An inn and tavern in Hasu Vale, run by Skye and Mi'ehna Sheridan Sands. It isn't an upscale place, really, but it is high up and thusly cleaner and better than the few below it.

The ground floor has a comfortable bar and sitting room, a public bathroom for patrons who are not also guests, and the owners' quarters. Directly up the wooden staircase by the entrance lies the guest hall, which has four sizable chambers and a communal steam room. Downstairs, behind the sealed gateway hidden within a curtain of vines, is the Hall of Lost Pages.

The entire establishment is framed by a vast porch connected to a bridge and a pulley system.



Section Directory

Locations

Hasu Vale
Redwood Light
Guest List

Inside Redwood Light

Guest Hall
Hall of Lost Pages
Redwood Library
Mi'ehna and Skye's Room

Guest Chambers

Amber Room
Garnet Room
Jade Room
Onyx Room

Hall of Lost Pages

Aster Cove
Evergreen Trail
Foreverland
Ojepse
Rosewood Forest



Mi'ehna Sands runs the brush through her golden hair for the ten thousandth time that day, her mind as ever trolling with the question of whether her flyer would be effective or not. She lies upon the bar in the belly shirt and pirate pants of which she has become so fond, gazing quietly at the ceiling, and wondering. Since this whole mess with the gates started, business has been pretty slim... and she is bored.

Skye watches his wife with a smile that is both lovign and amused. He didn't dare tell her, but she is rather adorable when she's bored.
"Don't worry, My Light, I'm sure someone will help us."

Actually, it's not too long after he says this that a fin-eared creature, a very obvious full-blooded mer, walks into the establishment. One eye is hidden beneath a patch, and she generally looks like the kind of scruffy person you don't want to introduce your children to. Her eye scans over the establishment...only two people here. Okay. She raises a piece of paper: Mi'ehna's flyer. "You two Mi'ehna and Skye Sands Diamond?"

Mi'ehna sits up at the voice, and slides off the bar. "Just Sands, so far as I know. Hello, I am Mi'ehna!" She holds out her hand, adorned with a glimmering moonstone that never leaves her third finger. "Skye, look! Someone actually received one of my flyers!"

Skye smiles. Diamond had been his name a while ago, but he'd forgotten about it.
"Welcome. I'm Skye Sands."

The mer takes Mi'ehna's hand with her own long-fingered, distinctly webbed one. "Reil. A pleasure." She looks over to Skye, and nods acknowledgement.

"Reil. Would you like a drink, or some food, before we talk about jangling purses in your future?" Mi'ehna struts her way behind the bar, where the floor is a bit taller than the floor outside to keep her from looking as short as her five foot frame actually is. "And we can talk about your qualifications."

Skye regards Reil with curiosity, wondering what kind of person she is, exactly.

"A drink would be great. Got light alcohol?" The mer heads over to the bar at a fighter's trained step that still looks a bit awkward, since it's a land gait.

Mi'ehna flashes Reil a playful smile. "Well, you see how massive I am. If I sniffed heavy alcohol I would pass out." She disappears under the desk for a moment, and comes back up a second later with two bottles, one dark blue, one white. "Malt liquor okay with you?"

"Perfect. So. Qualification talk first, then, or do we light candles and get to know each other?"

Mi casts a glance at Skye, as she mixes the drink. "Honey, would you like to invite a mer into our bed?"

Skye has long since gotten used to his wife's teasing. There's pretty much nothing she can say that will render him speechless.
"Only if she doesn't kick the way you do," he replies smugly. Mi doesn't kick, of course. Well, only when she's havign fighting dreams, so he's only teasing.

To Reil, he says, "Do you have any question right off that the flyer might not have addressed?"

"Discounting the facts that I don't really understand magic and so half of what was in the flyer?" The mer sips her drink, then smiles sweetly. "Not really. I'm applying to be the dumb muscle who also keeps the stupid people from eating poisonous things." She's already decided she likes Mi'ehna, as far as she can tell. Still deciding about Skye.

"I should hire you on the spot," Mi laughs, pushing a pale blue cup full of pale blue liquid towards Reil. "It is on the house. I have to tell you that these worlds behind the gates are highly magical. You might be in a lot of danger if you cannot deal with it." She smiles a crooked smile, the golden light glowing from her eyes casting its color a bit upon the bar. "But you seem smart enough to have figured that out."

The mer grins at Mi'ehna a little, takes the little blue cup, and raises it a bit. "I know enough to know I'm magic resistant. I know the score. Someone tries to use magic to drop a tree on me, I run. Someone tries to enchant me, then I stab him somewhere that'll make him a soprano."

Skye smirks. I like this one, Mi.

"Yes, me too." Mi glances at Reil, and then at Skye, and back again. "I am an empath, but Skye and I have become close enough that we can communicate mind to mind as if I were a telepath... by all means, if you miss something, tell us. One of us has probably left out a question." Her never-painted fingernails dance upon the smooth bartop for a moment. "So can you tell us a bit about your skills?"

"Well..." the mer smells the blue drink first, finds nothing particularly dangerous smelling, and takes a small sip of the strange stuff. "I'm primarily a bounty hunter, so I can hold my own in the fight...have a thing for this polearm weapon of mine here, but I can make good use of pretty much anything that gets put in my hands. Good to have on your side in a bar room brawl, all in all. Can also choose freely between killing or capturing or disabling, since I do all habitually. I'm a survivalist, somewhat magic resistant...and, oh yeah..." she waggles her webbed hand... "I swim real good."

"Well. If your brain is as smart as your ass you should have no trouble at all. Skye, would you like something while I am mixing?" She pours a drink for herself, and knocks it back while she waits for him to answer. "Gak... someday, I will be able to do that without grimacing." 

"I don't want anything right now, my love." He looks to Reil. "There's nothing specific in these..." how to explain? "Dimmensions? I suppose. Nothing specific in there that we need killed or captured or disabled. Basically, we want to know why they've started to grow on their own, and if it's a threat to us, we want it stopped."

"Yes, well...I'd love to do my best to avoid being digested by something smelly in the process. Hence, the beatings." The mer sips the blue drink again. Actually, it's pretty good. "What is this?"

Mi sits upon the bartender's stool, also adjusted to fit her height. "That is essence of blueberry and aged mead, and candied milk." She looks to the hatch leading downstairs, eyes as quiet as her lips, for a moment. "I believe the dimensions are not growing in a literal sense, though they sort of are. I think that they are starting to disperse."

Skye nods. "Their magic seems to keep the house intact, but they need to be... controlled."

"Well, not that I'm trying to put myself out of a job, but...considered 'moving,' maybe?" the mer inquires.

Skye smirks a bit. He hasn't even told Mi'ehna this, but Hasu Vale is a very safe place, and he thought that they could start a family here. Moving was not an option. Especially since they'd travelled so much already.
"We could, but if we let this get out of hand, it might spread to the other houses in the city. If we can control it, we can keep it within just this tavern, sparing anyone else any trouble."

"Besides, this house was a labor of love. A friend of ours created it for us... not to mention the possibility that the lives of those inside the worlds are at risk, should something happen to the gates."  Mi'ehna pours another drink for herself. "I hope you do not mind, but we are going to insist on testing you a little."

Reil tilts her head, then grins. "Drinking contest?"

If Buddybot were here, maybe, Skye thinks, smiling. "Not quite."

Mi'ehna smiles softly. "Do not tempt me. I could lose to myself in a drinking contest..." Her smile broadens. "Skye, would you mind officiating?" Mischeif glows in the golden lights within her eyes.

Reil blinks at Mi'ehna. "Why do I get the feeling that you're about to bite me in the neck?"

"She only does that to me," Skye clarifies with a grin. "If you're up to it now, I'd like to test your battle skills."

Mi'ehna pouts. "Fine. We will get sloshed later, Reil."

"Right. The sloshing, then with the biting." She finishes what's in her glass in a swig, and stands up. "Okay. Who am I fighting? You, pretty?" She's actually talking to Skye, not Mi'ehna, despite the words.

"I'll be waiting on the porch when you're ready," Skye says, pulling something out from under the bar. A sword. He buckles it to his hip and walks out a side archway to a huge porch with a wonderful view of the treetop city.

"Swords," Reil mutters as she slides reluctantly off the bar stool to follow... "what is it with with pretty young men always having the bloody swords? Why never flails or staves or something cool? I mean, I get the 'phallic' argument, but a good war axe is a whole hell of a lot bigger..." she continues this conversation with herself all the way outside, only half under her breath. Once she gets out to the porch, she immediately points accusingly at Skye just before screaming at the top of her lungs. "People like you are the reason people like me can't get laid!"

Then, perfectly calm and collected again, the mer pulls out her halved halbert and locks it together within about two seconds. "So. What's the rule?"

Skye blinks. Does she have some sort of mental disorder?
"Basically," he says, still somewhat thrown by her behavior, "Draw blood. I don't care how. You claim to be able to work with any weapon." He grins.

A number of the treetop people have stopped to watch, sitting in tree braches or stopping their pulley elevators to stare.

"Not any weapon. Just sharp things and dead fish and liquor bottles. And stools. I like stools," Reil is careful to clarify. About two-thirds of the way through the statement, she casually raises a weapon that the showy halbert had drawn interest away from and a crossbow bolt goes careening for a relatively harmless part of Skye's shoulder.

Almost effortlessly, a wing composed of light sprouts from his back and deflects it, the fragments breaking apart afterward. Skye unsheaths Fairfight and darts forward, slashing in a horizontil motion.

Reil blinks at this with two different pairs of eyelids, leaping back with surprising grace considering her clumsy-looking walk. She has every intention of using her halbert's much greater reach to its full advantage and blocks the oncoming blade in a way that will let a little footwork on her part help...she jerks to a side, trying to use the sword as a fulcrum that will send the spear-like axe point of her halbert into his hip.

The way she moves is really pretty quirky...even when she moves fast, nothing quite seems that way, whether by ease of movement or, much more likely, the fact that the quirkiness of her personality doesn't let any stress or strain in right now.

Skye jumps back, surprised at how well she moves. Well then. He drops Fairfight an inch, then shoots off a solid shaft of light at her, throws the sword to the other hand, then darts in again.

"Now what in the hell no fireworks? You singed my hair you mysogynist." She'd avoided the light thingy by the skin of her teeth, and, as she realizes that Skye really is a much better fighter than her, does what any self-respecting low life female bounty hunter would do: swings the blunt end of the halbert's head right up between his legs.

The treetop people watching whoop and shreik in delight. And they're supposed to be a peaceful people.

Unfortunately for Skye, he didn't count on that, and he crumbles to the ground. light exploding in all directions. Lord of Light! He barely manages to stand after that, and immediately puts both hands on Fairfight's hilt, raises it and thrusts with all he's got left. Which isn't much.

Mi'ehna comes running to the window, and peers out.

"What was that, who screamed?" Concern is written upon her face... she just knew that wooden weapons would have been a good investment.

Reil isn't really attacking right now...she's just doing her damndest to stay out of Skye's way until she gets a good chance to hit him back. She definitely can't fight him head-on, that's for damned sure, but with the doubtless phenomenal pain in his crotch, she'll get her best chance for a little if she can find an opening in the next minute or so. "I did it! No wait. Sorry. That's right. He did." She shrieks randomly. "Okay, there you go."

Skye's pretty sure he's about that close to not being able to move. He's pushing it, really. So he steps back and resorts to another light attack, shooting out a rain of pale gold beams at Reil.

"Eh what the hell...?!" She fades back into a really defensive position, halbert head in font of her face and the naturally armoured fins on her forearms covering her chest, head low.

Skye staggers a bit, but darts back in with another attack. This one is obviously weaker than the last, though.

Reil hadn't been badly hurt by the startling rain attack due to her body's resistant properties...she's left with very little time to react to Skye's charge, though. "Eh?! Aren't you tired yet? Want to go play with your sword or something? Hey come on..." she tries to roll aside--pretty quickly, though whether it's enough is anyone's guess--and lashes at his ankle as she goes with the ax tip of her halbert. It's only meant to be a glancing blow even if it does connect...she's looking for blood, no more.

Treeklo walks out from behind a tree, looking at a map puzzled.
"Redwood tavern....Redwood tavern" He looks up and around finally noticing the fight.
"AH! At last." He throws away the map an heads towards the area where an obviously skill test was going on.

"Oh, hello," Mi'ehna greets him from her place at the window, watching the 'test'. "Checking in?"

Skye isn't very fast to begin with, and the added weakness of... well. It would have been surprising had the slash missed. A breif explosion of light surrounds him as he stumbles, a shallow cut just above his ankle.

"Yes...Whoah!" Treeklo shouted, covering his sight. "Sensible eyes over here. Jeez." He lowered his arm and said:
"I'm bounty hunter Treeklo Totalli from the 'The retrievers' crew. I'm looking for..." He lifted the flyer to his eyes and read out: "Skye and...Meena or something. Am I in the right place?" 

"Ugh," Mi'ehna glances at Treeklo, eyes narrowing a bit. "It is 'Mee-EH-nuh' and yes, this is our tavern. The handsome man who is fighting the inhuman highlight reel out there is my husband, Skye." She looks out the window, not really worried, but checking anyway. "No injuries, I hope?"

"Yiii!" Reil covers her eyes...she's seeing spots. "Goddamnit would you stop that where are you?!" She doesn't know the halbert had connected, the glow had been too glancing to notice with a sharp weapon.

"Reil, it is okay, you did it!" Mi'ehna calls out the window, hoping to forestall any poking of her husband with the sharp pointy.

Skye laughs. "I'm sorry if I blinded you. It should only be temporary,though."

"So...can go back to the bar now? Right pretty?" Reil's still dazzled.

He grins. "Go ahead. I'm done testing you. Mi'ehna might have something else, though..." the last directed at his wife. What do you think, my love?

"I think that anyone who knows to go for the groin should be able to handle herself," Mi'ehna giggles, answering his question verbally. "Reil, come back inside, please, and have another drink."

He makes a silly face at her and falls back on the porch, looking up at the branches, then looks to Treeklo. "Please don't kick me in the crotch should I have to test you," he says.

"Right back at ya." Treeklo replies whilst aproaching the building. "Anyways, I'm here for the job. Has she taken it or is it a "more than one person" gig?"

"Uh-uh. I need someone to do the stupid stuff," Reil notes. She half runs into a doorframe, still dazed from Skye's light. "...ow."

"Stupid stuff? Do I have stupid stamped on my face?" He points to his face and adds a scar to his forehead showing 'stupid'.
"Don't answer that...and hey, as long as I get a bounty, I won't complain."

Reil tilts her head quite far to one side, blinking first one set of eyelids, and then the other. "Bounty? Did you even read the flyer? Nevermind. The bounty's on the head of a pink vampire rabbit that lives down on the ground down there. Go get it. Meantime..." the mer points at the inn. "I'm'a go drink until I see pink purple-spotted vampire bunnies." She heads inside, taking apart her polearm as she goes.

"You know, it seemed to me she won the fight... Normal person'd be happy." Treeklo comments comically confused.

"I think that is happy," Mi'ehna observes with a scratch of her hair. She glances through her window again, tsking quietly. "Skye, come inside and see about that scratch while I mix our guests some drinks." She turns, not waiting for his response, and takes up her blue and white bottles to begin mixing again.

"That's great. This sun's killing me, has this place ever heard of wind?" Treeklo jests, aproaching Sky. "Can you walk right?"

Marten enters the the bar quietly, closing the door behind him. He leans his half stave against the door jamb before heading to the bar and finding a stool to sit on. Waiting for whoever is in charge of drinks to notice him, he flicks a small piece of lint from his long green sleeves.

Mi'ehna raises her eyes at the sound of the door, and pushes a cup of her unusual liquor to the edge of the bar for Reil. Shortly after a second cup is set next to Treeklo, and the co-owner of the tavern allows herself to glance at the newcomer.

"Welcome," she greets him in a practiced sort of way, "may I help you, sir?"

Marten looks around curiously, impressed with the surroundings.

"What do you folks have to drink? I'm thirsty." He pauses, looking in his black leather, messenger belt pouch, and producing a flyer. "I also got one of these, and I'm here to offer my help."

"Well, if you want it, we have it." Mi'ehna beams her precious little smile, tickled pink that her flyer is getting attention. It had been her first attempt at writing something that would be seen by other people, and she is quite proud of it. "Have a seat, and let us talk about your qualifications." She glances at Treeklo, and shouts sidelong, "I will need to hear yours as well, when you get a moment." Her eyes turn back to Marten, twinkling in their golden glow. "I am Mi'ehna. Skye is outside... the animated-mer is Reil, and the pale fellow is Treeklo. May I have your name, and your preference?"

"My name is Marten, and I like ale or mead. But I like to try new things." Marten replies with a grin. "I'm an adventurer, and I make my living here and there, but my affiliations are with the Knighthood of the Watch, and King Legge of Eire.

"Wow, a knight huh? That's really impressive...Though I still think it was downright rude to question him first!" Treeklo complained, comically, to Mi'ehna. "Its because I spelt your name wrong isn't it?" he jested.

"Oh, well, you were speaking with my husband before. I did not wish to interrupt." Mi'ehna turns and rummages behind the bar for a moment, coming up with a dusty, musty old bottle of mead. "I love honey," she idly observes, "but not mead so much. Will you have something as well, Treeklo?" The second she asks as she fills a cup for Marten.

Marten sips the very old mead appreciatively. "Well, that is fine. How long has it been sitting down there?" He asks, taking another sip.

"A while. Much of our stock comes from my friend's cellar." Mi'ehna returns the bottles as she speaks, always a dutiful barkeep if for no other reason than that the novelty of it has yet to wane.

Marten smiles happily, draining the cup. "How much is left in that bottle?" He asks, pleased well with the quality of the drink. "Oh, we were going to speak about the problem you're having."

"That would be fun now would it? And I don't drink thank you, my intestines would rot and bleed from the inside out." Treeklo Bluntly told them, adding "Ya bloody alcoholics! No but really, I am interested."

Skye comes back in at this, muttering something in Mardioma that might translate to "Why does everyone delight in kicking me there?" He leans against the bar, watching his wife and observing the knight. And they'd been worried no one would reply to the flyer. He grins.

Marten turns to glance at the new arrival, and grins in reurn. "Hello there, I'm Marten."

Mi'ehna gives a quirky sort of look to Treeko. "Thank you for that explanation. Beh... our problem. Marten, Treeklo, I trust that you have no problem in allowing me a small test of your skills? My husband should rest, after testing Reil, and I really must insist. I cannot send incapable people to their deaths." She beams at them, her expression filled with such charm that, if one did not know better, one might think she glows. "At least, not nice ones who still need to pay for drinks."

Reil snickers at this, and raises her drink. "At least two bars will prolly go bankrupt if I die. Cheers to the intestine rotting goodness." She takes a drink.

Treeklo gives out a mild laugh.
"You're a funny gal. And no, I don't mind who tests me. Just lead the way and name the rules."

Mi'ehna takes her malted liquor amalgamation, and taps her glass against the bar. "Cheers." She knocks it back, and then glances at Treeko. "You will have to fight me. Unlike my darling man, I have some training weapons... so there should be no damage. More, Reil?"

"I don't need training weapons. I can turn my arm into a sword shaped thingie, but it's still my arm. Is that an issue?"

"So long as you keep in mind that it is a spar only, it should be alright. Help is no good to me if I have to break bones to protect myself, right?" She tilts her head over a little bit, a crooked grin set upon her face.

"I'm good, thanks," Reil responds with a buzzed little smile. "Can't drink myself into thinking y'all are pink giraffes for at least..." here she checks an non-existant timepiece, "four more hours."

Marten nods his own assent, and rises from the stool. "I'm ready when anyone else is."

"Do you have a preference in weapons, mister Marten?" Mi'ehna trots out from behind the bar and steps down, looking once again like she is as tall as she actually is. Still, she loves being five feet tall... it makes people underestimate her.

"Oh, good," Reil mutters, maybe slurring just a little, "alcohol and a show." She slides off the stool and wanders out after them.

"Bastard swords, although any number of weapons will do," he replies, following her politely. "Do you prefer any?"

"Such language from a knight!" The empath chuckles a quiet chuckle. "Polearms," she answers in a more serious tone, "spears, and halberds, and pikes. They compensate for my size to give me some range."

Marten grins, "I think you know what I mean. Now, you said you had blunted weapons? Or shall I use my own sword?" He moved into the shade of a tree, the sun threatening to burn his fair skin.

"I do. Give me a moment to get some together... and be careful about standing there." Mi'ehna points to the tree which Marten has chosen for shade. "One of the planks came loose in the railing there, and it is a long way down should you misstep." Mi'ehna disappears for just a moment into her room, to seek a couple of training weapons for these tests.

Marten peers over the edge curiously, taking care upon which plank he steps, and avoiding losing his balance. "Hey it is a long way down there."

"Who builds houses in the trees, anyway?" Reil grumbles. She's...afraid of heights to some extent.

Marten bounces slightly, and moves away from the edge, excited simply by being so far up in the air. "It didn't seem like that many stairs!"

Mi'ehna returns from her room a moment later with an armload of training weapons... all authentic, though enchanted with runes that surround the edges with force shields, blunting them. A pure halberd, not as customized as Reil's nifty device, a couple of daggers, a shamshir, a rapier, and a bastard sword. It's quite an armload, and she drops them without ceremony upon the ground.

"We like it up here," she answers Reil's question, "it is quiet. And when the wind whispers through these leaves, it sounds like a gentle tide beneath the setting sun."

Marten takes up the long sword, hefting it to feel it's weight and balance. "Hmmm... nice, and this won't cut anything?" He twirls it a few times, makes a few preemptory slashes at the air, and lets the tip touch the ground, taking the weight from his hand. "Well balanced, it handles nicely."

Mi'ehna takes up the halberd, after tightening her sash. "Well. Training weapons are no good for training if they do not feel real. And no, they will not cut. Now... you do not have to 'defeat' me, just prove competence. And do not be afraid to strike me just because I am a pretty woman."

Skye grins. "She's as strong as she is beautiful..." he mutters as a warning.

"I'm not afraid to hit you just cause you're a pretty woman," Reil offers helpfully. She's going to watch the fight...but is away from the edge of the balcony. Keep that drop the hell away from her.

Treeklo looked at the two shocked. "Hey Marten, if you want too, you can go first." He sarcastically said with a fun smile. "Unfortunally, I'm getting to the battle ground first!" Treeklo hurriedly gets off the bench and stampedes his way outside, there, he turns his right arm and hand into a blade-shaped and shouts:
"I'm ready!"

Mi'ehna taps the halberd against the planks, gazing from pale fellow to pale fellow. "Are you suggesting I fight you both?"

"No, I'm suggesting you fight me first." Treeklo says.

Marten says nothing and sits on a step, resting the sword against his knee, as he watches the two prepare to meet.

"I suppose," Mi'ehna answers, giving a glance at Marten to make sure it is alright with him, "that would be alright." She rolls her shoulders a bit to make sure that her muscles are not too cold, and lifts her halberd into a plainly defensive stance emphasizing the spear-tip. "Alright. Show me what you have, Treeklo."

"What is this? Free for all? What're the rules?"

Mi'ehna's weapon does not shift position. "Ehm... it is a spar. All you have to do is prove to me that some yuppie down below will not slay you at a glance. Do not damage my tavern, and do not try to hurt me more than necessary... unless you have a death wish, of course."

Reil grins brightly at this. She does so like Mi'ehna.

"No mam, I do so much like living." He takes a fighting stance. "Just tell me when to stop." And with that, his legs stretch abnormaly sending his sword shaped arm straight for her chest.

Attempting a finishing blow immediately?  The distance of the attack allows Mi'ehna plenty of time to see it coming, and so she cleanly sidesteps to her right and brings the axe-head of her halberd down towards Treeklo's arm. She does hope that he had thought to blunt his sword, as her halberd has been.

Treeklo smirks as he takes the hit on his arm whilst grabbing hold of the floor with his stretched left hand; taking advantage of his momentum and Mi'ehna defended blow, he brings his feet towards her face in a a sorry excuse for a cartweel.

Mi'ehna's lip twitches. With her halberd down, she sidesteps again and places the haft between his feet and her head, shrugging him off. 

"Treeklo, that kind of offense will only get you killed," she grumbles, not losing her defensive stance just yet. "It is folly to thrust against a polearm at that range, perhaps even more dangerous to use your feet when your opponent wields a blade. Had this weapon not been blunted, I would have taken your arm off immediately."

"This is only for training purposes." Treeklo explains, pointing to his arm. "In combat, I use an actual sword and that plan would have worked, maybe." Treeklo smiles. "But okay, let's do this slowly then and if I'm allowed..." He turns his left arm into another sword and slowly advances towards Mi'ehna, thinking. He decides to use its lenghts against her. Once she was inside a certain permiter, all he had to do was fend off lateral and upwards attack, not let her back up for distance. He stepps really fast and hits the halberd aside, trying to get closer.

Better, Mi'ehna says to herself, though she would not have chosen this weapon without being aware of its minimum range issues. As soon as his sword makes contact with the tip of her weapon she takes a half step back and jabs with the blunted spearhead, a quick, short-distance thrust aimed for the shoulder. 

Reil watches this amusedly...and apparently isn't that good at observing the "don't distract the fighters" rule. It's not like there aren't distractions in combat anyway. "Well, may not be great attacking polearm bearers, but can you hire him because he has a nice ass?" She has a good view from where she's sitting.

Skye grins. He likes Reil well enough and is sure Mi'ehna agrees that they should hire her, at least. Treeklo might need another test, though.

Treeklo took the hit on his shoulder turning around a bit nearly falling onto the ground. He massaged it while getting up:
"There went my arm right? It's really odd to fight when there's no danger." Treeklo comments smiling. "You're now thinking I'm just making excuses." He turns his blade arms back into their normal selves. He then slaps his hands together while saying "You're about to see why I can adapt to any physical fight." A glowing blue shines his hands that let go and slap against his chest. His clothes, though still normal, change into uniform colour and not the best one either. Purple and dark blue. His arms then stretch into pole lenght and he moves on Mi'ehna, using his right pole to take to attack her weapon and his left to attack her.

A pole on each side? Now that Mi'ehna has killed or dismembered him twice, she figures that it may as well be time for a lesson. Knowing that having something of that length sticking out from one's arms is going to do little except place Treeklo into a precarious balance and slow his reaction time, she decides that enough is enough, and dashes between the obviously cumbersome poles, spearhead thrusting directly towards his crotch. Hey, old tricks are the best tricks.

Treeklo jumps up towards her, with the pole barely scratching his middle section. In mid-air, he does his best to close down his poles on her.

Mi'ehna combat rolls with the momentum of her thrust, and tosses down her halberd once she gets balance. "That is enough," she nods, "you will do."

Marten stands up. "Am I to be next, then?" He sniffs and waves away some insect, picking up his sword and feeling it out once more.

"Yes, that's great." Treeklo says but then, by a mere trickery of fate...he instantaniously combusts. Burns up in a second with a little muffled explosion. 

"If you feel up to it, but..." Mi turns her head. Well. You don't see that every day. "Skye, would you care to take this one? I am going to go and get a broom."

"Yes, my love." Now that he's got his fight back in him. He looks down at the pile of what used to be Treeklo. Lord of Light...
"So... you're a knight?" Skye regards Marten with something like curiosity. He didn't look much like any kind of knight he'd ever seen.

Marten grins, "It's a title. I'm technically a Knight-Errant, but all that means in reality is "adventurer". It sounds alot better, and it does give the Knight-Protectors and the Preceptors some measure of control over me." Marten stretches his limbs in a sort of warm up routine. "I had alot of training, and I do have formal armor, but it tends to attract attention. I generally need to be a bit inconspicuous and unaffiliated when I'm on business. The Knights of the Watch haven't really gone out of their way to make friends over the years."

Mi'ehna returns a moment later with a dustpan and a broom, and sings quietly to herself as she sweeps up Treeklo into a neat little pile. "You must be a long way from home, then, Marten." She trots over to the edge of the railing and dumps the ashes down the dust chute at the edge of each house. With a bright smile she turns back to the others. "All done!"

Marten smiles with a faraway look in his eyes. "Yes, yes I am. I haven't seen my home for some time now, and I do miss it." He shakes his head as if clearing it of the nostalgia, and returns his attention to the present. "Adventure however, is what I was put in this world to live for."

"It is a noble enough cause, I think. Um... Marten?" Mi'ehna takes a few steps towards him, and sets her broom and dustpan back in their places against the outer wall. "Could I ask a favor of you, for when you and my husband fight?"

"I hope you're going to ask him not to kick me," Skye mutters under his breath.

Mi makes kissy lips at her husband. "Actually, that was exactly what I was going to ask. What do you think, Marten? Can you spare his manhood further injury?"

Marten blinks his surprise, "I assume your husband has problems with people kicking that most sensitive area? I will restrain myself as I always do, I never have condoned kicking an opponent in that region, it's an unseemly tactic." Marten inclines his head slightly toward Skye. "Are we agreed my friend? I'll not kick you there, and you might refrain from the same." Marten pauses, "Although, you might consider a codpiece at least, even if you don't normally wear armor, it does a fine service when a less honorable opponent strikes one there."

"Well, it works very well. But I appreciate that." Mi grins at both of them and steps back to sit upon a keg, legs crossing and kicking idly.

"Agreed," Skye says. And really, there are only two... maybe three people Skye would consider using the 'unseemly tactic' on, and Marten isn't one of them. Mi... what's a codpiece?

"A codpiece is a piece of armor that covers your particulars, Skye," Mi'ehna answers aloud for the benefit of everyone else.

Marten conceals a smile and assumes a high gaurd. "Are we ready then friend Skye?"

Skye nods, taking up his usual swordfighting stance, one foot in front of the other, more weight on the back leg and Fairfight held so that the tip of the blade is over his front foot. He pauses a moment, then comes in, his usual horizontal slash aiming from the shoulder down.

"I am cheering for you, my prince!" The golden-haired hostess giggles and shouts a catcall for both of them, honestly, having a great time.

"I am wondering how much a bribe our knight friend needs to kick you in the jewels, anyway!" Reil calls out to support Mi'ehna.

Marten's eyes narrow as he makes a close parry, stepping in to drive his shoulder and elbow into Skye's chest lightly, but with the weight of his body and mail behind it, while in the same moment raising his sword high again, menacing the top of his friendly foe's head as he brings it down.

Skye moves with the parry, stepping low to the side and raising Fairfight to catch the overhead blow, realsing a short burst of light to blind the knight.

Skye! Mi'ehna mentally calls to her husband, her cheering unabated, if you can, hold back on your light force. We want to test his skills, remember. No one in the universe has a power like yours, so he does not need to know how to combat it. And watch your particulars out there!

The burst isn't very strong, anyway, so it should only distract Marten for a moment. He knows how to handle a sword, for sure, he mentally replies.

Marten steps back for a moment, his mildly sensitive eyes blinkning methodically to clear the light, not losing his guard as his ears perk toward the sounds around him.

Skye steps just outside of Marten's reach with the sword and brings Fairfight around for another slash. He's pretty sure Marten can avoid it, and he's waiting to see how. So far, he is impressed, anyway.

Hearing the swish, Marten leaps back diagonally, rushing immediately back with his blade down at his side to parry a reparte from Fairfight. Marten stomps for Skye's foot and slams his way forward once more, bringing his pommel up for a sharp dig in his opponent's stomach.

Skye's light surges horribly at that, and he doubles over. Well. At least he didn't kick me... He looks up. "I think..." he manages weakly. "You'll do."

Mi'ehna is at her husband's side in a bare instant this time. "Skye, are you hurt...?" She knows that the weapon is blunted, and the blow had not been a finishing one anyway. That, however, does not still her worry for her bushy-haired ball and chain.

Skye smirks a little. "I'll be fine, Mi." He so loves it when she fusses over him. "It hurts like hell, but I'll be fine." He stands up with little difficulty, one arm clutching at his stomach. He grins at Marten. "You handle that sword well."

Marten grins back, "And you handle your weapon in an excelling manner as well." Marten pauses, "I must apologize, I didn't intend to strike you so hard, I let the fight carry me away a little bit." Marten flips the sword, holding in a reverse grip, point into the ground, "Shall I carry your weapon friend?"

"Don't worry about it," Skye says. "I'll be fine in a minute. Now, I'd like for us to sit down and I want to hear more from you... other skills you have. And so on."

Mi'ehna loops her arm around her husband's so that, should the necessity arise, he may lean upon her. "And we can get a room key for you, too, Marten." She takes a step slowly, so that Skye can catch the rhythm of it and not be off balance.

Skye leans her a bit, smiling at the devotion she shows him. "And a room key," he echos. "That, too. Have you set Reil up yet, as well, my love?"

"When we get inside, dearest. We shall take care of them all at once." Mi'ehna glances at Reil, and at Marten, and back to Reil. "On us, of course, since you'll be helping."

"What exactly are we to be doing?" Marten inquires, walking beside them. "I have a variety of assorted, random sort of skills, I've been in and out of tombs, temples, castles, and the like, all my life it seems. I tend to react to problems with improvisation, not very often with magic, but where improvisation fails, steel often suffices."

Mi'ehna looks away from her husband for a moment, to favor Marten with one of her potent smiles. "Diplomacy will be a large part of it, of this I am certain. Wilderness survival skills will be helpful, and you will need to know for certain how to swim."

Marten smiles, "I have a certain amount of ready talent with diplomacy, and politics, though I have no taste for them. And swimming and living roughly are as much a part of my nature as breathing now, I've been a campaigner through two wars and not a few border disputes. I hope I may be of some service then."

Skye grins. "Perfect."

Marten smiles. "So, can you tell me what the problem is all about? In detail? I am aware that there is some sort of synergy or magical disturbance of the sort going on underneath your home, but I know no more than that."

"Let us get settled before we dive into the meat of the subject." Mi'ehna directs Skye to a stool, her hands are cautious and gentle as they are strong and insistent.

Marten laughs wryly, "My main cause of trouble in life has been to leap headlong into things. Family curse I guess, my mother was the exact same way."

Mi grins. "I had the same problem with doors. Leaping headlong into them, that is."

Marten yawns slightly, stifling it and looking about. "I don't want to bother you, but is there some more of that mead about? That was a really fine bottle."

"Um... sure, maybe. Yeah." Mi'ehna looks at Skye, eyes still glistening their concern. "Can you sit here okay? You are okay, right?"

Marten stands up, "I can get it Mi'ehna, it's not problem, you should stay with Skye. That was a truly stunning blow he sustained."

Skye grins. "I've had worse. No offense meant, by the way," he says to Marten. He doesn't say it aloud, but he doesn't mind getting his ass kicked now and then if Mi'ehna is around to fuss over him after. "Help yourself to whatever drink you like. Except the blue one... that's Buddybot's. And he gets mad when people take his drink. Real mad."

Marten smiles knowingly at Skye's design, "Don't worry friend Skye, I'll touch only the mead anyway. I'm not so easily offended, but I believe you did truly sustain a fearsome blow." Marten winks covertly at Skye, pouring a glass of mead.

Mi'ehna twitches a bit. Skye, um... I will take care of the bartending, from now on, 'kay? I like it. To Marten though, she just smiles. "You have not had alcohol until you have had one of Quava's Suicides." It makes Mi'ehna cringe every time she says that name, an honest-to-goodness epithet for a heavily mixed drink, at the irony of it. Skye had been there when her childhood friend Quava had actually tried to commit that act, and had saved her with his own hands. It still bothers her, to this day. 

Marten tactfully passes over Mi'ehna's innoportune moment, and simply quaffs his mead. "Ahhh! Very fine indeed!"

Skye kisses Mi'ehna's cheek, knowing what she's thinking of and trying to pull her out of it.
"Have you ever dealt with magic before, Marten?" he asks.

Marten shudders at some long dead memories. "Yes, various forms. Some were powerful beyond belief, some simple spells, such as creating light or locking and unlocking doors, and magical trinkets and objects. I've had a fair run of experience with the array I suppose. Though it seems you can never be sure, another magical crisis always seems to rear it's ugly head sooner or later." Marten sighs, and sips some more mead.

Mi'ehna warms at her husband's kiss, and goes behind the bar to resume her duties now that he's okay. "So you would consider yourself adept in dealing with them, Marten?"

"Adept enough, I'm still alive, and that's no mean feat considering some of the nasty encounters I've been through. I'm clever and a quick learner, so that sort of thing isn't really hard."

And at that moment, ironacally enough, a very young man appears out of nowhere, at the entrance, with but a little flash of light to signal his arrival. He looked at the group of four people slowly and aproached them; upon arrival he simply lifted the flyer to their faces and said:
"I have been sent to help and solve."

Mi'ehna's lip twitches, and she smacks at the flyer. "I vastly prefer hello, you know. Drink?"

Reil blinks. "Why doesn't anyone just bloody walk in here?" Marten had, but...eh. Selective memory.

Marten sips his glass. "Well, I did." Leaning on the bar, Marten realizes that this mead is rather potent, and the entire gallon he has consumed so far is incredibly wonderful, and gone.

"Yes, but alcohol has melted several portions of my brain since then," Reil points out, smiling more drunkenly than she actually is.

"What's your name?" Skye asks of the newcomer. Another kid, Mi.

"I have no name. Master says you can refer to me as Kutro's number One or any other name you like. And no," The kid says specifically to Mi'ehnah. "I am not allowed to drink anything but water. I have been sent to help and solve."

I see that...

"I am not certain that I would be willing to allow someone sent by someone else into the gates, mister sir. You reek of expendable, and that is not how we want to run this operation." Mi'ehna nods with finality.

"I am everything but expendable. I am my king's left hand and his future salvation. Do not be fooled by my slavery...King Kutro does not keep around slaves that are not of the utmost importance. I am to perform this task as part of my individual training, to survive alone and in a team with no one giving me specific orders that I am obliged to follow. He has ordered me to keep away from books and any drink but water, any food but meat and bread. I ask that you let me participate." The boy speaks in a tone without any waves or emotion...bowing at the end.

"So," Skye says, "You want to do this to prove yourself to your king, is that it?"

"I want to do this because my King demanded it of me. It is necessary for me to gain experience and tactical thought if I am to be his ultimate weapon of national defense." He answers.

"A person is not a weapon," Mi'ehna replies with fervor and finality tainting the sweetness of her voice. She should know... she used to be one. "What do you hope to gain here?"

"The ability to protect My king and his kingdom" He answered.

Reil scratches her head. "Kid, you need to get a girlfriend and relaaax a little." Okay. So she's not diplomatic.

Marten grins across the conversation at Reil, "More like a looot."

Skye groans. Great. Now his tavern is full of drunk people. Not long before Mi'ehna joins in, likely.
"Tell me about your skills," he prompts the boy.

Reil snickers, offering Marten a brief grin at that. Okay. He's all right.

"As to melee ability, I have almost no offense capability but Kutros is sure I can handle my defense well enough. My abilities will be of better use in magical affairs: I perform spells such as teleportation, healing, stamina refresh, empowerment of the bodies' muscles which provides one with incresed speed, strenght, stamina, reflexes, etc. I am also able to perform simple offensive spells such as a localized lightning or fire or control the element of water or fire, though it will tire me into unconscious in a matter of minutes. The time of casting the said spell and how much it tires me depends on how strong it is. I am still not powerful but I will be of some use." He explains with a mechanical constant and eloquent voice, standing perfectly still and not blinking once. 

Skye just... stares.
"Kid. First thing: forget about this Kutros for a minute. Second: can you demonstrate something?" He definately needs a girl.

"We only want to be sure that you are trying to do what is best for you," Mi'ehna adds, agreeing, though softening her husband's words. "If Kutros was interested in these gates, Kutros would be here in person. So let us talk about you."

"Kutrus is not interested in the gates. He's interested in my development. And yes, I will demonstrate." He blinks for a moment dissapearing in mid-air and appearing behind Sky.
"Every other spell needs my words. But I have trained myself in this one so any strategic retreat can be accomplished in an instant. I will now demonstrate my control over elements."
He points at Martens' drink with his right hand and says: "Augartonc..." his forehead shows evident though little strain as the beverage lifts itself from the glass hovering in the air; he closes his hand in a fist and the small beverage curls up into a minor explosion. "The size of the explosion depends on the power I can commit." He added. "Do you also want me to temporarily empower you with increased abilities, as a further test?"

Marten frowns at the waste of such fine mead, and pours another glass.

Mi'ehna narrows her eyes just a little bit. "That will do. Sit down and stop wasting my property, kid, and tell us a little about you. Morals, where do you stand on issues... Reil and Marten, I can tell that they will be fine. Marten is noble, and Reil will doubtlessly follow the gold, excuse me if I am wrong both of you." She grins at each. "So tell us about yourself."

"And the booze," Reil is quick to clarify.

Mi grins. "Yes, of course. Would you like another, speaking of which, Reil?"

Reil checks her imaginary watch again. Looks at Mi and taps on it as though what it says should be obvious, though Mi'ehna is probably figuring out just how random her sense of humour is. "'Nother few minutes yet. Got water?"

"Sure." Mi'ehna reaches down and takes up a spray-nozzle from the bartop, and fills a glass for Reil. "How I love this thing. Drawing water is such dull work."

"But such bloody grand stuff." Reil grins, raises the glass, and then pours a good portion of it over her head. rubs that over her face and ear fins, and dribbles it down her arms as well. "Ahhh...that's the stuff."

The kid watches them change interactions for a moment. They were very energetic. He then moves, without any kind of expression as always, to the counter and sits down.
"I have not thought much about such abstract themes, but I will do my best and answer if you ask." He said.

"What were you before you served your king?" Skye asks.

"A baby." He answered.

"Fuck..." Buddybot grumbles, climbing out from behind the bar and shakily standing to his full 1'6''. A bottle of blue liquid dangles from one robotic limb, and his lightbulb eyes flash five different colors before he continues speaking. "You mean you served him your whole life? That... beep! locking scans, kid." He takes a swig of the drink. "Did he even change your diapers?"

One gazes at the robotic creature for a moment before answering:
"No. He trained me and taught me, that is enough."

Mi'ehna cocks an eyebrow at the little robot... she'd thought him to be on a trip or something, having been away from the bar for this long. "Good afternoon, Buddybot," she greets him as ever, "we have quite the crowd today of sober folks today." She gives a quiet sigh, and looks upon the group. "Listen, I cannot send people I cannot trust. Skye and I... we are like the godparents of the worlds. Even though we must control them, we cannot see them come to harm at the same time. So..." Her eyes brighten with an idea.

"Each of you, answer me this. Take some time to think about it." Mi pushes jerself up and sits on the bar between the new kid and Reil, crossing her legs and clasping her hands atop her knee. "A weapon sits at your feet. A doomsday device. If it goes off, the entire castle you are in will be dust. You are faced with the choice of either throwing it through the window, saving the castle and the royalty but destroying the city outside, or trying to get the royals out and risk their destruction. Four noble lives versus two thousand peasants." She glances at each of them. "What do you do?"

"Pfft." Reil, characteristically, doesn't take the time to think about it. And, really, her answer probably wouldn't have changed. "Run like all hell and tell everyone else to do the same thing. Try to get the royals out too, sure, but the castle's just a castle, an' there's always someone else who'd make a good king out there. Blood's a lousy way to choose leaders, y'know? But the people outside, their lives are lives too, y'know? That or, you know...some one just hits the damned 'off' switch on the stupid thing." Looks at her imaginary watch. "Booze now?"

Skye grins. He probably would have answered the same way.

"I like the way you think, woman!" Buddybot says, obviously referring to the last.

Marten smiles at Reil's quick and sure response and nods, "I'd have to agree, it's better to risk the destruction of a few, than to surely damn the prospects of many. I think that Reil would be right again however, disarming the device would be the most prudent course of action. Of course the likelyhood of the one disarming the device surviving would be even slimmer than the chance of the remaining persons in the castle." Marten pauses, "And therefore that would be the most noble course of action. Similar to the vangaurd of an army facing certain death to delay the pursuit of the main body, thus saving many diverse others."

Reil snickers, and pats Buddybot.

One knew the answer but waited his turn and finally said:
"I understand the nature of the question. If Kutro was not there to advise me, I would try to get the noblemen out but would not endanger the innocents outside. If the noblemen were responsible for the doomsdevice, I would leave them to die from it." One looks at Mi'ehna. "The answer you are looking for is that the need of the many outweight the need of the few; I would choose to protect the people." He turned over to Sky. "May I please have a drink of water?" He asked. His real action would be to transport the device out to the desert regardless of how much time he had, but he was supposed to choose between the nobles and the people.

Mi'ehna grinds her teeth. 

"I do not want to hear another word about Kutro. If Kutro was here, I would snap his fool neck. Alright? Focus. All of you answered well, but..." she sighs. "I do not want to know what you think I want to know. Perhaps the question was too easy. I also have to warn you all that heroic tasks may not be your forte in those worlds, though." She glances at Reil, then Marten, and last, One. "In each world, your physiology will be changed to mirror the situation. Your skills will remain, but... Reil, your water proficiency may diminish. Marten, you may lose some of your grace. Kid, you will almost certainly lose that nifty teleportation skill." She looks down to the bar, and begins kicking her legs again. "I just want you all to be aware."

Reil blinks. Points to her breathing apparatus. "Eh?" Crippled on land and water just may be a deal breaker.

Mi'ehna sticks her tongue out at Reil. "You probably will not need that, within most of the gates. You will need this." She holds out a glass of peach schnapps to Reil. "Flavor of the month."

Reil smirks, takes the glass, raises it a little, then sips it. She's unusually quiet, though...losing water proficiency really isn't good. On the other hand, business has been slow lately, and she can use the gold...still. Gold doesn't do dead women any good. So, she just drinks, and throws out an occasional lewd, bawdy, or offensive comment just to keep herself from looking too deep in thought.

One evaluates Mi'ehna's attitude and thinks it best to ignore the comment about his master, he simply comments:
"The teleportation would be useful, but there are more ways to run than to disapear. If that is all I loose, I will still be useful." His mind asks it self how was his teleportation magic intertwinned with his physiology, but he had learn not to question those older and wiser than him.  

Marten sighs, "I guess I'll have to make do." Marten brightens, "On the other hand, it will probably male things a lot more interesting."

"Well..." Mi gives a quiet sigh. Suddenly, she is overtaken by a very worrisome feeling. "I suppose I should give each of you a room. Skye, my love, would you please pass out three of the crystal keys?"

Skye takes three keys from a drawer under the bar. "Reil: the Jade Room. Marten: the Garnet Room. Kid: the Amber Room."

Reil takes the key and blinks one two-lidded eye at a time. "Shiny."

One takes the key, putting it in his pocket.

Marten slips the key into a rigid black tooled leather belt container. "I like garnet."

"We cannot send you right away. Some things still need to be figured out... settle yourselves in, have a rest, and later Skye and I will call you in for supper." Mi cocks her head to the side and beams at them all. " 'Kay? "

Marten nods and heads to check out his room, humming 'Johnny Jump Up' softly.

"As you will." One replies turning around after Marten.

Reil isn't done yet, though. "Bath facilities?" she inquires of Mi'ehna or Skye, whoever answers first. "Got a tub?"

"There's a shower in your room," Skye replies.

"Oh, good. Ta, then." Reil waves most daintily over her shoulder and sashays off to to the Jade Room.

"Well..." says Skye, watching them go, "This is going to be interesting..."

---

Marten walks back into the sitting room, dressed down, in a crimson shirt, black trousers, and his black leather riding boots. He has belted an ebony handled dirk at his waist.

Mi'ehna is standing towards the stairwell, singing prettily as she sweeps the dust from the floor, when Marten returns. She smiles at him, but does not cease her singing or her sweeping. Jobs need done, after all.

Skye is behind the bar, cooking salmon at a little stovetop. "Are you hungry, Marten? I'm pretty good at cooking fish, and I can make soup and some other things."

"I'll eat anything if it's food." Marten sits across the bar from Skye, watching him cook. "That's an interesting stove you've got there, what does it burn?"

"Knights," Skye replies, turning the stip of fish over. The top is nicely brown and smells faintly of lemon. He grins. "It's a magic stove... as stupid as that sounds. If I had to guess, though, it's a something like a gas-operated deal... but I don't worry too much about it."
He pulls a plate from under the bar and serves a strip of the salmon along with some asparagus from a platter beside the stove.
"Enjoy."

Marten takes the plate with a grateful sigh, "That smells lovely." He pulls a chunk from the salmon with his fingers, blowing on it softly to cool it, taking his first bite. "Now, that is good Skye, you've got fine skill in the kitchen, thank you."

Skye smiles proudly. "I'm getting better. Oh, sorry." He puts down a fork and knife. "What would you like to drink?"

"Have we any ale? Ale would wash this down perfectly." Taking the fork and the knife, Marten continues his meal. "Mmm, this asparagus is delicious as well. Did you soak it in butter?"

Skye nods and puts more salmon in the pan, then finds the ale for Marten.

Smiling happily, Marten takes the ale and quaffs a goodly amount. "Mmm, that goes perfectly." Returning to his meal, he takes his time, savoring each bite.

Mi'ehna looks up from her sweeping, a twinkle in the gold of her eyes. "I almost have him whipped into the perfect housewife, Marten."

Marten smiles, "Sounds like Skye has a lot to reccomend him. How long have you been together? If I may ask that is. You seem like people who have an interesting history."

"I think," Mi begins, pausing in her sweeping to consider, "a year now, my love? It has been a hard journey together, at times, but... what do you think Skye? Was it the lich king, the invincible golem, the giant eagle, or the shadow people that gets the title of 'most fun'?"

Marten's eyes light up, "I'd like to hear about those adventures, they all sound very interesting. Of course, stories are a bit of a hobby of mine." Marten finishes off the last bite of salmon and hunts around for a place to deposit his dishes. "Where is your sink, please?"

"I will take them," Mi'ehna is quick to pipe up, setting her broom against the wall. "The kitchen is in the back.  That way customers do not have to smell dishwater." She holds out her little hands, beaming. It's a switch, and she really enjoys housework; much better than fighting for her life every day.

Marten hands her his dish and smiles. "I was about to wash them, I feel very at home here. It's reminiscent of my own home almost for some reason. At least it makes me think of it." He sighs dreamily, with that far off look of a man who remembers happy days long past.

Mi'ehna smiles brightly. She knows that look. "I will return in a moment. In the meantime, you can ask my husband about our adventures." She smiles at Skye. "Leave out the dirty parts, love."

Skye grins, serving the rest of the salmon onto another platter and going about the process of cleaning up the stove area. "I never knew," he says, scraping bits of salmon from the pan, "Until I found her... that it was possible to love someone that much."

"Where did you find her friend Skye? That was probably an adventure in it's self. I enjoy stories with a bit of romance, so long as they have a happy ending." Marten leans over the counter, seeming to seethe with barely contained energy and an almost boyish expression, draining his ale.

Skye puts the pan aside and leans against the bartop. "I found her... when I was looking for death." He smiles. "I was a pathetic thing then, and I didn't really care where I was wandering." He snatches a bit of asparagus from the platter. "That day... I encountered a sorcerer who wanted my light abilities. I would have gladly given them, but there would be pain involved. So, I ran. He was too powerful for me to fight, but he didn't seem to want me dead. Instead, he opened a dimmensional rip leading into a sort of alternate-plane prison thing." He nibbles on the asparagus. "So I went in. And that's where Mi'ehna was. She'd been trapped in there for a long time. Of course, getting out of there was the hard part... there was a monster involved and then the sorcerer showed up again..." he makes a vague gesture with his hand, grinning.

Marten leans forward with eyes alight, "And then? What happened? You did battle, or made your escape, or tricked the beast and sorcerer?" he says, the questions tumbling one after another.

Skye grins at Marten's eagerness. "The beast was a gaurdian of that place. It was there to make sure no one escaped. Mi'ehna and I ventured beyond its nest to learn things about it. TO learn how we might escape. While we wandered through there..." he smiles. "I proved to her that I did love her... and when we returned, that sorcerer was there. He took Mi'ehna from me, and I went through the temples there to find her. I rescued her, and then tricked the beast into... destroying the sorcerer's body. What happened to his soul is another story. But anyway... the beast decided to let everyone in Dothaven - that was the name of the place - free. Mi'ehna came with me... and a while later we were married."

Marten applauds. "Good story friend Skye. I like the stories where the heros trick their opponents. What happened next?"

"I'd tell you... but Mi'ehna said to leave the dirty parts out," Skye says with a smirk. "A lot of things happened... for some reason, Mi'ehna and I are the type of people who happen to find adventure around every corner we turn. We've had some close calls, and we've learned a lot of things." He nods. "Tomorrow... tomorrow it will mark one year from the day I asked her to marry me."

Marten smiles impishly, "Well, it's best to do as she says. I know exactly what you mean too, I tend to attract trouble and adventure both. Even when I really don't want it." Marten sighs, "I wish I had your luck in love though friend Skye, I'd like to meet an adventuresome woman someday... Of course, there's always another adventure."