Tavern Trouble.

Writers: Avery, Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 4th July 2016

Characters: Corran, Nohria, Battan the bandit
Description: An encounter neither expected and was not particularly wanted by one.
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 6, day 11 of Turn 8

The tavern patrons paid them no mind. That was exactly what was needed. Nohria held a tankard of beer with one hand while sorting through several papers with the other. The young man with her also had a drink in hand, but he was eagerly discussing the information on the papers. "So the simpler locks need dantier tools," he said, "and ye can prob'ly learn how to do it yourself with just this stuff."

"I really wish I had more time for hands-on experience," Nohria sighed, sorting out the diagrams to exclude more complex designs. "If I can't manage it, you'll be with the others, right Battran?"

"'Course," Battran said. "Still owe ye for savin' my sister's babe last Turn."

That was the kind of loyalty she had so missed. Nohria smiled kindly at her fellow bandit. "Thank you."

Corran was looking forward to being able to have ale to unwind again. The Healers had prevented him from it while he'd had the concussion, the effects of which had taken quite some time to dissipate. So he entered the tavern and sat down at one of the tables to catch a drink, wondering if anyone he knew was around. He didn't see anyone at first glance. But something niggled at the corner of his mind.

"Oh no," Nohria groaned, and hastily stuffed some of the papers under her shirt into the waistband of her skirt, at the small of her spine. "Hide these, quick!"

"Why?" Battran asked.

"One of the Hold guards is here. The one I hit," Nohria hastily explained, which was enough to make Battran fold up the other diagrams to put them in the pockets of his vest.

"What's he doin' here?"

"I don't know." Nohria cast a quick look in Corran's direction. "Damn it, I've never seen him here before. Why now?"

"Looks like he got the house brew," Battran observed. "Must've been a long day."

The man in question had settled back with the mug and leaned his head against a wall, not having spotted a friend to talk to. He was focusing on the drink, and didn't see Nohria hiding the papers. But it was a few minutes later, when he'd gotten up to go get a refill, his eyes passed by the table. He saw someone who looked familiar, but dismissed it at first. He didn't know any woman who'd wear a blouse like that. But it wasn't until he was passing by a second time, back to his own, that he realized it sort of seemed like someone he knew. When he sat down, he tried to keep a watch on the table out of the corner of his eye.

"So far so good," Nohria muttered when Corran didn't make a move.

Battan scratched his head. "Why so nervous? He doesn't know ye hit him, right?"

"No, but-" Nohria foundered. She couldn't very well admit her thoughts. "I'm getting a refill," she growled instead.

"But that'll be your fourth drink," Battan said with some concern.

"I could use it," Nohria muttered, and got up, staying well out of Corran's way. Well, that was the plan, anyway. The regular who kept grabbing her backside each time did it again, and for once, Nohria forgot herself. She whirled and smacked his hand so hard it created a loud noise.

"Hey!" the man yelled indignantly, yanking his hand back.

"I'm not some tavern wench, you louse," Nohria snarled. "Don't ever touch me again."

The man stood up, and Nohria realized he wasn't drunk this time. He must have only just arrived. Why hadn't she brought one of her knives? This was likely going to hurt.

The sound of the yelling attracted Corran's attention. For a brief moment, he considered sitting back and ignoring it. This was the Vintner's tavern; it was their responsibility to guard it and make sure no harm happened in its walls. And he was supposed to be taking it easy. The last thing he needed was another blow to his head.

But his sense of duty and responsibility wouldn't let him sit idly by. So he jumped up to respond, pushing his way through the onlookers - and how did they start standing in the way so fast? he wondered - to see what the disturbance was.

It surprised him to see the stocky man who was facing off against a woman, whose back was to him. Not a typical brawl then, between two drunk men. This was going to be complicated.

"Stop right there," he ordered, putting authority in his tone.

The man immediately froze, and Nohria squeezed her eyes shut in dismay. She had just wanted a refill, damn it.

"Now look, there's no trouble here," the man tried to say.

"He grabbed her arse!" Battan yelled from somewhere that he couldn't be readily identified. "He oughtta be escorted out!"

Nohria turned around, knowing there was no way to escape. She just hoped she wouldn't fall out of her low-cut shirt in front of the guard. "Yes, if you please, Guard Corran," she said, establishing a familiarity that made her assailant pale. "He has a terrible habit of trying to take liberties with my person."

It was Nohria! He hadn't expected her to be the one to be menaced by the man. He looked to see if she was okay and then noticed that her top was rather revealing. He rapidly looked away from her and over towards the man instead, putting on his best authority behavior, even though he seemed a hand shorter and outmassed by a decent amount of weight.

"Sounds like there's trouble to me if the lady's complaining about your behavior," Corran said sharply. "I suggest you apologize, and then leave."

The man almost asked Corran if he wanted to take it outside. The guard was downright puny in his eyes. But the way he stood, combined with his steady stare and with the way Nohria's glare dared him to try something as she faced him again, made him back off. He was too sober to risk it. "My apologies," he said gruffly, and headed for the exit.

"Thank you," Nohria said to Corran with gratitude that surprised her.

"It's not a problem," he said to her, continuing to keep his eyes up.

"He shouldn't have treated you like that."

"Let me buy you a drink," Nohria said to cover up how Corran's chivalry made her feel. She trusted Battan would pay for his own drinks and sneak out to be contacted later.

"Are you sure? It seems like _you_ might need one after this," he said.

"I could use a refill. Or three," Nohria admitted, and then hastily added, "It was a long day. I was just trying to relax when this happened. So let's try to forget it. Or I will, anyway." And maybe if she got Corran drunk enough, he wouldn't think to question why she was dressed like a trollop.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But I'd be happy to keep you company while you finish your drink. To keep men like that away, of course," he said.

"Of course," Nohria said, and wondered what it would take to keep Corran away. Then she wondered if that was what she truly wanted, and tried not to think about it anymore.

Last updated on the July 6th 2016

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Tavern Trouble.