Bastila

[lysoke]

Bastila

At the Northern part of The Ride, a day and a half's ride from its patron city of Ilnivur, Bastila sat as a hub of common civilization in the otherwise fairly wild strip of land inhabited by frontiersmen and migrating communities of barbarians. Where barely half an hour from the city, one might starve or dehydrate to death, Bastila had a healthy, if small, community centered on entertainment, luxury, and some trade. Patrolled only by the city's militia, Bastila's crime was healthy so long as one was smart enough about it, and nowhere was that more true than the outskirts markets that largely traded with the barbarians, travelers, and those making the journey from the only other towns in The Ride: Whitbell and Springmeadow. It was roughly 1000 feet from the edges of these markets that Chris's Gate spell dropped the displaced group of humans and animals into the chilly meadows of the land. To the North were more grasslands, to the East: the Galena mountains could be seen in the far distance, and the West held a similar, if smaller sight. The South, meanwhile, bore the haze of Thar's swamps. They could easily and truly call themselves in the middle of nowhere, were it not for the nearly out of place jut of Bastila's buildings.

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Comments

[rogueinladysclothing]

Amelia's grateful for the chance to thieve a little, but it's her family's enjoyment of the breakfast they get with it that really makes her feel good about the first of many such thefts for the day. If they'd balked or chastised her, she would have told them off and hidden her pain and disappointment. Instead she gets to sip a soft green tea - made with local flora so she can try out regional varieties and choose a new favorite for herself - and slowly eat through a soft bun she pulls through a spread of tart jam and soft cheese. She should eat more, but this will do for now. They'll have more than enough money later to get anything else they desire.

"Time to learn how to make buns and plan visits to towns every few days so we can get the produce and meats we need," she jokes, happily leaning back in her chair to watch the others over sips of tea. It's hard not to feel at ease while they're all in a lightened mood. "After we clean out the arena for all its worth today. Then we'll more than deserve to work out the details of your future meals.

"Speaking of, how is the coffee? It smells different than it ever did in Duplicity. Better, somehow." A difference in how it's made, most likely, but whether that's in making the beans or the drink itself, she has no idea. She never did investigate anything about coffee origins or making when she could ruin future pots of coffee by looking at the coffee making machine the wrong way when it wasn't in use.

[compellingstatement]

"Interesting," is Jon's reply as he pulls bits off a small loaf and eats them plain. There is something pleasing about the simplicity of a loaf without all the trappings (and preservatives) of modern society. "It's like... It reminds me of Turkish coffee. Not as thick, but certainly getting there. Not unpleasant, I'm just not used to chewing my drinks."

It's said lightly, rather than with derision. At least there is coffee. The caffeine should do him good, if nothing else, and he's been keeping his ears open, per suggestion. A pair of women at one of the nearby tables are gossiping about Tarshak, seemingly excited about something he might be able to do for them. What's harder to do is push away the thoughts that bombard him. It makes honing in just a little more difficult.

"It sounds like people are getting excited for the arena, in any case. Thank you for breakfast, Amelia. Hopefully, we'll all be able to pay you back, each in our own ways, before too much longer. Wolfe," Jon says, eyes switching to the mage. "How would you say 'Where is the arena?' in Common?" There's a professorial tone to his voice as he lifts his brows expectantly. He can, at least, tell if the man is saying it wrong at the moment.

Deception 5…

[chrisisofaith]

It’s one thing to know he missed food from home, it’s an entirely different thing to take that first bite of his bun (with a bagel still waiting for him) and feel it practically melt against his tongue with real butter in the batter and have a rush of memories come along.

It’s all he can do not to burst into childish tears there at their table. As it is, he tries to cover his reaction with offering bits of fish to Thunder and Poppet both and a totally and completely subtle clearing of his throat.

“I’ll admit Duplicity had better filters for the grounds. Bedine coffee is thick like you’re talking about, the rest of us just try to filter and don’t manage overly well.”

He takes another bite and continues to pretend it’s nothing more special than a good breakfast as he looks to Amelia. “The buns we can mange, though butter can get pricey. I don’t suppose you know how to turn any?”

[wolfehawke]

"I've made butter before, it's just been decades now," Wolfe replies despite the question having been for Amelia. Mostly he's side-eyeing Jon after the use of that tone. It's just Jon, being professorial and helping him study, as Wolfe had asked. Only after several years of having Jon as his Dominant on paper, it takes on an undertone that he's sure Jon doesn't mean but that Wolfe definitely doesn't like.

Quickly, Wolfe decides to dismiss that, instead gently knocking his knee against Chris' under the table while he tries to think of how he would ask the question in Common. "Where is the... Ah, I don't know the word for arena, so... Place of... fight?"

He muddles through it, pronunciation more accurate than his exchange with the barbarian for having kept an ear out for the general sounds of the language while they've been in the market. He knows he just needs to learn vocabulary; he can't just conjur the right words out of thin air. Still, it makes him shift a bit, taking another bite of his bagel to stall a moment under the pressure of Amelia expecting them to 'clean up' in the arena and Jon demanding he stretch his rudimentary language skills on the spot. They mean well. It's not their fault he's feeling a little out of place even with everything being so much more like he was used to in Thedas.

Its just that everything feels as if its been moved just a little to the left. He's glad Chris is enjoying himself at least, even if its expressing itself in a bit of emotional overload. He should probably draw the attention to him so Chris has a moment to collect himself.

"I'm not sure about making a sweep of it," he pushes back gently, his tone much lighter than he feels but allowing a note of uncertainty to thread in. "I'm not exactly in the best shape of my life and I won't be able to use magic."

[rogueinladysclothing]

Wolfe starts to squirm a little, for multiple reasons if her guess is right, and Amelia casually takes her mage's hand in her own to press a kiss to the back of it. "Perhaps not a sweep, but cleaning up still means winning most fights. You've not lost your technique and that'll count for plenty." She turns a small smile to him. "And the word you're looking for is arena. You formed the question well aside from that."

She can grant both him and Chris some peace from what's getting to each of them, though she can only hope at this point Jon won't snipe Wolfe over not knowing a single word. She's not allowed to kick his shin under the table no matter how much he deserves it. Sigh.

"You can rightly assume I know nothing about making anything that would be used in a kitchen," she finally offers to the cleric. "Tea and boiling water aside, the best I can do is chop vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and already baked breads. Knowing I couldn't cook, it seemed best for me to focus on getting better at everything but kitchen-based skills." She hums thoughtfully. "I should try and learn how to make coffee now that I can't break the damn machine that spits it out. It can't be that hard if you're boiling water, adding grounds, and filtering it into a mug."

Only it will be more difficult and she will not make anyone else drink her first (several) terrible pot(s) of coffee, for safety's sake.

[compellingstatement]

Chris practically crying over bread has the same tenor as what Jon imagines it might be like were he to return back to his own world and be reunited with the Admiral. And Georgie... Maybe. Mostly, the Admiral. Leaving the Captain and other cats back in Duplicity had been hard enough, even if that had absolutely been in their best interest. If they'd gone through those other portals, the dogs, Little Thunder, and Poppet would almost certainly be dead absorbed by the entity ruling the place. Horrifying. Jon tries not to shudder at the thought and focus on Chris tearing up and trying to hide it in a very charming way. Jon chooses not to draw attention to it for now. He can needle Chris about it later when the cleric's being annoying.

He give an approving tilt of his head to Wolfe, instead, listening closely as Amelia offers them another piece of vocabulary that Jon knows he would have stumbled over, as well.

"Remember that no one's using magic. It levels the playing field, and you were doing just fine with the zombies coming after us. You only actually needed to use any when you weren't close enough to stab them. Thank you again for that.

"Making decent coffee's as easy as Chris conjuring filters like we had at the house into the temple, honestly. Or if we really want to go native, I imagine you have cheesecloth, yes? It's the same principle, really. You're just going to want to collect the liquid instead of the solids. Churning butter shouldn't be hard for anyone, either. I expect certain persons might even have experience with the motions." That last part is said utterly deadpan as he looks between Wolfe and Chris.

[chrisisofaith]

He finishes his bun without actually shedding any ridiculous tears and no one says anything aside from Wolfe’s bump against his knee…so he tactfully ignores the lump in his throat until he successfully swallows it down.

And nearly choked on it for his surprised laugh at Jon’s comment.

“It’s…it’s not the same. I mean…I’ve got experience with such wide poles, of course, but there is a subtlety in the process I’m sure I don’t have knowledge of…just as I wouldn’t expect they who churn to know all ways of using their hands.”

Onto his bagel, then!

“But, yes, we can make an attempt and I’ll conjure filters for the coffee when we get it…and you’ll do fine in the arena, Wolfe, I’ll be there with you.”

[wolfehawke]

Chris makes puns while Wolfe simply raises a cocky eyebrow and gestures to his still rather formidable biceps. "That may be true, but certain muscles are good for whatever sort of churning is necessary."

He takes another drink of his coffee, flexing subtly. He may not be in top shape but he hasn't lost any mass, at least. He already knows he can keep a body up for a good churn, he thinks as he glances at Amelia.

"You're right, its not that difficult. I think you might even be better at it this way than the electric one," Wolfe smiles encouragingly, still believing that Amelia's ability to cook isn't absent, its simply locked away in her being convinced she can't.

"As for the arena," he continues, saying the word in local Common now that he knows it. "I appreciate your confidence in my abilities. I will point out, though, that zombies are far less difficult than thinking opponents in that they don't use any tactics or exploit weaknesses. That says, you're right I'm not so far gone that Chris will have to carry the entire match so... I guess we'll just have to see."

Its not that he lacks confidence, he's just trying to temper expectations. Yes he has nerves about it given he's still recovering from several weeks of his only heavy activity being marathon sex, but that's not nothing in terms of getting his heartrate up. And with a look at everyone at the table, he can say with certainty that he's not going to let anyone down even if he isn't perfect. Its not a matter of life and death here, its just coin. It will make their lives much easier, certainly, but its not necessary to survive, and...

And he's not going to lose them if he's not the most perfect version of himself.

The thought is a weird one, something he never would have thought before in the shadow of his parents and his companions and all their expectations, either real or presumed. Each person here at the table has proved over and over that they value him just because he is himself. Not the best of men, the best of mages. Not the best of anything. Not because he's the Champion, or even Hawke. Just Wolfe.

And in that thought, he feels more himself than he has in a very long time.

"We could also be more powerful than any other duo the arena has ever seen so we'll just have to chance it," he finishes with a note of entirely unearned bravado, nudging Chris' elbow and grinning wide.

[rogueinladysclothing]

Amelia rolls her eyes at all the churning talk, not pointing out that she also has very strong and practiced hands for certain activities that lend themselves to keeping her arms and wrists strong. If Jon hasn't realized that or is avoiding thinking about it, she has no intention of putting the idea into his mind.

"You'll make a pleasant spectacle for me either way," she notes, a playful little smirk on her lips. "I'll do my best to offer the same in return." As if she would manage any less when she finally has a chance to let loose and show off. Dreams, it's going to be wonderful to take on opponents who won't hold back and who will thank her for shoving their face into the dirt before she's done with them. Hopefully the proprietors will allow her some amount of gloating between bouts for it.

"It sounds like we'll have everything we could want for a while before we take our rest tonight. This was a wonderful suggestion before we make our way to our next destination." She turns a warm smile to Chris in thanks. "Is there anything that isn't books or clothes we should look for? I'd like more needles and thread for future alterations, but anything else I can think of can wait." A new ring for Wolfe will wait until closer to their actual wedding day, for example.