Recent content by Matvi Iramene

Matvi bowed his head to the happy pair. His raised brows and the smile full of a discrete knowing. "A pair of Veir Thung's, from Vel Anir," he said with an up curl of his lips. "Coming right up," He turned, quick, sharp, easy. Practiced hands grabbed up quick what they wanted. Slapped what...

"Ouch!" he played along. Neverminding the sting that came with the playful jab as he rubbed at the warm ache left in her knuckle's wake. Though hearing her laugh got rid of most of the pepper that saw his brows pinch. His smile small as she wagged her finger at him, and his eyes sharp with a...

A glance over the crowd. A good number of people taken care of, and given what drink he thought might soothe their ails. If only for the moment. If only for the night. But wasn't such the way of life? Little acts that lent their weight to the winds of the world? Gestures and phrases, all...

Iramene smiled sweetly at the guest's excitement, a sincere bow his response to the applause. Come the slap of coins against the counter, and Matvi's eyes went wide. His head recoiled back and he let the loss of words well in his mouth for a silent moment. "Sir, are you-" but the brawny man...

Pouring the cups and tending to the guests was never a thoughtless act. With Monroe around, however. Thoughts had a tendency to go out the window. Whether through smashed glass, broken doors, or passionate slams against the woodwork, only time could ever tell. All Matvi knew was that the...

Knowing how to listen, without listening too keenly. A management of the energies. It was one of the many talents needed by a bartender. With personalities of every ilk lining up and hollering for drinks, a bit of, situational awareness and triage did wonders. A quick scan towards the crowd...

The only thing that had stayed Matvi's hand upon his hilt, was the knowledge of how utterly useless his dueling saber would be against such a fiend. "A corrupted treant," Matvi whispered beneath his breath, his eyes wide at the site. The pale look of shock was shaken away. He cleared his...

There was the slightest hint of pride in Matvi's eyes, while his smile kept its cool little crook. "It is an involved process," he let on. "Curing alone can take months at times, if the magickers wise in the ways of the cure aren't disposed to the task," he half laughed at the absurdity of it...

To see her skip and laugh, all smiles and play, was infectious really. Apt, Matvi thought as he kept the full spread of his smile in check, for the poison drinker to be so warm and sweet. "I have taste," he said, a play at coy. "Better or worse, it is mine all the same," he went on as they...

A sour turn to the curl on his lips. Tart. None so much to ruin all the sweetness about. A faux hurt, but clear enough that he enjoyed the game. "Scent and taste go hand in hand, fair Caelia," the bartender let on. Plucked a third lemon from the tree, and felt its zest spray from the pores...

Matvi wore a self satisfied look. "Keeping secrets and striking deals," he pulled back the hand he had reached out with to take the lemon. "My my, Syr Kerrigan, aren't you a tricksome one," he could smell the sweet scent of the lemon citrus wafting about the air. He tilt his head in welcome...

Matvi spread his arms in a playful shrug. "I wouldn't know," his hands fell to his side, and he glanced about conspiratorially, "But I hear Master Brambleshell has been on the hunt for a nefarious bud bloomer," he glanced at her with a smile, and went back to tending the little tree. "So I'd be...

"Heard the diplomatic party goers brought that one back from the ball," Syr Iramene said some steps behind the illusive Syr Kerrigan. "You can thank that little thing for all those chilled drinks you've been enjoying hidden away at the Knoll," he smiled, an empty bucket in his hands. "Real...

Matvi slung a few drinks down the counter, and a few silver were left in their place. He gave a little salute and scooped up the coin. "Ruthi!" he called out as he "The kegs!" Something in the back room popped. Splashed. Gluggluglugged. And a pool of amber liquid started puddling out from the...

There came the hard shake of ice made to steady rattle-rattle-rattle against ribbed glass that frosted over with cold sweat worked up by the rhythmic pulse of fingers gripped tight and smooth pump of arms. It clacked against the hard wood counter of the Knolls bar, in beat with the drums and...