Differences of Culture

Log Info

• Title: Difference of Culture
• Emitter: Warrick
• Characters: Warrick, Inesse, Schara, Kira
• Place: Fernwood Pub
• Time: January 28th, 2023

Fernwood Pub, Morning

First light in the Fernwood is always one of the more quiet times. Folks nursing hangovers or sleeping in to stave off the chill of the day. The hearth in the main room warding off the cold, the tables near it filled with quiet patrons, trying to get a meal in through the haze of pain.

Except for one man, a middle age human in a grey overcoat with a sword strapped over his shoulder. He's awake (mostly), nursing a coffee (half empty), and his plate is finished (except the crust on the toast). A journal is open next to him, and he's taking quick, rote notes.

Inesse had taken a meal in her room, but coming down the stairs sipping a cup of coffee of her own. Two short swords sit in thick heavy leather that's carried over her shoulder, a belt she's yet to put on over her skirt being what causes them to dangle there. A table near Warrick taken up as she sets her belt and gear down on the table with a soft clatter, focusing more on her coffee for the time being.

Plopping into a seat, the woman is colorfully dressed, her skirt smoothed after as she nestles to nurse her cup. No words, just a groggy Tsuran with coffee.

Schara needed a place to work. Pubs worked surprisingly well, but they often had an expectation of purchasing something in order to use their place. So, the armored figure that sat one of the tables with a sprawl of various metal scraps and wires and the like also had a cup off coffee with a metal straw sticking out of it, and a completely untouched plate of sausage eggs and bread. Their focus was more on the metal bits, fashioning them into a simple, small chain.

Not completely oblivious to others around them however. The artificer looked up, over to a nearby table. "What are you working on, Warrick? And, I can not remember if I got your name last time, but I believe I remember you from the temple district. Hello as well, and good morning." They offer in greeting.

Warrick turns a page, him absorbed in his work before he catches his name being called out. He looks up, over. "... Schara," he nods in greeting, taking a sip before continuing. "I am taking notes. Don't let your food grow cold. What are you working on?"

Speaking of notes, he looks over towards the groggy Tsuran. Down to his journal, back a couple of pages. "Inesse."

Inesse huhs, hearing her name, turning to see Warrick and Schara as they talk. "Yeah, that's me." she says, the words having drawn her from her thoughts as Warrick sat within shot of her ear. "Did you need me?" her words curious as she turns towards the two.

"And it's better hot, but I felt it was a bit light. Had the porridge, and fruit. Thinking I might order something heavier. Still hungry." The thin woman observes of their conversation. "What did you get yourself?" a peek trying to be taken.

"Well, it might grow cold, but that has little impact on the nutritional value of the meal, and it is difficult to eat when one has to constantly remove and reapply the front of their helmet to eat, so it is best handled all at once. It was just their breakfast special, which was quite affordable and provides a variety of different foods." The artificer offers with an accompanying small shrug. "I am making more amulets to sell which will allow the wearer to ignore complications of extreme temperatures for a day. With how it has been lately, it is a good time to make more to sell."

At Inesse confirming her identity, the pen in Warrick's hand makes a 'check-mark' motion. "Just knowing who you are is all. I got the similar dish with extra toast."

He looks down to Schara's work. "I see. That is a good idea. If you wish for a suggestion on locale, post near the Watch houses. The guards have to stand in the cold for a long, long time."

Though, his brows knit. "I've... eaten many cold meals, but I'd always prefer hot to cold. But you do you. Inesse-" he shifts his attention. "Did the situation at the Temples resolve?"

"OH! Yes, that's it. That's where we met!" Inesse says as recognition of that situation spurs her memory. "It wasn't my prank, so I was fine. I had just come from there, and being new and..... well." she stops herself at something in her own words. "I just thought I might be blamed, and I was worried." she admits.

"I have had a lot of cold meals, meals while on the road. Sitting in the wagons, and watching as the farms and cities went by. It's not the worst thing." Inesse muses, looking between the two. "The beds are better in Alexandria. For sure. As is the food. Though, warm tends to just taste best if you're not making it yourself."

Warrick bobs his head slowly. "Yes, it's hard to forget such a thing," he says slowly. "What is you mean by 'being new'? You are new to Alexandria?" he asks of Inesse.

There's a slow nod. "I've done the same, lots of meals standing up, sleeping on the ground. There's a certain revitalization of eating something warm."

"I am. Was raised in Moon's Circus." Inesse says, a hand reaching for her belt, and drawing to organize and attach her swords. The coffee is still hot before her, but it's forgotten while she finishes getting ready for the day. "A pack of Tsurai and those close they called family." she offers, grinning. "But, the Tsurai have a reputation, and the heavy-skirts such as I? We feel the brunt of it because we travel."

"I just like the beds. Alexandria's inns are a little boujee."

Warrick watches Inesse get herself prepared over the edge of his coffee. "Welcome to Alexandria," he mentions, it felt like its been said a hundred hundred times. "I hope that your family can find respite here despite such difficulties. You may face less issues in the lower markets with you and your family." Why there? More eyes.

That gets a little rise of a chuckle from him. "They are, indeed, a little boujee. One can get addicted to it."

He can't help but look at the swords once more, and he comments, "Circus teach you sword tricks? You seem a bit young to be out and about with equipment like that."

Inesse blinks and looks to Warrick with a canted glance. "Young? Pa was a master of knives. I learned how to throw them when I was little." she admits. "The Circus is always on the road. Most of the family was ex-adventurers. People with no place to go, and the heavy-skirts took them in." her words a bit warm, thinking fondly of those times. "My Pa was a real pain for Alexandria when he was younger. He was known as The Moon Dancer, and.... the road can be a rough place." she finally admits.

"The Vast also has a region where beasts from other planes trickle in. Usually the wardens keep the plains safe, but once and a while you find something scary in the dark." Inesse's words sounding almost like a Tsuran fire tale. It's not.

Schara returned her attention to her own table, pulling out a pair of pliers from one of the many pouches on her armor, and securing a small circular portion of one of the amulets to the table with the hooks on their left arm. This went on for several minutes, until the artificer was able to clip the small wire spring into place. "Ah, there we go. And ah, I believe I was talking to the two of you, sorry for losing my train of thought. If the parts aren't properly tensioned, it won't work whatsoever." The artificer apologizes, picking up their coffee, and flicking a lever on the side of their helmet, which opens a small circular hole in the mouthpiece for the straw. "I could sell it to the guards, but I would need to lower the price for the expected clientele, but that is not an issue. They would have a pressing need for them, at least, which seems worth it."

"What is a heavy skirt? I thought the vast was really hot, would lighter garments not make sense for the area?"

"Yes, young. You seem barely four winters older than my daughter," Warrick says dryly. "Though I understand the need to be prepared for the situations upon the road. It is just... an unfortunate circumstance." As he speaks, his hand flicks a pen against the pages.

He dips his head. "The Vast can be dangerous. I've skirted there before. A bet it is doubly so with traveling with such a group."

His focus returns to Schara, waving the apology off. "I understand. And no, I don't think you would have to lower the price. The amount of random warm foods I've bought on patrol could fill house during my time."

As for Schara's question? He doesn't answer, and lets the Tsuran explain.

"Oh! OH! I'm sorry. You wouldn't know." Inesse says with a flush. "My clan is the Heavy-Skirts. We roam, and like our colors." Inesses even standing to show off her patched skirt. It's colorful, each square vibrant, and with a pattern. Rarely do colors repeat. "Sorry." A tongue stuck out between her lips at the two as she runs a hand through her curls. "It's just Tsurai stuff. Not that many much care. We're seen as thieves regardless of what clan we're in."

"So, you two know eacother? And daughter?! You don't look as old as Moon!" Warrick earning a shocked glance.

Kira enters the pub followed by a gust of cold wind. A soft yet earnest, "I'm sorry!" follows to those near the entrance as she closes the door with some effort to cut the draft short. Afterwards, she gives the same people an apologetic smile before she walks towards the bar to await her turn for service.

"Well, one gold is a lot for a single day." Schara sighs. "And they don't cost a lot to make aside from time, and not that much there even."

The artificer tilts their head once in Inesse's direction, before they nod once. "Yes, he told me he has a daughter. To be honest, I don't know with humans, I didn't know many growing up. It looks like a lot of work went into making that garment, did you make it yourself, or does someone else in the clan do so? And why would they see you as thieves?" They inquire with all the bluntness of a sledgehammer before watching the commotion at the door for a moment.

Warrick furrows his brow at Inesse. "... I am nearing my forties..." he grumbles. "Yes, I have a daughter. She's about as... energetic as you." It seems as if the information about the skirts didn't surprise him. Perhaps he's used to dealing with Tsurai. Or perhaps a large swath of folk.

The door opening makes him shiver, a hand covering his coffee to keep what little warmth it had left in. "It's fine," he mentions to Kira, watching her for a moment overlong before looking back to Schara. "A gold to not freeze your toes off? I know about five guys that'd buy five in a heartbeat for the coldest days."

He just stares at Schara for the social sledgehammer before simply drinking his coffee.

"I don't know why they see us as thieves. Not really." Inesse offers honestly. "Maybe because we travel?" she asks, taking up her coffee, and crossing towards Warricks table. That is, until the cool wind catches her, and she glances to Kira. "No apologies! Someone has to enter somehow. The cold knows its way out." she muses, sitting with the man.

"Forty?! Woah, Moon is definitely a little older. Not as shocked. I'm the youngest." she muses of her situation to Warrick. "My mother made this one, but the family takes turns. She made me a cloak to go with it, pointing to Warrick. "I think I was wearing it the day we ran into one another. I'm Inesse Amsel, if you were curious." seeing as she met him once, somewhat.

Kira's smile blooms wider at the assurance from Warrick, though bits of conversation catch her ears, register, and cause her to pause her steps and turn back towards the conversation. Thieves? Frozen toes? There is a pause before she speaks up to them, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, or eavesdrop, but are there any in need of anything? No one should be cold or hungry or forced to take things."

"Well, if that's the case, then I'll keep that in mind. Visit near there when the weather is at it's closeup." Schara notes, sounding happy at that. "Well, I do not know why either, that's why I was curious. But it seems to not matter too much if there is no reason to figure it out, which is good. And yes, my name is Schara, it is good to meet you properly, when it does not smell bad."

The artificer shakes their head to the other person who arrived. "No, I am making devices for people in the cold however. I do not know about the others, though."

Warrick looks to the skirt. "Your mother did well with it," he says, a tinge of warmth in his usual dry tone. He gathers his plates to make room for Inesse, him finishing with scribbling one more thing down in his journal and closing it. He doesn't mention much else in explanation about Tsurans and their alleged reputation. "Warrick Retzner," he offers in return.

Kira's stepping in makes him turn to face her, looking them over briefly before shaking their head. "No, we merely speak of the past. The fireplace is warm enough. Though, I cannot speak when the day is met properly." There's a nod to Schara, but nothing more is said as he polishes off his morning brew.

"The smell was awful. That's for sure." Inesse's words agreeing with Schara and Warrick as she flashes a smile to Kira. "You can join in if you'd like. Just talking, and having a morning." she muses, sipping her coffee.

"So, Warrick. From your words, I take it you've not shown your daughter how to use a blade? It comes early in my family, and you seem the responsible sort." Inesse has to ask, seizing on that now that things are settling.

"Oh!" Kira continues to smile, though it turns more bashful as Warrick clears things up and explains. She recovers quickly to nod, then looks to Schara. "That is very kind of you to help others against the cold. Thank you." Her smile and eye moves lastly to Inesse and her invitation. "I wouldn't want to impose, but it is a delight to meet you all. My name is Kira."

Schara stops to take a sip of their coffee, and listen to everyone speak for a moment. "The smell was quite unpleasant. And then on my way back through the district, I found another small person looking like they were up to no good, who left a similarly unpleasant smelling bomb. I do not know why that happened twice in the same day, but perhaps it was coordinated." The artificer notes. "When are human children supposed to learn to use weapons? I am uncertain, to be honest. And as far as I am aware, you are not imposing, though my wish to help is not entirely altruistic. I need the gold, and selling these amulets is a good way to make more. My name is Schara, if you did not hear it earlier."

Warrick blinks, then quirks a brow. "... your assumption is somewhat incorrect. I have shown Cynthia how to use weapons and how to handle them properly /because/ I am the responsible sort. Though she doesn't seem too interested in the sort of thing."

A turn to Kira, and a faint dip of the head. "Kira. Warrick, pleasure" he returns, gesturing to an open chair.

He looks to Schara, confusion in his face. "... perhaps coordianted. At least none were hurt. But uh... most human children /don't/ learn weapons? In fact, many common folk don't know how to hold a sword properly. They have more pressing matters to tend to than learn how to fight."

"Uh, I did say you seemed responsible." Inesse counters with a grin. "My Pa was, and wasn't. Still if she has interests else where, that's fine too. I don't think this life is for everyone." she admits, finishing her coffee, and turning to regard Schara with a grin. "He says pressing matters, but I'd argue learning to fight was vital. More because we don't reside within walls. The Tsuai, I mean." she teases, standing from the table. "Though, I promised a friend I'd meet her at the entertainment district. So, I best take my leave before I annoy Warrick too much." a wink flashed at the man. "You're right good to let her choose her own path. Regardless of it all, I approve."

Kira takes the offered seat, even as her smile dims slightly at the topic. "I would prefer that none learned weapons because they weren't needed, but that would take a long time to happen, I think."

"Oh, well, that makes sense. Pretty much every elf I've ever known at least knows how to passably use a bow or sword, even those living in the major cities. But it makes sense to know how to do so when the forests are all around." Schara notes. "Although a longer lifespan may explain the time for training, and I'm pretty sure that there is a requirement for all of age to learn."

Warrick tuts. "Well, that is true. I don't such a life is for most at all. And those in safety tend to not need to learn to fight. Be well, and keep your nose clean," he mentions to Inesse as she makes her way out to meet a friend.

He turns to Kira. Watches her for a moment overlong. "I wish it was the same way, Lady Kira. But alas, the world is cruel."

He shifts a bit to regard Schara. "Such things tend to be cultural to most. Us humans are so broad it is difficult to pinpoint a spot for us. And... yes. We don't have the time to learn every aspect."

"Just Kira," she corrects lightly with a smile, "and I think the world grows more kind every day when the people in it do the same." Her eye moves to Schara. "I don't know much about elves, but I'm sure their culture is rich and, well, long?"

"Well, no, it's not just cultural. Like I said, it's expected of people, not because they want to sometimes." Schara shrugs. "Lyranost is very insular, and they feel a need to defend themselves from others. But also, in the forests, you do need to defend yourself. My father fought off many wolves and other animals from our land quite a few times."

"As long as the kindness is genuine, that makes sense. But I do not believe the elves have any more rich culture than any other, as I have learned in my studies."

Warrick nods slowly, picking up his journal and stashing it into a pocket on his grey overcoat. "Just Kira," he echoes. "The world can grow more kind, but there are those that wish to keep it from growing kinder."

He raises a brow to Schara. "Yes. Lyranost is rather insular, hence my cultural observation. Every culture is rich. Even Alexndria's melting pot is intriguing to see how things mesh together."

"True, there are a lot of different people here. It is fascinating to learn about all the different cultures. I was just saying that, not everything is for cultural reasons." Schara notes, looking back to her breakfast. "Warrick is right however, I should eat my breakfast. While I do not mind the cold, it is easier to eat when warm, and will waste less time."

Warrick runs a hand through his hair, a light sigh leaving him. "Yeah. Had a stint in Gobbertown for a while, learned a /lot/ of culture there," he says dryly. Either it was sarcasm, or it was a joke, neither coming across well. He gets to his feet after stacking his plates. "Yes, please eat Schara. Hopefully I will see you around. S-" he clears his throat, "-Stay safe."

-End Scene-