Post by exile on Aug 17, 2008 17:31:05 GMT -5
A steady stream of Sigil’s nameless poor had been flocking to Allesha’s in the hours leading up to Peak, and now that the midday meal was fully underway the establishment was decidedly thronged. Hadrian had been working in the kitchen for much of the morning, apron clad and ladle in hand, doing his best to keep a great cauldron of stew from burning. The matron of the house stood in her customary place of honor at the serving window greeting her guests and making pleasant if rather directionless conversation with her helpers.
“I lanned him right from the start that that girl was nothing but trouble, you ken? A real knight of the post, I said. But he wouldn’t listen to barmy old Allesha, no sir.” The woman sighed as though mortally wounded by this alleged insult to her character.
“Course I suppose a man’s got to make his own mistakes, eh? Hello, Harris, how’s your dear ol’ mum? You tell her she’s sorely missed at the Pantry, hear?”
Pausing to wipe his brow in the stifling heat, Hadrian peered out over the sea of haggard faces with a look of vague disinterest. He recognized a few sods here and there, but none that he was more than passingly familiar with. A change in the general flow of conversation alerted him to the fact that Allesha’s story had come to an end, and he realized that the woman was staring at him expectantly. Hadrian smiled and offered a quiet “Yes” without any sense of what was being asked of him. The answer seemed to satisfy however and she happily launched off along another stream of consciousness.
Turning back to the boiling pot before him, Hadrian rolled up his sleeves and contentedly fell back into the mindless rhythm of his work. He did some of his best thinking at Allesha’s he had long ago decided, despite the commotion that invariably surrounded him. Allesha’s kip was always busy enough that a basher could really be alone if he could just tune out the noise. After his years spent in the Gatehouse, that was a skill he had become quite adept at.
Thoughts of Pandemonium consumed him; endless dark tunnels filled with maddening winds and hidden mysteries. Somewhere in the shadows lay a legendary prize…The plane had become an obsession of sorts for Hadrian, built upon the stories of an addled sailor now confined to the Gatehouse. Reason told him to listen to such revelations with caution, but Skeletal hulks of once terrible Tana’ri warships drifted through the eddies of his mind enticingly.
Preoccupied with the ghosts in his head, Hadrian was slow to rouse to the changing tones around him. Someone was shouting. –Allesha-, Allesha was shouting. Slowly blinking away his confusion, Hadrian seized upon the source of her consternation. A fight had broken out in the common room, over the powers only knew what trivial thing. Setting down the ladle with haste, Hadrian pushed his way out into the crowded room.
Two men, one of fiendish heritage the other human, and neither yet old enough to grow a full beard, were thrashing violently about the floor. Reaching the pair was no easy feat as the crowd itself had quickly transformed from hungry supplicants into eager spectators, but Hadrian slowly shouted his way through arriving just a few steps ahead of Allesha herself. Grasping at the Tiefling’s collar, Hadrian callously hauled him off the other man and interposed himself between.
He could hear Allesha at his back angrily berating the one lying on the floor but her words were lost over the din. Turning to check on the woman, Hadrian was suddenly staggered by a terrible pain in his ribs. Entirely overcome with shock, the youth easily squirmed free of his grasp and fled into the crowd. Hadrian stood transfixed and uncomprehending, his hands falling about the hilt of the chiv protruding from his chest. With labored breath he turned to look for Allesha but found instead the floor rushing up to meet him as all faded to black.
“I lanned him right from the start that that girl was nothing but trouble, you ken? A real knight of the post, I said. But he wouldn’t listen to barmy old Allesha, no sir.” The woman sighed as though mortally wounded by this alleged insult to her character.
“Course I suppose a man’s got to make his own mistakes, eh? Hello, Harris, how’s your dear ol’ mum? You tell her she’s sorely missed at the Pantry, hear?”
Pausing to wipe his brow in the stifling heat, Hadrian peered out over the sea of haggard faces with a look of vague disinterest. He recognized a few sods here and there, but none that he was more than passingly familiar with. A change in the general flow of conversation alerted him to the fact that Allesha’s story had come to an end, and he realized that the woman was staring at him expectantly. Hadrian smiled and offered a quiet “Yes” without any sense of what was being asked of him. The answer seemed to satisfy however and she happily launched off along another stream of consciousness.
Turning back to the boiling pot before him, Hadrian rolled up his sleeves and contentedly fell back into the mindless rhythm of his work. He did some of his best thinking at Allesha’s he had long ago decided, despite the commotion that invariably surrounded him. Allesha’s kip was always busy enough that a basher could really be alone if he could just tune out the noise. After his years spent in the Gatehouse, that was a skill he had become quite adept at.
Thoughts of Pandemonium consumed him; endless dark tunnels filled with maddening winds and hidden mysteries. Somewhere in the shadows lay a legendary prize…The plane had become an obsession of sorts for Hadrian, built upon the stories of an addled sailor now confined to the Gatehouse. Reason told him to listen to such revelations with caution, but Skeletal hulks of once terrible Tana’ri warships drifted through the eddies of his mind enticingly.
Preoccupied with the ghosts in his head, Hadrian was slow to rouse to the changing tones around him. Someone was shouting. –Allesha-, Allesha was shouting. Slowly blinking away his confusion, Hadrian seized upon the source of her consternation. A fight had broken out in the common room, over the powers only knew what trivial thing. Setting down the ladle with haste, Hadrian pushed his way out into the crowded room.
Two men, one of fiendish heritage the other human, and neither yet old enough to grow a full beard, were thrashing violently about the floor. Reaching the pair was no easy feat as the crowd itself had quickly transformed from hungry supplicants into eager spectators, but Hadrian slowly shouted his way through arriving just a few steps ahead of Allesha herself. Grasping at the Tiefling’s collar, Hadrian callously hauled him off the other man and interposed himself between.
He could hear Allesha at his back angrily berating the one lying on the floor but her words were lost over the din. Turning to check on the woman, Hadrian was suddenly staggered by a terrible pain in his ribs. Entirely overcome with shock, the youth easily squirmed free of his grasp and fled into the crowd. Hadrian stood transfixed and uncomprehending, his hands falling about the hilt of the chiv protruding from his chest. With labored breath he turned to look for Allesha but found instead the floor rushing up to meet him as all faded to black.
