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Doing in the interior: at the Northwest Passage Runner Station Tavern
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Topic: Doing in the interior: at the Northwest Passage Runner Station Tavern  (Read 588 times)

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on: December 30, 2017, 06:49:04 PM Doing in the interior: at the Northwest Passage Runner Station Tavern

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Dutch Galaxy
This OOV will detail further activities of Theman, up in the high interior country of Gianfar.

Musical accompaniment is:


The tavern was full, as Theman entered. Too many people, and too much heat served as a sharp contrast to the sub freezing temperatures and biting wind borne ice outside. This winter storm had come up late in his trek down from Wind’s Home High Paddock, a consolation Theman was only partially grateful for, as the almost sideways slant of the onrushing snow and ice made his last two hours of trekking a particularly uncomfortable slog. This was a time of cold irony, he thought. Irony that Wind’s Home was living up to its name, irony that this tavern, at the Northwest Passage Runner Station was actually to the south-east of his paddock, and irony at the end of an otherwise beautiful day had the storm not arisen.

Doffing his overcoat, Theman sidled up to the bar, tantalized by various amoras of well cooked and savory comestibles. The barman, a large, burly man with a shock of white hair and skin wind burned into leathery wrinkles looked him up and down before asking, in that slow, measured cadence that belies a man well used to dealing with strangers and stranger accents, “What’ll yer have, stranger?” Laying down a beastcraft 8th mark, Theman replied to the barman “whatever food is warm, and a beer. It all smells so good, and a warm belly would be more than welcome, this cold night. There will be an extra 16th for a clean bed in a warm room.”

Smiling at Theman’s accent, the old barman turned to his assistant, a comely lass and from the resemblance obviously a granddaughter, “Girl, get this man a tankard of ale, and some of the traveller stew.” Turning back, he continued in a more relaxed enunciation, to Theman as he deftly picked up both marks. “What brings you out here? This night is not fit for man nor beast.”

“Ah, I have to send a runner notice down south to the hall. The master wants updates on my progress up at Wind’s Home.” Theman demurred. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement, as a head poked out of a back room before shutting the door. Could it be? What would he be doing this far inland? Northwest Passage is large, with much traffic as Gianfar goes, and people do get around, but at this time of year? And he was supposed to be a sea crafter. Not much call for sea-crafting on the small rivers and lakes of the interior. Even Big Island Lake only uses smaller craft, and with the lake frozen over, sledges are more typical for this time of year.

Waiting for his meal, Theman warmed himself, as he listened to various conversations about the well packed room:

“At least this weather takes care of threadfall. Nothing but blackdust! Of course, not that they Weyr is much bothered these days. Why, the last wing I saw was led by a Blue! Imagine that, a Blue WingLeader!”

“But my husband will find out!”

“He was sentenced, but applied to the Lady Holder for mercy. What did he get? Over two year later, and the day AFTER they took his hand for theiving, the Holder replied with a commutation! Fat lot of good it did him, after they took his hand. ”

“Another round, Nabob?”

The girl returned, bearing a large tankard of the dark, smoky ale that is tradition here at Northwest Passage and a heaping platter of spiced meats and tubers, cheese and bread, still steaming furiously from the ovens. After settling Theman with his repast, she turned to the barman, “Koni…” she quelled at a fierce look from her eldster and quickly corrected “HE is asking for you, father. Demanding. His meeting is about to start and needs…”

“I’ll take care of it, girl. See to the bar.” The barman gruffly dropped his rag and hastened off into that same back room.

“Can I trouble you for a pencil? I need to add an admonition about this weather to my message going south.” Once the girl offered the requested pencil, Theman pulled out the hide he had written on earlier that day, to add more about the strange goings on, here at Northwest Passage. He began to write.


And, a closing bit of music, because, well, Happy New Year:

Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate....
- Dutch

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