milliways_bar | (no subject)

There's a lot of gold in there. Silk grins. 'Arends are nobles. The commissions are from the Mimbrates - they wear armour constantly and their brains are in their muscles. They have to be, otherwise they fall over a lot.'

He waves a rat over. 'I know the King there and have friends. They accept my word that the stuff is what I say it is...' Which is rather stupid of them, but they were lucky in this case. Silk isn't always so truthful. '...because once they thrust me then they would never insult me by doubting my claims. Therefore - payment in advance. Enough to cover the metal itself at least, we'll hit them with the final bill once the work is done.'

Gimli nods. "Fair enough. I daresay we might keep them eager by presenting some part of the work for inspection as I finish the full set. The timing I leave to you, of course, but it is a thing we dwarves have found- no matter how great a man's trust in another, he nonetheless likes to see some measure of what he's paid for ere the end. Have you some idea of the measurements I must work to?"

He pulls some paper from his doublet. 'All written down for you Gimli. No sense in having there be mistakes.'

He hands it over and slouches again. 'No real rush - its Erastide where I'm from and most people are celebrating. And honestly, Arends are unfailingly patient.'

And extremely slow of thinking too, but generally nice for all that.

Gimli nods. "I'd not rush it anyway," he says, tucking the notes away. "It's ill luck to rush a smith- ill luck for the one who wears the armour, anyway. They'll have their work done and done well." Then he pauses. "Erastide?"

He nods. 'I don't understand the work obviously, but the sentiments are true for most jobs I find.'

Silk, for example, is very careful when he's out spying, swindling and assassinating people. Kind of have to be.

He neglects to add that though and simply nods. 'Erastide is the mid-winter festival on my world. Garion's birthday too and I'd hoped to see him here as I can't get to Riva for the day itself. No matter though. Is there nothing similar where you're from?'

Details, details.

"There's the Yule holiday," Gimli says. "The sort of thing that entails hunts and roasting large animals, and gathering all the clan members together for great fires and feasting. I take it it's something like that?"

He laughs. 'Yes, that sounds similar. My friend Barak would approve of the hint, he likes to spend winter days in forests sticking poles in large pigs. I prefer a nice game of dice by the fire but I get dragged along on occasion.'

He waves a rat over to get more ale. 'Fires and feasting, yes. Will you do something similar here?'

"In all likelihood, aye," Gimli says. "My old clan used to light the greatest fire they could at sundown on the night before Yule, and then someone would have to tend it until sundown of Yule itself. We'd gather about to keep them company. I haven't any dwarves here, but I expect I could drum up a few compatriots in such a fashion- especially since there'd be food and beer about."

Because, c'mon, big fire and no food and no beer? You must be joking.

Obviously! Food and beer are imperative!

'Was that a tradition of some sort? Or just something that everyone does at Yule on your world? It sounds like fun, if rather cold.'

"It's a tradition of the Dwarves," Gimli says. "The hobbits and Men have customs of their own, of course. The hobbits eat- and you've never seen a feast until you've seen one set by hobbits- and there's quite a great deal of singing. The men aren't much different, though they've usually got stories to tell more than sitting about waiting for the next dish."

'A hobbit.' He muses. 'I've never seen one of them. Erastide has feasts also, of course - food seems to be the thing everyone has in common. But drinking is more what I look forward to - there's nothing really like being with a large group of friends and sampling ale all night.'

Silk's an Alorn. He can drink like a champion. His singing tends to be rather off key though, much to the amusement of everyone who's treated to a listen. Which is...everyone in the area, once he gets going.

'It sounds like a fun tradition you have. I enjoy the holidays, its nice to celebrate.'

Gimli smiles. "I'd not expect you to've seen them. They're folk of my world- halflings, they're also called- and not, apparently, anywhere else. Good, solid fellows, though." He shakes his head before saying, "A Yuletide spent with proper ale will be a wonder, for me. These past nine years I've been among the Elves of the Blessed Realm. Crafters, singers, warriors, one and all, but they can't make a proper beer to save their lives."

Silk immediately feigns horror - although he might not be kidding around. 'No decent ale? Gods, Gimli, how did you manage?'

He sounds horrified. But does ask, in a slightly more serious tone, 'I've never seen an elf either. But why have you been with them?'