A change of scenery for a Pistoleer.

It was your typical peasant tavern, started as a shelter thrown together around a warm fire with it being expanded as people had type and resources, with a place for the owner to serve drinks to the works after their workday was done, a little off the beaten path so that those who knew about it didn’t have to worry about being judged for getting drunk to dull the aches and pains of a long day. It collected all lower born types from the dedicated laborer to the guy running a dice game. A place you could go and mind your own business and usually everyone else minded there own as well. But tonight was not such a night unfortunately. So a lady walked in garb torn from running trough the woods, some mud splattered here and there, twigs and small branches tangled in her light colored hair. The place went quiet she calmly walks up to the bar and asks for a glass of wine. The bartender pours her one passing it across. “This one is on the house you look like you could use it” With surprising regality she smirks and nods her head in thanks and she calmly looks around the room for a comfortable place to sit preferably near the fire.
Then a large mountain of a man muscles strain his homespun tunic. “There is a spot here” as he pats his lap with a boisterous laugh. A calm fairly quiet voice floats out of the corner of the place. “I wouldn’t do that Jan, the Lady has clearly had a rough day. Go back to your beer.” Jan laughter turns into a scowl “We aren’t on the job save your orders for then. If you keep bossing me around I will crush you little man, I don’t care what hey say about you.” The place goes nearly silent, as Pierre stands up placing his hat on his head. The bartender’s eyes go a little wide upon seeing Pierre’s smirk, “Please no bullet holes…. I’ll give you a bottle if no bullet holes” the keep pleads. “The good, strong stuff” Pierre responds. The keep sighs in resignation and nods. Pierre slowly walks towards Jan, Jan getting madder at this exchange stealing the limelight from joke, as everyone feels Pierre’s presence through the room. The lady grinning at everyone’s focus of herself, calmly walks over to the now empty table a sits down to watch the show.
“That’s it” Jan bellows taking a running step towards Pierre stumbles in utter disbelief as the pistol that was tucked in Pierre’s belt is now not only in his hand but is perfectly aimed straight between Jan’s eyes. Jan stammers “but no bullet holes…” Pierre nearly smiles, Jan shivers as if the drained all the heat from the room.”I would loose out on a bottle, you would loose out on a lot more. Now go home, leave your beer.” Jan seeing the look on Pierre’s face, knows the fear of certain death turns and runs.
With a same flourish, Pierre bows to the crowd taking off his hat. Straightening his pistol is back in it’s holster as if by the same magic that made it appear in Pierre’s hand. “I should have said no guns, not no holes” The keep grumbles as he pulls out a bottle offering it to Pierre” “Oui your probably right” Pierre chuckles as he graciously takes the bottle, and heads back towards the table. Pausing to look back over his shoulder at the crowd, who decide it was a great time to go back to minding their own.
“If I may?” He gestures to another chair with is bottle. She nods “What kind of helpless damsel would I be to turn down a brave protector’s company?” she asks with feigned frailty He adjusts the chair so he can seethe door. As he opens the bottle filling his distinctive cup, then placing it midway between them. “If you are helpless, then I am a priest. I just figured with your lack of company you wanted a quite time without any expectations on your time or behavior. So congratulations, now you can share this bottle with me and that will be the last that needs to be said, when this bottle is done I either going to bed, or escorting you where you want to go as you wish.” He then takes his hat off setting it on the table, and relaxing into his chair, keeping an eye on the door and crowd. Letting the quiet be companionably instead of expectant.

-next afternoon-
“I demand to see your leader” A messenger clearly high on self importance shouts at one of the peasants working on the finishing touches on the sewer. They point over at Pierre carrying some paving stone. “No not your foreman, one Mr. Pistolet. “Um he would know where this mister is your looking for.” The peasant smiles the moment the messenger stomps over to Pierre “Take me to MR.PISTOLET RIGHT NOW” the messenger shouts at Pierre. With a annoyed scowl and raised eyebrow. “You are shouting at him.” Pierre’s voice intentionally soft and quiet. “No, I am looking for the Renowned pistol duelist not some laborer” His voice dripping with condescension. At this Pierre sets down the paving stones. patting the dirt off his hands. “One in the same.” intentionally turning bringing his pistol in full sight. “Now I am doing something useful for the city, what do you want?” “Ah um, Lady Alexandra requests your presence, about possibly letting you earn the privilege of serving her household. So be as presentable as you can be.” Pierre chuckles “Your message is received. Scurry along, I will be there in the morning after I even take a bath”

The next morning as the household begins to awaken Lady Alexandra looks out the window towards the road. Wanting to make sure that things were not ruined by past interactions Pierre and Araga had. Just as the sun lightens the road, as if he was waiting for that moment just out of sight, he steps on to the road walking towards the manor with a sense of purpose. Lady Alexandra claps her hands summoning Sir Tulic, see in Pierre to the study, and on’t bother trying to disarm him, we have business, and we don’t need the hassle trying would cause. He nods as quietly steps to the door opening it as Pierre comes to it. With a head gesture Tulic turns inside, Pierre nods and follows, both have a hand on their preferred weapon. In the study Lady Alexandra sits with two glasses of her wine, a collection of morning food and two place settings. As the door opens “Good morning Pierre.” “Bonjour my Lady Alexandra” Pierre says with a bow. She gestures to the chair and glass “Please” Pierre’s eyes move about the room as he sits down. He picks up the fine glass and takes a gentle sip. “A fine vintage. Is this an offering to breakfast?” “Yes I thought you would enjoy good food while we talk.” “My thanks, and I accept.” Pierre’s manner shifting to an unusual formality. He picks up the eating utensils and places food on both their plates. He takes a bite off his plate chews and shallows, the pauses waiting for her to do the same. She smiles bemusedly as she does so. “So as my messenger said I would like you to join my house.” “I am sorry My Lady, that is business, this is a meal. I do not do one during the other.” “Ah yes Cappacian customs. Why is that no business during a meal, seems odd especially sense most cappacians prefer to do business around meal times?” “Well it is something we figured out. Meal times are a easy way to get multiple people in one spot. When business needs only the formalities doing it before the meal starts means everyone is interested in getting it done so they can eat. When starting new business do it after, because people are not irritable because they are hungry and no one really wants to fight when they are full, and just had a pleasant meal. No business during because if you are thinking about enjoying the meal you can not pay full attention to business or if you are thinking about business you can not give the meal the attention it deserves. A lot like kissing and riding a horse” Lady Alexandra chuckles “I wouldn’t think a peasant would observe what sounds like gentry formality?” “That is one of the large differences between Cappacian and the rest of the empire. The lowest have things and behaviors that in most other places are only luxuries. In door plumbing, wood or stone floors are the first two that come to mind.” Pierre pushes away his now empty plate. “Talking and teaching about your homeland isn’t business though?” “Well if the is a formal education on cappacian culture it would be. Not polite small talk between friends over a meal like it is.” Lady Alexandra pushes away her plate with some food left on it. “Now down to business” “Um please either finish your plate or have someone do it. I can’t let food go to waste.” She offers it to him. “Sir Tolic, I haven’t seen you eat anything wouldyou care for it” He offers. Tolic nods and sits down. “Wouldwe be bothering your meal if we talked business?” Tolic raises an eyebrow then shakes his head no.
Pierre reaches into his pouch pulling out two pieces of paper. “Here is the purposed agreement of me entering service to your house.” Lady Alexandra mildly surprised. “You had something written up?” “No I wrote it up last night after your entertaining messenger.” She nods and reads over it “Why two copies?””One for you to keep,and one for me.” “As I currently reside with my husband, I can not give you a room of your own to do with as you wish.” “That is fine for now, but you will have lands of your own I assume, and then that part you could honor.” “Agreed” She signs them both then passes the quill and papers back which he signs and makes a mark of a crossed pistol and rapier. “You sign and leave a mark?” “I wasn’t always literate, and that was my mark before I was, I use them both so both are valid” “Well then Welcome to House Vosslyn.”

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