Cair Rahien Grand Re-Opening Celebration {OTA}

[Asfaloth]

OOC: This is completely open to all but I would recommend you first read the bio for Dylan Ablard and the description of the Cair Rahien.

 

  All around him people were moving about finishing up their last minute tasks, but Dylan Ablard sat in a corner booth consumed by his memories.  He had grown up running around the tables here at the Cair Rahien, but even he could barely recognize the place now.  The fire had utterly destroyed the home of countless generations of his family, its architecture unique as the myriad additions that shaped it.

  When he and his sisters first talked of rebuilding they knew from the beginning that it would be impossible to replicate the old misshapen but beloved design, and had opted instead to start from scratch with a brand new design.  Still, they had salvaged what they could so peices of their childhood home were in evidence throughout the property.

  The four-sided fireplace at the center of the common room was just the most obvious example.  It had always been the trademark feature of the inn, and was known throughout the land.  Dylan and his sister had been verygrateful that it had survived the devastation of the storm two years ago.  They and their older brother had learned their letters and other basic lessons sitting on the bench that circled it with their parents.  Building the inn around it and its chimney served to tie the inn to its past and gave stability to his memories.

  Dylan was pulled sharply from his reminiscing when he heard his sisters calling for him.  Looking up, he saw that all activity had stopped and the entire staff was gathered waiting for him.  Standing up, he shrugged his shoulders and looked sheepishly at them before grinning to his sisters, knowing they at least would understand how bittersweet this day was for him.

  Walking to the stage he looked at the faces of all those who had passed his careful scrutiny as his sisters joined him, Beka on his right and Mandy his left.  From stableboy to chef and laundress to busboy, every one of them represented at least five others that had applied for their position.  "In just a few moments we will be opening our doors for the first time in exactly two years."  Dylan paused to collect himself and stop the tears after his voice started cracking there at the end.  He was a man with strong emotions, compunded by highlevels of compassion and empathy, so most here had seen him shed a tear or two, but now was not the time.

  Beka and Mandy stepped closer and he continued, "Every business has its ebbs and flows and I am sure we will as well.  But, we have enough reservations already to ensure that we all stay very busy for at least the next month.  You all know your jobs and what we expect of you.  I trust each of you to do what needs doing to help the customers, but if anything comes up don't hesitate to find one of us to resolve it for you.  Alright, I'll give you two minuites to ready yourselves and then I'm opening the door."

  As they dispersed to their posts, Dylan pulled his siters into a hug and told them, "Thank you both for staying and helping.  I never could have pulled this off without you."

  Beka replied, "Oh Dylan, you sell yourself short.  Dad would have been so proud of you."

  "And Mom will be too," Mandy added, "if she ever comes back from Aunt Charlotte's."

  With that bitter reminder of their mother's debilitating depression they embraced once more and went their seperate ways.  Their jobs tonight would be to work the crowd and greet their guests.  They would move through the inn at their leisure, chatting and diffusing and problems that arose.  But, to start the night, Beka went to stand at the top of the stairs on the second floor, Mandy went to an area near the dance floor and Dylan stood by the front door.

  After another minute to collect himself Dylan put on his most disarming smile and opened the door to greet their first guests.

[Bormwhim]

  Bor was in a surly mood as pushed through the inn's door. His "escort"  Kallim had insisted on this brand new looking inn. In Bor's experience innkeepers were far more picky about conduct in new inn than in old ones, besides the whole place smelled new. It  didn't have the familiar aroma of pipe-smoke and grubby men. The first thing that caught Bor's attention after the smell was the massive fireplace that looked like a hollowed out pillar. It had four openings and was set in the center of the room not the customary end. Then Bor's eye fell on the burly innkeeper. There was something in the way the man stood that made Bor think of Kallim, and he unconsciously let his hand fall to the hilt of his sword.

  Bor was travel-weary and bordering on anger for the coming loss of freedom. He allow all of his frustration and fatigue to enter his expression as he demanded a dinner and a room for the night.

 

<i>Why did Kallim chose this...place? Why couldn't he have chosen somewhere where a man could enjoy getting a bit drunk and finding a pretty maid? Why did he have to pick the bloody newest inn in town?</i>

 

-Bor

[Eqwina]

Thick oiled shades were pulled down tight over the windows of the tiny square room; giving an impression of deep night though it was just drawing towards evening outside. The slightly sour smell of sickness hung in the air, and the room was bordering on too hot. Lying motionless on the bed was Adela, a dripping towel covering her face. The only evidence that she’d not died in this dank little room, was the slow rise and fall of her chest.

 

Groaning slightly as she lifted the towel from her face and slapped it back into the bowl of now lukewarm water. Struggling she pulled herself to a sitting position on the sweat soaked bed. This motion caused the steady drum beat to pound louder on the inside of her skull, but she kept her forward momentum.  The room swirled as her stomach leapt into her throat, but she made it to her feet.  Wobbling on unsteady legs she managed to grab a hold of her dresser before her knees gave way. Only the strength in her arms allowed her to settle slowly to the floor.

 

Closing her eyes again she fought the waves of nausea that threatened to sweep her away. When she was sure that she was not going to be sick, she groped over her head struggling to locate the small packet of herbs she’d been given. Nearly blind and still slightly drunk she knocked several items to the floor before her hand closed around the paper packet. In the packet was a mixture of sliver leaf and andilay root One was for fatigue and the other would stop the concert taking place in her head. Knowing that she’d never survive long enough to make the dried herbs into a tea she chewed them and swallowed them dry.

 

Not trusting her legs or her stomach to allow her back to bed she laid down on the floor, stretching out amid the small knick knacks she’d accidently deposited on the floor.  Minutes stretched into nearly half an hour before she was able to once again pull herself to her feet. Stumbling rather than falling this time she managed to make it to her water bowl, and submerged her head. Holding her breath as long as she could, she tried to wash the taste of vomit from her mouth.

 

It took nearly an hour before she could bring herself to pull back the shades and let the last dredges of the days light into her room. Her head no longer felt like a drum, but she still felt as if she had been trampled by a horse. Even as her alcohol diseased brain dreamed up the idea she knew that it was wrong, but all the same her feet carried her from her dungeon and out into the evening air. The crisp fresh breeze was invigorating and by the time she crossed the large square in front of the Tower she was convinced that she’d made the right choice.

 

The room was rather full, but Adela managed to find a seat, and with the first tastes of the ale sliding down her throat she knew that she would recover fully.

 

Adela Naurel

More Alive

[minisamus]

Lillian sedai, with a little S because she’s off duty, strolled into the inn and sat down. She did this without grace or elegance but with a great deal of sturdiness and intention. Her legs were sore; she wanted to sit down, and she did. She had her seat and she sat on it too.

 

She was here to meet the grandson of a distant relative, with whom she was barely acquainted but who had delighted her with a missive. And so she was here, which was a conflict in schedule. It’s hard to be one of the only active sisters of the White Ajah, and by active I don’t mean listed members because that would be too cheeky; I mean White Ajah sisters travelling around doing what she was doing, which was an awful lot.

 

Lillian had already sussed the room because she was a member of the White Ajah and very little escaped her; that, and the White Tower was filled with backstabbers and power-plays she didn’t much like, which was which was why she had been trying so hard to unite the tower into some form of cohesive machine rather than just a giant feminist phallus, disseminating ideas and objectives like water from a garden hose.

 

She took notice of the sick girl but discarded her needs because they were no longer urgent and she wasn’t a Yellow and everyone knows if you’re not a yellow you can’t heal. She also took note of the rather suspicious boy who she’d decided was there to meet her but refused to walk over because see paragraph A.

 

In related news, she marvelled at how many swordsman ‘unconsciously’ ‘let’ hands ‘fall’ to their ‘swords’.

 

Some day, somewhere, some one is going to lose a finger.

[Bormwhim]

  While Bor was still engaged in tongue-lashing the innkeeper a woman marched in a threw herself into a seat. She wasn't at all graceful or alluring in any way, but rather abrupt and very intentional and self-possessed. Though she wasn't putting any airs whatsoever she seemed to fill the room by just being there. He decided he didn't like her, but seeing as how there would really be no reason to sit near her or talk to her he let that thought go.

  The innkeeper was looking at him strangely, he had let his tirade trail off when the woman had come in. Just before he was about to start again Kallim slid through the door behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  "I'll take care of arrangements later." Kallim said softly, "We are here to meet and old friend."

  Bor rounded on him. "What?" He hissed. "We here to meet someone, and you said nothing to me?" Bor's voice had grown dangerously calm. "Explain yourself."

  Kallim's eyes flashed at the tone Bor used, though he spoke in the same soft tone, "Your father instucted me to say nothing to you until absolutely necessary, I was following my orders. Now, listen carefully because I'll say this once. More years ago than I care to count, your grandfather spent a little time in Tar Valon. Your father and I were only lads. While we lived here Old Lord Caltarra became friends with an Accepted of the White Tower, a distant relation I believe. Well she became Aes Sedai of the White Ajah, if I recall rightly. Your father remembered the friendship and sent her a letter a couple of weeks before we left. She is sitting right over there against the wall." He jerked his head toward the woman who had tied Bor's tongue up when she walked in. "Now, young Master Caltarra, we are going to meet her, and you will keep a civil tongue in your head or it will be the worse for you."

  Bor spluttered not able to chose the right expletive. <i>An Aes Sedai? Light! What has father, the old goat!, gotten me into?</i> He tried to take a deep breath but it came unsteadily. He was in such shock that he didn't even notice Kallim's lack of respect by dropping his title.

  Kallim smiled slightly, "How about you keep your own counsel for the first few minutes and I'll do the talking. When you can find your tongue again...we shall fight that battle when it comes." He finished with a wry grin.

 

  Bor wasn't really sure what was happening but he followed Kallim to the woman's table. His mind was still reeling, but he heard himself speak the proper greetings. He also heard Kallim beginning reminisce with the rather young-looking woman as if they had been childhood friends, and Kallim was nearly 75!

 

-Bor

<i>In complete shock...

[minisamus]

The aes sedai sat, thinking her more sober thoughts. Though she had done so many times before, such meditation was still a new thing to her, novel with the drawing of each breath, sweet in a melancholy sort of way, but still utterly without practical value: she could see no solution to the problem of Kasi without the one her heart offered--and that was simply too painful. There might have been some good in the situation, but the aes sedai did not see that; she saw only the predestination that had always been there. And finally, Lillian's more natural character reasserted itself and she smiled kindly at the woman bringing her an ale.

 

For all her nostalgia, she felt no self-pity: Lillian was not a woman to dwell on the past. The world had moved on, but her mind was still sharp, and the answers came closer.

 

"You did just right, Kallim. I certainly missed the talk of my family."

 

"You remember Bertie had a grandson?"

 

Her present run of thoughts rather amazed her. Each name called up others--Kallim, his current master, the old man Bertie Caltarra; and Bormwhim, at Kallim's side trying to absorb it all in quiet thoughtfulness. Lillian looked at the young man speculatively. "Yes, I think I do."

 

"If you take him," Kallim said in his prodding way, "I can finally rest these old bones."

 

Lillian smiled, "Perhaps in time, not for a while at least. His Lordship relies on you too much for that. Please, sit, and join me for a meal." Behind them she heard the dull thunk of the mallet as a scullion tapped a keg of beer.

 

OOC: After the meal Lillian will take us to the yard. :)

[Elgee]

bump