Claribel nearly jumped out of her skin when two men came barrelling out of the tavern she was approaching, the two wrestling and shouting slurred obscenities as they at least kindly took their fight out to the streets. With a book tucked in her arms, she watched them for a moment or two to see if it was more than a drunken fight, if perhaps there were knives pulled or someone was about to get more than a few bruises and needed help; when she found none of these things, she gently shook her head and turned back to the Winking Mermaid. Just before the door shut, she slipped inside, and the door clicked closed behind her.

The smaller woman looked about the busy interior with those bright blue hues of hers, searching for the bar past all the other tavern-goers. When she finally found a stool to sit upon, she hopped to take the chance; it felt like she had been walking for days on end at this point, and her feet felt just about dead tired. So, she took her seat and set her book upon the counter as quietly as she could despite all the noise around her.

When the bartender approached, Claribel perked up and said, "I'll have a cup of tea, please..!" Unfortunately, her voice was lost in the rowdiness of the tavern in that hour, so she repeated herself a little more loudly and clearly. The bartender nodded and moved off to go prepare her drink and take other orders.

Claribel sat there for a few moments, then nodded to herself. She gently pried open the cover of her book to begin reading as she waited.

A rowdy tavern was the last place Ryspar really wanted to venture into. But he was hungry and desperate for something to drink. Even just a clean glass to drink it out of. He was tired, internally and externally. He had a little bit in the way of funds. Just enough to get some warm food that he hadn't hunted and gutted himself.

He elbowed his way to the bar, trying to both stay out of everyone's way but also to make sure no one thought he was an easy target. He could feel his temper beginning to rise and he silently muttered to himself to keep it under control. He finally made it to the bar, quickly sliding into a seat next to a young woman. Maybe even a girl. He never was one that could tell ages accurately. Interestingly enough, she was reading. In a bar. Was that wise? Probably not but maybe a little cute in how naive it was.

Ryspar ordered himself simply water and a bowl of soup. It was easy but it would fill his belly and he'd be happy enough with that. As he waited, the tavern only seemed to get more crowded. It was nearly impossible to hear anyone even if they were right next to you. Several groups kept pushing their way to the bar to get their drinks. Ryspar found himself carefully deflecting a few who nearly stumbled into the girl next to him. She was just reading and seemed to be bothering no one except that she was reading in a tavern.

A loud guffaw sounded next to Ryspar and he watched an inebriated man playfully push his companion, who was also quite drunk. The one pushed began to fall and again, Ryspar tried to catch the man so as not to disturb the girl next to him. Unfortunately, the man had no control of his drink and suddenly Ryspar found himself with nearly the entire contents of the mug of ale on his head. He took deep breaths to keep his anger down and he looked over to the girl, hoping her book hadn't gotten wet in the process.

The blonde-haired woman had been so deep in concentration that she had not noticed that anyone was sitting near her at all, nor that anyone had been pushing their way towards her only to be pushed or nudged away. She simply kept on with reading her book, totally engrossed in all the information it had to offer in terms of a couple spells, herbal remedies, even a few journal-style stories. Page after page she flipped, bright blue hues reading over the pages and then going back to the beginning of the chapter or section to do it all over again, and then a third time through before she moved on.

Another page was flipped, and she came upon something that drew a gasp from her. "Ah, a spell on agility!" she whispered excitedly. She wasted no time at all in diving into the reading, hungrily taking in all the information; this would certainly be useful on her travels, she thought to herself. If she ever needed to get somewhere quickly, then she could just use–ale!

No, no, she wouldn't use ale–there was ale all over her book! It soaked into the page that held the agility spell upon it, bringing Claribel's expression to drop, crestfallen.

"Oh no, no no no.." She began to look around in a panic for something to dry it off with, noticing (though just barely) the man beside her whose head was soaking with the same foul-smelling drink. In a fit, she dropped her robed sleeve upon the book and attempted to roll it around and soak up the alcohol before it could ruin the tome. "Oh, if only I knew a cleaning spell!"

With her sleeve now pressed to the book, she began to look around her for the source of such ruinous drinks–was it the man next to her? No, surely not; why would he slosh ale over his own head and on her book? He would be an awfully silly man if he did that. To the same person sitting next to her, she said, "Did you get to–Ah!" Claribel let out a cry as a man bumped into her, clearly drunken, with a hand stroking down her shoulder. She had jumped and jolted sideways towards Ryspar, nearly falling off her seat in the process, and stared in frightened confusion up at the shoulder-stroker. He merely gave a hearty guffaw, uttered something that was lost in the roar of the tavern, then grabbed his drink and hobbled off to wherever it was he had come from. Again came Claribel's voice in the form of, "Well, I never!"

Ryspar wasn't necessarily watching the young woman next to him. At least he wasn't meaning to. But she seemed blind to the world. It was almost enviable. Ryspar already had a headache from the raucous tavern but she was able to read! Not just read, but seemingly lose herself within the book. But it did leave many openings for her evening to be ruined and while Ryspar wasn't exactly some chivalrous knight, he wasn't just going to watch herself be man-handled. Or woman-handled. Drunk-handled?

But his luck in keeping anyone away was wearing thin. The ale came, soaking his white hair, plastering it over his eyes. Normally he used his hair to obscure his eyes but was still able to see. Not with the ale, though. He was steadying himself and trying to get out of the way of both the girl and the drunken fool who'd spilled the drink when he heard her dismay. He felt badly for her, but again felt his temper flare at the idiot who couldn't balance on his own two feet. Ryspar had a slight problem with temper. He'd been training himself for years to not let it get the best of him but he was tired. Tired, with a headache, and now apparently he'd watched this young girl have her night ruined. He was in a bad mood.

His yellow eyes glared into the human. He was quite a bit smaller in nearly every way but he looked like he meant business. Usually, his eyes were sad, perhaps forlorn. Now, they were just plain mad. "Apologize," he snarled, his lip curled. And then the man bumped again, jostling the poor woman. Without a thought, Ryspar held out an arm to steady the woman if she fell further. If she needed it, of course.

The buffoon said something, though the exact words were lost to Ryspar. "Apologize to her," he repeated, his voice ominous. Apparently that meant for the two men to simply walk off without another word. Ryspar silently raged and was ready to march after them and make them apologize. But he stopped and looked at the girl again. His anger ebbed a bit, feeling badly for her. He reached across the bar to grab some linens. He offered them to her, to dry her book.

"I am sorry your book got wet. I hope it wasn't ruined." He glanced up again and the two men were lost to the crowd. Ryspar sighed. He wasn't as angry now, but he was perturbed for her sake. He also quickly realized he didn't know what to do. Help her clean the book? Introduce himself? "It is very brave to read a book in a tavern as bawdy as this one. I am not sure it was the best idea but an impressive one. More impressive that you could so easily lose yourself in the book to become blind to your surroundings." That sounded unintentionally harsh. It sounded as though he was lecturing or chiding her. He hadn't meant to, obviously. Unfortunately, his face was blank as it typically was and she may have gotten the wrong idea. But now he had no idea what to say to her. It was clearly a mistake to read her book but most anyone would have known that from the start.

Claribel blinked in some surprise as she found a small stack of linen cloths presented to her–by the soaking man right next to her, of all people! Well, not that she thought it rude (she found it very kind, actually), but one look at the man and all his apparent rage would have been enough to send anyone running for the hills and sea vessels. Even his voice was quite frightening, yet she still settled back down within her seat and accepted the linens with a small nod and a soft smile. She took her arm from the book and looked over the pages with a soft sigh, seeing some of the inked words running into each other just slightly. Oh, if there was a cleaning spell, then she would dearly pray for a mess-reversing spell or some sort of ink-alteration spell–whatever would get this poor book back to normal.

The cloths were placed where her arm had been as she brought her sleeve up to her nose to give it a tentative sniff. With a tiny, quiet gag and a funny face, she let her arm drop back down, that her hand might rest in her lap. "I need a wash," she murmured. Despite such unfortunate circumstances, however, she brightened right back up!

Thankfully, it took quite a bit to ruin the mage's night, and a few wet pages and a rubbed shoulder sure weren't going to get her riled up just yet–especially if they were accidents! Yes, the woman nodded to herself; they must have just been accidents or something of the sort. Perhaps someone had simply slipped with their ale in hand–perhaps that drunken man simply needed someone to steady him since he was so drunken and therefore wobbly and about to pass out!

When the wet stranger began to speak, her blue-ish grey eyes shifted again from the book and up to him and his face, notably plastered with wet hair. She subconsciously reached up to move the hair out of his eyes with half the mind that he must not have been able to see with all of it in the way. Perhaps he should cut it! Oh, right, he was speaking to her, and responding was a thing!

"It wasn't your fault, really! I'm sure it was just an accident. It'll be just fine in a little bit! Thank you for the help, by the way," she said with a soft smile and pulled her hand back to her lap whether she succeeded in clearing his eyes or not. Then, her smile turned a bit sheepish at his comment, though the harshness of his words didn't seem to have been paid any mind in that moment. "Well, I used to be able to read in my village's tavern all the time without being bothered, but I suppose not all drinking establishments are quite the same. This one is much more rowdy–perhaps I am a little daft."

Finally, her nice cup of warm tea had been presented to her! Claribel thanked the bartender and left the necessary amount of gold coins upon their side of the counter. She slid the tea closer to her and picked it up within both hands as she spoke with the stranger. "So! What is your name?"

In hindsight, it might have been a better decision to keep one of the cloths for himself to dry his hair. But the girl accepted all of them. It seemed the damage might have been done and that the cloths wouldn't help but he hoped to help since he partly blamed himself for getting her book wet. Of course it hadn't been his fault but maybe if he'd been quicker or something, her book could have been spared. He saw the page when she moved her arm and as expected, it had smudged.

Ryspar felt badly for her as she continued trying to dry her book. Her rather foolish sniff of her sleeve caught him by surprise and he nearly laughed at her reaction. "Ale is not the best-smelling drink, is it?" he asked rather dryly. He could definitely agree a bath of some kind would be very welcome. He didn't fancy his hair smelling like ale all night. Besides, it was starting to get sticky.

But then the woman seemed back in her own world. She was nodding and seemed to be narrating things in her mind. Ryspar couldn't help but watch, slightly amused. She was a little strange, wasn't she?

The hand she reached toward him caught him by surprise but he didn't refuse. He couldn't imagine she wanted her fingers to smell more of ale but he could see she meant no harm. It embarrassed him a bit, to have a woman reach out to touch his hair. Maybe she thought little of it but it seemed to be a rather intimate gesture to him. It made him remember his wife, of the small ways she'd touch him that spoke volumes of how she felt. Those were the things Ryspar often missed the most. But this girl did look young. Maybe she simply didn't know better. He wondered, not for the first time, if she was a bit naive and unaccustomed to places like the tavern.

At least she didn't seem to take his scolding badly. He hardly wanted her to think he was angry at her. She had only been trying to read. "Maybe a touch daft. But maybe also…adventurous. There's not many who would risk opening a book in a tavern. You took that risk." He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

He watched her lift the tea, realizing that she was rather cute. He didn't necessarily want to find her cute (she did seem foolish and maybe even ditzy) but it seemed it was too late. He slowly blinked, steeling himself. Cute didn't have to mean anything, of course. Besides, there was little chance he'd ever see her after that night.

"Ryspar. A traveling fighter. May I ask your name as well? And maybe what is in that book that is so fascinating to you?" He'd never found that one true literary love that could teleport him to different worlds (as he heard books could do) but he didn't hate reading. He just hadn't read very much yet so he was inexperienced when it came to books.

Claribel was entirely oblivious to the half-stranger's inner turmoil–if it could be called that. Thinking people were cute was hardly a turmoil! His second comment brought her to give a small shrug; perhaps she was a little adventurous…oh, what was she saying? Of course she was adventurous! She had traveled all the way from Adeluna to Virens Forest back to Adeluna, had she not? Perhaps not as adventurous as some would have in mind when they were confronted with such a word as well, but it beat 'adventuring' across the house in search of a mug for your milk.

If there was one thing he might have been right about, it would have been the strangeness of her seeming self-narration. Occasionally, her features would shift or twitch just slightly in the smallest of expressions as if one were actually holding a conversation or telling a story.

She pressed the rim of her cup to her lips and tilted it to take a small sip as he asked his many (read: two) questions. "My name is Claribel! It's so wonderful to meet you, Ryspar," she said, the smile returning to her pale face in a more happy manner rather than the sheepish it had been before. Her gaze fell to the book when it was mentioned, still open and still drying. "Oh! Well, this book isn't that important–it mostly contains the little things, like basic spells and herbal remedies! Sometimes you even get treated with a little short-story and journal entry based on one of the tips they give you. The message in the front of the book says they're true collections of the creators' works, but the people in the book shop said that it was all phooey and just made up. Well, I just don't know if I believe either side! That makes it mysterious, and a little mystery is always great fun; iiiif it's the right sort of mystery. There are some mysteries out there that are just plain infuriating, yes? Like the one about the living and the lying and the–oh, I don't know!"

She drew in a deep breath and recited quickly, her head bobbing slightly with each word spoken, "What flies when it's born, lies when it's alive, and runs when it's dead?" The woman let out a huff of a pouty sort and took another sip of her tea. "I've just never been able to figure that one out. Immediately flying upon birth? Running even in death? Lying? Agh!"

Claribel shook her head from side to side and asked, "So, what brings you here? Are you traveling just like me? Just looking for a drink and a meal? Oh, I bet the ladies would love a guy like you!"

She didn't seem to react much when he called her adventurous. Was it perhaps a bad thing in her mind? Or did it simply not matter to her? It obviously wasn't important except that he had expected more of a response than the simple shrug of her shoulders. Perhaps she had her own secrets to hide. No, not perhaps. She surely did. Everyone did.

Ah, Claribel. He had her name now. She seemed to have more politeness than one would expect of a tavern patron. She obviously carried herself differently than the others there that night. She struck Ryspar as a bit odd but perhaps that piqued his interest more. As he expected, she began to tell him all about the book, and quite animatedly at that. He couldn't help but smile the smallest bit. He had no idea what she was talking about in terms of the mystery of "the living and the lying". Perhaps his confusion showed as she soon intoned the riddle she had been speaking of.

Ryspar had never been one to study riddles nor did he know many. And her riddle stumped him easily. "Regretfully, I know little of riddles. Only that many riddle answers are ideas and intangible rather than true objects. Time is often the solution but it makes no sense with that riddle. The first that came to my mind is some form of weather. Wind or rain but neither can 'die' nor can they be alive and certainly cannot be born."

Her next series of questions caught him by surprise, and brought a twinge of pain when she mentioned ladies in that context. No, ladies didn't seem to love him. At times, they pitied him. His sad eyes tore at their hearts and they set themselves out to "heal" him. They quickly learned, however, that he did not want that sort of nurturing that came from pity. He took longer to get to know and was not the sort to simply open up to anyone who spoke to him.

Ryspar gently averted his eyes to his own glass of water. "I am traveling, though I have no destination in mind. I stopped here in hopes of a good meal and a proper bed. I might stay for a time as I admittedly need a vacation from my traveling." He purposely didn't comment about any ladies. He wouldn't talk about that subject if he could avoid it. "Forgive me for prying, Miss Claribel, but are you traveling alone? I do not wish to be rude but… I am a touch concerned. Have you traveled far on your own? Encountered no difficulties?" He didn't want to say it but she seemed…well…weak. Still ditzy and it was hard to imagine her traveling by herself and surviving for long. She had mentioned spells in the book so perhaps she was a mage of some sort but even so. If she'd been oblivious to the noise and her surroundings in the tavern, how could she survive on the road unless she traveled with others?

When he too admitted that he did not know the answer to such a riddle, Claribel nodded and let her gaze drop back to her book. She gently lifted the linen cloths to see if the ale had been soaked up yet, then flipped them to a drier side and set them back atop the still-damp pages. A small, soft smile passed her by again, and she said, "No matter; I'm sure I'll figure it out one day! Riddles can't stay riddles forever. But! Perhaps you're onto something with how the answer might be weather-related. Hmm.." She tapped a finger upon her chin in thought, trying again to figure out the answer to a riddle that she'd been stuck with for years and years now; darn that Matthew, always confusing her and making her feel dumb!

Ever as clueless as she was, she did not catch the fleeting look of what might have been pain or discomfort within his eyes at her mention of women. Well, wasn't that what guys were usually interested in? Father always told her that younger men were after one thing and one thing only–and that was to get into a lady's bloomers. He warned her every time a new adventurer came around the village, some fresh new face that reeked of masculinity. Thankfully, she hadn't had any odd run-ins with those sort; they were usually in and out before she could get out more than a 'hello!'.

"Oh, me? Am I traveling alone? For now, yes! I've met a couple people along the way, but we always get split up somehow. They want to stay some place and take a break, I want to keep adventuring.. I'll likely seem them again, though! I've traveled from my home to Adeluna, from Adeluna to some forests, forests to Adeluna, Adeluna to the Plains of Bohar… Mostly back and forth, never further than the plains–at least not yet! I've been waiting to learn some more spells before I go any further, or else I surely might get my face eaten off by a gigantic monkey or what have you. I haven't had very many difficulties, actually; I've encountered a few trolls, but I didn't get hurt!"

"The worst, though, is when I tear the soles of my shoes from walking so much," she laughed quietly. She bent one of her legs at the knee to bring one foot a few inches higher, that she could point to her weathered flats, torn and stitched together then torn and stitched together again. "I really ought to buy myself a pair of boots before I run out of thread for any other patch-repairs. How dreadful is it when you're walking through the woods, just minding your own business, and suddenly your clothes are caught on what feels like every single low branch in the entire forest? It is horrible, let me tell you! Oh, if I hadn't had my thread with me all the times it happened, I reckon I would be sitting here in the raggediest of rags."

"Anyways! You're traveling too, you said, right? Where have you gone?"

At least Claribel didn't seem disappointed that he couldn't solve her riddle for her. Riddles could be frustrating when close to an answer but not quite there. He didn't want to ruin her optimism but riddles could most certainly stay riddles. "Perhaps you will. But not all riddles can be solved. I believe that is the purpose to some riddles, that there is no solution. The solution is none at all. But then, are those unsolvable riddles still unsolvable when the solution is that there is none. Goodness. Now I'm stumped," he said with a soft laugh. It was hardly more than an exhalation of air but it took a lot to get a response from Ryspar.

Apparently this girl had been on her share of adventures, from the sound of things. She always returned to Adeluna, though. Was this place perhaps her home? She must have been a talented mage (yes, mage, as she mentioned spells so surely she was adept in the magical arts) to have survived so easily.

Ryspar was rather horrified to see her shoes and to learn she'd been traveling in them. Surely one of the first things to purchase when traveling was proper footwear. A tent, blankets, and boots, yes? "Please do buy yourself proper boots before traveling again. Trust me, they make the journey much more enjoyable. They're very handy against most of the more mundane threats, like thorns, bugs, and snakes."

"As of now, I have traveled here from my home. I crossed the sea to dock in this city, but I have not seen a map for any length of time so I regrettably do not know of the places you mentioned. I came from the west to cross the water, and from far north beyond there. Is this your home? You return to Adeluna frequently. Perhaps this is where you live." He hoped he wasn't being too nosy for her. He was curious if she would share her reasons for traveling as she just seemed to take small trips back and forth. "I was…originally looking for someone," he admitted, his voice dropping to be certain no one would overhear. "But I do not believe she can be found any longer. Perhaps she died. But I decided to come to a completely unknown place and maybe find a different reason to travel or to…fulfill another goal in my life that I can pursue when not looking for her."