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Beards & Brews: Times Two

Beards and Brews returns for another installment at The Spirits! Come and cheer on your favorite beard attached to what might be your favorite person. This round of Beards & Brews will have prizes sponsored by House Clearlake for the Best Beard, Best Decoration and Honorable Mention. So come out to The Spirits, show off your beard and enjoy some good company along with it!

Date

Dec. 10, 2018, 8 p.m.

Hosted By

Acantha Mirk

Participants

Waldemai Edward Morrighan Cirroch Aureth Brianna Harlex Mirella Khanne Helena Vercyn Berenice Carita Malcolm Mikani Eddard Rowenova Draven Fiora Scythia Lore

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of House Redrain - The Spirits - Main Bar

Largesse Level

Grand

Comments and Log


It's time for Beards and Brews again! The Spirits have graciously agreed for the event to take place inside and given that it's snowing outside that's a good thing for most. One of the hosts for the evening, Lady Acantha Clearlake is seated at the bar with a mug in her hands and a smile on her face as she speaks to a few people. Once the crowd starts getting a bit larger though she gives a wave to all, "Good evening and thank you all for coming out to the well loved Beards and Brews event. I apologize that Lord Arik is not with us right now, he is being a bit detained with War Minister things for House Halfshav, but might join us later." she smiles to everyone.



"As everyone knows we have three categories for tonight, Best Beard, Best Decoration and Honorable Mention. No one person can win the same category, just to make it fair." she grins.



"So what we'll do is have each participant come up, show off their beard and or decoration and then go from there with votes to myself or Lord Mirk." she motions to her co-host for the evening.



5 Redoubt Buccaneers, Bengalo, a sneaky black kitten, Luna, the sweet, studious assistant arrive, following Carita.

Waldemai sits down at the large table, knocking snow from his boots and brushing it from his shoulders. Beardless, he's clearly there to watch the show. "Ale, please," he signals.

Senna, a whip of a man arrives, following Vercyn.

Gregory, an unassuming disciple, 2 Templar Knight guards, Binky, an asshole crow arrive, following Aureth.

5 Sanna House Guards, Petroc, the most unassuming man you have ever met arrive, following Cirroch.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow arrive, following Mirella.

Khanne has joined the Sturdy Table.

Edward's a little known presence in the ward at times but tonight he has shown up for the beards. Or the brew. Hard to tell. As he walks through room towards the bar he smiles at those he knows giving a nod in passing until he can belly up against the wood grain of the counter and get something to drink.

Edward has joined the Bar.

Knocking back a glass partially filled with some liquor or another - whiskey, no doubt - the Sword of Farhaven observes as people begin to trickle into The Spirits. She half leans against the edge of her table, having taken up residency at one of the back booths, largely removed from the majority of the crowd. Morrighan reaches for the bottle resting upon her table, upending the contents into her glass about a third of the day. From what can be seen of the amount sloshing about, it's evident enough the dame has been drinking here for a while.

Bears? Cirroch has a beard! It's time for him to show it off! His short, neatly trimmed beard and the rest of him enter The Spirits, chin held high to show it off as he enters and straddles his way up to the bar to take a seat, giving a wave to the people he knows.

Cirroch has joined the Bar.

Mirk stands off to one side, watching the crowd trickle in to the Spirits. He lifts a hand in a wave as he's introduced as the cost-host, and says, "You'll have to make do with me for the evening. Fortunate for all of you, as it takes me of the running for tonight." He runs one hand through his magnificent beard, as if lamenting the loss. "In support of Lady Acantha's decision to host this evening, I will be covering the tab at the bar. Drinks are on me. I know that you will make me regret the decision, but I will be content as long as no one gets drunk enough to destroy this fine establishment."

Golden hair bound into a loose knot at the nape of his neck, Aureth arrives at the Spirits like a man who hasn't been here in a literal year but still vaguely recalls where it is. His beard is neat! It's groomed! It's trimmed! Maybe that's why he's decided to show up. Though, one cannot say it has any unusual decoration. It's possible that he's overdressed for the Spirits -- it's an outfit better suited to froofier, poncier times -- but whatever. He lifts a hand to wave at one or another people that he knows as he comes in, grin crooked. Is it backwards priesting to head for the shaman's table as soon as he comes in? "Hey!" he calls to her over the bustle.

Aureth has joined the Sturdy Table.

Brianna has been here for a while, watching the crowd quietly from her spot in the corner of the bar. She smiles at Edward when he takes a seat, turning to listen to Mirk as he speaks. She turns to order a bottle of whiskey and rum, pulling her glass closer to her so she can finish what is already in there.

Harlex is in the midst of holding the door open that Berenice, gracious in presence as she is, may walk into the bar with her usual flare. He is not so much a flare. The black-clad swordsman has a skeptical look on his face. "Sure you're feelin' well? This ain't exactly our usual kinda--establishment." He says, skeptically, before he hears Acantha's declaration and greeting to those who enter in before them. Yet the gears have not quite begun to turn in his mind. "Looks like they got some thing happenin'." He pauses a moment, closing the door behind them. There's a sword scabbard resting on his shoulder, wooden with a band of crimson silk near the top, he pounces it a bit with some thought, holding the hilt.

Mirella's entrance is a quiet enough one insofar as her light steps and dark-cloaked attire render her inconspicious. The horrible cawing of a crow flying around outside heralds her presence, but not at such a pitch as to attract attention. And so it is that the Lycene servant finds herself a quiet place to stand, somewhere from which to observe. Why is she here? Information gathering, probably. Gathering information about beards.

Khanne walks into the Bar with a smile, waving to everyone. "Contrary to my Uncle's insisting I grow one, I have not... and so, I am here to drink." She settles at the sturdy table, her usual, when she is not hiding out at the back booth. Looking up at Mirk she flashes him a smile and says, "best bottle of whiskey then, good Sir." Aureth joins her at her table and she smiles to him. "Well, hello there. Good to see you. That's a stunning romper."



Entering The Spirits with snowy cloak and pink cheeks, Helena looks surprised to see Acantha explaining the event -- she was simply coming in for a drink. She has a little pine marten perched on her shoulder that she's feeding something from her hand, just in case anyone was worried they weren't in Redrain Ward. She smiles when she sees some of her people and moves toward the bar to grab herself not a brew, but a whiskey, warmed and in a mug. She leans back against the bar to watch what's going on.

And there is -- yes! yes there is! -- a Duke Vercyn present at the Spirits this evening. One could argue he's present just to ensure Mirk regrets footing the bill. But the man DOES have a fine beard. And it's a beard bereft of any decoration, so surely he's not competing in that category. He follows shortly after Khanne, shaking snow out of his cloak. "You would sport a fine beard, Khanne," he calls after his niece. "Far better than your brother, one could argue." And he follows her order with another bottle of whiskey. Because the sooner Mirk's regrets begin, the better.

Eddard has joined the Wobbly Table.

Vercyn has joined the Sturdy Table.

"Right? This new tailor, Vincenzo, had it ready for me in approximately no time at all. Brilliant," Aureth shares with bright and cheery energy, spreading his arms so as to better display his very dramatic silvery romper in case anyone overheard this. "First rate work. You can borrow my beard for any bearding purposes you need, though."

Twitchy arrives, following Draven.

Sir Floppington, the soulful hound, Draven arrive, following Rowenova.

Berenice is soon shedding her coat once Harlex opens the door for her to step inside and she's greeted by the luxurious warmth of the inn. Mmmm warmth. "I'm hurt! I can romp with the Northerners /quite/ well, thank you." She, too, catches Acantha's announcement, and her eyes go wide with innocent surprise in the most obviously feigned manner imaginable that it /must/ be on purpose. "What's this! Some sort of competition about /beards/? How marvelous: /you/ have a beard! Well now we /have/ to join." No of course she didn't manufacture this coincidence!



Acantha gives a smile to Mirk when he states that he's covering the tab for the event and she gives a dip of her head to him, "Thank you, Lord Mirk." she tells him. "That's very nice of you." she adds. Then she gives a smile to those that arrive, a wave to those that she does know and a dip of the head to those she doesn't, "Come on in, drinks are on Lord Mirk Halfshav this evening! We'll start the beard parade here in just a few." she grins.



There's an air about both Carita as she arrives, of being hurried, as she's fashionably late-ish. She pauses just inside the door, her blue eyes scanning the inhabitants until she happens upon Mirk, who she makes her way for. "Sorry I'm late, are those without beards accepted here tonight?"

Malcolm's here - look at that. He steps into the Spirits, clapping leather clad hands together with a boyish eagerness, rubbing the warm back into his fingers. "Not here for the beardin', but here for the brewing. The drinking and appreciation of, mind you -- gods there is a crowd. Oh, look, that silvered thing looks qquite smart with that coat, it does. I'm going to be wishing I'd have stayed back at the manor with my own bottle." At least the Duke's here without his sausage dog, so that's a positive.

Mikani slips in and pokes Carita on the shoulder

Eddard arrives looking more comfortable than fashionable, thick scarf and comfortable flannel. A seasilk waistcoat the only nod towards high society fabrics. He does have a beard, an auburn thing just long enough to begin curling but brushed out. Towards a wobbly table is where he will take up residence, since there are a bunch of people here!

Scout Rowenova opens up the tavern door with her left hand after which the soulful hound (Sir Floppington) enters inside. Soon after, she twirls through with her right hand happily holding Draven's left (their matching rings on those same hands) as they move through. She peeks around with a merry wave toward the whole tavern at large here, then heads back to the central table.

Malcolm has joined the Back Booth.

Rowenova has joined the A central table with benches.

Khanne reaches up and rubs her hand over her smooth chin, eyes lifting to Vercyn. "Thank you Uncle, but I do think I will remain as I am... all soft porcelain skin." Chuckling towards Aureth she says, "that is a generous offer. Does it uh... come off easily?"

Aureth tugs lightly on the beard at his chin as though experimentally and then reports sadly, "It appears to be attached, just as it grew, alas."

Draven has joined the A central table with benches.

Waldemai waves a mug of ale in the air. "Thank you, m'lord!" he calls across the room.

Helena has joined the Bar.

1 Redreef Warden arrives, following Scythia.

Harlex's nose scrunches a bit and his eyes narrow at this /happy coincidence/ they have stumble upon. "I guess I do," he replies. Unconvinced. With a gesture, he guides them to the bar and he orders a whisky as quickly as he's able to get the attention of the bartender. His sword laid against the counter's corner. "You're very clever, darlin'," he says to Berenice with a mingling of annoyance and a much deeper adoration. Though he looks to the hostess, Acantha, "How does a fella sign up for this?"

Mirella checked dexterity + stealth at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Khanne reaches over and playfully tugs at Aureth's beard. There is a small frown when it does not move. "Maybe we could shave it off and adhere it to some cloth with like... ear loops? So it can stay in place and be transferable."

"By all means, Mirk says to Carita with a dip of his head in greeting to the woman. "Grab a seat at the bar, I'll treat you to proper whiskey, and you can prepare to judge and vote upon the beards on display." He smirks slightly, near the beginning, but it fades into his typical, neutral expression as he sits down and eyes the crowd. "There seems to be some competition tonight."

Mirk has joined the Bar.

In a swish of black velvet cloak, Mirella wanders through the crowd, moving towards silently Eddard. She tries to gently tap him on the shoulder without him seeing her.

Giggling happily and flittering about with boundless energy, Draven arrives with his Wife, hand-in-hand, which is about the only counter point for how he bounces around. He giggles and beams his bright smile at everyone who crosses his path, waving his free hand at anyone in eyesight as Nova brings him to the table.

Helena is overheard praising Carita: nice beard.

Mikani gets a whiskey at the bar and looks for a seat.

"I feel," Aureth says in resoundingly thoughtful tones, "as though shaving off my beard would be against the spirit of the piece." He gestures open-handedly throughout the room. "But you do probably look better without," he asides to Khanne. "You have a very attractive jaw. Is this a weird compliment? It sounds like a weird compliment."



Acantha gives a smile to Harlex, "We'll just have everyone line up and show off one by one, my Lord." she tells him with a dip of her head. "Just need to get things to a point where all the bearded people can come up and show off and then we'll get the votes done and see who is going to take home some prizes." she states.



"Ah, Lady Carita!" Berenice laughs delightedly upon spotting her acquaintance in her current state of beardly attire. She flashes a smug smile over to Harlex as she steps further inside. "I am," she agrees. Her gaze skips across the gathering, noting those she knows, and her smile warms for Malcolm in his booth. "Duke Malcolm, /marvelous/ to see you again. I'd join you, but you look quite snug in there!" So she sets about considering her options of tables with perhaps exaggerated care.

Stepping in quietly, Fiora immediately remands herself to a quiet, safe, quiet, corner. Tucking herself into the wall so no one could possibly speak to her without her knowing first, Fiora watches the room quietly, brows slightly knit.

Someone wearing Carita with a rabbit fur beard has joined the Bar.

Harlex has joined the line.

"Or," Vercyn says as he settles in, watching Khanne as she tugs at Aureth's beard, "you could use a bit of honey to apply it." Once he's got a bottle of whiskey, he drapes casually in his chair as people pour into the Spirits. "I wonder," he proposes aloud, "who might be up to the task of beginning to design proper adornments for beards. Do you think, Khanne, I should start wearing something in mine for each season?" He lifts a free hand to stroke at his own. "Perhaps some jeweled designs to look like flowers come spring? Or a little thing that looks like a bee-" he prods at his jaw right at one side, "right here." Why not get into the spirit of the evening?

Cirroch has joined the line.

Vercyn has joined the line.

Draven has joined the line.

Mikani has joined the Bar.

Eddard saw Mirella, and saw her moving around everywhere. So he'll just turn around to look over his shoulder and smile at her. "So pleasant to see you around here, Mistress Mirella."

It is curiosity and curiosity alone that likely brings Scythia in to such an event. After all, she is quite beardless. A hand is even moving to her smooth as can be jawline to stroke it as she peers across those in attendance. Though she is not hesitant, for once she is not traipsing through to look for the most perfect seating area. Instead, she is content enough to simply stand off to the side and observe.

Khanne hmms and twists her lips in thought. "I'll accept the compliment. I do have a lovely jaw." Smiling she gestures to Aureth's beard. "And your beard probably looks best right where it is. Will you be competing tonight?" Tilting her head, she considers Vercyn closely. "I could speak to Ida perhaps. Miniature hairpins? Mine are rather amazing. Do you like them?"

Mikani sees Scythia come in the door. "Hey Scythia! Welcome to the crowd!"

Carita's smile still shines through her beard, because there's a gap for her mouth. "Your Highness," she beams Berenice's way, "always a delight to see you!" A hand lifts to stroke over the rabbit fur of her 'beard' as she makes sure it's set in to place properly. The poke given to her my Mikani earns the Redreef woman a smile as she motions towards the bar, "Come join me--er us?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm rather plain and unadorned. I suppose I could try and steal some of the--" Aureth gestures at some of the rest of the glitter that affixes his Faithly robes. He holds up the charm bracelet he's wearing thoughtfully. "Skulls?" he suggests quizzically. "Less likely to sting people than bees."

"Snug as a bug, Princess," Malcolm assures Berenice with a beaming smile. Nay - a grin. All teeth and lines that crease the edges of his eyes when he offers the expression. Then, his expressively bushy eyebrows lift - knit - and quirk. Not unlike a curious dog, complete with head tilt. "Huh. Nah, have no beard here to compete with, though I've got some sporting stubble. It's my - shit what have I gotten myself into forget it not gonna shave just leave me alone about military operations - stubble." Then, he notices Scythia, lifting a hand in greeting toward the Redreef lady. "That's my protege, all. Did you come for the beards or the brews?"

Turn in line: Harlex

It's beard judging time, and Draven giggles happily and bounces up to his feet, leaving Nova behind as he darts across the room to get in line. His whirlwind of energy, bringing him through the room as he skids to a halt in place. His wrists drum on his thighs as he bounces on the balls of his feet, giggling brightly.

Not too worried about proper etiquette (are they going to throw her out?), Helena steps up from the barstool to rest her bottom on the counter of the bar, so she can see over the taller folk and watch the event. She crosses her ankles neatly, her feet on the stool where she should probably be sitting, and sips from the warm mug of whiskey. "So many strong contenders," she says, watching the men get in line, her eyes glancing at each of them, appraising them for the finest chinstraps and face foliage.

Aureth has joined the line.

If Mirella is disappointed that she's been caught red-hanedd, there's no sign of it written across her face. In fact, there's not much of an expression at all as she dips into a very petite but polite curtsy, efficient and correct. She smiles back at Eddard, however, the faintest quirk of a smile before she replies, "And the same to you." After peeting around the room, she turns back to cast a quick, deadpan glance at Eddard's face, lingering on his chin for the smallest of moments. Then she looks him straight in the eye. "You don't intend to compete, do you?"

Rowenova stays seatuated, peeking over toward Draven with a hearty laugh at his sudden departure before she leans closer to speak quietly to Waldemai.

"Miniature hairpins," Vercyn echoes, thoughtfully. "Perhaps, perhaps. Yes, we should see what Ida thinks. I will gladly give them a trial run." He does lean to look at his niece's hairpins. "Just how many of those do you own, now? Does your husband trip over them trying to find his boots?" There is a wolfish grin from the Duke before his attention shifts to Aureth. "Skulls? I would wear skulls in my beard into battle. Or... in the autumn. No, no, spring is for living things." See! He knows fashion. Beard fashion. But then it's time for the contest to begin and, well. He downs a good bit of whiskey and gets to his feet, rumbling with a stretch as he ambles his way over... then back to grab the whiskey to take with him. This may take a while, after all.



Acantha gives a bit of a smile as she starts to pace a little back and forth. Apparently the bear was running late. There's a look given to Mirk and a dip of her head before she's looking to the line of contestants, "First up, Master Harlex!" she calls.



Khanne shoos Aureth up into the line. "Yes! Go and do it! Have fun! I'll sit here and... drink and admire the beards from afar." And with that, she picks up that bottle of whiskey she ordered earlier and pops it open, tilting her head back to take a good drink." Settling it back down she says to Vercyn, "I will write to Ida.. tomorrow.. I have a pile of letters to catch up on tomorrow..... A PILE."

Scythia's flashing a smile toward the other Redreef, Mikani, a hand lifting up to gesture in a light motion of greeting toward her. There are a few other choice people at the bar that she's flashing a smile toward, such as cousins -- and likely a disguised liege in their midst as well. When Malcom's voice registers, she is shifting in his direction and greeting him and his table companion with a curtsy. "My Lord," she greets. "I am. Curiosity has drawn me in." When the first contestant is announced, her attention is moving in that direction.

"Ohhhhh no. I don't have nearly the beard that most of those I think will be competing have." Eddard pulls a chair out beside him to offer it to Mirella. "Sit down, friend."

Someone wearing Carita with a rabbit fur beard has joined the line.

Someone mentions idly, "This is the first beards and brews we've had where Lord Arik has not been here to sound like he's murdering cats. I might have to see about returning."

Aureth shakes loose the bracelet from his wrist and begins studiously attempting -- and failing -- to weave the chain and skulls into his short, neatly kempt dark blond beard, while he awaits his turn.

Harlex wasn't quite /aware/ of the fact he'd be competing in such a competition until, well, at least a few minutes ago. With a quick flick, his whisky glass is emptied and set upside down on the bar. He steps forward, as he seems to be the first to be judged. He had all the characteristics of a sellsword in his features--leanness, suntouched skin, a set changelessness that came from years of silence; solitude. But they had come to see his beard. Coarse, black hairs fill out the dimensions of a strong and hard jaw with hard lips set beneath the whiskers of that tenebrous pelt framed into a passable expression of focus. As far as any performance went, he simply surveyed the room under the scrutiny of his gaze. It was definitely a beard suited to the wolfish mercenary, fiercely grown on the long road tended to only mildly but enough to make him handsome for those with rugged inclinations. And once all were done in their observation--he'd wait to exit stage right.

Malcolm puts his fingers up to his mouth and blows a shrill whistle, stamping his boots until the floorboards reverberate beneath his feet. "First beard up. Look at that mighty creation. Those whiskers that set the rest of Aion to defy 'em." He's an enthusiastic supporter of facial hair - no matter who is presenting themselves for judging.

Harlex checked composure + intimidation at difficulty 15, rolling 3 higher.

Spying his cousin, Edward gives Scythia a wave and a smile when she comes to talk with Mikani, "Good evening, cousin. I see you are getting around well enough." he glances to the gathering and the bearded event going on while he sips at his rum before he glances to the bar and says something there.

Turn in line: Cirroch

Berenice has joined the Wobbly Table.

When its Cirroch's turn, he gets up from the bar and struts out in front of the crowd with all his stuff, chin held high to show off his beard; a short full beard of jet black against his darkened skin, thin enough you can see a little bit of his chin underneath. He hams it up out there, strinking a pose, flexing his arms in a upwards curl with each of his fingers pointing at his beard. And then he's off back to the bar to order himself some whiskey.

Murmuring a Lycene-accented word of thanks, Mirella takes advantage of the seat that Eddard offers her. She shakes her skirts out neatly as she sits, nodding to the Clement lord before before turning her narrowed, appraising gaze towards Harlex. The mercenary's beard is noted, the various features of that face-covering judged by a bland-faced gaze. Then she looks to Eddard again and quietly (thought not timidly asks, "Have you been well?" What a talker she is.

In the end, Berenice situates herself at a table that she probably did not expect to be /quite/ so wobbly, joining a total stranger there -- Eddard -- without shame. "Hello!" she says, but introductions are delayed by Harlex stepping up as the first competitor. She laughs in absolute delight at how /unenthusiastic/ he is about the whole thing, like a truly terrible person, but there's a thrilled warmth to her gaze as she claps and cheers for him so blatantly.

Malcolm says, "Those majestic bristles that hail from the North - from Giant's Reach to Arx. An' may we thank everything that is and will be for the honor of Cirroch's crumb catcher!" Malcolm's cheering, still, with delight."

Turn in line: Vercyn



Acantha gives a little clap for Harlex when he prowls around like a wolf and shows off his beard, "Everyone, Master Harlex." she smiles. "And next up, Redrains very own Marquis Cirroch!" she gives a smile to the man. Then as he's done there's a clap for him as well, "Very well done." she states. Then she looks at the line, "Next we have Duke Vercyn Halfshav."



Not a total stranger to Eddard, someone who has been paying attention to the mercurial nature of Arxian fashion. "Hello Princess Berenice. I'm Lord Eddard Clement, and over here is Mistress Mirella Fiorelli." A wrinkled and scrunched nose is offered towards Harlex. "Huh. Very interesting."

Khanne looks over to Malcolm's cheering on of the contestants and gives a bit of a chuckle before taking another swig of her whiskey.

Mirella has joined the Wobbly Table.

Scythia's wincing at that shrill whistle from Malcolm, looks on the cusp of offering commentary and in the end she does not say anything. She looks bemused, in a certain way, and as though she is taking mental notes but in the end it is toward the bar and those of Redreef that she drifts. "Cousin," she greets Edward before selecting a place to stand nearby he and Mikani. The latter of which is recipient of a respectful, "Lady Mikani."

Scythia has joined the Bar.

Lore strides on into the bar with a broad smile and a wave for everyone she knows. Toting a large bag of sueded black leather, she makes her way to the bar and smiles at Mirk, "Sorry I'm late! I had to pick up the prizes." She leans in against the bar and slaps a palm down on the bar top to get a drink headed in her direction.

The Duke known as 'The Hungry Wolf' is one who plays the part of domesticated fairly well. He keeps himself well-groomed at least and it shows in his beard as well. Vercyn takes a deep drink of whiskey before stepping up to be judged. He has tended to his beard in preparation for this event and likely grown it out some as well... but it is not a wild beard, nor is it decorated, either! It is just a carefully-tended beard that does not yet hold the silver that shows in his black hair. No, ladies (and gentlemen), the beard is still black as night. The man does not go into any strange showing off: he just steps up, poses, and makes sure to turn his head left, right, a tilt up or down so the light gets his good side (hint: they're all good). And then it's off to he can get back to what he's really here for... drinking.

Mikani looks at Scythia. "You know you can call me Mika right? We're family for crying out loud." Mikani takes a deep draw of her whiskey. "For now anyway."

Berenice does look rather /pleased/ when Eddard recognizes her, and then she laughs at something quieter he says, replying back in lower tones as they converse over the table while watching the show of beards.

Turn in line: Draven

"Sideburns, sidelocks, a mouth brow -- an excellent representation from a fellow Duke." Malcolm's voice has started to go hoarse, and his laugh rasps until he can take a sip from his whiskey and soothe his throat. "Ah, that's golden stuff. What is it? Something I need in Shepherd's cabinets, I'd think," he mutters as he holds up his glass, inspecting the contents with an inordinate amount of interest. "It's a bar, my lady Scythia. Acting appr- rightly for the situation I'm in, yeah?"

Never does Draven stop with his giggling or bouncing in place, his wrists tapping away at his thighs almost like he expects he can become a bango. Then it's his turn, and it looks like he might have forgotten to shave this morning! He darts out in front of the judges with bright giggles, flaunting the minimal stubble that is struggling to grow on his chin. With as much as he moves around, it's hard to tell which motions are him trying to show off his chin, or which are just him being boundlessly moving around.

raises an eyebrow at Lore, as the bartender provides her a drink on his tab, and says, "Thank you, then, for being on top of things. Can I see the bag, then? Arik didn't actually tell me what he'd gotten for our winners." He keeps one eye on Vercyn throughout his modeling, even as he speaks, his eyes sweeping the crowd after.

Draven checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 0 higher.

Turn in line: Aureth



To Malcolm, Helena calls out with a smile, "Northern whiskey. Anything else is merely a ripple in its wake." At Lore's arrival, she lifts a mug of warm whiskey to greet the other woman she's gotten to know but a little of late.



"Thank you, Master Draven!" Acantha calls to him as she gives him a smile and a wiggle of her fingers. Then she gives a look to the line and there's a smile. "I believe our next person is Legate Aureth." she states with a dip of her head to that.



Tucked into the corner, that is where Fiora stays. She isn't quite glaring at Draven and his face-waving. But she is definitely unsure about it, slightly pulling back into the wall with an upturned brow.

Nova stands up from the central table, swigs down her whole cider, then repeatedly bangs on the table top with the emptied mug. She shouts out, "Ah, yeah! That's my man!" Then points out with her empty hand toward Draven!

Mikani waves at Lore, "Hey Lore! I gots some questions for you!"

Scythia's starting to flash a grin before Mikani's words have her sobering substantially. "That sounds rather ominous... Mika." Her eyes widen. "Oh! Are you to be wed, or--" And she sobers, "--are you intending to marry me off? I certainly hope not, with my most recent arrival." She says a few things quietly there at the bar, though it seems to be toward a few of the patrons. Not, of course, that she does not have her watchful eye upon Malcolm. He is regarded, bemused, and she skirts a curtsy. "My lord, Duke Shepherd, you are correct. It is a bar, the mood is quite festive." Evidently festive enough for she to answer from her current place.

Sir Floppers suddenly starts mournfully baying when the wolf scout shouts out!

Giggling happily, Draven brings that storm of energy with him as he darts back to his table. This time when he arrives though, it's with a bit of a leap at his Nova, expecting her to catch him, even if she is seated. He giggles more and hammers her face with repeated kisses, then he shifts slightly to beam his smile over Acantha, waving his hand over at her wildly. "Yes! You're welcome! I hope you liked it! My beard! So majestic! It could be King one day! Not me! Just my beard!"

Khanne rises up from her seat and starts to applaud when Aureth's name is called. "Go Aureth! Rock that beard!"

"We got a face fungus among us, although a brilliant attempt by Professor Draven," Malcolm calls out. Turning aside to toast his glass toward Helena for answering his question, "Much appreciated, thanks." Then, he swivels around to offer Scythia a bright grin, turning back to continue cheering for the next contestant. "Hirsute history in the making, folks!"

As the previous competitors have been quiet in their demonstration of their beardly grace, Aureth is entirely the opposite. He strolls up like the professional performer that he has once been (and might still be,) and declaims, "Thank you for the opportunity to show you all my facial hair, I feel as though it really isn't something that I get the opportunity to show off." He tilts his hand in a framing gesture up by the dark blond beard, silver chain of his bracelet threading so that he more or less has gotten the silver skull and silver wolf charms to dangle ... /up against/ it -- that's like decoration. "As you can see, I've been keeping it in fine and fashionable condition for some time now, and it really does its best to accent the humble good looks I have to offer you all."

Aureth checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 35 higher.

"Trator to the north! Cheering for a non-northern beard!" Accuses Cirroch to Khanne, hollering over to her with a playful grin given her way. "Run her out of the tavern!"

Khanne shrugs to Cirroch and says, "I can't help it. He has fabulous hair and a beard to match!" She gestures to Aureth. "Just look how it sets that silver off as if it is the most precious of metals!"

"Hi Your Highness!" Lore calls out with a grin towards Helena even as she hands the bag over to Mirk with a nod. "Sure, of course. He didn't really -specify-, he just asked for prizes. So I made some!" Then she's lifting her glass towards Mikani and nodding, "Sure! You want to talk right now?"

"Yes, this is an Arx-native beard," Aureth claims loudly. "Grown here on Arx-native skin! I've lived here my whole life!"

Nova indeed catches Draven with the empty mug also involved, hugging happily. Those repeated kisses which are given to her cheek make her laugh heartily before she pipes up, "Lord Mirk said he was buying, so order what you want!"

:slips away from the bar to head to Fiora, and hands her the mug of warm, steaming whiskey. "You look like you could use a pick me up," she says with a smile. "Are you just hoping to get away from the snow, and found the local tavern to be loud and full of bearded barbarians?" Her smile turns up a little impishly. "Welcome to Redrain Ward."

"Oh! Face fungus! I can use that! I bet!" Draven answers with more cheerful giggles, sitting himself in Nova's lap and bouncing in to it with a bright smile. Then he calls out across the bar, to Cirroch. "Hey! Nothing wrong with cheering for non-Northerners! Isn't that right, Sir Floppers!" He says with a cheerful giggle, reaching down to pet the Good Boy.

Helena slips away from the bar to head to Fiora, and hands her the mug of warm, steaming whiskey. "You look like you could use a pick me up," she says with a smile. "Are you just hoping to get away from the snow, and found the local tavern to be loud and full of bearded barbarians?" Her smile turns up a little impishly. "Welcome to Redrain Ward."

Helena has left the Bar.

Mikani loops her arm around Lore and pulls her close. "Sure we can. It's rather loud."

It's loud Mikani because Cirroch is shouting at Khanne, "That's it, I'm not inviting you up to Giant's Reach this year!" He calls to her in a way that makes it sound like he's probably lying and will invite her over.

Sir Floppers seems quite happy for Draven to pet upon his flop-eared noggin and even puts his fore paws up on the bench seat beside Nova and Draven, ultimately maximizing petting opportunity!

Turn in line: Someone wearing Carita with a rabbit fur beard

Mikani applauds for Carita, "You wear it!"



Acantha just laughs when there's the shout of traitor when Khanne cheers for Aureth, "I think everyone is allowed to cheer for the non-Northern people if they brave the event and grace us with their bearded visage." she grins. Then she looks to the line and then she grins, "And next we have...Rabbit!" she states. Because she doesn't know the name. But the beard looks like rabbit. So she runs with it.



Nova grunts lowly about the fungal talk, but she happily keeps one arm around Draven's waistline whilst her other hand picks up the next mug brought forth. Though, she shouts out, "Ah yeah, that's my Favorite Countess right there!" toward the rabbit-beared Carita!

Khanne smirks at Cirroch as she retakes her chair. "You are one of our vassals. I don't need an invite." She gives him a wink and an impish smile.

At some point, Harlex obtained another glass of whisky. He still stood over by the contestants, waiting for the final judgement. Though he does set his drink aside to clap a bit for Aureth because, hey, he did a good job.

And then Cirroch breaks his own rule and cheers for Carita AKA Rabbit, "Go Rabbit! You got my vote!" He cheers loudly for her, drumming his hand on the bar. And he ain't even drunk yet. He gives a laugh over to Khanne, shrugging his shoulders and returns to his whiskey.

Not prepared to compete, Carita's beard was just suppose to be a joke to make people laugh. However, when it's her turn she models it with flare. Rising, her tilts her chin up to show off the rabbit fur that's been dyed to match her pale blonde hair, and skims a hand through it's lush growth -- having to adjust the half-mask to keep it in place as she laughs.

Aureth returns to his seat at the table, crossing his ankles in his shiny romper. "You know," he false-stage-whispers, "I don't think she grew that herself."

"A moustache and beard like someone sheared a small, woodland creature. So full - so lush," Malcolm compliments the rabbit-fur beard.

The line has been dismissed by Acantha.

Khanne pouts. "Poor rabbit...they should be loved and imitated."



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