[h1][centre][color=a2d39c]Syraeia Leela “Sy-a” Inn Keeper[/color][/centre][/h1]
[h2][centre][color=a2d39c]Dawn Haven _ “The eye of the Beholder.”[/color][/centre][/h2]
[centre][color=a2d39c][b]Open for Business[/b][/color] [/centre]


Syraeia Leela was watching the front taking glances towards the kitchen where she was warming up a large metal pot of stew, thick and hearty with some spices, she turned back to chop some onions with a little garlic. Her senses were enhanced by her change and that kind of made cooking easier. A few minutes later the stew was smelling much better and more like the food she smelt at the castle banquets as a child celebrating large events in the borderlands. 

Her rather obvious change, the rather eye in the room as it were, also gave her a wide range of vision and clarity meaning she caught the two comers rapidly coming in almost instantly as they did. That had caused her almost constant pain until her mind and body adapted, now she was very hard to catch unawares. 

Holding herself back, the mass of the persons spread her need to “feed” as such over a larger group, subtlety, she had yet to truly push or understand her abilities though. Her needs were relatively low and could go unnoticed for now. 

[color=a2d39c]“Try the new batch of salted venison, next to tunerac. Hard work, needs a good meal”[/color] Her lack of formal education was ever present and not something she could help. Sunni had come in and was helping himself to a meal but the two young lads were talking with excitement…and had also trekked a bunch of mud into the Inn. She gave Sunni a smile and turned to deal with the table. 

Pulling her hood up abit more she moved over to the two young men, they looked very muddy, tired though proud of themselves too and from memory they seemed polite enough. [color=a2d39c]“Welcome to the eye, what you having. But I draw the line at the wines.”[/color] She said the young men were growing up but not quite ready for that yet especially as she might have to clean up the floor afterwards. 

“The stew please” one called out and gestured to the back and where Sunni had vanished into the back. “cheese, meat, bread and some of your sweet treats to share please” The second asked, adding a luxury that they could less often have due to imports bringing an expense. Sunni was paying, so the two young men would be happy, fed and for free. They were least respectful. 

[color=a2d39c]“I'll bring your stew out too.”[/color] She turned to an older man who had arrived before she was ready to serve. Sunni was in the back and smell was..honestly pretty good coming from the kitchen if it followed what it started as. Or maybe it was just her stew as she had to actively distinguish things due to the acuity. 

Syraeia chopped off some salted venison, a thick chunk of cheese, some of the fresh bread from the bakers with butter, sausage and other pieces onto a wooden tray for one of the meals turning to pour some thick stew with chunky trenchers of bread. She began to fall into a well practised routine and felt a little bad she ignored Sunni but was running on autopilot.  

Thinking what she needed was hard, unused to asking the person who had helped her for help…it felt odd…but she did need help. [color=a2d39c]“Well I can handle bigger stuff, I need some help on the front, take the tankards, pass out full ones and run stuff back to the kitchen so I can have it making coin. Sorry…I'm sorry. It's just been busy later on when everyone wants lunch or so.”[/color] She sounded timid still about asking Sunni, he helped her willingly  but she was so used to being a lone outcast. [color=a2d39c]"Oh and wipe up that mud"[/color] Trying to force some more confidence into her tone. 

Pouring two smaller but proper dark man's ales, she smiled. [color=a2d39c]“I'm looking after them.”[/color] Her nerves, well she did not call him sir but still, part of her was still little cautious as a blight born was not always treated kindly however much he never had said anything against her. [color=a2d39c]“I am fortunate, many others are not, my home never stood a chance.”[/color] She said, blinking a tear from her eye and turning away from him pretending to tally up anything that needed to be restocked in the shelves before the busy time came. It was very different being protected by a kingdom, having access to their resources and the trained and professional guardians. 

Syraeia composed herself before balancing the food, drinks and everything to go out . That was one skill she had gained quickly and handed out to the 3 people sitting waiting their meals. 2 bowls, one wooden tray, a smaller tray and two tankards without a pause. 

The portions were a little on the generous side but so many hard working men and women, all the construction and labour. The hearty portions had kept people coming back regularly to eat and drink. They needed a proper meal to be able to work and so did their Jobs. So far Sunni had approved, it supposedly built a good reputation and built some words she did not understand yet. 

Syraeia walked out checking her hood was in place from a small mirror of glass placed so one could see what was happening in both rooms. [color=a2d39c]“If you need anything, just ask at the bar, we got a fresh shipment recently, salted Venison, some southern wine and cured and spiced Jerky that smells rather good.”[/color] She said softly but with confidence, another of Sunni lessons, once you had customers let them know what else they can buy. With a growing efficiency she distributed everything carried across the tables. 

Giving a little nod, [color=a2d39c]“gentlemen”[/color] she said, giving the boys a glance too, they swelled at the word and the implication. Young men were proud and at a confusing time in their lives. Crossing the Inn she was soon back to the cooking area and wondering what creation Sunni was working on, he had some interesting if perhaps less practical ideas. Closing her eye a second she sighed in enjoyment at the dark, the dark was safe, a place of comfort. Dropping her hood back revealed warm brunette hair tied into an intricate braid down her back with dark wood and a plain stick used to anchor it and keep it from slipping. The gesture moved her senses to their full acuity and ability no longer muted by her hood's cloth and took a number of seconds to adapt. 


[hider=REFRENCE _ VIKING BRAIDS]
[img]https://i0.wp.com/therighthairstyles.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/32-intricate-vicking-braid-hairstyle.jpg?resize=989%2C1226&ssl=1[/img]
[/hider]


[color=a2d39c]“Ahhh”[/color] Syraeia vocalised her feeling, her accent was a mix of both kingdoms merged and mutated into a unique form that grew up separately in each of the now many destroyed borderlands settlements, often smaller and independent than ruled by any one man or woman. 

Turning to a large account book sat in a safe spot and scribing slowly, cautiously having spent more time than she would admit to anyone teaching herself to write in a now mostly neat looping hand abet slowly. The supply cost she wrote into the column, with notes of the value of stock In another, each letter and number slowly and deliberately formed. [color=a2d39c]“Can you check my tally sometime tonight?”[/color] Asking a little more relaxed and calm, almost treating the task like a form of meditation. 

Syraeia allowed herself to drop her guard which was genuinely a challenge after scraping a survival for over a year before this, and made small talk, not realising she mentioned how her father who in life was a master blacksmith would have been most upset by some of the goods in the market. She had seen enough growing up to know quality and had been surprisingly fierce about the quality of the kitchen's iron works. Her hand brushed something strapped to her belt, one thing she had refused to sell however starving she was. 

Moving the topic on, she started asked about rumours and if anything of note had gone on in town. 


[@The Savant] _ Cyrus ‘Sunni’ Emberan