Halyard Tavern: Main Room ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Halyard Tavern ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Warmly lit by torches along the walls and lanterns set upon the many tables scattered around the room, the main room of the Halyard Tavern is an often- populated area. One corner of the tavern is taken up by a stage, about a foot or two higher than the rest of the floor, where live entertainment performs, while circular tables, both large and small, are set up in front of the stage, spreading out into the center of the room. Meanwhile, around the perimeter of the tavern, booths are set, and, of course, the obligatory bar rests against the far wall, a bartender or barmaid always on duty. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* (note. this takes place after the Bartender competition.)

With an oof and a snort the tavern door swings open, issuing not a rat, but rather a tall buck. It closes swiftly behind him and he wanders in, throwing a confused look over his shoulder. "'Ny reason why I had to knock some beast silly just to get in?" Buckthorn questions aloud, though not to anyone in particular. The healer shuffles up to the bar. "Could use a honeyed mead when you have the time." The buck says politely to Keita. His eyes don't stray beyond his section of the bar, completely missing the dark furred Office off to the side.

Avoryn sips his cider and says "so, how about you? you're building an apothecary?

Keita inclines her head to Buckthorn when he appears, then ducks down to grab the requested drink from beneath the counter. She then pours it into a mug, pushing it his way. "Since I've just finished offerin' up two rounds on the house, this'll be yer first, eh?" She grins.

Tess looks to avoryn "yes, well trying to, tis taking a long time though" she smiles

Darklett takes a big breath, turning irritably towards the door at the crazed rat's screams... Of course, he's still facing that direction when Buckthorn walks in, and he smiles wide, getting off his stool and hopping up onto one more near to the healer. "Buck-o! Never thought I'd see you here!"

Tess looks surprised at avoryn suddenly rushing off, she turns to see if there's anyone else she knows in the tavern

Buckthorn presses his paws into the empty stool in front of him, giving Keita a smile. "Sure sounds good t'me, lass. Count me in. You had a rat problem outside. Took care of it." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the door. His names catches his attention and he blinks for a moment before his mind churns enough to catch on. "Dah'rk!" The hare says cheerfully, motioning to Keita that he'll be down a few seats. Buckthorn heads over towards the Major. "Well, I'm here. Wot're you doing?"

Darklett shrugs, hooking his footpaws underneath the stool's footrest and leaning to the side, elbow on the bar. "Just gettin' outta the mountain for a while, visiting the festival... Won first prize in the bartending contest!" He raises the pouch of coins that was the grand prize purse with a proud grin. "You should've seen it. Too bad Neville'll never let me behind his bar, heh!"

Rahier whistles whilst he doth walk, entering the tavern. He is watching behind him and turns his head back to the front as he enters, bumping his nose against the doorframe. Bonk. "H'ow," he mumbles, placing his paw soothingly over it as he looks around.

Seeng no one, tess shuffles out quietly

Keita nods her thanks to Buckthorn. "Mayhaps a third drink fer free fer you, then," is Keita's amused - but distracted - reply. She glances back over her shoulder toward the kitchen, frowns, then shifts a few paces down to a stool, upon which she sits. Then, out of the blue and with a thoughtful look, she pulls open a drawer under the counter and pulls out a small object wrapped in a felt-like cloth. She flips one edge of the cloth over, then another, to reveal part of a knife - the dull blade, to be specific. She holds the hilt - still wrapped in cloth - in loosely curled fingers.

Buckthorn lets out a laugh. "/You/? You drink enough to be one, I suppose." He chuckles and takes his drink with a wink at Keita. "Nah nah, I'll be paying good an' proper once I'm done with my two free rounds." He informs the other. "Dah'rk... escapin' th' mountain? That doesn't sound a lick like yah, Sah."

Darklett turns in his stool, ears flicking at Rahier's interjection of pain. "Rahier!" He raises his paw to greet the major, whom he gets to talk to even -less- frequently than Buckthorn. "Rah, c'mon over here, grab a stool, get a drink!" He turns back around the bar, laughing at the healer hare next to him. "Hey... I wasn't /only/ escaping the mountain... The festival interested me, so I thought I'd show up."

Buckthorn tuns to the side, glancing back at yet another Major. "Well, a rare sight indeed." The healer hums more to himself, taking up a seat by Darklett as it frees up. He sips on his mead. "Festivals... are fleeting matters." The stiff buck mutters with a shrug.

Rahier can't very well miss the shouting leveled in his direction, and he waves back with his unengaged paw. ;p The other rubs his poor nose for a bit before does as bidden and walks on over toward the bar. "Hullo," he returns, plopping upon a stool.

Darklett's snout goes to the side as Buck pulls out his normal hum-drum mood. At a festival of all places. "Yeah, that's why you have to enjoy them while they're here... Hey, Rah!" he turns to the other healer, "I thought you disappeared, I haven't seen you in what seems like a season!"

Sometime a while back, Seven has faded into the crowd. Or at least a corner. The sniper stretches his arms out in front of him in a tired manner, all weapons already removed from his back. After this motion, he rests his head upon his folded arms on the table, ears twitching at the conversations around him. Erm.

Keita's ears flick upward at the ebb and flow of the conversation, but she seems inclined to ignore it all up until the point that Rahier is mentioned. With raised eyebrows she looks up, spies the Major in question, and leans forward, setting the knife on the counter-top before her with a small thunk. The cloth falls away, to reveal a mostly ordinary-looking throwing knife. The only thing particularly unique about is the strange etching of a wildcat on its hilt. "Why, Rah! Long time no see, mate. C'n I getcha somethin'?"

"Lo, Darky," he replies, seated finely upon his barstool. "Nah, nah, jus work an' all that, y'know.." His head turns to the second jockeying for his valuable attention and grins to Keita. "Sure y'can, if y're gonna twist m'arm."

Bandem moves into the tavern, sweating blissfully. A smile rests lightly on his features, and he plops rather cheerfully into a chair.

Buckthorn keeps sipping at his drink. "I'd rather stay home. But here I am, pluckin' splinters outta dibbuns and cleaning up contest wounds. Still, work is work." He figures mostly to himself, glancing longways at Rahier.

Darklett's paws stretch out in front of him, the major looking out to the crowd behind him, in a check to make sure nothing -else- has gotten rowdy. On his way to look forward though, the knife catches his eye, and he leans towards it in interest. Upon seeing it, Darklett takes a shallow breath and sits back down, looking in the other direction, then up to the shelves of alcohol again.

Keita rolls her eyes at Rahier's reply, and of course the first thing she does, instead of reaching under the counter, is to dig out her own flask, which she then pours into a small glass. She pushes this across to Rahier. "How long's it been, ya oaf? I mean, bloody ell, Darklett been keepin ya busy with all that Majah business or someth-" She's turned to address Darklett while wagging a finger at Rahier, when she notices Darklett's glance and glance-away. It gives her pause, but she merely wrinkles a brow and continues. "... Or somethin'? Honestly."

Seven watches the happenings at the bar, just because he has nothing else to do. He wouldn't compete in any sort of contest anyway - unless ordered to. So for now he stifles a yawn that states to the room that he is possibly falling asleep, and then tucks his muzzle further into folded arms.

Rahier is looked at a lot. This perturbs him not as be begins to sup the offered drink, smiling pleasantly, face healthily flush from the drink. "O' somethin'?" He questions in return. "What kinda hare d'y'think I am? I 'aven't left y'all alone f'no reason." He tugs self-importantly at his collar. "We workin' hares gotta make a livin'." He beams innocently.

Bandem kicks his feet up on the table and starts unlacing his sleeves to remove them, while yelling "Shop! One chilled mint tea!" Bandem smiles heartily, having just had an invigorating workout. "And don't skimp on the mint!"

Buckthorn takes a lond draft of his mug, ears ticking to listen to others conversations. He doesn't say anything, content to sit around and stare.

Darklett's eyes flick towards Keita, then down to the knife. He shifts in his stool, and looks down to Keita. "Ah, hey, Keita? Maybe a drink wouldn't hurt... Just some ale, if you don't mind?" Fidget.

Brom wanders in through the door, weaving his way to the bar, near Darklett. The sheriff glances around a bit as he waits for Keita to finish serving Dark

Keita catches Darklett's flickering glance to her, and then the knife. Her brow knits in a thoughtful frown, but his request distracts her. With a startled blink, she nods and, without really thinking about it, sweeps the knife up off the counter, holding it with paw turned inward to her chest while she prepares the drink. One-handed. Because that makes sense. "... Comin' up, Majah." When its ready, she pushes the drink across to him, fingering the hilt of the blade with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

Brom glances towards the knife as Keita picks it up and arches a brow. Looking to Darklett he says, "I hear congratulations are in order?"

Darklett grabs the drink, looking back at Keita. The usual thanks isn't given, just a diversion of glances off to the side and a long draught into the ale... He jumps as Brom suddenly appears next to him, and some ale splashes out of the mug as he drops it to the bar rather than set it down. "...Er, yeah! Thanks, it was... Luck, really."

Buckthorn sucks carefully at the rim of his glass, his eyes lifting from his disappearing drink up to Keita. "Wot's tha'?" He inquires of her, nodding his head towards the blade. He hefts the glass up in his paw, lifting a finger from its surface to point at the knife as well. "Not nervous one o'us is gonna get outta paw, eh?"

Brom glances between Keita and Darklett, his expression probably showing his curiosity, but he doesn't voice it. Then Buckthorn speaks up and seems to provide part of an answer. Looking back to Dark he says, "Well hey, luck is always a handy thing to have."

Keita's gaze is nearly stuck on Darklett. With her brow furrowing, she flicks an ear toward Buckthorn at his words and only after what seems like an eternity does she look around to the other buck. She tries to play it off with a forced but uneasy grin and a shake of her head. "... Nothin'. Just an old... souvenir, I guess."

Darklett doesn't answer Brom after a long time, the major eyeing Keita nervously for her answer. The response she gives does not seem to help him any, and he turns towards Brom again. "Yeah... I'm lucky, is all." There is no indication that Dark was actually listening to the otter.

Buckthorn snorts knowingly. "Fair 'nough, lass. No skin on my nose, s'long as tha' knife doesn't end up in /me/." He glances at Darklett. "Pretty nice throwin' thing, though? Looks kinda like something a vermin see's around yah right before he dies." The buck laughs, thudding the glass down on the counter, now empty.

"Looks, uh... Not really my kinda knife..." Darklett drinks at his ale again, and keeps his face buried in it, even as he's not drinking. "I mean, look at it," he points to it, dropping the mug to the bartop again. "It's... not a good knife."

Brom just nods and just shuts up now, glancing between the three hares.

Well, this conversation is just so..unexplainable in words..that Seven seems actually more interested than he had been, sitting up and with his ears perked to listen better. Something about a knife? What /about/ the knife?

Keita has gone back to watching the jittery Darklett carefully. Then, deciding something, she holds the knife out for all to see, turning it first one and then the other, displaying its red handle, silver cross-hilt, and odd design. "Darklett's righ' - it's not a good knife. I found this throwin' knife in the very room that the formah ownah of this tavern n m'very own mentor was found dead in." Then, she shifts the knife around in her paw, turning it so that she's peering at Darklett along its edge, which is pointed at him. Her words are casual, her brow scrunched so thoughtfully as to almost be casual. "... 'Ey, Darklett, don't you have some throwin' knives or somethin'?"

Darklett just stares down the knife that Keita holds. "...Yeah, I have throwing knives." A shaky paw lowers to his belt and produces one, laying it on the countertop. "Much, much... better knife than that is." He continues staring down the blade, his dark fur turning a lighter shade as the skin beneath goes pale. "That's a shame, though. Did they get who did it?"

Buckthorn peers at the knife, his ears flicking up. "Well, lookit that. Ah verminy knife. Found at th' scene o' th' crime." He snorts and shakes his head. "Wonder if that's a picture o' th' murdered right there. Pretty dumb leavin' something with your own portrait on it. 'Couse... vermain aren't noted for being smart, wot?"

Brom arches a brow at Keita's revelation, again just listening and glancing to each beast that speaks in turn. He's not going to be the one to light the gas in the air.

Seven peers across at the bar with a layering back of his ears, then just collects his weapons as he goes to stand up from the table. Well, this is really going nowhere fast it would seem, and he's not in on any of the groups or conversations anyway. Why did he even come here? Tchah. So off the sniper goes towards the entrance.

When Darklett sets his own blade down, Keita picks it up, holding the two blades in separate paws, lifting and lowering her paws thoughtfully, weighting the blades. "... Same weight." She then lines them up beside each other, looking down the length of each blade. "... Same shape. Same size." She looks up. "That's some coincidence, Dark. You'd almost think they were the same make, only... not. Where'd ya come by those blades o' yers?"

Darklett goes still, his paw gripping at the edge of the bar... He looks to Buckthorn with a hopeless look on his face, then to Keita. "They were made in Salamandastron. Colonel Zoe made the... originals, and taught me how to make them." He looks down to the bar, and drinks, trying to be casual. "Sorry to hear about your mentor... Keita. I'm sure he was a fine hare."

Rahier has a brow quirked, watching the exchange between the two. He takes a sip, rather perplexed. Bits of this and that go over his head as is the norm, but he looks a bit curious.

Keita's eyes widen. She /hadn't/ believed it, not /really/... She stumbles back up off of her stool, the twin blades clattering to the floor before her. When she speaks, her words are soft, almost gently spoken. "... I nevah said he was a hare, Darklett."

Brom arches a brow at the latest bout, then decides to slip off his stool and shift to a nearby table.

Darklett's heart thumps as he slips backwards on his chair, eyes widening further at his slip, the major looking rather ill as he glances to Buck and Rah... He starts to speak, but it comes out as a sort of rasp... He clears his throat, and tries again. "Are... you sure? You might've... I think you said... somethin'..." As he goes, he gets quieter, turning around and looking at Brom, then the other two patrol hares in the bar. "I don't feel too... good."

Buckthorn sits up slightly, his eyes widening. "Wot in all o' th' blue sea...?" He mutters, ear twitching uncomfortably at the clatter of the blades. "Dah'rk... wot is it? Er..." The healer loosk from Dark to Rah and to Keita, keeping the cycle up for a few rounds.

Brom just stays in his seat, not quite sure how to react currently.

Keita's eyes narrow. "Everythin' was peaceful... nothin' outta the ordinary. Then, one nigh', the vermin stole int' the village n killed whole families in their sleep... They messed up, though. Somethin' happened, n they messed up. The were found out n killed. Fortunately I was out o' the tavern tha' night, or I s'pose I'd be dead, too. As it is, I found poor Sheemie, n this knife. So's I heard it, just aftah all the trouble, some young hare 'round m'age went n ran off. We all jus' figured it was the horror o' what happened, but now... I think..." She picks up the two knives, considers each, then turns them so that she's holding the blades, holding each hilt-first out to Darklett. She looks up from the knives and into his face.

Darklett gulps down dryness, scooting back on his stool. "S...S'not m... me..." The major shakes his head in denial, backing away from Keita, Buckthorn, and Rahier. He looks very sick now, and backs to the wall, searching around for a door that isn't there.

Rahier is looked at a lot in those shocked glances. ;p He looks a bit unsure about this situation, having lowered his glass to the bartop. Uhm. He watches Dark looking about, and frowns. "Dark.."

Buckthorn stands back slightly, a slack jawed look of shock roaming right over to the bartender. "Yah best stop now, Miss Keita... yer giving him a fright beyond his seasons!" The healer exclaims. Her voice is weak, a glob of nervous spit sliding down his throat.

When he doesn't take the knives, she sets them down with a distasteful grimace. "... Fine, then. Good." She shakes her head slowly, all but ignoring Buckthorn's words. "I nevah did... I always knew there was somethin'..." She shakes her head at Darklett, her eyes even yet unbelieving. "How d'ya /dare/ t' come back int' his /home/?"

Darklett's jaw quivers, and he keeps trying to find the door handle. "I'm... sorry. Bucko. Rah? I'm sorry... Keita..." His voice is lowered to the point of inaudibility.

Brom just looks on from his seat, mainly taking turns looking between Dark and Keita. He just hopes Keita doesn't get to the point that she asks him to arrest Dark or something :)

Buckthorn darts his eyes around, trying to get a grip on the conversation. "Now... Keita, Ma'am... don't go blowin' somethin' outta proportion. Surely we can jus' talk wotever is going on, right?"

Keita shakes her head, glancing sharply at Buckthorn. "Not blowin' anythin' outta proportion! That hare I was tellin' ya about? He was new t' the village. Got in close with loooots o' beasts. Was righ' close with a coupla the families got killed. We all thought that's why 'e left. But I bet... I bet e was scoutin out the village for em!" She looks to Darklett, shocked at the possibility. Then, pointing a heavy finger to the door, she all but shouts, "Get out! Out o this place!"

"Sorry..." Darklett mumbles out, finally finding the doorknob and swinging the tavern door open, stumbling out and swinging it closed, leaving it still cracked open.

Buckthorn stumbles back as Darklett leaves and Keita shouts. "It... it couldn't have been th' Majah, Kei. He's a bona fide Long Pah'trol officah! Isn't that right, Rah? Yer one too. Dark wouldn't... that's impossible!"

"...Uhm." Rahier watched Darklett leave, blinking at the door-ajar. He obviously doesn't quite understand. It's Dark, after all. "What..?"

At Buckthorn's words, she merely points. "You... you jus' ask him! See what he has t' say." She snatches up both of the knives, then, "Ask Zoe! If she forged this blade fer 'im as 'e said, I guarantee she's got one o' the originals, jus' like this'un! You just do that!" With a sharp shake of her head, she snatches up the felt-like cloth and begins wrapping the blades up with shaking fingers. Rather than returning it to the drawer, she turns and limps jerkily into the kitchen, leaving the two Patrol hares to their twosome.

Brom just remains in his seat, watching all the hares' responses, keeping quiet.

Rahier watches Keita go with both raised brows, and then turns back around when she leaves. "..Mm. I'm with y'. Somethin' 'bout this's a bit weird, y'know? I think I'm gonna go'n talk t'Zoe li' she said." Rah slides off his stool to exit out the door.

As both parties are gone, Brom lets out a loud sigh, "Well that was...tense."