Busy nights and busy minds

[For Illyria Vera ]

Sybel was definitely a regular of the Punch Drunk Pub. A lot of troop soldiers considered it their regular tavern, and Sybel was no different. She enjoyed having a beer with the others after a long day of training, although the dynamic between her and the others had definitely changed after she had became the Warlord. She was no longer training with the knights and bannerets, but she was training them. Not everyone liked that, but generally speaking, they didn't dare tell her they weren't happy about a relatively young woman being their superior. Syb was indeed young, but her personal relationship with Uzmat and her dedication had allowed her to climb the ranks quickly. 

The dark haired woman sat at the bar, resting her lower arms on the surface while trying to pick a sliver of wood off the mug she had sitting in front of her. It was a busy night. Not only soldiers, but also citizens visited the tavern. Sometimes, this caused trouble, though. Some soldiers thought there was no place for citizens in the establishment. The Punch Drunk Pub was the most crowded tavern, though, so it attracted a lot of attention and people. She didn't mind the citizens' presence, as long as they didn't try to discuss the military with her. It was none of their business. 

Sybel gestured at the bartender for another drink, when she noticed a woman nearby. If she looked in her direction, she would nod at her. She didn't know all soldiers by name, let alone recognise every single one of them, but she knew about this one, because she knew she hadn't always served Roville. It had caused Sybel to keep an eye out for the woman. 

Illyria’s feelings towards the Punch Drunk Pub were…complicated.

On the one hand, she had to admit that it likely served the best ale one could find in Roville, at least among those cheap enough for a soldier’s wage. It was also a common gathering point for the city’s troops – a custom she had adopted easily enough – and there was not much better a place to unwind after a hard day of drills and sparring. But, on the other hand? Lords, it was loud as all hell. The pub epitomized everything Illyria disliked about city life.

Still, it had good ale.

Illyria sighed contently as she downed another swig of her mug, moving to gently massage a bruised shoulder once her hands were free. Just as well too after the beating her squire had put her through that day. The boy seemed incapable of smacking the broad side of a wagon with his wild swings, but he sure had a knack for hitting the mentor standing behind him, and the growing warmth of the alcohol in her stomach had started to dull that soreness just enough. Well, almost just enough. Pulling a coin out from her belt pouch and placing it on the counter, Illyria grabbed her mug again to down the rest of it while she waited for the bartender to bring another round, tipping the rim to her lips as she absent-mindedly turned to glance at the woman seated to her left.

Shit. Locking eyes with Sybel, the knight visibly flinched, coughing sharply as the ale in her mouth slid down the wrong hole. Shit, shit, shit. Illyria had no idea how long the Roville warlord had been sitting there, but her cold temper was infamous among the troop. She herself had been at the blunt end of it many times, and had witnessed other poor sods getting a verbal, or physical, taste plenty more, so the thought of having Sybel as a drinking buddy was about as appetizing as the exhaled ale foam Illyria now had to wipe from her chin.

“Dame Tanaka!”

Pushing her mug back onto the counter, the knight straightened her back and managed an awkward sitting salute in response to the warlord’s nod.

“Are you, err…havin’ a good evenin’?”

Was small talk even appropriate? She was so screwed.

She saw the response that Illyria's body had to seeing and recognising Sybel. The dark-haired woman remained stoic and maintained eye contact with Illyria, unfazed by her shock and attempt at small talk.

"Dame Vera", she responded with a nod of her head. She had to admit it was a funny sight, Illyria wiping the foam from her chin. All because she hadn't expected to see the Warlord that night. "I have some ale and some company, so I can't complain."

She studied the young woman, who was only a few years younger than she was. "It seems like your evening has been going the same." Sybel took a sip of her mug and placed it down again. "I hope your training today went better than your attempt at swallowing your ale, though." She allowed herself to raise the corner of her mouth just a little, so Illyria would be able to see she was kind of joking, but also kind of serious about the matter.

Illyria allowed her shoulders to relax slightly as she cleared the last of the ale from her throat. Thankfully, so far it seemed as if her sudden…display had not offended the warlord, at least not enough to forgo the pleasant small talk she was giving back, though the way Sybel’s dark eyes remained fixed on the knight the whole time kept her a touch uneasy. They were always hard to read.

Illyria did manage a smile though as Sybel drank from her mug, picking her own up once more and sharing a – much smaller – swig with the other woman, though she was quick to swallow at hearing Sybel’s question. The warlord may have had a hint of a grin, but the tone in her voice was plain enough.

“Aye, ma’am!”

She chuckled nervously.

“Much, uh, much better than all that. Took Luan out to have his first go at the pells. The lad’s a bit greener than some, but…” Illyria winced and massaged her shoulder again. “…he’s got plenty of spirit. I think he’ll make a fine knight one day.” There was a touch of pride in the woman’s voice. She had only been Luan’s mentor for near a season, but she was already fond of her first squire. He had a certain spark that reminded Illyria of her earlier years at Mont Daegal.

Lifting her mug back to her lips, the knight hesitated a moment before risking a question of her own. “Did you once have a squire yourself, ma’am?”

Sybel had taught herself, over the years, that small talk was just part of interacting with humans. She wasn't particularly good at it, and it was always a bit awkward, but she managed to survive most conversations. It was only when the small talk became so small that people started to comment on the weather, that she would just stare back in an attempt to make the other feel stupid. For now, the small talk between her and Illyria was alright.

She did like hearing that the squire had a promising future ahead of him. It was also good that Illyria actually trained him. Quite some knights just used their squire to haul around their equipment. In a way, it was what they were for, but they needed training as well. "Good", she said. There was still little emotion in her voice, but Illyria would be able to catch that she was satisfied.

As she was taking another sip, the woman asked her a question. She swallowed the ale while nodding. "I did, yes. Helena. She's a banneret now, so she has done well for herself." Sybel was proud of Helena, but the two weren't in touch. They saw each other while training, and would talk, but they didn't hang out outside of working hours. "But as you may know, I caught the attention of Lord Ricman, so my progress and training went differently from other knights." She had skipped the banneret position and had instantly become the warlord.

"What would you say is the biggest difference between Roville and Mont Daegal?" she then asked before bringing the mug up to her lips again.