Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"Ah. Very well," responded the Thimeyran as he grabbed a ladle and a kettle that was presently not hanging over the kitchen fireplace, before making his way over to a nearby barrel. He set down the kettle, ladle within, and placed the cups close by. Those who were presently working in the kitchen seemed to pay him no mind, clearly not strangers to the elf's visits, though the presence of Evisa, Natalie and Beshayir did earn a few curious murmurs.

In short order the elf scooped a decent amount of water, filling the kettle most of the way before returning the lids to both it and the barrel, handing the cups to Natalie before leading the way back up to the attic.

[C S]

Given something to busy her hands, Natalie felt some relief for her nerves. While she hadn't yet fully made up her mind about what was in store for her, she felt better carrying something, as Beshayir and Evisa did. A small comfort in not being the odd one out among them.

[The Kingpin]

With their supplies in hand, the trio made their way back up to the attic where they would not be disturbed. Beshayir observed that the Storyteller seemed not to like being in the company of crowds. Perhaps that was why he gravitated to the profession of a lorekeeper rather than a trader.

The elder set down the kettle on the table and instructed Beshayir to do the same with the qahwa. In relative silence, he unravelled the top of the package and took one of the cups from Natalie to gauge how much qahwa to place in the kettle. Once satisfied, he turned to Beshayir and Evisa. "Now we need only heat and stir it until the smell is strong enough to fill the room."

Beshayir glanced at the viking, her brows furrowing slightly as she made her thoughts heard; "I have prepared qahwa before. Do you want to try it, Evisa?"

[C S]

Evisa hummed contemplatively and placed a hand where her chin would be, had she not been wearing her bladed helm. "Heat and stir?" she repeated, glancing between the two elves. Natalie cocked her head, wondering what about the task could possibly be giving the viking any pause.

"It seems simple enough," Natalie broached, though she was careful to regulate her tone with her choice of words. The last thing she wanted to come off as was patronizing.

"Stirring is easy enough. Keeping a reasonable heat is... less so. I'm more used to hitting things and having them burn, or, more likely in this case, melt."

"Ah," Natalie replied in a more subdued manner. If something was worth doing, Evisa was the type to overdo it. To the point that dialing back was unfamiliar territory. "I think mister Faruq would rather have future use of his kettle though, right?"

"I'd agree with this," Evisa said with a decisive nod. At that point, she looked down to Beshayir and continued, "Thanks for the offer, but let's play it safe this time around, yeah?"

[The Kingpin]

The young elf nodded slowly, understanding the viking's reservations. Looking at her palms, she curled her fingers into them, forming up her fists as a flow of blue wove under the skin, as though following the path of her veins, steam rising from them moments later as the heat mingled with the fairly chilly air let in by the open window.

"A Thimeyran saying goes that 'Friends who cooperate will never fail.' If you are interested, Evisa, there is still a way you could contribute to it," offered Faruq to the viking. "Heating a kettle with actual fire on a wooden table is ill advised, and I'm not exactly as strong as I was in my soldiering days. Holding up a kettle full of water for the time it'll take to boil would be a task best suited to one better trained for such tasks of endurance, I think. I can take care of the stirring... Unless you would like to do it, Natalie?"

[C S]

Natalie looked to Evisa momentarily before she replied, "Why leave work for my senior when I have the fleeting stamina of youth at my disposal?" The weighty pat of Evisa's scale-clad gloves on a shoulder was her reward, the unexpected contact making her stiffen and suck in air as a stifled gasp. It dawned on her thereafter that she was not in any immediate danger, but she could not take back those choice split-seconds that led to the gradual flushing of her cheeks.

If Evisa noticed, she made no show of it as she took the kettle by its handle and assumed a casual stance, her other hand placed on her waist as she began to whistle a wayward, meandering tune.

[The Kingpin]

"You make it sound as if I were a decrepit relic of some bygone age," responded Faruq in mock offence. "The trick is to wait until you can feel the steam of the water, and then start stirring in cross-shapes. A figure eight, if you will. It will keep the water circulating unevenly so that the qahwa dissolves completely."

Beshayir kneeled beside Evisa, her hands reaching forward to either side of the kettle rather than below it. A dim orange glow seemed to materialise in her palms, the heat making the air dance around the kettle as she gradually heated it, ensuring that the heating was even throughout. It wasn't strictly necessary for this particular variety of qahwa, but it was clear from Faruq's description that he was trying to teach them some of the techniques needed for the traditional form of the drink. She reasoned it was probably in case he ever thought to bring some of that over from Thimeyra for occasions.

[C S]

Natalie took up her spoon and heeded the Storyteller's instructions. Evisa's whistling became something of a gauge to track the progression of the boiling, as it picked up in tempo with the formation of bubbles inside the kettle. In much the same way one would carry on watching paint dry, Evisa reactions to any minute change was a faithful metric to go by until the waves of heat gave way to rising vapors. Natalie acted from anticipation, but with dainty restraint, dipping the spoon in without another moment's delay and turning her wrist to stir in the figure eights. By some compulsion she was not fully aware of, she too began to whistle. The two songs were a staccato, and there was no effort to harmonize between the two women.

[The Kingpin]

The two elves looked at eachother, taken by surprise by the development, though that momentary lapse in focus was soon rectified when Beshayir felt her control of the flames slipping. It was a brief, nigh imperceptible slip, though she had no doubt that Evisa would probably notice it. Well, assuming she was sharper at noticing subtle shifts in the flow of fire than she was in doling it out.

Whether or not Faruq noticed it, he didn't say. Instead, he set a hand on Beshayir's shoulder. "I think it's about ready," he said, noting the earthy aroma filling the room and the thick plumes of steam rising from the kettle. Beshayir's hands dimmed as the shimmering heat of her magic dissipated, and she backed away to give the older Thimeyran more room. He gestured towards the table. "You can set it down now. I don't think we need to worry about starting a fire. The qahwa will need to rest for a bit longer."

[C S]

Evisa's concealed gaze shifted between the kettle and the pail at her side. There was a strong urge for her to place her other hand underneath the base to sate a newfound impulse, to quantify what true magic-borne fire felt like. She had a suspicion that Beshayir's flame was intrinsically different than, say, standing in the presence of a living ember, but she could not properly test this hunch. Not at that moment, with both her hands occupied. As if to demonstrate what her dilemma was in relation to her inner monologue, Evisa raised the pail so that it hung from its handle alongside the kettle, regarding them both almost appraisingly. She then nodded her head and went to the table without a word.

Natalie's eyes went to the spoon in her hand, one brow arched. She wondered what it was that Evisa had gleaned from the ordinary utilities, and was at a loss as to how she would go about discovering this enigma. Evisa carried on her own all the while, setting down the pail so that she could test the temperature of the kettle. It retained a deceptive warmth, for all the freshly boiled brew it contained. It stood to reason that this was due to the kettle's design -- for it was a kettle and this was what they were made to do -- though Evisa held onto the inconclusive notion that there was something distinctly magical about the qahwa. Something in the way the child's fire had flickered, and licked the rim of the kettle in that distracted instant.

[The Kingpin]

"Something the matter, Evisa? You seem...distracted," noted Faruq, a brow raised in curiosity as he noted the viking's mannerisms.

Beshayir was too preoccupied with recirculating excess mana as a warm-up of sorts for the coming classes, so the question came as a bit of a surprise. What had Evisa done that she had missed?

[C S]

"I'm all here," Evisa responded with prompt and paradoxical keenness. The viking's answer came readily, yet her voice maintained an introspective, almost mumbling quality to it that could not be attributed to her helmet. All that was missing was a finger tapping on the woman's chin to complete the image of contemplation. A visage that would remain incomplete, as Evisa turned back to the others and casually rested against the edge of the table.

[The Kingpin]

Faruq's expression had shifted from curiosity to skepticism in that moment, though he said nothing more on the matter. It was only a short moment longer before he lined up the small cups and served the drink, which came forth a very dark brown with a lighter foam. He made a point of not filling two of them completely, to leave room for the cream Evisa brought with her. He served his own cup as he would normally, and then glanced at Beshayir, who shook her head. With a measure of disappointment, the Storyteller partially filled the fourth cup, before setting the kettle down. And with that, he gestured for the others to help themselves.

[C S]

Although it hadn't been too long at all since she first saw the Thimeyran cups, Evisa's opinion of them was swayed from her underwhelming first impression. Her low esteem wasn't for their lack of quality; the cups were dainty and ornate, the surface bright with a reflective pale polish that highlighted the vibrant geometric bands that decorated the base and lip of the cup. They were beautiful works of art on top of their function, however in Evisa's eyes, they left something to be desired when pitted against a deep wooden mug fashioned to appear as a cask with a handle.

She had kept those unsightly sentiments to herself, and now that she was adding milk to her drink with the spoon that stirred the kettle, she was glad that she had. Doing the same with a viking mug would have been tedium to surpass any other. What was more likely to happen was someone dipping the whole thing into the pail to get a partial fill, before pouring in the qahwa straight from the kettle and then swirling to mix.

Evisa had no qualms with this alternative, but for the sake of partaking in another's tradition, albeit with a twist as is, she dolloped milk into her petite cup. She appreciated that because of its small size, it only took a few spoonfuls for the earthy hue of the qahwa to lighten into a more sandy appearance. After handing the spoon off to Natalie, the verger had her drink prepared in suitable short order as well.

"I motion for a toast," Evisa said.

"For what occasion?" Natalie wondered.

"So that we all drink at the same time, and no one backs out at the last moment," Evisa replied thusly.

"Oh."

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir carefully added the cream to her own cup, not wanting to overwhelm the drink with the addition. She noted that Faruq was watching. He would not speak out against something so minor as a corruption of a traditional drink, but it was clear that he felt she was wasting an otherwise excellent brew.

The pyromantic apprentice however shared no such opinion. In her eyes, everything was subject to improvement, and, following Septimus and Syria's example, qahwa was no exception.

It was no surprise then, that her drink was soon a significantly paler shade, though perhaps not quite as much as the other two ladies' drinks.

"I... would be careful about drinking that the way people would usually do in a 'toast'. It's a good way to burn one's tongue," warned Faruq hesitantly, seeing a potential disaster in the making.

[C S]

Natalie peered down at her cup and saw confirmation of the elf's caution in the form of the pale vapors sinuously melding with the cooler air in the room. The sight had a bewitching quality as to amplify the sensation of the heat at her fingertips, and the brunt aroma entering her nostrils. Natalie attributed this to the anticipation making marionette strings of her nerves. "It would be better for us to take a sip in unison," she agreed.

Evisa grunted approvingly, and proceeded to slip her helmet off of her head with her free hand. It was apparent that she did not intend to be without it for long, for Evisa did not set the helmet down on the table. Rather, she palmed it and braced it against her side while her aurulent went free, suspended by ethereal breeze.

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir nodded, looking up at the older elf. "Will you join us?" she asked.

To that, Faruq lifted his cup. "To Brodudika," he stated, "and to new beginnings." There was a moment in which his gaze settled on the verger, a small smile disappearing behind his cup...

[C S]

The moment of truth came with the raising of the cups, and it was gone just as quickly with their lowering. All the pent up excitement came to a head in a few, inconclusive seconds. Inconclusive for the two that were complete strangers to qahwa, to be exact.

Natalie's heightened alertness from overactive worry allowed her to appreciate the smell of the desert drink and the dairy as she drank, which certainly impacted how she perceived the taste. The milk was unexpectedly complimentary despite being distinctly unique in the mix, a more gentle stimulus to offset the heavy, bitterness on Natalie's palette. She couldn't say that she picked up on a flavor per se, but she definitely felt dry as the heat began to spread through her core. Suitably arid. And yet she was compelled to keep drinking to partake of the full taste. Perhaps this was why the servings were so small?

While Natalie pondered this, Evisa's face was unreadable as she processed her own reaction. Unlike Natalie, who held her cup in both hands with a mild wonderment upon her countenance, Evisa did not hesitate to take another sip. Then one more, for good measure, though to what end no one among the other three could determine. At that point, it was up to Beshayir to voice what she thought of the combination.

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir sipped a very small amount of her drink to begin with, unsure how it would taste initially. Her tongue clicked a few times as she tested the texture of the drink, before taking another sip. "It's... surprisingly nice," she said, looking up at the older Thimeyran as she smiled. "The taste isn't quite as strong... but the texture is nice."

"Is it not too... heavy? Thick?" asked Faruq, showing a momentary lapse in his knowledge of his chosen tongue.

Beshayir's brow creased briefly in thought, considering how to describe it to him. After a moment, she settled on a response. "Not really. It's thicker than normal qahwa, obviously... But not nearly as thick as the libna we have back home. And it complements the taste nicely."

[C S]

"Libna?" Natalie inquired, feeling misplaced in the conversation. Without a benchmark for what qahwa was, with or without milk, descriptions of any other Thimeyran drink would inevitably go right past her head. Still, curiosity beckoned her to ask regardless. Conversely, Evisa continued to quietly down her qahwa. Each sip drew a little more than the last as she stared at a patch of wall with an unusual steeliness, an effort to find something that she herself did not know.