Mar 06 17:35:47 109 PA - Flash Mob at Tradewinds

From Chronicles

Mar 06 17:35:47 109 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

There's a small jingling at the door to the coffee shop as it is opened and the winter wind blows across the entry bell. This is followed by Pavel's large form, his massive horse and equipment parked outside simply by dropping reins. A few smiling steps take him across to the twin baristas, where he orders a simple coffee, but with lots of cream, sugar and cinnamon which they are somehow unfortunately out of. His back remains to the door while he waits, but the shop itself is still decently populated at this our, both the central conversational tables and the side tables meant for more quiet thought and privacy.

Sabbat was following the large man's example, but even if it's cool out, she has a moral obligation to find a pitcher of sweet tea, mixed with black coffee. She called it Trooper Juice, it worked well to stay awake, with out tasting so bad. So she waits till one of the Baristas is available and puts in her order of choice beverage, along with some pastries, her stomach is grumbling and demands to be fed things with sugar and chocolate and all manner of things unhealthy!

Jokin is sitting at one of the tables, a large espresso drink sitting in front of him, clad in one of the paper `to go' cups, and a lemon square sitting on a napkin with a big bite out of it. As the processional arrives he looks up a little, "Troubles with your girlfriend earlier, Captain Hammer?" he asks, his gaze directed towards Pavel as he speaks.

The cool air of the outside gusts in as the door is opened and closed by the soldier some know as Bart. Heading over to the counter as most customers do when entering, he does take the time to glance over the place and the gathered customers along his way, the short distance, to the counter, to wait his turn in line.

Aya enters the coffee house, as she was informed it is known, and pauses in the entranceway to observe the unfamiliar location. This includes the strong scent of various food and drink. Her hood is lowered and cloak opened before she proceeds further inside, the metal stave continuing to serve as a walking aid.

Pavel takes his mug and then allows his legs a few steps towards Jokin's table, but only enough to be easily heard, not yet enough to join the man. "Noht gehrlfrehd. Ohnly fryehnd. Eef she ohnryeesehnahble, cahnnoht stohp. Boot vhehn sohmevhan pool knaheefe, Jokin vould ahlsoh be cehrfool, da? For Bella taheeny beeht crehzy? Pavel seh szeenk ees faheer. Bella vyehry deefehrehnt vohmahn, cahn be dehngehroos eef noht cehrfool." His head is turned to look at the newcomers, giving the woman with the lowered hood and walking stick a welcoming nod.

Sabbat had her pitcher of unusual beverage and plate of pastries and was soon looking for a table, quietly speaking to Pavel's back. "Excuse me, can I get past?" She asks him in her quiet voice, she almost sounds timid, but she's balancing pastries, and he's awfully large to get past.

Jokin smiles and nods politely as Pavel speaks on in his thick, nearly unintelligible accent, "Not my business what you two do behind closed doors." He says with a little shrug of his shoulders. His attention does wander a bit at some of the other new arrivals though, sipping at his espresso drink. His gaze shifts to the quiet voice mostly obscured by Pavel and he cracks a little grin as he looks over what he can see, at least, of Sabbat.

Bartholemew steps up to place his order now that the woman in front of him is now searching for a table, his eyes linger in tow for a moment before the barista asks for his order, which he places as a coffee, black. Simple enough of an order letting him search for a table of his own rather quickly.

"Hello, Pavel," Aya returns the nod with a greeting once she is near enough. "Do you dwell here with the Coffees? I was told that this is their home. You claimed that you did not stay in the city."

As Jokin's interest seems to have waned - and based on Pavel's facial features having said nothing sensible anyway - Pavel is free to turn and address others. First the short woman with the pastries and pitcher. "Ah, allo. Sohrry, deed noht meen to gyeht een veh." He scoots back and to the side. Of course, it was a guess as to where she was going. Then Aya receives another nod, and a bigger grin. "No, Pavel steh vhehr Aya fouvnd. Veesz fohrge. Smahl eensaheed heel, good steh, vahrm. Ees Coffees geyrls vho mehk dreenks?"

Sabbat trumbles past Pavel, and catches Jokin's look..and thus she ends up sitting across from him, and smiling, it's a charming smile, and then she hefts up her pitcher to sip at the cold beverage and settles it down on the table top. "Allo." She says, smile twisting into a partial grin.

Jokin cracks a little grin back at Sabbat, "'Allo yourself." He replies, "Hard to understand, that big guy." He says. "Seems nice enough though." He shrugs as he reaches to take a little bite from his lemon square, using his fleshy hand, "You had these yet?" he asks, gesturing with the little half eaten square in his hand, "They're to die for."

Bartholemew makes his way over to a familiar face, "Howdy Pavel." gently sipping on the hot beverage along his way, taking a seat nearby, but not exactly with the big smith. Casually, he notes the other customers nearby.

Aya nods to Pavel. "It is warm and dry. There is also food and drink." She determines that much from the plates, cups, and scents. As most everyone else is seated, she chooses to do so to be less conspicuous. A random, unoccupied chair nearby is sufficient.

Pavel now finds himself in the awkward position of being a very large man standing in a room of seated people, and not apparently associated with any of them in any meaningful way. His glance goes to Jokin and Sabbat, then moves on. They seem to be in conversation. Bartholemew gets a look, but an equally short greeting that he'd received, though all pleasant. "Allo, Barszohlemew. Goes vehl?" Finally, there is Aya. Quiet. Restful. Looking alone and more isolated than even he himself. Giving Bartholemew some words of promise to come back, he moves toward the woman with the staff. He remains standing, to politely ask, "Ah, Aya vhahnt coffee? Sohm tee fohr dreenk? Pavel cahn gyeht."

Sabbat looks down at her assortment pastries, and picks out some thing that resembles a brownie, or a chocolate bar, she did just ask for an assortment. "My mother used to make them, though I don't think she had real lemons, but some thing from the Swamps. It tasted good, especially when you put powdered sugar all over it and had a glass of milk with it." She says to Jokin before biting down in her bar.

Jokin laughs, "Lucky, I rarely got anythin baked for me as a kid. Had to save up my creds to go buy sweets from the local store." He says with a grin, "Had plenty of milk though." He adds, "And cheese."

Bartholemew decides it's a good time to fire up a fresh cigar while Pavel has other things to do for the moment with Aya, rotating the cigar to get a nice slow even burn. Once content with the glow of the smoke he take a long satisfying drag and exhales the cloud above him with a smile.

"Yes," Aya answers Pavel. "I will take something to drink. Whatever you suggest." He knows this business and its offerings better than she. Her head turns towards the man and woman discussing food. Something said a moment ago is confusing. "Why would you die for that food?" she asks, "Other meals are easily made or found."

Pavel bends low enough to put his own untouched saucer and mug of sweet and creamed coffee before Aya with a bit of grace. "Cohfee, veesz syoogahr ahnd chreehm. Chreehm sohrt of laheek myehlk. Aya cahn try, eef good, cahn hahv. Pavel veehl gyeht oszehr fohr sehlf." His eyes then turn across the room and he shrugs slightly. "Noht shyohr, steel lehrneeng ahl of meen vhaht seh, seh vahht meen. Boot szeenk ohnly 'die' fohr ehxahgehrehtion. Qveek to seh, 'vyehry, vyehry good.'" He then falls silent to see if his burgeoning friend likes the beverage.

Sabbat rolls her shoulders slightly at Jokin's comment. "I grew up in a fortified town, near the Swamps, every one was like family, even the half crazed scientists who came through became like family, you had to. Some of the extended family couldn't cook..." She says, making a blech face at a memory that the topic brought up. "So... Mr. Lemon Bar..you seem to know people and the area, where is a good place to rent a room?" She asks with a charming smile before more of her liquid energy is consumed.

Jokin laughs, "We had oil fields and cheese factories where I came from." He grins, "And depends what part of town you want a place at, and how nice you're looking it to be." He says to Sabbat, "I've just been staying in a cheap little motel, haven't been in town and out of the clinic too long yet to find a good spot."

Bartholemew slides another empty chair nearby over with one foot so he can put it up, leaning back in his chair to relax enjoying a good smoke and a fresh cup of coffee, even going so far as to remove the sword that hangs across his back and lay it on the table in front of him to not be in the way of his comfort.

Aya's head remains turned towards the other pair and table. This does not stop her from reaching over to pick up the cup and bring it to her face. It is sniffed experimentally before a tentative sip is taken. "Did I not speak loudly enough?" Presumably, her words are still directed at the other couple, and her volume increases with each word. After her question is asked, she notes to Pavel, in her normal volume, "It is ...good. Thank you."

A quiet bob of his head is what Pavel uses to acknowledge that he heard Aya, and further that he misunderstood the target of her earlier question. However, he does say, "Aya, szeenk mehbe noht fohr yehl. Go to talhk, eev vhahnt tahlk. Hav lehrned heer ees rood fohr yehl - deefehrehnt aht hohm, boot heer, ees rood." Finally, apparently not feeling like he should be the one to instruct a grown woman on how to conduct her life, he turns and heads for the counter to get a second mug for himself.

Sabbat seems to hear Aya this time, and breaks her questioning of Jokin to acknowledge her as she turns in her spot to look at Aya. "Well you are now." She says in her quiet voice. "I don't know why you must raise your voice so much, it's much easier to just join some one then yell across the tea shop.." She says and looks towards Jokin. "I suppose I should be looking for a place to stay rather then drinking tea and eat brownies."

Jokin laughs, "Well, there's the Happy Days Inn that rents rooms. It's a starting place." He grins at Sabbat, his attention then shifts over towards Aya, "You were speaking to us? Sorry. What was the question?" he asks, offering a friendly enough smile her way.

Bartholemew can't help but turn his attention to the others Aya addresses, her volume quite obvious in the generally conversational volume of the place. His attention mostly idle curiosity as to what is up.

"It is rude to not answer, yes?" Aya asks of Pavel. She stands and approaches the other table, staff in one hand and drink in the other. Once near, she explains, "I ask why you would die for this food. Pavel said that is not how you meant it."

The big blacksmith chooses this time to stay out of things. After all, he's just come in from a rough day in the Merchant's Plaza anyway. His mug is received, and this time he makes his way toward Bartholemew. The man may be interested in the other conversation as well, but at least he appears to be fairly certain that he can join him with the only major issue being his own horrible accent. Still, it's only polite for him to ask, when he reaches Bart's table, "Allo, Bahrt. Pavel join, ees ohkeh?"

Sabbat watches Aya approach, then looks towards Jokin, and then a look of understanding crosses her features. "Oh no, it's an expression. To die for means the food is very good, or some thing you enjoy alot, and thus would go out of your way for it." She tries to explain to Aya, scooting over to give the taller woman more room. "Like I'd die for a proper plate of bangers and mash, I don't really want to die, but it means I really want it.." she says in her timid tone.

Jokin nods his head a little as Sabbat fields the question, "Exactly what she said." He agrees with a grin, "You take things way to literally." He adds to the tall woman, "It's gonna bite you in the ass sometime I think. But asking questions is a good way to get things figured out though." Jokin adds to Sabbat, "What's a Banger?"

Bartholemew smiles moving his foot so the big man can take the seat with him, "Sure thing, having a good day?" letting the man sit down and get comfortable before continuing past his initial greeting.

Aya's head tilts. "How would words bite my ass? Or do you speak more words to mean not what they mean? It is very strange." She drinks more of the coffee, cream, and sugar.

Pavel happily slides into the seat across from Bartholemew, setting his mug down gently, but with a quick, heavy sigh. "Hahd strehnge deh. Prohblehm veesz mehn syehleeng mehtahls. Bella cohm, Bella gyeht enhgry veesz Pavel becauhse he stohp hehr frohm.. frohm.. mehkeeng nev mahn vyehry ooncohmfohrtahble. Bella pool knaheefe. Pavel gyeht hahmmehr, seh geeve knaheef. Bella geev knaheef, stohmp aveh. Noht fohr be fryehnd veesz Pavel fohr nov." He looks up to meet Bart's eyes. "Bella trohbel, becauhse oonpreedeectehble."

Sabbat sighs a bit at Jokin or Aya, it isn't clear whom she's sighing at. "Banger is a sausage.." She says to Jokin before sipping more from her pitcher, she does seem to truly enjoy the over sugared coffee and tea creation. "Many people use words in a non literal sense, even some of the D-Bees." She says with a slight grin.

"You've already figured it out yeah?" Jokin says to Aya with a smile, "Means your words could lead to consequences you didn't expect, or your misunderstanding of words even." He then glances back to Sabbat, "Ahh, gotcha." He says with a laugh, "We just call 'em sausages."

Bartholemew gives a light chuckle at the words Pavel says, "Unpredictable is the least of the trouble." commenting before a sip of coffee and toke on his cigar. "I set up that appointment by the way. Two days meet me at the firing range around noon, and keep a couple hours open for it. It'll be a good time blowin things up, even if the weather turns on us."

"How do you know what is said if meanings change?" Aya is even more curious. "If you do not understand, the words are meaningless. It is very confusing." Her expression is perplexed to match.

Another head bob echoes its visual way around the coffee shop as Pavel agrees with his table-mate. His voice is lowered. "Pavel vohrry ahbouvt Bella. Boot... noht ahlvehs *fohr* Bella. Vhaht ees, Bella ees, cahn be mahny trouhble, naheet ahftehr naheet. I knov szees. Bahrt moost knov szees, frohm vhaht seh." He sips experimentally from his new mug, smiling with approval. For now, however, his own interest also turns to the trio, unsure as to whether or not he should interject - or if he even gets it completely himself. He does tap before Bartholemew on the table and says with some muted pride, "I mehke szaht stahf."

Sabbat sighs again and finishes one of the brownies and another measure of her iced beverage. "It's a cultural thing, you'll pick it up in time, every culture has a double speak." She says, not willing to commit to teaching Aya every little trick of the English language, especially as it varies region to region, culture to culture. "I still need to find a better place to store my Armor, I don't leaving it in a locked shed with rent-a-cops watching it.."

"Just part of knowing the language of the land, I suppose." Jokin says in response to Aya, "And just because you don't understand it, doesn't mean they don't have meaning. It just means you're ignorant of the meaning." He adds. His attention once again returns back to Sabbat, "Yeah? I haven't heard anything too bad about the storage areas out on the airfield. But I don't really know any better options off the top of my head either." He adds.

Bartholemew takes a look at the staff pointed out from where he is seated, taking a few puffs as he admires it from afar. "You do nice work my friend." patting the sword lying on the table, "Tried and true sir." sounding quite happy with his own purchase from the smith, "There is always a reason behind my purchases." The comment of armor and storage gets his attention a bit out of curiosity more than anything.

Aya nods. She understands that much. Rather than continue standing, she joins the two at the table. "Why do you not wear your armor? It does not protect you locked away." Her head turns towards Sabbat after she speaks.

Pavel's mouth is half-open, his hand-half raised when Aya seats herself at the other table. "Oh. Vehl?" He looks on to Bartholemew again, and now seems to once more be the odd man out. So he simply sits back and enjoys his coffee for now. There was already enough confrontation for him today.

Sabbat laughs quietly, it's as quiet as her normal tone, which makes her status as a heavy weapon's operator all the more amusing, right? "Because my armor is about three times your size, and has enough firepower to destroy a small town on it's own. I do not mean body armor, I mean a powered suit, imported from Germany..at least, that’s where they told me it was from when they issued it to me." She says, tone turning sad, and eyes sadder, another bad memory.

Jokin grins a bit at the two, "If you two ladies will excuse me, I've got to get going. I'd love to chat with you more about your imported power armor." He adds to Sabbat, "Maybe you'd like to meet out at the firin range a tomorrow?" he adds as he starts to stand from his seat. The remains of the lemon square quickly devoured.

Bartholemew sorta listens in on the conversation at the other table, his attention moving back more to his friend at his own table, "So is that gonna work out for you? In a couple a days, a few hours at the range?" maybe missing his answer before.

"Cannot bring it into this city." Now it makes sense to Aya. "I understand. I have seen the power they wield, and wreckage of them on battlefields."

"Da, cahn mehke taheem szehn fohr shoot, Bahrt. Mahny szahnk yoo," Pavel says. He then offers, "Een Russia, hahv mahny beeg rohbahts cohm frohm Gehrmahny. Mahny trohbel een vrohng hahnds." Then he returns to sipping his drink.

Sabbat moves to stand after Jokin does, and smiles at Aya. "Incredibly destructive indeed, but a necessity where I grew up to have such things. We faced being over ran by the wild animals, much less bandits, Coalition..things." She says, and pushes her plate of treats over to Aya. "Try some of the brownies, they're good. To Die For." She says again before moving off to get the rest of her drink in a to go cup of large size and then wanders off to explore Kingsdale!

Bartholemew nods agreeing with the big man, "Yeah, well, just about anything can be trouble in the wrong hands. Been looking for a pilot for a while now, so far, I still think I'm a better pilot than most. An I'm a ground pounder, not an airdale. Thought I found a good one with Tek. Not to talk bad about him, cause he's an upstanding type a guy, but, he's still got a few more hours in the cockpit he needs to work out."

Aya now has the table to herself. The others had important needs elsewhere, leaving her to drink her coffee, sugar, and cream. If she was offended at all, she does not appear so.

Pavel smiles. "Cahn paheeloht hohrse, boot noszeeng ehlse." He does the 'subtle' hard-glance in Aya's direction a few times before inviting, "Aya mehbe cohm seet? Tahlk veesz Pavel, meet new pehrsohn?"

Bartholemew gives a shrug and a nod, "Hey, I'm always up for meeting new people, invite her over. She sounds harmless enough." giving a light chuckle.

Aya stands again with her cup and moves to the other table. "What do you want to talk of? Who is this?" She gestures to the other man but still faces Pavel.

"Szees Bahrt, faheetehr too. Bahrt, szsees Aya. Faheetehr vho vyehry nev to ceety. Mehbe Bahrt cahn hyehlp mohr szahn Pavel, I noht nov ahl of faheeteeng eepohrtahnt heer." Pavel waves is mug 'downtown.' "Need knov szaht Aya speek noht so good, booht deefehrehnt szahn Pavel. Pavel knov vohrds and vhy vohrds ahr sehd. Aya has prohblehm sohmtaheems knoveeng vhy vohrd ees sehd. Mehbe tvo faheetehr cahn geht togeszehr?"

Bartholemew nods to Pavel's introduction, "Howdy Aya. So your a soldier type?" asking trying to figure out what kind of fighter she may be, after all there are all kinds out there.

"I am a warrior, yes." Aya now sits on a chair at the table. "You are a warrior?" She drinks the cup dry and sets it down.

Bartholemew nods to the woman, "That I am, was former military for Kingsdale, then went freelance after my tour was up. Where you from? You speak pretty good American, but I can tell you're not from around anywhere near here."

Aya tilts her head at his assumption. "I am from Franklin. It is only a few weeks walk from this city. I have known American all my life. You were a warrior, now you are not?"

Bartholemew gives a shake of his head with a light chuckle, "Oh no, I am still a warrior, just not a warrior for anyone cept myself now. I choose my fights, no one chooses them for me. So were you a soldier there in Franklin?"

"I also fight for myself." Aya shakes her head. "I did not fight for Franklin. I was born there. There is no more Franklin, now. It was destroyed in a battle."

Bartholemew tilts his head slightly, "Coalition?" asking the obvious choice in the razing of a town. "Are you more of a long range or up close kind of fighter? I consider myself decent at both, though I prefer ranged combat to up close."

Aya does not immediately answer, pausing to give it thought. She then shakes her head. "No, I do not think it was this Coalition. The battle was near Franklin, not against it, but the end was the same. I can fight with hand weapons or energy weapons, near and far."

Bartholemew nods with her answer, "Do you have a preference when it comes down to it?" taking some time to enjoy his cigar and get it going again before it completely snuffs out on its own from lack of attention.

"No, no preference." Aya's head shakes once more. "Whatever is most appropriate for the battle. A warrior must be adaptable and broad in skill."

Bartholemew nods in agreement with Aya, "That is true, along with being equipped correctly for the job being done. I find that helps to keep you from needing to adapt on the fly. So why here? This the first place you came across or something?"

Aya nods at this time. "Yes. This is the first city I have visited. It is much larger than any other town or village."

Bartholemew agrees, "Yeah, one of the bigger places one can visit. What kind of town was Franklin? We're mostly tech factories round here."

"I do not know. It was already gone when I first saw it." Aya admits. "It was not large, and there was little remaining. Agriculture, not manufacturing, I think."

Bartholemew gives a sharp nod and slams down the last of his coffee that has gone cold over time. With a slight face indicating that wasn't all that great, "Well, I think it's time for me to head on out. I got me a surgery in the morning, an I don't wanna miss it. It was nice meeting you, maybe you can swing by with Pavel and check out some heavy weapons with us. I set up a demonstration for us, your more than welcome by me, as long as Pavel is kewl with it."

Aya nods to Bartholemew. "I will come if I can. It will be good to train more."

Rasputin walks into the small coffee house, his smart looking suit standing out in this much more relaxed environment. He of course, has his cane with him. He looks around and walks over to the coffee counter and gets in line.

Bartholemew gives the woman a smile and heads out of the coffee shop and on his way.

Pavel comes back into the coffeehouse, having left earlier to regroup his emotions after a very public tumultuous evening in the Merchant's Plaza. In theory, there should be a mug of cold coffee somewhere near Aya. He looks a bit surprised, possibly not having noticed Bartholemew leaving.

Aya is still present, with a cup that is now empty. Other than that, there is no indication that she has so much as moved.

Rasputin gets his cup of coffee and looks around. He blinks as he notices Pavel, who has just returned. He smiles and heads his way over to where he is sitting. He chuckles and walks over to ask, "Good evenink." He smiles, "Greetinks to you Pavel." He smiles.

Having just sat down without really taking in the rest of the room or even giving Aya a proper re-greeting, Pavel is himself somewhat surprised by Rasputin's voice. Still, it's one that makes him smile, almost appearing as if some kind of weight has been lifted from his shoulders. << Rasputin! What are you doing all the way up here, when you could be enjoying your own, proper coffee at home? >> Sure, it's okay to inadvertently slip into your native tongue when such a sudden situation presents itself.

With no more coffee, sugar, and cream, and no immediate questions, Aya stands. She leaves the two men to speak as she walks for the exit.

Rasputin watches the person, whom he does not know get up and leave. In Russian he says, "I'm not interrupting, am I?" He looks back to Pavel, tugging his beard.

Pavel watches Aya depart, offering his own, "Do svidaniya," as she moves past. Then he's back to the dwarf. << Nothing to be interrupted, I've just come in, after having gone out. Please, sit. Give me some sane company. Not referring to Aya, she's nice. But another. >>

Rasputin nods slowly and sits down. He takes a sip of his coffee before he says anything. Just looks around the shop and smiles. In Russian he says, "Dis a nice shop. I've only been here once or twice. Not a bad little place." He looks to you, "You come here often?"

There's a moment of thought before Pavel answers. << No, no. But not anywhere more or less than anywhere else. Sometimes here for coffee, sometimes down to the Nightingale for a beer. Stroll in the Park, walk through the Plaza. >> He grins widely. << I like my forge, and I like my meadow. It's simple, and I don't feel confined. But yes, they do make decent coffee. Tea, too. Pastries. You should move you restaurant farther north! Competition is healthy, right? >>

Rasputin chuckles softly and shakes his head, "Net, net. Mine deli is where it needs to be for my business. I serve both the Dregs, and the city. If I move it too far up town, then I can't serve the Dregs. It is important I am able to serve both." He grins a bit, and sips his coffee.

<< I understand. Profit and charity, doing good deeds for both worlds. I do business with people in the 'Dregs, for their simple necessities, but I must admit that I stay out of them once the sun has gone down. >> Pavel waggles a finger in Rasputin's direction. << Because dangerous people like Bella like to live, work and hunt in the dark. Tonight it was the Plaza, but when I sent her away, I'm sure her destination was the 'Dregs, for food. I will not suffer her company any longer; I can't live with myself standing next to such an evil without doing something about it. She just sealed it tonight. >>

Rasputin nods slowly. He sips his coffee as you speak your words. He nods slowly, in Russian he says, "Has she crossed a line?" He shakes his head and continues, "I was hoping that she wouldn't warrant removal, that she truly was trying to redeem herself. Or at least was laying so low that she wasn't causing any issues to anyone." He sighs and tugs his beard, "So, what did she do?"

Pavel shrugs a big shoulder. << In brief? She threatened my life and pulled a knife. A knife that I now have. >> A small but beautiful blade is set on the table. << A knife that I made for her when I first arrived. I was frustrated because some merchants couldn't understand what I was saying. She made a crack about it being my accent, which I responded to sarcastically along the lines of, 'you're a genius for noticing.' Then she just went from there. She started chasing down a new man in town, trying to get him alone, leading him on like she wanted to screw him. >> He shrugs once more. << So she is an evil that I will no longer stand with. I'm sure that there are others in the city who are more interested in direct action against her, as I don't see her... redeeming herself. >>

Rasputin nods slowly and shakes his head, he replies in Russian, "Do be careful in this city, as until she has broken a law she is welcome in it." He tugs his beard, then sips his coffee. He thinks a few moments, "Unless you get her in the Dregs, though as you are saying, it would most likely be catching her in the act there." He sighs, "Of course, if you were able to just stake her you could hold her until we figure out something to do with her." He sips his coffee again.

<< I'd rather not fight her alone, anywhere. I'm a lot stronger than she is, that I'm sure. She's probably much faster than me, that I'm sure. No, I'd leave that to others. If I were to get in that one swing, it would take her out. But I would need that one hit. >> Pavel waves off a hand. << I'm a simple smith, not the kind to start fights with anyone, particularly the supernatural. I'd find assistance somewhere else, if I were to do it. But, tell me, my friend, what is it that brings you up here? Certainly not to hear me abandon a friendship for the sake of the common good. >>

Rasputin sips his coffee. He doesn't speak for a few moments, then says in Russian, "Well, yes, it seems I tend to miss most of the action these days, but perhaps I can assist. We will see..." He trails off and sighs, "So, my trip up town? I was actually looking for you, but didn't know where to look. I just happened into here for a quick cup of coffee." He grins, "Remember those canes I was speaking to you about? I've finished them."

<< Oh? I guess you didn't bring them along unless you count the long hard cane in your pants, right? >> Pavel laughs loudly, then excuses himself briefly to get a new cup of coffee. He returns quickly. << So, are you in a hurry to turn a regular special magical cane set into an elegant special magical cane set? >>

Rasputin chuckles a bit, and leans down, then pulls up a small leather bag. He chuckles and waits for you to wander back with your fresh coffee. Then he pulls out two canes. They are Bone-White, with what looks like a claw for the handle at the top. They are elegant and natural looking. Fine points, and only about 2 feet long. In other words they are perfect for someone of Rasputin's stature, 4'6". He smiles and in Russian, "I've done some prep work for you," He points out the perfectly engraved lines which are cared out of the material. "I would like silver on one side, and gold on the other," He smiles, "And of course, silver tip and if you can coat the handle in gold." He smiles, "I would like an estimate first, as my inflow is only so much at the moment."

Pavel reaches to take one of the canes, listening and nodding, but then stops to frown and ask, << Didn't we just run out of sides? Or is it that you want one half of the grip to be silver, one half gold, then the shaft gold with a silver point on the end ? >>

Rasputin shakes his and smiles, "The tip, here," he points to the ground striking end, "would be silver cap," he runs his fingers up the lines, "will be silver," he rolls it over, "This side gold. I don't mind, which side is which, but patterns are different on each side. Just match them, if you can," He grins, "And leaf the claw, with gold." He smiles, "Does that make sense?"

Pavel looks closely at the bone. << Sure. Just do the inlay; sides are different but as long as I keep them separate, you don't care which is which. Sharp silver end for dealing with Bella and of course a gold handle. I can assume that's only because it won't tarnish under the natural acids extruded from our hands? >> He follows up with a wink and a chuckle. << How large a tip do you want? >>

Rasputin nods and smiles, "Da, da." He thinks a few moments, "it is tapered to the point, just cap it up to here." He smiles and indicates about four inches up the shaft, "Would that be fine?"

<< Yes. I can do this. But it will take time. Very delicate work, obviously - and for an obviously special cane, >> Pavel states. << Still, with how worn out I am, and with everything that I'm making for the people northeast of here, and those in the 'Dregs, it will take time if you want to have it done correctly. It could take a while. Particularly if you want me to harden the metals so that they aren't easily chipped. If you're in a hurry... you may need to find someone up in the Plaza, or maybe along the River Walk where the specialty stores are kept. >>

Rasputin smiles and shakes his head, "Net, net." He says in Russian, "Take your time, do it right." He smiles a bit, "No, make sure give me a good estimate, and not cut me a deal." He grins, "I want you to get paid." He chuckles.

A smile is followed with kind words. << Thank you, Rasputin. Yes, I will give you a fair price. There's another obvious question that I have to ask, though. Just how much material do you want? You know that I'm not like other smiths that you'll find. I can put on the material so thin that it would make paper weep because of its beauty. Or I can slap on a quarter-inch and make you feel proud to call it your own. >> Pavel hands the cane back. << Did you want it hardened, or is natural malleability, softness and durability not an issue for this application? >>

Rasputin tugs his beard, "Put it in deep enough to fill the engravings, flush with the rest of the shaft, so it won't fill with dirt or anything." He sips his coffee, "As for harden, well, I didn't think of that. Your skill allows that?" He ponders, "It would be nice if it didn't just rub off if I use it in combat," He ponders a bit, "Could you tell me how much it would cost to do that, and how much without?"

<< No, no. I'll fill in your engravings, obviously. But there will be a certain layer thickness on the outside. Would you like me to minimize it to a thin sheet, or do you want something more substantial? It makes little difference to me beyond how much material I need to buy. But I'll take these measurements to my supplier, then I can get back to you with an estimate. >> Finally, Pavel has time for a sip of coffee. << Oh, and if you want the tip for vampire hunting, I can make it more dangerous against them, but I need to refine the silver to a rather exceptional quality. This costs more even simply because I have to start with better material. But I can put together some various costs for you, before I do anything. Both canes, correct? >>

Rasputin nods slowly, "Yes, yes. Both canes yes. And if possible, yes against vampires would be great. Though, hardened first is fine." He chuckles, "These will be a nice pair, replace my older canes." He finishes his coffee. "I fear I think I need to head back to the Deli. Need to make sure Ana isn't burning anything." He smiles, "If you have other questions, please be asking me yes?"

<< Only one more, I suppose. I'd love to talk, but I don't want to keep you. The canes. Should they match identically? If the front is gold on one, it should also be gold on the other, or would you like to swap, for variety? >> Pavel scoots his chair out, quickly draining his mug.

Rasputin tries to finish his own coffee, again, but shakes his head and smiles, "Surprise me. Identical is OK, and mirror images is fine." He grins, "Either is good, da. But their properties should be the same, magically speaking da?" He slides out of his own chair, with his old cane, "Good evening Pavel."

The large fellow dips his head, and says not much more on the subject other than, << I have no idea if synchronized symbols in your craft is good or not, Rasputin. >> Pavel then makes to simply follow out, as his ride in the form of the giant Friesian mare Zoyenka is awaiting his return.

Rasputin grins, "Da, da. It is more about art on this piece, well at this point." He chuckles, and smiles. Rasputin leads out, then heads south back to his deli.