realized she had followed him to the bar was a brief but pleasant nod of his head.
Standing near to his resting place would afford her the ability to speak in a soft voice. "Buna seara Domnule." Attention turned to Veronica as she moved forth to serve her, the pleasant nature of her smile to then be displayed."Buna seara, Dominsoara. Mulberry wintergreen tea, vreti." Order placed, attention shifted to the shackled man. "Why tu in chains, Domnule?" An inquisitive tilt of her head while gazing upon him.
His brows rose at the strange accent of the woman; it was nice, lyrical and interesting. He glanced down at his shackles wrists and ankles and said, "Carly and the big Norse woman...." As if that alone would explain all of his troubles, no mention that he was actually a thief and had gotten caught. Then someone shouted at him to get back to work and he winced and ran over to a nearby table that needed to be cleaned off.
His response caused brows to rise in surprise. If any further questions were forthcoming, they would be muted upon her tongue when he rushed away. Attention would be drawn to the steaming mug set before her. "Multimesc, Domnisoara." Offered to the serving wench. Hands reached out to collect the warmth of the cup between them, a soft sigh of pleasure to ease past her lips. For now she'd simply hold it to enjoy the sensation it offered her hands. Dark eyes to then trail in the direction of the shackled man as more questions began to compound within her mind.
