Eilstina: turned back to her bloodwine, taking a longer gulp, and keeping it together to avoid making a face.
Zolussa: raises her forefinger as if proclaiming grandly: “This is surely so! Generals are tested to become so, nnn? Tested for wisdom! Courage! Tactical cleverness!”
Wenix: sets a small bowl atop the bar, filled with dried fruit. He motions to Ti’Na
Kalath: “I would not say to trust all of us all the time… Sometimes the tactically wise choice is not the honorable choice. I, at least, try to balance the two.”
Eilstina: examines the fruits, and opts to eat a small handful.
Wenix: Chew a bit of this between sips. Red melith rind. Keeps the palate from rebelling too loudly. An old trick for new warriors.
Zolussa: nods firmly towards Kalath. “Ahhhh, I see! Mmm. Is balanced like good blade, this I think of General Kalath.” She glances towards the fruit, but if she recognizes it, she gives nothing away.
Kalath: “….I think you’re trying to flatter me.” She narrowed her eyes.
Eilstina: quietly sips her bloodwine, it seems she had grown a bit weary of talking.
Zolussa: flicks her hand up as if batting away an insect; she offers a slight smile. “Ahhh, is just Zolussa’s way. Old habit, ah? But! Would not speak it if I did not think it so! Mm-hmm!”
Wenix: inclines his head toward Kalath, tone even but curious beneath the surface. "There’s been a rise in visitors of higher station to the Hearth of late… more officers, more generals… +
Wenix: …
Wenix: … more warriors bearing crests of the great houses. I don’t dare speculate why…." there is a pause
Wenix: But I hope it is for the glory of the Empire, and not some shadow behind the curtain
Kalath: “Mm.” She takes a sip, her eyes silently flicking between the three of them. “Nor do I.” She smirks. “What others have come?”
Zolussa: flicks her gaze to Wenix; perhaps a more attentive gaze than her theatrical air might lead one to expect. She, too, turns quiet, sipping at her empty glass almost demurely.
Eilstina: “My homeworld was…is very primitive, they don’t know what lies beyond the firmament.”
Eilstina: “I was very unhappy, so I would telepathically project as far as I could towards any moving star, one of those turned out to be a klingon vessel.”
Wenix: leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to keep it between those at the bar…
Wenix: I’ve seen sigils from House Martok, House Antaak, and even a few cloaks bearing Korath’s forge-mark. All in the last ten cycles.
Wenix: And one more… an odd sort. one from the old Guard of Kang, believe it or not, Carried himself like a knife held just out of sight. Said nothing. Watched everything.
Eilstina: “Must be long-lived, even by Klingon standards…”
Zolussa: glances up to Ti’Na. “Mmmm. And this is why you are snatched up from such a place, nn?” She purses her lips in thought. “From one hardship to the next, ah.”
Eilstina: “So Wenix, these higher-ups, they ever let slip their intents?”
Zolussa: gestures with her empty glass across the bar. “Ahhh, Wenix is hearing everything, this is sure!” She flashes a wide grin, with that.
Kalath: “Ah, Kang. Yes, one of my house served under Kor in ages long-past.” She nods. “She was among the Mo’Kai which arrived here several years hence.”
Wenix: with a slight chuckle I’m no gossip, Ti’Na. A barkeep hears much, but repeats little.
Wenix: leans in with a grin…
Wenix: That said… tales do circulate. Whispers of fleets mustering, old feuds stirring, names forgotten reappearing on forged blades.
Eilstina: “Hm…troubling.”
Zolussa: likewise leans in with a little ‘ooh!’ at that, listening. She absently preens through her tangled hair with her sharp nails.
Kalath: “Mmm… Whether or not it troubles you depends on your perspective. Our Chancellor has promised a return to glory…”
Wenix: nods at Kalath’s words, expression unreadable for a moment.
Wenix: A return to glory always sounds finer when you’re the one swinging the blade… less so if you’re beneath it.
Zolussa: flashes her wide smile around. “Maybe is so. But!” She jabs a finger upwards. “If Zolussa’s name appears on forged blade, will have first seat off Qo’nos that can be found!”
Kalath: “I would assume that those beneath it would have the good sense to not be here.” She smirked, nodding to Zolussa.
Wenix: If the Chancellor’s path brings honour to the Empire, then this hall stands with them. And I’ll raise a drink to that any night. Wenix rings a bell
Kalath: “As will I.” She nods.
Wenix: | The sharp clang of the bell cuts through the hearth’s hum. Conversations pause. Tankards lift. All eyes turn to the bar.
Zolussa: nods towards Kalath. “Mm-hmm! Fleets, old feuds, returns to glory. These are up high, and Zolussa is too lowly for such - ”
Wenix: raises a quickly filled goblet, voice clear and strong. “To glory earned, not given. To blades drawn with purpose. To the Chancellor, and to the Empire!”
Zolussa: quickly cuts off for the bell, grimacing.
Eilstina: follows the social cue and raises her mug.
Wenix: | A roar of voices rises in reply, Qapla’! is heard as tankards clash, bloodwine spills, and the Hearth of Honour lives up to its name.
Zolussa: raises her empty glass, echoing the call. “Chancellor and - mmm - Empire!” She taps the empty glass down on the bar quickly.
Kalath: roars and raises her mug, her voice throaty as it echoes against the walls. “To the Empire, to Mother!”
Wenix: So… did the Risan spirit earn its keep, or shall I tempt you with something even riskier Zolussa?
Wenix: There’s a bottle here from Ferenginar I only pour on dares… or regrets.
Zolussa: “Ahhh - is easy to resist all but temptation, nnn? This is what they say! But - is probably too rich for Zolussa’s pockets!”
Zolussa: tugs out one of the pockets of her tatty, ragged jacket; empty. She offers a slight shrug.
Wenix: For those with good stories and better charm? A line of credit can be arranged…
Kalath: finishes her mug, and sets it down. “Ah, well. I must return to my duties. The free time of a General is quite limited…”
Wenix: | In the far corner of the Hearth, near the shadowed archway, a towering Gorn stands motionless. Twelve feet of muscle, scales, and patience: Wenix’s quiet insurance against those seeking to leave without settling their debts.
Eilstina: “Until next time, General.”
Zolussa: lets out a quiet chuckle. “Ahhh, this I have done before! First it is drink, drink, drink - then ’polish the bar, Zolussa, clean out the filters, Zolussa! Hhffff!”
Wenix: To duty, to battle, and to the glory that follows! Qapla’, General Kalath!
Zolussa: “Ah! Is honour, General Kalath!”
Wenix: | Tankards lift once more. The hall echoes with voices raised in salute… Qapla’!… as Kalath prepares to depart.
Wenix: pours a careful measure of the Ferengi bottle, sliding it across to Zolussa.
Kalath: “Qapla’, my friend.” She slid a few pieces of latinum to Wenix… not that the gorn bothered her in the slightest, or was even noticed. She was Honor Guard… a single reptile on her planet stood no chance.
Zolussa: looks to the drink, and then to Wenix. “Ahhh, is forced, my hand!” She grins, nevertheless, and then leans on the bar, hopping slightly, to fish down into one of her thigh-highs.
Zolussa: “…maybe is still some latinum in this boot…”
Wenix: inclines his head deeply, accepting the latinum without protest, but with clear understanding. +
Wenix: Qapla’, General. The gesture honours us all. +
Eilstina: fishes a strip of latinum from her purse to pay for Zolussa’s drink.
Wenix: | Around the bar, a few eyes follow the exchange… some curious, others thoughtful. +
Kalath: turned to stride from the Hearth.
Wenix: turns and places the slips into a discreet bronze bowl behind the bar, marked with old etchings: ‘For the Slums of the First City.’
Wenix: Glory shared is glory remembered. Safe paths, General
Zolussa: is caught mid-hop, glancing up to Ti’Na. Her eyes light up appreciatively. “Ahhhh! Is generous Ti’Na!” She tries to regain her dignity and takes up the Ferengi drink.
Zolussa: “Thank you, thank you. Ahh! Is makes such difference, good company, good bartending, ah!”
Eilstina: “Just glad I didn’t have to fight that general…not sure I’d have won.” she added under her breath “Not sure I’d have lost either.”
Wenix: watches the interaction between the two amusingly
Zolussa: smiles between them both. “Ahhh, Zolussa definitely does not win, this is so!” She shrugs carelessly. “But - mm - big General must have better foes than in bars, this I think!”
Eilstina: “one would hope.”
Eilstina: “So, Wenix, tell me about this ferengi drink.”
Wenix: I’m glad too… it’s hard enough getting bloodwine out of the barstools. Bloodstains? Forget it.
Wenix: | A few nearby patrons laugh, the tension having long since turned to camaraderie and comfort beneath the hearthlight.
Zolussa: swats her hand through the air dismissively - but in agreement with Ti’Na, by her smile. “One would, one would. Mmm! Wenix knows all, this I think! Drink and drink, what is drink?”
Wenix: Slug juice. Delicacy on Ferenginar. Pairs surprisingly well after Risan sweetness… if your stomach’s as bold as your charm.
Wenix: | The liquid glistens in the glass, almost daring the curious to try their luck.
Zolussa: lifts the glass to look, swirling it around theatrically in the light for them to look at. “Ahhh, like slug-o-cola, yes. Slimy, see. Maybe with tingly afterbite. We will discover, ah!”
Wenix: Best after something sweet. Helps confuse the tongue so it doesn’t panic. Ferengi drink it to toast long deals and short marriages
Wenix: grins.
Eilstina: “Could I procure a bottle for a…friend?”
Zolussa: beams a wide grin back to Wenix at that. “Ahhh! Now this is toast Zolussa must drink to!” She knocks the glass back, and though she manages it admirably, there’s a hazy look in her eyes afterwards.
Zolussa: “…mmmh. Slimy! Wenix knows his craft, this is very so!”
Wenix: Now that your honour’s been restored with bloodwine, I’d be happy to switch you over. Slug juice goes easier on the pride… and the stomach Ti’Na
Eilstina: finished her tankard of bloodwine, setting it down on the bar with a clank.
Zolussa: “Ah! Is much honour for generous Ti’Na!”
Eilstina: '
Eilstina: “Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth.”
Wenix: sets a squat, dark bottle on the counter, its stopper sealed in gold foil.
Wenix: And if this friend of yours truly exists, they’re welcome to a bottle as well. First one’s only half-price if they drink it in front of me.
Eilstina: “Oh trust me he is very real.”
Eilstina: “Dunno if he’d come all the way to Qo’Nos…though.”
Zolussa: “Ah! This is generous alike, I think. Hmmn. Wenix, how long is - mm - I forget the word. How long is the time you serve in this hall, ah?”
Eilstina: “How much does one of these run?”
Eilstina: rustles up some latinum from her purse.
Wenix: leans on the bar, glancing between the two with a wry smile +
Wenix: Long enough to forget what quiet sounds like. This place and I… we’ve grown into each other.
Eilstina: “I might enjoy running a bar someday.”
Wenix: turns to Ti’Na, eyeing the purse with mock suspicion. “For you? Let’s call it five slips. And I’ll throw in a packet of tube grubs; which pair well”.
Eilstina: “That seems quite generous.”
Zolussa: nods along with Wenix. “Is very good,” she says. “Is - mm - yes. To grow into, like this. Wenix is natural at, mm-hmm.” But she quiets to let the pair continue.
Eilstina: fetches the required amount , neatly lining it up on the bartop.
Wenix: gathers the slips with a nod, sliding them into a small drawer beneath the bar.
Eilstina: stretches. “This form is harder to keep than I expected, one sec…”
Wenix: reaches down and sets a small, wax-wrapped packet next to the bottle.
Eilstina: shapeshifts, clothes too, strangely.
Wenix: | A few patrons nearby chuckle quietly, the kind of laugh reserved for those brave enough to try Ferengi delicacies. They can’t believe Wenix has managed to sell another one of these bundles
Zolussa: looks, and then looks again; she blinks hazily, and then bursts out into a lilting chuckle. “Ahhh! Has changed, now, Ti’Na!”
Eilstina: stuffs the bottle in her purse, it pokes out slightly.
Eilstina: “I thought I could hold my form longer, but I’m still breaking that one in.”
Eilstina: “This one, however, is like an old glove.”
Zolussa: nods along. “Ahh. Mmm. Yes.” She glances up. “But still is very tall! This is how Zolussa can tell!”
Wenix: blinks once, the only sign of surprise, then lets out a low chuckle.
Eilstina: “Yeah I can’t change my height or my proportions much, unlike those fancy goop ones form the gamma quadrant.”
Eilstina: ((From*))
Zolussa: fans her hand through the air breezily. “Ahh, Zolussa cannot change her height or proportions either! Is nothing to be ashamed for!” She lets out a boisterous laugh, too.
Wenix: | Whispers stir. The laughter falters just a moment as eyes glance sidelong. A shapeshifter… not one of the Founders, but still taboo in the Empire’s heart.
Wenix: keeps his tone light, but his gaze sharpens slightly. “Not from the Gamma… but still not a face many here would welcome openly I do say”
Wenix: leans on the bar, speaking loud enough for all to hear “You’ve shown no threat, caused no dishonour. You drink, you pay, you speak plain. That’s enough for the Hearth.”
Wenix: | A few patrons murmur, but none rise. Wenix’s word holds… for now. The fire crackles on, unjudging, but the rumours will now be swirling for days to come.
Eilstina: “I’m hardly the first mimic on Qo’Nos…”
Zolussa: makes a fussing little gesture with her fingers, and lets out a ‘zhh-zhh’ hum alongside. “Ahhh, generous Ti’Na buys drinks for the lowly, ah? This is a charity, I think it!”
Wenix: Aye. You should not be judged for the shape you wear, nor the actions of others who share your gift.
Wenix: But tell me this… will the Academy know? Or are you keeping that truth behind your other form?
Karula: “You, Bartender!”
Eilstina: “They are aware of /most/ of my talents.”
Zolussa: snaps her fingers, pointing towards Wenix with a ’he’s-got-it’ motion. She glances over her shoulder and steps aside gracefully for Karula.
Eilstina: shifts her stance, tensing up.
Wenix: | Their voice cuts through the hum of the Hearth: sharp, commanding, and full of fire. A brash Klingon approaches the bar.
Wenix: turns without flinching, arching a brow with the faintest grin. “That’s Wenix to most… but bartender will do if your thirst speaks louder than your manners. What’ll it be?”
Karula: “I am not here to drink. I seek Brigadier Kalath of house Kuvor. Her ship told me she is here.”
Wenix: folds his arms, posture steady. “Perhaps she was, perhaps not - I am not in the business of giving whereabouts to the unnamed”
Wenix: | The Hearth quiets a notch, conversations lingering, ears now half-turned toward the bar. The fire crackles, steady but watchful.
Karula: glowers at the man. “I am Lieutenant Commander Karula…. of house Kuvor. If my mother is here… I will find her with or without your help.”
Zolussa: glances between Wenix and Karula; even with the haze of drink in her eyes, there’s still something sharp about her. She listens.
Wenix: doesn’t flinch, but the shift in his stance is subtle… respect shown, not surrendered. He notes the Gorn by the door has heard and he need not call him.
Wenix: Then your name carries weight after all. Lieutenant Commander Karula… welcome to the Hearth.
Wenix: Brigadier Kalath departed shortly ago. If you move fast, you may still catch her. If not… there’s always the second tankard she left unfinished.
Wenix: | A few glances pass among nearby patrons… curious, but silent. There is no cheer for mention of House Kuvor now; not while this exchange is ongoing.
Karula: looks at the tankard, before slapping it aside. “I will not drink my mother’s sloppy seconds. My glory is my own, my honor my own, and my bloodwine shall be my own as well.”
Eilstina: just quietly observes not wishing to escalate or aggravate the situation.
Wenix: | The tankard clatters across the floor, spilling what remained of Kalath’s bloodwine. The Hearth goes completely still, the fire’s light flickering off tense shoulders and watchful eyes.
Wenix: doesn’t move to retrieve it. Instead, he nods once… slow and deliberate. +
Wenix: As it should be.
Zolussa: weaves aside - a little too slowly - as if to avoid the already-passed tankard as it clatters. “Mmmh,” she observes quietly.
Wenix: | The tension eases, just slightly. A few nods ripple through the crowd, not in mockery, but in recognition. Wenix turns to fetch a fresh tankard.
Wenix: sets it down clean and full.
Wenix: This one’s yours. Untouched, unclaimed… earned.
Karula: takes the tankard, raising it to the two green women wordlessly, before downing a few gulps. “My…. apologies for the interruption.”
Zolussa: fans a hand blithely through the air. “Is fine, is fine!” She offers a toothy, wide grin; half drunk, it seems. “Would not stand in the way of fresh tankards to hand, mmn!”
Wenix: No interruption at all. The Hearth lives for fire, not silence.
Eilstina: “It is of no bother, Lieutenant.”
Karula: “….Lieutenant Commander.”
Wenix: | The air loosens again, voices return in murmurs and laughter. A few raise their cups in Karula’s direction… in respect.
Zolussa: clicks her fingers, then waggles her forefinger towards Wenix. “Mm, yes, this! Is well-said!”
Eilstina: “Lieutenant Commander, I must have mis heard earlier in the commotion.”
Zolussa: “Ahh, is much bustle, much clamour! Easy to mis-hear, ah? Zolussa always has hair in her ears, too, this is so.”
Wenix: Will you be staying in the First City long, Lt Cdr? Or is this just a brief respite between battles?
Zolussa: lifts up a clump of hair by the side of her head playfully, bundling it in her fist before letting it fall.
Wenix: noticing the silence busies himself polishing a glass
Karula: “That will depend on my ship. I recently claimed it from a peta’q of a captain whose name shall not grace my lips… Our vessel was heavily damaged during the mission. The repairs will likely take several days at least.”
Wenix: nods slowly, expression tightening just a hair at the mention of a dishonoured captain.
Zolussa: “Ahh, is surely to be a mark of honour, this damaging! Mm-hmm. Perhaps repairs will be swift, ah?”
Karula: downs the remainder of her glass. “I should find my mother. Qapla’.”
Wenix: ah, and while you wait… this hall offers fire, bloodwine, and no shortage of fools to test your patience. Should you need any of the three to kill time.
Eilstina: “Until next time, Lieutenant Commander.”
Karula: “I shall keep that in mind. Until next time, then.” She nods, and turns to depart.
Wenix: Then go with strength, Karula of House Kuvor. May your words be clear… and your reunion, your own.
Zolussa: shrugs, and ambles back over to the bar. She rests an elbow on the counter and stoops to fish into her boot once more. “Many such pass through tonight, ah?” She asks amiably; making conversation.
Eilstina: fetches two datachips from her purse, handing one to Zolussa, and another to Wenix.
Eilstina: “My personal Commcode, should you need to contact me.”
Wenix: Such is the way; the Hearth is a meeting place, as much as it is a drinking hall
Wenix: … and there are those who’s interests align with let’s say… the lesser regulated market
Zolussa: takes the chip from Ti’Na with a smile and a nod; she stuffs it into a jacket pocket; the patchy jacket doesn’t seem that trustworthy, but at least it doesn’t fall out.
Wenix: Well the night wears on. I’ll need to vanish to the stockroom shortly: supplies don’t sort themselves, and that Gorn won’t lift a keg unless it’s blocking the door.
Zolussa: “Is so, is so indeed, Wenix, mmmn? But - hhhh. Zolussa’s merchant captain will not appear tonight, this I think.”
Wenix: gestures toward their cups. +
Wenix: Well, if and when she ever does… she might speak with Garrad below us indicates that there is a chamber beneath the Hearth
Wenix: One more round each, if you’ll have it. On the house… for many of us have avoided death this night, and that is always worth drinking to!
Wenix: begins pouring as he offers a final bit of counsel to them both
Zolussa: nods along. She finally plucks out her strip of latinum from down in her boot, and sets it on the bar for Wenix. “This name I know,” she says - then taps the latinum slip gently.
Zolussa: “This is Zolussa’s last, for her new favourite bartender, nnn?”
Wenix: And for your time in the First City… I say walk with purpose, speak with care, and never sit with your back to a door. The rest, you’ll learn fast.
Eilstina: “Thank you Wenix, I hope to come back here again, if circumstances permit.”
Wenix: Good luck with your time in the Academy
Eilstina: “Sounds like I’ll need it.”
Zolussa: smiles her toothy, sly smile. “So it is, so it is,” she agrees amiably; with an experience in her words, perhaps. She offers them both a smile, but holds up her palm to the drink.
Wenix: slides the fresh drinks toward them with a nod, his tone softening just a touch +
Wenix: And if ever the city weighs heavy, this hall will be here. Fire, drink, and ears that don’t judge too quickly.
Wenix: | With that, Wenix vanishes through the door behind the bar, the heavy wood swinging shut on quiet hinges. The warmth of the Hearth lingers, as do the tales.
Zolussa: “Ahhh, so and so, I must go look, nrrr? Ah! Luck to you in the academy also, Generous Ti’Na!”
Eilstina: leans down to whisper something to Zolussa before starting to leave.
Zolussa: looks up to Ti’Na; she offers a smile and inclines her head. “Will try! Have none of my own, ahhh - but this is kept!”
Zolussa: pats her pocket indicatively.
[I had to go, so my log ends there]
