Saturday, February 15, 2014

PBM: Chapter 1: Arriving in New Phlan: Part 12

In which the day finally wraps up, curses are removed, and everyone gets some much-needed rest.

Donovan

Donovan walks down to the docks. He wanders the street a bit before coming to a tall, wooden tenement, perched on what was a pier only three months ago, but now a good hundred feet from the water. He walks around to the back of the building, fumbling in his pockets for a key, and ascends a rickety staircase. The building was not the most sturdy-looking, little better than some of the buildings in the Slums, but at least it was inside the walls, and it was home.

He stops at a door at the top of the third flight of steps when he hears a shout from below him. "Oi! Don!" He looks down to see a short, scrawny, rat-faced man with a bad comb-over glaring up at him. "When did you get back Don? I haven't seen you in a month and your rent's due. Another day and I was ready to rent your room out to another letter."

Donovan groans, rubs his temples, and fishes two platinum coins out of the pouch Aumry gave him. "Here Stan," he drops the coins down into the man's outstretched hand. "That should pay me up in full and for next month two. I'm leaving again in the morning and probably won't be back for another couple of weeks..." He leaves the man to the coins and turns and opens the door. He stumbles into the small, one-room apartment and locks the door behind him. Still groaning and rubbing at his head, he drops his bags right inside the door and goes to relieve himself into a pot in the far corner. After a long pee, he walks over and props the small window open with a stick to let in the air and dumps the pot out the window...hoping that his landlord is still down there. He goes and collapses onto his bed and is soon snoring away.

Lyra

Lyra's shoulders slump as she thinks for a moment.  "An air drake, a magma silt horror, and a cistern fiend should all be big enough that someone would notice.  An eater of knowledge still big, but less big than the other three.  Killing any of those would be highly problematic, especially with just us.  There's a good chance any one of those could destroy most of the town before anyone could do much about it.  Of course, a telepath strong enough to keep the field going this long is also likely to be problematic.  If it's a device ... that would probably be easiest to triangulate the location of, but otherwise I'm not sure I'd know what to look for."

Frantiska

Frantiska puffs on her cigarette and looks incredulous, "So we don't actually know anything." She begins unhitching Thistledown, "In which case, there is nothing we can do for the moment. Let's hope that your instincts about this a wrong. Maybe it's just the strain of the day, or the smell of the water here getting to us all. I suggest we take Donovan's advice and get a good meal and some sleep..." She looks bemusedly around at the unfamiliar city, "Any guesses where we could find such?"

Lyra

"Calling it 'water' seems charitable...."  Lyra looks around to orient herself.  "We ate at the Cracked Crown earlier today, but some of the sisters from the temple of Tyr are planning to be at The Bitter Blade tonight.  Playing cards with the grocer, apparently.  As for lodging, I'm not entirely sure.  Mother is staying ... somewhere.  I could stay at the temple; they offered hospitality for saving Brother Rant earlier today."

Frantiska

Frantiska looks at Hrud, "We'll need to keep and eye on him. You said you knew a priest that has had dealings with his tribe. Let's start there."

"Hrud, kita akan menemukan sebuah penginapan di mana kita bisa makan dan tinggal untuk malam."

Lyra

"That would be Brother Rant.  I think the fastest way back to the temple is this way....  I should check on Amara and pick up a few things that I left there.

Not wanting to take chances with unfamiliar side streets at this time of day, Lyra sticks to the main roads, heading back to the parkside entrance of the temple of Tyr.  "Something that would break the concentration of anyone in town momentarily, like that explosion, or Donovan's hurdy-gurdy, might give us a moment's reprieve."  Lyra sighs and presses the heels of her palms into her temples.  "Just, be on the lookout for anything suspicious as we head across town."

GM

In the two block walk to the temple in the last fading light of the day, you notice nothing out of the ordinary, for Phlan at least. At this time of the evening, the roads are fairly crowded with people as they close up their shops and head for their homes or one of the three inns inside with walls. The mix is remarkably diverse: humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, even a few orcs, goblins, and...other things, and all of the citizenry appear to be armed. Everyone has at least a dagger visible, and the wealthier shopkeepers walk about with large swords or crossbows, and usually a few heavily armed and armored guards as well. In the short walk, your headaches abate not in the least.

Lyra

Lyra seems to be focusing on the crowds.  She keeps her voice quiet.  "Look, the people coming from that way seem fine.  That's consistent with my assumptions about the source of the headaches having a stationary area of effect with a finite radius."

Frantiska

Frantiska looks around at all the people passing on the street, "This seems like a rough town. I thought it would have been more peaceful inside the walls..."

Winona

As you near the temple, you see Winona and two of the other white-robed Tyrran priestesses coming out the main doors. Winona looks like she is dressed for a night out on the town, her robe open in the front to reveal a suit of double-linked chainmail underneath, a set of metal flindbars stuck into her belt, and a large, two-handed flail strapped to her back. She absentmindedly fiddles with a deck of playing cards in her hands, shuffling and rearranging them as she chats with the other sisters. Seeing Lyra, she stops and waves.

Lyra

"Apparently their definition of 'civilized' is less overcrowding, more money, and stronger walls and better arms and armor to keep it that way."  Spotting Sister WInona, Lyra waves back.

Winona

Winona guides her little party in Lyra's direction. "Good evening, Dearie..." Winona flinches slightly as an arrow suddenly comes flying out of nowhere to clatter against the wall of the temple. She turns and glares at the river before continuing, "Did the rest of your shopping trip go well?"

Lyra

Lyra isn't quite sure which is more shocking, the arrow, or the Sister's reaction to it, and winced at the sudden noise as it hit the wall.  "It was ... fine.  I found the rest of my party while I was out, and some ... additions.  Sister Winona, this is Frantiska Sykora and Hrud of the Eraka.  So far as I can tell, Hrud does not speak the common tradespeech, and I was hoping that Brother Rant might be able to assist in translating."

GM

A few more arrows come flying out of the darkness while you talk, landing among the cobblestones of the road or bouncing harmlessly off the walls of the temple, most of their momentum having been exhausted. One of the other priestesses, a slip of a girl in a novice's habit with a spiked mace resting against her hip, speaks up, "I saw Brother Rant attending vespers in the chapel just now."

Hrud

Hrud unsheathes his sword (slightly disappointed that it doesn't appear to be any different than it was before), "Ngendi nyerang?"

Winona

Winona smirks a little as the barbarian draws his sword and points to the north. "Orcs, on the other side of the river. They do this every evening. It's a bit too far for their bows, but they try anyways." She fiddles with the cards a bit more, then realizes what she's doing and holds them up. "We were just on our way to the Bitter Blade for some fun. Care to join us?"

Frantiska

Frantiska raises an eyebrow, "That explains everyone's armament. Are the orcs just ruffians, or have they ever made any real threats against the city?" She briefly contemplates testing the range of her own weapon, then notices Hrud's elevated alertness. She thinks for a moment, "Hrud, Orcs di sisi lain sungai. Mereka hanya mencoba untuk menakut-nakuti orang."

"I don't know the word for Orcs in any equivalent language..." she admits quietly to Lyra.

Hrud

Realizing that no one seems to care much about the attacks, or interested in doing anything about it, Hrud grudgingly puts his sword away.

"Wong ing kutha iku edan" he mutters.

Winona

Winona closes her eyes tightly and shakes her head a little, "Ugh." She suddenly notices that Lyra and her companions are also acting strange. "Did you bring some sort of headache monster with you dearie?"

Lyra

"Half the monsters I know of that can do this are forty feet long, and none under nine.  I think we would have noticed by now.... "  Lyra trails off and rubs her eyes again.

Winona

Winona groans, turns, and opens the door back into the temple. "Sorry dears, I'm suddenly not feeling well so I'm out tonight." She motions for Lyra and the others to follow her as she heads inside. "We should get one of the senior priests to look at you, there are a number of contagious maladies which could cause pains like this..."

Lyra

Lyra follows Sister Winona inside the temple.  "I was fine until I met up with Mr. Donovan.  And you were fine before meeting up with us, correct?"  Lyra frowns and looks over at Frantiska.  "Did anything ... unusual ... happen while you were outside of town, and when did your headaches start?"

Frantiska

Frantiska motions for Hrud to follow them, "Ya, Hrud, mereka gila. Ayo, kita akan menemukan imam anda."

"The headaches began shortly after we dispatched the kobolds. I doubt that this is any kind of mundane illness, Selune's power shields her knights from such inconveniences." She looks around the large temple, clearly unimpressed. "Lyra's theory that it is some kind of psionic assault, or perhaps a curse or enchantment seems more likely..." She pauses, realization suddenly dawning on her, and reaches up and snatches the hat off the top of her head.

GM

Another identical hat appears in its place. You now have two ugly hats.

Frantiska

Frantiska looks at the frumpy, reddish thing in her hands for a moment, then snatches the other one off of her head.

GM

Frantiska pulls the hat off of her head, followed by another, and another, each identical to the last. 6...7..8... The hats just keep coming. 9...10...11... Soon a small pile of the hats litters the floor of the temple, and always a new one is there on her head. As the hats fly, she can feel the headache growing worse.

Winona

Winona can't help but laugh. "Look on the bright side, dearie. You could move out to the slums and run quite the haberdashery business with no work at all..."

Lyra

Trying not to laugh just makes Lyra's head hurt worse.  "I don't suppose you remember the phrasing of the curse?"

Frantiska

Frantiska rubs at her temples and throws another hat on the ground. "The kobold priest said 'May your heads never be uncovered for a million days! May your roots wither and die! May your fleas and lice shrivel! May the kings of gods and men rain their hatred upon your pates,' or something pretty close to that." She plucks off another hat and stares at the thing, trying not to think about how impolite it is to wear a hat indoors. "I hate kobolds..." she mutters.

Lyra

A million days is a long time to have a headache.  Lyra lets out a long, drawn out sigh.  "The part about the fleas doesn't sound so bad, at least.  Sister, is there anyone specializing in curses we could talk to?"

GM

You stand, hats piled around you, in the vestibule of the temple. The sound of priests chanting vespers echoes from behind the large doors into the sanctuary. Doors which creep open as you continue to make a ruckus. "Can I help you?" says a voice. You look to see Brother Rant, mended, freshly shaved, and wearing a suit of scale armor emblazoned with Tyr's Hammer, coming through the door. He looks bemusedly at the heap of hats littering the floor.

Lyra

Lyra blushes a bit.  "I hope you are feeling better, Brother Rant.  This is Frantiska Sykora, and Hrud of the Eraka.  We have two issues at present.  One, Hrud does not understand the common tradespeech, and we were hoping you might be able to help translate.  Two, Frantiska here seems to have acquired a minor ... affliction."

Winona

Winona notices Lyra's blush, sidles over and gives her a nudge in the side with her elbow (as good as a wink to a blind bat, eh?).

GM

"The Waiting", as it is called, is typical of Tyr's temples. The temple is a traditional cruciform shape [typical of most Roman Catholic cathedrals] (though the Tyrrans would refer to it as "hammer-shaped"), constructed entirely from stone with a facade of white limestone. The roof is flat and crenelated, with manned guard towers at each of the transepts, and the heavy, windowless, iron-reinforced doors give the impression of a fortress more than a place of worship. Narrow hammer-shaped windows, more like arrow slits, line either side of the the nave, letting in very little light. The interior of the narthex is empty and the walls unadorned, save for another pair of large, reinforced doors--though, being the diocesan seat, these doors are bound in gold and have large, golden hammers inlaid in the centers. To either side of the narthex are stairs, leading down.

Beyond the double-doors, is the chapel or sanctuary, which is arrayed like a court-room, with several rows of uncomfortable looking hardwood seats flanking a single aisle. At the back, where the chancel would be in a normal church, is a large, curved bench, with high-backed seats for five judges (priests) behind it. The middle seat, belonging to the Bishop, appears to be carved from gold. In front of the judges' bench, is an elevated, cage-like witness-box, flanked by two tables. Over the witness-box, floating in mid-air, is an over-sized, silver-inlaid hammer, which glows with a brilliant blue-white radiance providing the only light in the room. In the apse, behind the judges' seats, is a large white statue of an old soldier in full armor, his eyes bound to indicate blindness, his left hand holding a set of scales aloft, and his right hand stuck into the mouth of a slavering wolf. The south transept has a table with scribe's implements laid out on it. This being an affluent temple, the north transept is filled with a massive pipe-organ. No other statuary, art, or ornamentation can be seen anywhere in the place.

Currently, through the opened narthex doors, you see some forty or fifty people, a mix of white-robed novices, heavily armored priests, and well-dressed city folk, seated in the pews chanting the evening prayers--the judges' seats are currently empty. Occasionally, one of the petitioners will rise and go to stand in the witness box, the hammer flashing brightly as he or she confesses his transgressions in front of the assembled congregation. The reek of incense hangs in the air, but you see no censers or braziers currently being used, and the organ stands silent.

"Thank you Miss Lyra, I am feeling much better." Brother Rant looks Frantiska up and down, then looks at the pile of hats. "That is quite the affliction you have there. I'm afraid I don't know much about magically replicating headwear."

He then turns to Hrud and gives an odd gesture, swinging both arms wide and bumping his two fists together, "Rahayu sore, Hrud saka Eraka. Aku Bengak-Bengok Harmel, imam saka Tyr ing Cukup, diadopsi saka Angin-Jaran kulawarga," he says in perfectly accented Erakic, "Sami-sami kita kutha. Apa Panjenengan klan?"

Hrud

Fascinated by the architecture and stonework, Hrud pulls his gaze away from the temple and returns the gesture.

"Rahayu sore. Aku ing 'dawa kulo' klan, lan pangarep-arep kanggo bakal bali sedina. Aku nggoleki jawaban saka dewa lan ora bisa bali aku duwe nganti mau."

Frantiska

Frantiska pulls another hat off her head and rubs her forehead aggressively with her other hand. "The hats seem to be a manifestation of a curse that was placed on me by a kobold in the ruins," she says, answering Brother Rant's comment, but clearly talking to Lyra and Winona. "Is there anyone in the temple who might be skilled at curse removal?"

Winona

Winona stops to think, finding it much harder to do as the throbbing in her head increases, "Sister Theymr is able to remove curses. Let's take you down to the dormitories and see if she can help..."

Hrud

Noticing a set up stairs leading up, Hrud asks, "Bisa ndeleng kutha saka gendheng?"

Frantiska

Frantiska looks around at the pile of hats on the floor, "Thank you, Miss, but first, I need to see to my horse, and also, what should be done about these?"

Lyra

Lyra looks at the growing pile of hats.  "I can help clean up."

GM

Brother Rant looks where Hrud is looking, trying to figure out why he is asking to go up, since there is no roof access from here, "Kula nyuwun pangapunten, kanca. Sing gendheng mati watesan."

"I'll take care of the horses, Lady Sykora, and then I believe I will give your Eraka friend a tour." He bows to the ladies, "You probably want to make sure those hats are destroyed, in case the curse is something that can be spread." You see a vein begin to stand-out on his forehead.

"Kakang Hrud, aja duwe Panggonan kanggo amben mudhun kanggo wengi?"

One of the two novices accompanying Wonina pipes up, "We can probably burn the hats in the fireplace in the dormitory. I'll run and tell Sister Theymr to expect you." All too eagerly, she dashes down the stairs to the left.

Hrud

"Kanthi jaran." Hrud says with a shrug.

GM

"Sampeyan bisa turu karo jaran yen pengin, utawa aku bisa kurban sing amben yen seneng. Teka karo aku, aku bakal nuduhake endi jaran kandhang punika." Rant heads outside, and carefully approaches the two horses.

Hrud

"Aku ora nyana kuwi loman. Matur nuwun." Hrud says to Brother Rant, following him.

GM

Brother Rant takes Thistledown's reins and leads Hrud and the horses across the square to the stables, which are tucked in the park half-way between the temples of Tempus, Tyr, and Gond, and shared by the three. The stables are large and sturdy-looking, with walls made from stones salvaged from the ruins and stalls for some two hundred animals, more than half of which are full. "Iki stabil jaran diwenehake minangka layanan dening Dhéwan lan candi. Punika biasane digunakake dening tentara Tempus, nanging sawetara Tyr kang paladins tetep jaran kene uga."

Brother Rant finds two empty stalls between a pair of heavy war horses, making sure that Thistledown is situated beside a mare, so that the smell of the filly will not drive any stallions to distraction. "Dadi enom kanggo wis ditunggangi limang atus liga," he says in a soothing voice, more to the horse than anyone else. He brushes down her coat (she doesn't seem to mind that it is the fourth time that day), and shows Hrud where the fodder for the animals is kept.

Hrud

"Candhi perdagangan - pangan? peralatan?" asks Hrud. There is an audible growl from his stomach.

GM

"Aja padha sumelang ing bab perdagangan. Yen sampeyan lagi kanca saka Lyra lan dheweke perusahaan, aku arep priksa manawa sampeyan njaluk meal apik bengi iki." Rant finishes tending to the horses and shows Hrud how to lock the stalls. "Yen wis perlu barang liyane, Aku suggest sing mriksa pasar mudhun dening katharine. Padha biasane mbukak ing jam iki."

Hrud

Using his bedroll as a sack, Hrud bundles up his spoils from the unexpected encounter with the Kobolds out in the slums. Then, following his nose, makes his way down to the temple's kitchen and pantry. Aware, at least in part, of the stares he draws, Hrud assembles a modest meal from the food he finds lying out - hoping not to inadvertently offend anyone in the process and quietly wonders off.

Hrud meanders through the temple, taking care not to blunder into the sanctuary. Finally, he finds himself back at the entrance. As he starts to make his way to the front door, something in the corner catches his eye.

The barbarian walks over and picks up a frumpy, red-brown hat with a single drooping white feather stuck in the band.

This was the elf woman's. It must have gotten kicked out of the way. Moments pass as he contemplates what to do with it. Give it back to Frantiska? She seemed to have quiet a few of them, and didn't really seem happy about it. Would she mind if Hrud took it? On The Ride, when things were left on the plain, it was assumed their owner didn't want them anymore, else they would have taken better care of it.

The Eraka didn't have much use for headgear, outside of ceremonial headdresses or the odd helmet - often incorporating bits taken from a notable kill. This hat didn't look like it had any religious significance, and it certainly wouldn't do anything to keep his skull from being split. Hrud wondered if it would be worth anything.

Looking at the food in his left hand and the sack of plundered weapons at his feet. Hrud needed a free hand. He raised the hat to his head ... Nah, he just couldn't see himself wearing it. His fellow Eraka would mock him mercilessly (well, /more/ mercilessly than normal) if they saw him wearing such a thing. Into the bag it went.

Making way out of the temple, Hrud tried to stay close to any walls or buildings facing the river as he made his way (again, following his nose) to the docks. The barbarian had encountered several small village ports along the rivers that fed The Ride. The docks of Phlan smelled like all of them put together. The occasional click of an arrow hitting stone or thunking into wood told him the orcs were still across the river, but in the deepening twilight, it was obvious they were firing blindly.

Rounding a corner, Hrud found a number of storefronts. Many of them were dark, one sounded like a tavern, and there, on the end, what he hoped was the trader that Brother Rant had spoken of. Entering the store, he found a sour-faced man sitting behind a counter counting money - or he had been, until an unexpected visitor had him hastily shoving the coins into a box and down behind the counter.

The man asked Hrud a question - probably wanted to know what he wanted, despite not understanding the words. The barbarian walked to the counter and upended his bedroll.

GM

The man behind the counter, looking more than a little terrified, eyes the pile of weapons that has been dumped in front of him. Though the large man's intent seems obvious the man looks bewildered as he waves a hand towards the case of, now slightly less than fresh, fish still remaining of his day's wares. He babbles out something, then, seeing the lack of recognition on the big man's face, sighs. He pulls a dozen silver coins from a pouch at his waist, not touching the box behind the counter, and lays them on the counter, pushing them gingerly towards the barbarian.

Hrud

Careful not to betray his excitement at making the most money on a sale that he's ever made, Hrud scoops the coins into his pouch, rolls up his bedroll and makes his way back to the temple. Hrud wonders, as yet another arrow clatters above him in the night, maybe it's possible to make a living at killing evil creatures and selling their belongings ...

Between this, the free meal, and the offer of a real bed, this has been a very good day - kobold kidnapping and elven neck-punching aside.





Meanwhile Downstairs...

Lyra

Arms loaded with hats, Lyra proceeds to the women's dormitory.

Winona

Winona puts her arm through Frantiska's in a much-too-familiar way and leads her down the stairs to the women's dormitories. "Don't worry Franny, I'm sure SIster Theymr will be able to get that dreadful thing off your head. Then we'll get you a nice meal and a bed for the night, and I'm sure you'll feel right at rain in the morning." She stops and leans against the wall, massaging her temples. "Seriously, lets get that damned contemptible thing off of your head before mine explodes..."

Frantiska

After the recent attempted horse-thievery, Frantiska briefly considers going after Brother Rant to take care of Thistledown, but then realizes that if anyone in this town is to be considered trustworthy, the Tyrrans would be the ones to trust with her beloved companion. Resigned to the fact that she has more immediate problems to deal with--in the form of a magically induced fashion faux-pas, a breach of etiquette, and a potential public health risk--she allows herself to be lead downstairs. Even allows herself to be called 'Franny' without comment. She is, however, completely taken aback by the near-opulent comfort of the dormitories--nothing to compare with her experience as a favorite of the queen of Aglarond, but far, far superior to the austerity she had expected from what is considered the strictest religious order in all the Realms.

Once in the dormitories, she immediately collapses to a sitting position on one of the beds, figuring that for this one, brief moment in her life, she can allow the circumstances to dispense with formalities. Once sitting, she clutching at her head as if trying to hold her brains in.

Lyra

Lyra rather unceremoniously dumps the armload of hats near the fireplace, and goes to check on Amara and the items she left here earlier.

GM

Lyra finds Amara fast asleep, the doll, Susalia, clutched tightly to her chest, its eyes seeming to follow everyone around the room. Lyra's gear is still right where she left it, though the books lie open on the next bed over, layed out as if someone were trying to read both simultaneously.

Pre-warned of the situation, the white-haired Sister Theymr comes bustling over as soon as Winona leads Frantiska in. "I'm Theymr," she says to Frantiska, "let me take a look at you..." She plucks a hat off of Frantiska's head, turning it over in her hands, and paying only moderate attention to the one that appears in its place. "Kobolds, eh? This hat's actually much nicer than I would have expected." She tosses the hat into the fireplace. She says a brief prayer to Tyr, reaches out, and plucks the hat off of Frantiska's head again, tossing this one into the fire as well. This time, no new hat appears to replace it. "There, all done." She looks at the three girls appraisingly, then motions for two of the novices. "Flax, Sarah, please start laying out supper. And then, I think, these girls should get some rest."

Lyra

Lyra will give Susalia a slight nod of greeting, and collect the books before setting her backpack and the box down next to the rest of her things.

GM

Theymr and another novice begin tossing the remaining hats in the fireplace. About 10 minutes later, Sister Sarah and Sister Flax return carrying two large trays, one piled with meats, cheeses, bread, and fruits, the other bearing four large pitchers of wine. They set them on the table and begin spreading tablecloths and laying out some dozen or so place-settings from a cupboard at the end of the room. Perhaps more important than the food, by the time they return your collective headaches are starting to feel much better.

Winona

Winona's head is starting to feel better, but she figures a stiff drink or two won't hurt. When Sarah and Flax are finished, she sits down at the table and immediately pours herself a glass of wine, downing it in one gulp. She adjusts her glasses and watches the other sisters begin making their way in for dinner. "Lyra, Franny, come have a seat. No sense going to sleep on an empty stomach."

Frantiska

Frantiska breathes a sigh of relief when the hat is removed. She sits a few minutes longer until the headache has subsided, then walks over to where Lyra is sitting. "Miss Beragaion, may I leave my things here? I want to go check on Thistledown before turning in for the night." She sets her bow, quiver, pick-axe, and bag on the bed next to Lyra's. Before heading upstairs, she checks the edge on the sword belted to her shin, but prays she won't need it until after she has had a nice long sleep.

Lyra

Lyra looks up at Frantiska.  "That's fine.  Watch out for stray arrows while you're outside."

Sitting on the bed, she rubs her temples and looks over at the sleeping Amara and closes her eyes.  For a moment, she almost seems to have fallen asleep herself.

Frantiska

Frantiska heads outside, pausing briefly to ask one of the akolytes for directions to the stables. She passes Hrud and Rant on their way back to the temple, giving them a polite nod, but does not pause in her mission. When she reaches the stables, she makes a bee-line for Thistledown, smiles appreciatively at the care that has been taken with the horse's grooming, feeding, and security, then throws her arms around the filly's neck. "Did we do the right thing in coming here?" she whispers.

Lyra

After a few minutes, Lyra snaps back to her senses with a small jerk, looking around the room.  She rubs here eyes, stretches, and takes a place at the table, heaping a plate with meat, cheese, and fruit with a small portion of bread.  As an afterthought, she pours a glass of wine.  It's been a long day.