Azarian clamped the short clay pipe between her teeth in order to free up the hand that wasn't carrying the large bundle she had tucked under one arm. She pushed the door open to the common room of the Dancing Dover and stepped in from the damp, drizzly day.

Home away from home! thought Azarian as she walked in to one of the few taverns that she wasn't banned from. Drunken outbursts and insulting the owners of various establishments had limited where she could drink these days.

She took the pipe from her mouth, blew out a stream of smoke then flagged down the barmaid that was working that night.

"Hie, Tess! Be a divine being and bring me a large mug of rum and one of those meat pies will you? It's as miserable as a paupers purse out there."

The staff in the Dove were used to Azarian's high handed mannerisms and her obtuse way of speaking. They either found her endearing or at worst yet another shameless noble.

Azarian slammed the package down on a corner table near the fire, she pulled off her cloak and hung it to dry, then sighed gratefully as she settled in to a comfortable chair.

"A mite busy in here isn't it?" Hayden mumbled. He pushed his way through the crowd and plunked down on the floor as close to the fire as he could get without setting himself on fire. At least, I'd be warmer that way, Hayden thought sardonically.

He was dripping wet and soaked through to the bone. "Damn weather," he grumbled.

Azarian overheard Hayden's grumbles. She was never one to hold back from butting in, having next to no sense of propriety.

"The damn drizzle gets right through to your bones doesn't it. Such are the joys of Corus weather. Hot when you wish for rain, rain when you wish for heat and snow whenever it damn well pleases."

She set about refilling her pipe with tobacco out of the small pouch she drew out of her pocket.

"at least this stuff is still dry, or there'd be blood on the walls!"

“I was out in for an hour,” he responded rubbing his hands together. “Corus weather is an evil that I’ve put up with my entire life. At least, now I’m not worrying about the weather damaging the crops.

“What can I get you?” A barmaid asked.

“Something warm, anything warm,” Hayden told her shivering.

"Well an hour out in that," she jerked her thumb towards the door, "is worthy of a knighthood in my opinion, which is why I find my noble self frequenting the warmest coziest spot in this fine establishment, where I intend to sit until it stops or at least I'm too muzzy headed to care."

Azarian wasn't entirely oblivious to the nature of most people who frequented the Dove and perhaps for some it would be unwise to announce their intention to get drunk for fear of a cut throat and a stolen purse. However Azarian was fairly secure thanks to one or two less savoury aquaintances in her years of drinking there.

She gave the kitchen maid a quick smile as she brought the hot pie over to the table.

“An ingenious solution,” Hayden grinned and reached out for the mug that a barmaid handed him. “Ten thousand blessings,” he blurted, taking the mug from her and draining most of it.

“Ahh sweet warmth,” he sighed. “Hayden LaRue, nice to meet you.”

Azarian raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard mention of that name before, up at the University I believe."

Azarian neglected to add that she couldn't for the life of her remember in what context, but she was sure it would come back to her eventually.

She extended a hand in greeting.

"Lady Azarian of Stone Mountain, academic and scourge of the first year students. Please spare me any grim recollections of the joyus history of my family if you know them."

Azarian and her family were still dogged now and again by whisperings and wives tales about the untimely demise of her distant relative at the hands of the chamber.

Hayden suppressed a groan. So glad that gets back. Note to self: avoid that place for, at least, another three weeks. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard several of your stormwing lectures. Most fascinating and comprehensive that I’ve heard . . .since . . .well, ever.” He shrugged, pressing the warm cup to his chest and sighing happily at its heat.

Azarian leaned forward, surprised.

"Really? You've heard my lectures! Well thats just marvellous. I mean it pays the bills and all that, I wouldn't do it otherwise. Frankly, I got tired of sitting through lectures by dusty old professors who'd been lucky if they'd glimpsed a stormwing, let alone know their habits and suchlike. The stormwings are one of the few attractions of Stone Mountain, which says an awful lot about my home."

She leaned her chin on her hands, regarding Hayden closely.

"So what brought you up to the university? You don't look like an academic, and believe me, that's a good thing."

"That boring, huh?" Hayden asked, with a sympathetic nod. "As for being an academic, I don't look like one, but unfortunately, I am one. Sort of." He shrugged. "My parents would never have been able to scrape together enough funds for the university fees, which is either a good or bad thing. I haven't concluded an answer yet.

On the bad side, it would have more than likely squished out my loveable personality on the other hand, I would be a university graduate and I wouldn't be living meal to meal sans a steady career."

"Oh it'd be fantastic if it weren't for the other dusty old farts clogging up the place!" Azarain replied with her usual candour.

"Anyway all my university training and your lack of it and it's both ended us up in the same place eh? Seeking warmth and comfort in the Dove on a chilly day."

Azarian tapped a long finger against her chin thoughtfully.

"Now I think about it I'm sure I've seen you squirreling away amongst the history texts, I think you're doing yourself a disservice Master Hayden."

Hayden chuckled a little. “Life is very odd like that, although I would never accuse you of being conventional academic, so to speak.” He cuddled his mug closely. “So why do I do a great disservice to myself?”

Azarian grinned. "Nothing in my life has ever been conventional, and I say you do yourself a disservice because firstly you're clearly a man of intellect otherwise you wouldn't go within a crooked mile of the shelves in the library I saw you near and secondly I don't waste my time on people who lack....a spark of something beyond the normal. Always one to blow my own trumpet, here I am talking to you and therefore you must be of interest."

Azarian frowned.

"I believe I lost myself somewhere in the middle of that sentence."

She shrugged and took a long gulp of her drink.

"It was a very long sentence," Hayden agreed his voice stone straight for a moment, before a quirk on one side of his lips appeared. "I'm glad I have a reference for next time someone demands as to why I'm wasting their time."

Azarian laughed heartily and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a stamp of approval thats nationally renowned, especially given my family's high status in the kingdom. We're well loved by the history book and the bards!"

He grinnf. "It's better than nothing, eh?" He asked. He finished his mug and held it out for more.

"Infamy rather than annonymnity? Maybe. It takes a long time for mistrust to work its way out of this kingdom, although I found having a stormwing as a guardian when I was younger did wonders with with potential defamers and bullies."

She patted the bundle she had laid down beside her when she came in.

"They can also do wonders for my purse when money is running low."

"Aw, the wonders of Immortals who have more than one use both body guard and career." Hadyen joked, looking at a sleeve. He casually wrapped it around his finger and squeezed some of the water out of it.

"Mmm. I also do a neat trade in Stormwing feathers, mostly for academic study at the university and for various members of the court. There have been other markets too. In such a place as this," she gestured around with her hand, "you meet interesting characters."

She took another gulp of her drink, draining the mug and then crooking a finger at one of the barmaids to come and refill it.

"Of course I stay away from some of the shadier elements in here. Some people are reliable predictable in her habits. Some," she shot Hayden a curious look, "...less so. I for one still have some scruples left. Not many admitedly but enough to keep me on the straight and narrow."

Hayden bobbed his head and surveyed the room. "Dove is full of interesting characters and keeping out of their business is always a good idea."

"Indeed, but watching them is fascinating. Take young "king" Lasser for example. How long do you think he'll last? He spends extravagantly, he gets the backs up of people who could potentially bring him down and he doesn't exercise caution when dealing with some of the wilder and less predictable people in here."

She took out her tobacco pouch and started filling the bowl of her pipe again, chiding herself mentally for smoking too much. She lit the pipe using a splint of wood and breathed out a stream of smoke.

“Hopefully, for a while,” Hayden opined. It was always a hassle when the Rogue was overthrown it meant a lot of wheedling and cajoling and agreements. “He’s lasted longer than I expected. He seems to either be incredibly lucky or incredibly brilliant when it comes to managing to do some of the right things.” He shrugged. “The king before him went down in all of six weeks.”

Azarian whistled softly. "Not really a job with a great life expectancy is it? I hear Lasser has his finger in many pies, it's probably helped his longevity."