MEETUP: Free Riverside Cafe

In the shadow of the great Highbridge, and beneath the guardhouses, a stretch of river has been laid out as a public park and fishing area. Here, the descending landscape of Alexandria folds into the river and crafts a comfortable view. On a typical day, a number of small boats and picnic blankets dot the landscape. To the side, a small shrine to Rada the River Serpent, as well as a dual shrine to Althea and Daeus, in their guise as Mother and Father of the world.

Tonight, part of the riverside has been set up into a curious little cafe. Barrels have been set up with small stools as tables down the bank, with candles providing light. A small kitchen has been set up a bit up from the tables in the form of a series of small iron stoves set up on a plinth made from paver stones; priests of Althea and other faiths cook and carry food down to the tables where a number of poor and indigent citizens of many different species enjoy what is a simple but delicious dinner.

Joining the nearby shrines of Althea and Daeus is another shrine, this one dedicated to Reos. It stands on mechanical spider legs in what is best described as a gazebo of steel and brass. Priests are standing by these shrines to receive donations.

Noticing odd activity near the river, Amythyst swims up to the bank and watches for a couple of minutes. Yeah, she's in the river...or on a rock in the river......

The riverside is strung with tall torches and full of activity, at least in Fazahd's zone of influence; the shrines of Althea, Daeus and Reos all look over the little festival that's in full swing by the rushing waters. As they come in, the poor and indigent are greeted by priests in the blue of Althea, and a cluster of people in the red tunics and gray trousers of Reosian acolytes are busy giving out parcels of blankets and simple clothes to them as they enter. Once these gifts are made, they are ushered down to the many 'tables' set up along the water. The kitchen, too, is quite busy, with large cauldrons of soup and racks of roasting meat slowly cooking over hearthfires burning in portable stoves. Someone's got quite a to-do going, and that person is Fazahd.

Food?

Nothing like a kitchen to bring Sandy to the shore. She's here, of course. Well, just /arriving/, anyway, and looking not exactly thrilled so far. Her arm has probably been twisted. At least a little.

Fazahd, for his part, is overseeing the acolytes as they give out clothes and - apparently - wait tables. They're all very good at it. As if they were trained from birth, really. And, of course, very deferential to Fazahd as he directs them.

It wasn't long before Jacob heard of this gathering, and as such, he decided to come down and support the efforts of those who would be serving. Of course the hunger was a factor, and the fact that he had coin to spend toward a worthy cause wasn't too bad of a reason either. So he picked a table, and sat, and gave Fazahd a nod once he saw him.

Fazahd departs from the knot of acolytes, heading toward Sandy. Still bald, still clean-shaven, still eight shades of a grump. "Lady Sandiel," he calls, on the approach. "I am surprised to find you here."

"It iss for. Charity," the sith is replying happily. A warm, golden glow suffuses the reptile, which is at odds with Svarshan's--yes, reptileness. He clasps Sandy's shoulder as he comes up. Then, gives a thump of the tail towards the priests and priestesses he recognizes, and begins heading TO SAFETY.

Yep. For Charity(tm). Well, there are donation bowls, but not everyone is going in that direction. Everyone, however, is taking up tables. Food is being brought down, plates with bread and meat and bowls of soup - but not too much at a time, to ensure that those who haven't eaten in some time don't stuff themselves sick.

"Yes, I know that." Sandy is being guided towards FAzahd by Svarshan and she is looking less than thrilled, but well, she's here and there's food. She will eat the food. ALL THE FOOD.

Ranik watches as more people show up. He takes his now empty tray back to the cooks, and heads over to one of the donation bowls, wherein he puts a handful of coins. He smiles at the others, and heads over to Jacob.

"I am surprised to find you here," Fazahd repeats, frowning in Sandy's direction. "But I am pleased that you have. Donation bowls are over there." He points. Donations before food for moneyed people, by the gods.

"Peasse to you," he's saying. Svarshan escapes in the most valiant of ways, as he steps up towards one of the old Daeusite Sunguards. The two fall into conversation, before turning towards the donation bowls, once Fazahd indicates. But, they look to talk a while longer.

"Yeah, I'll donate," grumbles Sandy, giving Svarshan a dirty look. "and why surprised? Altheans try to twist my arms for all sorts of things." And then Svarshan is glared at again. He may not be Althean but he was clearly acting in their stead and leaving her a very unhappy purple haired elf.

At length, Svarshan clasps arm and arm with the Sunguard. The reptile wears Am'shere's finest, the colors of his Empress as well as the Father Dragon. There's a trace of red along it--old blood and old stains, though well-cleaned and cared for. A working paladin, then, and one given the dirtier jobs. The two exchange a few more words, before heading towards the donation boxes together.

Amythyst steps out of the water and walks over towards the stands and chuckles. "ah....for charity." She says as she looks about at all of the food. "Strange though. This is for people....inside of the city, right?"

Before he manages to get where he's going, Ranik meets a former girlfriend, a young priestess of Eluna who had heard about this, and came to help out, too. The pair talk awkwardly for a bit.

The light and sound at the riverbank after dark draw Aya down from the bridgeway above. She may not be a huge proponent of charity, curiosity works as a draw just as well.

Up the bank, a small group of people arrive and descend toward an area of the grounds near the kitchen. They carry instruments - a delegation from the bardic college, perhaps, who switfly take places and begin to play lively tunes for the crowd.

The Sunguard and Sunblade continue to converse. Svarshan reaches into his cloak and pauses for a moment. "Sssa. I had heard of Grat." The words fade, or are overcome by the drop of something heavy into the bucket. Thunk, thump. "He wass one of the..."

"Heroes of Dran, yes." The Sunguard bobs his head.

You paged Hurricane with 'Okay! Thank you very much.'

For a moment he decides to sit there, taking in the growing atmosphere. Then Jacob stood and made for the actual food, dropping a donation in the bucket as he did so. "Ah, Fazahd! I figured I would stop by and have a bite. Most fascinating conversation we had earlier!"

As Sandy and company drift off to the donation boxes, Fazahd turns as he is called. "Ah, hello, brother," he calls in reply, lifting a hand in hail. "Have you come to dine, or to volunteer? The Father tells me that it will be both!" He's almost cheery. You wouldn't know from that face, but he SOUNDS spirited enough.

And sure enough, Jacob can tell for certain. "Both, I wager! Once I've sampled some perhaps I can serve some. I think we can agree that's a happy medium." He glanced toward the departing elf... and the new arrival. "This is becoming quite the event. You just thought of it recently?"

Amythyst walks over towards Fazahd and tilts her head. "This is....for people in the city that can't help themselves?"

A pause, then a longer one. Svarshan adds something under his breath. Whatever he says causes the Sunguard to cough once, but then to look reflective.

"Would they had better heroes," he says at length. Then, he points towards the tables again. After another pause, the 'makar follows. They do so slowly, and were one to glance over, it has all the look of a friendly, social stroll towards the tables. A closer look though, shows a faint line to muscle, an alertness beneath the sleepy exterior. Just you know, low-key. "They ssay he iss a more true hero than. Arendt. ..." the sith-makar continues as they go.

"It's been in the planning for a bit," Fazahd calls back to Jacob. "Go on, enjoy yourself!" And then there's Amythyst, who looks at him with those big, blue eyes. He frowns again. "Yes," he says. "You may sit at a table and be served."

Aya spies, among other things, the great contraption in honor of Reos and its maintainer, the Sunblade, and the wonderfully pleasant, purple-haried sil. Of the four, its Fazahd she approaches. "This is quite the... whatever this is supposed to be."

Jacob felt the need to pitch in. "Always good to meet someone new! Name's Jacob." He smiled at the sildanyari. "And yours, miss?"

Amythyst makes a bit of a face and shrugs. "mmmm....." She says as she looks about....and looks about for some fish to eat, or maybe something new to try.

"...grat," grumbles Sandy under her breath. Then she kicks Svar in the shin since she's still close to him after dropping some coinage in the donation box. She's still annoyed. Still greatly annoyed, that is, and turn hr gaze on Fazahd again. "You seem to be doing better, anyhow."

Jacob blinked. "Hmm... was it something I said?"

Aha. An Aya. Fazahd expected this, and so he does not jump or inwardly groan as the woman approaches. "A -charity- dinner," he answers her, drawing out the word. "If you're hungry, you may feel free to make a small donation and go to sit at one of the tables. I'll have someone bring you something to eat - It's good to see you, by the by." And then Sandy. "Nothing resolves focus like a purpose, Sandiel." Mind you, he's still shaved bald and beardless.

"It would not take much." A quirk at the Sunguard's mouth shows his amusement. It only quirks UP when Sandy kicks the reptile in the shin.

"Ow," Said reptile replies. Then wryly, "Your wife requessted." Then, as Aya turns in, he goes quiet a while.

"Ah," Aya nods to Fazahd. "I should have guessed. I'm not hungry, at the moment, but I am curious." She glances out to the tables and the guests there. "You've drawn quite a gathering of... interesting people."

Svarshan clasps the priest's shoulder and leans down, exchanges a few words. Then, "I will go and. Walk a while," he says warmly. "There are fasses I recognize."

The Sunguard he's with nods, before turning himself, and lifting one of the drinks and an associated napkin. "I'll find us a seat, then. Take your time, I--oh! Hearthguard Clarise! How goes the--you were having some paperwork troubles with the adoption?"

"Well," says Fazahd, nodding down at the assembled tables, "It turns out that you don't have to be a beggar to want free food. Though if you aren't needy, you don't eat for free. That's the whole point of charity - the moneyed give, the poor receieve. The poor end up being the foundation upon which the moneyed stand, as you no doubt know. Either way, yes. Interesting people. Good souls, though. Like yours."

When Fazahd speaks, Sandy's eyebrow goes up, but she doesn't immediately coment. Instead, she bumps Svarshan with her hip and nods towards him as well. "All right," she makes a face at him, then turns her gaze to look over the gathered. seems she's decided its her turn to keep an eye on the donation box.

Jacob shrugged and turned his attention back toward the conversation at hand. "No truer words. But do forgive my rudeness... your name, miss?"

Amythyst puts a couple of coins in the donation jar....but then she sits down...still dripping wet and she looks at some of the food. "Hmmm....may as well try some of the meat."

"Paperwork!" the Hearthguard rolls her eyes, but it's in a kindly way. "You'd say that, wouln't you. Well, come on then. Have a seat!"

The Sunguard who'd been walking with Svarshan grins, and takes a chair. The reptile though, heads on his way after the hip-bump. He does as he says he would, and is going about, talking and exchanging words here and there with people he knows.

Aya dips her chin to Fazahd in understanding, and notes Amythyst as one of the other familiar faces. "Yes, they're certainly interesting." Two others are also known, but they're not directly acknowledged at this point.

Right. Time to sit down again. "A pleasure once again, brother." He nodded toward... Aya, was it? Yes. And then Jacob headed off to get more food. Because food!

Amythyst waves to Aya as she spot her, finally. Clearly Amythyst takes a little while to notice things.

"So." Fazahd looks at the crowd, then Aya. "It's going to be very awkward if all we do is stand around being mysterious and jousting. Why don't you let me get you a drink?"

Sandy sticks her tongue out at Svarshan petulantly as he makes his way away to do what he said he'd do. Still, Sandy is keeping an eye on the donation box, while encouraging, with a big toothy smile, anyone who gets too close to donate. "You there," she tells one passer by, "You should donate. You know. Because you're enjoying the food." She is VERY SUBTLE, our Sandy.

The music, bright and silver, drifts through to fill the long pause between poses. The poor are happy. For onece.

"...and the--" the words get cut off as a busboy brushes by. Svarshan grins at the older, wizened female softskin in front of him, and the two resume their conversation. They draw near, then past a few of the tables. And well, Jacob, Aya, and Fazahd.

Ranik finally finds an available chair and sits down and starts to eat.

"I'd welcome a drink," Aya accepts Fazahd's offer and his point with a hint of uneven smile. "Thank you. Though I didn't realize that we were jousting mysteriously." Neither did she realize that Jacob was in the immediate vicinity until he steps off, though he isn't know to her, regardless.

"I am ssurprised to see a. Faithful of Taara here," Svarshan says, warmly conversational as they draw past. The elder softskin woman stops, her eyes widening for a moment before looking towards Aya's face, as though committing her to memory. The sith-makar nudges her, and they head towards the Sunguard they'd spoken with earlier.

Fazahd frowns faintly as Svarshan speaks. "All are welcome tonight," he says leadenly, and patting Aya's arm gently goes off to get the drinks.

Ranik stands again with a drink in hand and walks up to Jacob. Smiling, he reaches out a hand and says, "So, I know you're a Navosite priest, but what's your name?"

Jacob glanced up from his plate for a moment, before his eyes went wide. "Ah, yes! We did speak earlier. I do hope I wasn't being too... awkward I think, is the term." He stood and shook the man's hand. "Jacob."

Fazahd collects two wooden mugs of sweet water from a barrel - what, you thought there'd be wine? - and marches back in Aya's direction. He looks...grim, though he hands her a mug. "It's interesting how people make assumptions," he says. "Don't you think?"

Aya is ..evaluated, then patted, but the patter is also bringing drinks, so that is some consolation. A white brow arches at the bright lizard. "I think that you ..." Conveniently, Fazahd returns, and with the words off the top of her head. A full half-smile forms as she looks to Fazahd. "Interesting, yes. Surprising, no." The smile remains as she looks back to Svarshan. "But it's alright. I won't hold it against you."

Aya's response to Svarshan has Sandy quirking an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes thereafter. Still hanging by the doantion box for her part, she's asked someone to bring her some food. They did. Mostly because, well, she asked and shes not exactly without a rather commanding presence herself. "...damn it, where IS Myrana? She said she'd be here."

"That would be a thing with which I am -entirely- familiar." Fazahd looks Aya up and down. "Do you have a vocation?"

Amythyst is munching on a bit of meat before she walks over to Svarshan and pokes at his scales. "huh. I always thought dragon had harder scales...."

Jacob sat again, inviting Ranik to do so as well. "Myrddion. More specifically, a modest city on the edge of Isobar. Nothing special about it."

"Assumptions or not, I will be guarding the food and. Drinkss. ...peasse to you," the paladin returns kindly. Though, it's the sort of kindness that says: I am here, and those here will be safe. Svarshan touches the robe of the woman next to him, and offers a thump of the tail to Amythyst. They move back off into the crowd, though the patterns earlier are a little more obvious.

"Paladin." Fazahd's voice is hard again. "You are being rude." The priest is not screwing around - though Svarshan might not hear him, as he's heading off. He shakes his head, looking back to Aya.

"Just doing his job, Fazahd," says Sandy to the dwarven cleric, supporting Svarshan, bluntly. "There's a reason the edict allowing the open worship of the Dark Gods was rescinded some years ago." She rub the side of her face. "Paladins will do what they must. It's their nature."

"And so are you, Sandiel." Man, Fazahd is just on a -tear- tonight. "I will not allow guests here to be maligned due to their race or any assumptions made thanks to that." He draws himself up a bit, his chest full. "I'd like to point out that there are -many- around here who've done questionable things, and have -no- assumptions made of them based on their look, or their reputations." Steely eyes on Sandy now. Somebody knows something. SOMETHING.

"If it was rescinded because followers were caught pilfering random charity boxes," Aya postulates, "I don't think the so-called dark gods would have objected. Who would want to be associated with fools?" A light laugh follows as she takes her cup from Fazahd, only now discovering that it's only water. The laugh ends. "I should've known."

"Not rasse. Fazahd." The sith goes quiet a while, not pushing, not--doing anything. His response radiates a kind of calm, a kindness in its auras and stature. A warm bolstering. His words are kind, and quiet. And sad--a direct look to the man that says so clearly: I know something you don't. The look towards Aya is sad as well...if not more sorrowful. In it, Daeus' reminder of when his own brother has gone astray. For a moment, the feeling is PALPABLE.

Amythyst chuckles as she shakes her head, but she does put in a gold into the donation jar and makes her way back to the water. She doesn't mind charity, and she did get a sort of trade out of it. She sits at the edge of the water though. No cramping.

"Hardly race," says Sandy to Fazahd, "Just prior interaction has left a wee bit of distrust given prioer behavior. A paldin would not act as such for no reason. And there's no /alcohol/?" She is devestated briefly. "I personally had quite the disagreemtn with her over Charnish enslaving of the Sith-makar peoples." She looks crestfallen down ath er own drink. NO ALCOHOL. Aya is glared at. Then down again. At her drink. Noooooo. Curse you, Fazahd!11

"We have disagreements over the virtue of charity," Fazahd replies smoothly. "But her heart is good. I see it easily." He flicks a glance to Aya. "I'm sorry. An insistence of the Althean temple. I'll buy you a proper drink later, eh?"

Jacob sat again, inviting Ranik to do so as well. "Myrddion. More specifically, a modest city on the edge of Isobar. Nothing special about it."

Ranik nods, "That's cool. I've never made it over there before. I'm from here, myself. The family estate is just north, along the Eldwyn road. We have a winery there."

Jacob smiled. Countryman then. Fate was a strange thing. "I should love to visit. So then, to other things! There is much that the Raven and the Huntress share, yes?"

"We agree to disagree on more and more," Aya confirms, probably for Fazahd's benefit. Her shoulders roll lightly. "As we should, no?" She keeps her eyes on Sandy and Svarshan. "Only the meek and mindless hold no opinions of their own.. And, yes," Aya looks to Faxahd, "we could certainly use wine. See?" Back to Sandy. "Something we agree upon."

"Civility now, wine later. This is my party, after all." It's my party, you'll stay dry if I want you to. Fazahd gives the two women a tight smile. "Who wants to see me play a flute very badly?"

Ranik looks up as the subject of wine is bantied about. Responding to Jacob, he says, "Oh yes. I imagine so. Perhaps you and I could discuss those similarities sometime over a couple bottles of my family's private reserve?"

Jacob chuckled. "True enough. Still..." He turned toward Aya. "She's rather interesting, no? I do enjoy it when people have discourse like that. Aggresive? Hardly. Spirited debate, definitely."

The sith-makar looks over with the same sadness, but stays as he is, in the background and...doing his job. Occasionally, he stops to talk with Sunblades, or Hearthguards, or this and that other folk. People he recognizes and knows, or would like to.

Moving towards Svarshan, Sandy lays a hand on him, to his forearm. She seems concerned for him. She reaches up to grab his chin with one hand and pull him down to whisper something into his earhole.

Aya takes a sip from her not-wine, tentatively, but finds it acceptable. "It isn't on my list of life goals, but I could stomach bad flute playing for a time. Not long, but for a time." Just as the others stepped back from their ...civil discussion, she, too moves to find a seat for the evening entertainment.

"That's all right," Fazahd says with a snort. "I forgot it at the temple. Shall we dance, instead?" Because why not? He has no hair, has no beard, might as well make a further spectacle of himself.

Ranik looks up at the host and says, "That would be something to see. There's something to be said of a man that makes a spectacle of himself without being drunk." He can't seem to wipe a silly grin off his face.

Aya arches a brow at Fazahd's invitation. "Please, go ahead, enjoy yourself." She gestures Fazahd to an open spot of the bank. "If you offer wine later, maybe I will dance, later."

Fazahd makes a soft sound of false desolation. "If you insist," he says with a chuckle, "I shall behave myself." Yes. He chuckled.

Well, if Fazahd won't dance, and Aya won't dance, that doesn't mean the rest won't - and, sure enough, some of the guests are up and dancing on the green. It's odd, really - a combination of peasant dances and the occasionally more refined reel, owing to the very unusual makeup of Alexandria's population, even the homeless. The night is moving on, and it is growing close to midnight. Probably time to start winding down.