A Place you could be proud of

Writers: Paula
Date Posted: 5th May 2010

Characters: Puwul, Helere, Helisse, Puwean
Description: The Vintner Hall's tavern's new manager, Puwul, arrives with his family.
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 9, day 2 of Turn 5
Notes: Mentioned: Zandreu

"There it is. Our new home, our new Tavern," a man said, voice filled with
pride and excitement and wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. They
watched the Vintner Hall's tavern. A man in his early seventies,
snow-white hair tied to a neck, skin brown and wrinkled by sun and sea
water. A woman in middle sixties, slightly plump with red cheeks and warm
brown eyes. Two adult or nearly adult children. A young man in his
twenties and young, pretty woman at seventeen. She bore a startling
resemblance to the older woman.

It was quite a coup from Puwul to get the Tavern's mastership. He wasn't
even a Vintner. He had once wore craftknots in Seacraft. There was few
factors why the ex-captain have become the Tavern's new manager. He had
been running a Tavern elsewhere for nearly ten Turns, gaining a reputation
of being able to turn indepted business into a profitable one. The Hall
had been desperate to find a new Tavern Master since Zandreu's sudden
departure. He had connections from past to right people. And his wife had
a reputation as an exellent cook, which helped too. He did harbour a fear
that his past was going to haunt him here too. After all, his career as
seacrafter hadn't been exactly honourable one... as many robbed traders
could prove. But he had left that behind and started again from clean
slate with Helere. Amber Hills was inlands, and far from his old
hunting-grounds. It was very unlikely that someone might have heard of him
or worse, recognize him.

"Remember, this is a different Tavern that the last one. This is
respected, clean place where Lord Holder dines with his family. Not
shadowy port's greasy spoon, where seacrafters come with goal of drinking
themselves senseless," Puwul said.

"Well, that's a nice change. It would be nice if I didn't get pinched at
the bottom all the time," Helisse said.

"That might happen here too. People are same all over Pern," Puwul said.
"But you can now act indignant if it happens." He grinned at his
step-daugheter. Helisse just wanted to find a good husband and leave the
tavern-work behind her. Helisse answered to his smile. Sometimes she hated
her mother's new husband, sometimes she almost liked him. He did make her
mother happy again, so what reason she had to complain?

"These people don't know us or our pasts, so watch your mouths. If we act
like respectable, honest people, we will be treated as ones too. There's
no reason to tell them all about us," Puwul warned his family, for
umpteeth time since they had left from their previous home at the other
side of Pern.

"Yes, dad," Puwaen rolled his eyes.

Puwul gave his son a nudge to his shoulder, "Especially you, son. You
have bad habit of prattling everything out just to make an impression to
a pretty lady."

"He's right, Puw-dear, you do babble," Helere agreed. She liked the young
man very much. Her own sons were so much older. She still remembered the
first time she had seen him. A twelve Turns old, cheeky little boy tagging
after his father. She had instantly "adopted" the motherless boy and was
proud to see him turn into a fine young man.

"Yes, mom," Puwaen rolled his eyes again. Helere was only mother he did
remember, being so young when his birth-mother died.

Puwul found himself wondering how they would be received in Amber Hills.
How the Tavern's staff would react to him? He tend to run a tavern like he
had run his ship Dark Storm. He expected order and disipline. He expected
his commands to be obeyed without questions. On otherhand, he was quite
willing to see to the well being of his staff, to defend them if
nessessary. He wanted to trust his staff and his staff to trust him. But
trust was something that had to be built slowly. It had to be earned. He
had hard time ahead of himself, proving himself to these locals. In his
mind, there was much in common in Taverns and in ships. One could sunk or
succeed, depending how the person in charge ran things, and you couldn't
ran one all by yourself. You needed a crew or a staff. A good one.

He shook himself out of the reverie. "Shall we?" he suggested, picking up
bags. "There's plenty of us to do. Get ourselves quartered, meet the staff
and the Hallmaster..." He looked the Tavern again. It looked like a place
you could be proud of.

Last updated on the May 18th 2010

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A Place you could be proud of