The illustrious tavern overlooking the bay certainly was a compelling sight, and fully worthy of its good reputation. The rain had not let up in the least, but the path of the sun had reached below the heavy cloud cover as it turned towards the horizon, and it bathed the cherry and gold wood with a welcome warming light, quite the contrasting face when compared to the majority of the rest of the Harbor.

The length of time it took to find the Widow's Walk with Henri's vague directions and poor sense of it was most likely twice the amount it should have taken, and now fully chilled and damp the sight of the unmistakable towering tavern was a more than welcome godsend.

Hopping out of the kint first to help the two girls to the ground, Henri smiled sheepishly as he held open the door to the restaurant. It was his fault that they had taken so long to reach the shelter and warmth of indoors.

Stepping inside Henri sighed with relief, it was warm! The promised fire was hissing and popping in the corner merrily and the wick could practically feel himself thaw, halfway expecting steam to rise from his clothes. The bar was a bit rowdier than he had expected, a group of pirates sat at the bar singing bawdily with the fellow musician in the corner. At another time, Henri would have been tempted to join them, but he was keeping fair softer company at the present … and much preferable company as well.

Spying the latter off to the side, Henri shook off the temptation to steal a seat next to the fire and nodded the two witches over to them.

“Lets go up,” Henri called over the ruckus, “It should be quieter up there.”

Adelle was thankful for Henri's suggestion of going upwards, not that she absolutly hated the loud drunken pirates' song, but she did want to be able to hear Henri and Llian as they ate their dinner...

She was especialy excited because she had a surprise for Llian and Henri. She had a new story to tell, one that would hopefuly become very famous ad be told eventualy by other wicks aswell!

Adelle began going up the ladder, flinching as the pirates hit a loud note in their singing.

It certainly was a beautiful sight. While the rest of the Harbour buildings remained dreary shades of grey, the Widow's Walk seemed to glow. The evening sun had broken through the rain clouds and Llian was struck by the warmth that the timber of the tavern gave off. Henri’s less than useful directions had left her soaked to the skin and feeling more fish than wick. She could only marvel the building’s exterior briefly for the idea of a cosy fire and a hot meal was more alluring than any piece of architecture could be. She could hardly feel her fingers through her gloves, the rain having chilled them to such an extent that she had to pry them from Finiss’ reins.

As Llian followed after Henri and entered the tavern, she whispered a silent thank-you to the gods. It was warmer than she could have imagined. Stuffing her gloves in her skirt pocket, she flexed her fingers hoping to chase the cold away. Had she not been in the wick’s company, she would have taken the closest table to the fire and stayed there for the remainder of the evening. She would have even put up with the rowdy singing and if a song she knew arose (and she had a few drinks under her belt) she would probably have joined them. Henri seemed to have other plans though.

When he had said dinner, Llian had assumed something more...casual. A night out for her usually was a meat pie and dancing with drunken pirates. This seemed far more formal. Even with Adelle’s presence, it was still a quiet dinner in a building that glowed. Suddenly, she felt conscious of the fact she was dripping water across the floor. “Dis is quite alright Henri,” she softly, “I don’ mind staying here.” But Adelle had already rushed off, clambering up the ladder to the second floor. She smiled softly at the girl’s enthusiasm. “Oh alright,” she said, gathering up her skirts in one hand. With the other, she began to climb the ladder, swaying uneasily.


The view, even from the second floor, was amazing. Llian could see why the Widow’s Walk was so popular. She could see the waters of the bay as they reflected back the sun’s rays and, despite the heavy rain clouds, the sky was turning a spectacular shade of orange. She stood waiting for Henri, eager to continue up to the balcony. “Ne, dis is definitely better,” she whispered. This was far better than the fireside and a musician singing sea shanties. She had a sunset and Henri.

(( I'm so sorry. I really have no excuse. ))

Having been told of the Widow's wonders before, Henri had assumed that he had a pretty good idea as to what to expect from the upstairs balcony, however Henri had hadn't been prepared for the view.

Orange sunlight shimmered over waves, warmed the heavy clouds to a rich purple hue, the red orb hanging halfway over the horizon as if reluctant to go. But that was not the sight that stole his breath.

Lilly stood before the balcony bathed in light. Like the light from a fireplace, it warmed her as it did the room and caught her eyes alight, a rich amber glow.

“O-oes,” Henri breathed as he averted his eyes, looking anywhere but the vision. It seemed somehow ... almost wrong to see this woman he had just met in this light; too soon to see her that lovely.

His wandering eyes fell upon an empty table off to the side. Grinning he moved around the girls, nodding over to the table as went to take a seat.

“This is a benny place. Fair much nicer than I'd gathered. But then th' song I hear tell did say ye had ta see it fer yourself,” Henri said as he looked at the sunset over the water, laughing gently as he gave the pair a wink, “I'd sing it for ya, but it seems a pina silly to sing about a place yer standing in.”

A serving maid chanced to cross near their table and Henri waved her to them as he smiled at the witches, “I don't know about you but I'm fair starved. A mant manna hingle vraun'd do me benny. Get whatever yats you want, and ne worries bout th' price. I'm top spice today.”

Adelle wasn't really a fancy eater. In fact, she really could care less as long as it just didn't taste bad. She looked down at Chace, who unfortunately could not join the three for dinner, due to climbing ladders to get to the table, and back to Henri.

"I'll have what hes having." She said with a shy smile. Best way to relax is to not try and figure out what everything on the menu was, meant, or would taste like. Hingle was something she already knew.

She looked at Llian, and back to Henri, definately confident in this new couple.

Llian caught Henri's nod as he passed her and she reluctantly pulled herself away from the window. She could have stood there all evening, watching the soft changing of colours as the sky lost its red hue and drifted into the black of night which was soon to come. Even as she sat across from Henri, her eyes continued to look over the bay. “It’s fair lovely,” she said softly. It seemed wrong to talk loudly in the presence of such a beautiful sight. The witch was in awe. Had she not met Henri under that apple tree, she would have simply eaten in her kint and missed out on this. In fact, she would probably have remained ignorant on such a place as the Widow’s Walk existing.
“I haven’ been here in Old Rose Harbour for fair long,” Llian confessed, turning her eyes back to him. “I’m a spoke girl, meself.”

She smiled in amusement, shaking her head lightly at his antics, “You’ll hav to sing it for me some other time den!” He had, after all, seen her whice (her own pride and joy) and he seemed very pleased of his talents as a musician and performer. She was already aware of his talents as the latter what with his flattery and all. But there was something about people who claimed to be a musician. Many men claim to be so simply because the idea it is, well, in all honesty, romantic. Music is an art long revered and it is, as many know, to be a personal and sometimes sensual thing. Llian wanted to hear him play and sing. More so, she wanted to see him again after tonight.

She didn’t feel uneasy as one might do when being offered an all paid for meal. She had very little money herself and the only food she had back in her kint (which didn’t need to be cooked) was a loaf of bread and an apple from the tree on the hill. Anything would be better than that. “Hmm, would I be able to get a plate of Garmon nibbles?” she asked, looking to the serving girl. It was a common and basic meal but she liked it and certainly hoped that even a place that looked as flash as this still served it.

Grish was drunk, but he was still functioning. He could still think. And he knew a few things. First, he knew he shouldn't have been drinking. He'd been good, he quit drinking since he left the navy. The beast was harder to keep at bay when he was sauced. Still, a few of his old shipmates had seen him at the shop and insisted they go to the pub and have a few drinks, talk about their times out at sea.

He stopped himself after they started to bring magma out. He knew he didn't need that. Besides, even without being a Hosturn, most of his friends were getting a bit rowdy anyway. He thanked them, excused himself, and broke the jaw of the one who called him a pansy for folding after a few beers. He stopped himself from stomping his throat too, but the others knew about him and just let him be. They helped their mate up and wished Grish a good evening.

In his drunken state, the only thing going through his mind was that he needed coffee. Coffee... where was the nearest place? He finally found a building that... well it looked like a tavern anyway.

He opened up the door, but for some reason, it was stuck. What kind of shit hole was this?! Anger, anger that would normally have easily subsided had Grish been sober blossomed from his breast, heated up his brainpan to the point he was grinding his teeth. "You must be clockin joking me!" He roared. With a muscle wrenching twist of his arm, two of the hinges popped off as he tried to tear the door off. There was a crack like a gun shot, of metal breaking, and screws ricocheted away from the threshold. The final one sheared diagonally, the door hanging by one warped hinge.

... Huh, so it was supposed to be opened outward. Grish looked at the door and the only thing that he could say was, "aaah gods, Soph is gonna kill me."

Well, might as well get some coffee before going in tonight. Gods knew he was going to need it. He staggered through the door, paying no mind to the stares he elicited as he made his way to the nearest table to fall down onto.