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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 19, 2008 2:59:32 GMT -5
A tavern lying fairly central in the city, this is a popular place of moderate quality. It does not attract too many sailors so is not a rough, dirty place, however the pricing of food and drink is such that it is well within budget for most people. This leads to it having a nice mix of different kinds of people, excluding only the very rich and the very poor.
The main oak-furnished commonroom is warm and has a pleasant smell to it from the burning of incense and spices, a deliberate ploy to maintain an almost exotic atmosphere.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 19, 2008 3:10:59 GMT -5
On opening the door to Sleep's Nector one evening, Steffen is hit by a warm spicy wave of gentle conversation. This place is a little too nice for his liking. There has to be a seedy underside to this place, he considers. Must be secretly owned by some scumbag Pentoshi or some other weaselly type.
Steffen is going in cognito tonight. He bears no trace of Lannister raiment, wearing instead simple, plain woolen clothes. He casually takes a look around the pub, a hint of caution in his eyes. Apparently satisfied, he moves to the bar, pulls up a stool, and waits to be served. The place is not empty by any means, yet trade is slow and gentle, and it takes a moment or two for someone to notice and serve him.
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Post by Ollie on Jun 19, 2008 3:53:41 GMT -5
Three seats down the bar sits a rather sodden looking hedge knight, his wiry crimson hair jutting at violent angles. A stein of ale sits half-quenched before him, and two more lay abandoned, empty and fallen like the towers of some ruined castle. The man mumbles to himself in a bastard accent that was as like to place him at Sunspear as it was Last Hearth, or any land between.
Reeling forward in his chair, the hedge knight kisses the bar and snorts quietly to himself, the shield on his back bearing his device for all the world to see: a fierce brown sparrow on black, its beak dripping red blood.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 19, 2008 3:57:14 GMT -5
Steffen hears the man's mumbling to his left and gives the man a disgusted look. People like him are the cost of cheap beer, he muses, whilst still waiting to be served. He cranes his neck, attempting to peer into the backrooms.
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Post by Ollie on Jun 19, 2008 4:04:50 GMT -5
The hedge knight uprights himself with a struggle, swaying a bit in his seat. With a steadying hand on the ale stained bar, he pushes himself from the stool and staggers out the door, rambling in a drunken hush about Oldtown, cloaks, and something else unintelligible.
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Post by The Smith on Jun 19, 2008 15:34:11 GMT -5
The large, hairy, knobby, sweaty bartender moves over and looks steffen dead in the eye. Then in the voice of a ten year old girl he asks, "Whatcha want Kind Ser?"
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 20, 2008 5:08:00 GMT -5
Steffen is slightly taken aback at being served by a eunuch. "Er... I'll take a spiced wine," he says.
As the bartender begins to act upon his order, Steffen regains his composure and throws in the most casual of questions. "Oh, and is Miselle around tonight?"
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Post by The Smith on Jun 20, 2008 21:44:14 GMT -5
The man looked at him again and asked, "What do you want with Miselle."
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 21, 2008 4:01:30 GMT -5
"Oh, just a word," he said casually, staring at the man with a level of intensity that he hoped conveyed his serious desire to speak to her.
"I know one of her friends," he added.
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Post by The Smith on Jun 21, 2008 13:36:06 GMT -5
"Which one?" growled the high pitched barkeep.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 22, 2008 4:31:46 GMT -5
Steffen looked impatient now. "Do you happen to know every single one of her friends?"
He sighed and leaned in a little closer, speaking barely above a whisper. "Walder."
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Post by The Stranger on Jun 22, 2008 12:59:10 GMT -5
Squeaky nodded, "Go upstairs, second door on your right, don't go into any of the other rooms."
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 22, 2008 16:51:06 GMT -5
Steffen seemed satisfied at the response Lord Walder's name had received. Were things finally going to happen?
He thanked the eunuch and headed up stairs. The man's instruction to not go in any of the other rooms was difficult to obey for a man of Steffen's curiosity, as some very interesting sounds seemed to be coming from behind each of the other doors. He resisted his temptations however and stuck to orders.
He knocked on the second door on the right.
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Post by The Stranger on Jun 22, 2008 16:52:17 GMT -5
There was no answer, but a jiggle of the handle indicated that the door was not locked.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Jun 23, 2008 1:26:28 GMT -5
Steffen knocked once more before he warily applied light pressure to the handle. He pushed the door open a crack. "Hello?" he called in.
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