[Open Post -- Jacquel] Raise a glass, I got plenty!

[death_dawg]

For the past several weeks, folks going into the basement might have noticed a few odd-looking buckets in one cool, dark, dry corner, and a tall guy checking on them every day, with the attention of a surgeon with a critical patient

Comments

[homely_sonja]

It's the loud noise that attracts Brienne's attention: otherwise, she wouldn't necessarily venture into the cellar, unless she was sure to find someone she needs there. As it is, the noise and her recent worries over Michelle's disappearance have sent her on a sleuthing bender.

She'll come down the stairs, sword drawn, in case.

"Who goes there?" she calls, half-defensively.

[death_dawg]

"One drenched homebrewer," a deep, irritated voice will call out. And a tall, dark guy in his shirtsleeves will come around the corner, wet and smelling of beer. "Had a barrel decide to explode when I was decanting it. I must've put too much yeast in that batch," he says, grumpily, though given his appearance, it's clearly not her that has him grumping.

[homely_sonja]

A pause and the sword is lowered, if not returned to its scabbard, but that is only because the narrow space of the stair case allows for little room to move.

"Oh," is the lady knight's response, and she pauses, pads down, then puts the sword away.

"Are you hurt, then?"

[death_dawg]

"Got a few scratches from the splinters when the end of the barrel busted out, but I'll manage," he says, feeling the side of his neck, where a few red marks might be seen. Then dryly, he adds, "Good way to clean the wounds, with something potent.

"Name's Jacquel. And who've I the honor of addressing?"

[homely_sonja]

"Brienne of Tarth," she replies. "From Westeros."

She'll come closer, though, and say stoutly, "Let me help."

[death_dawg]

"Much appreciated: Could use a towel and I think there's splinters in between my shoulders where I can't reach," he says, peering over his shoulder. Drat this rather limited shell...

[homely_sonja]

Brienne looks suddenly very ill at ease, and simply nods. "I shall return anon."

She leaves without waiting for further word, and returns a short while later with a towel.

"... shall I find a healer?"

She's a fighter, not a nurse. She can't help you with your splinter, Jacquel. Not to mention, she will DIE if you take off your shirt.

[death_dawg]

He's probably not likely to take off his shirt, but he's been known to surprise us in odd situations. But he does accept the towel. "Thank you kindly," he says, blotting what he can of his hair and neck and shirt. "Wouldn't mind an extra pair of eyes to take a look where I can't see. Think there's something sticking out from my middle upper back, too." There's a few splinters there as well.

[homely_sonja]

"... Aye," Brienne replies, and she feels quite inadequate for the job of removing splinters, "... I shall seek a healer, then, for you have splinters galore."

She turns, and goes.

In the interest of expeditiousness, I might send one of mine?

[death_dawg]

Shall we handwave one of yours coming to his assistance?? Galie or Pascal perhaps? (I'm inclined toward the latter, but 'tis your call!)

OOC

[homely_sonja]

((Yes, handwaving works, and it can be Pascal ^^ ))