Blaze steps up to the bar and catches the bartender's eye. He sits next to Lianna. "I followed a similar strategy and reasoning. By the way, my statement concerning our being in opposition was meant to be an 'ice-breaker' joke." A noise that may or may not be a chuckle rumbles out of him. "It was, perhaps, not a very good one." He fishes for a coin to pay for the drink. "You said that you were lost. What are you looking for? I have lived in this city for quite some time. Perhaps I can help?"
Blaze looks back at Lianna in surprise. "Our meeting is indeed serendipitous, then. I, too, have recently decided to...reorder my life and priorities." He wonders privately if the moment would be enhanced if he had a drink to take a long, thoughtful pull from.
The Drawf takes Blaze's money (4 cp) and returns with a mug of ale for Lianna. "Will the two of you be looking for a room for the night as well? We're filling up quick what with the races tomorrow."
The thief, light on his feet, dances out of harms way as the two elven men attempt to strike out at him. He curses at their relentlessness and spits on the ground in front of them.
The old man continues to move towards the scuffle, a little slower than he otherwise might have in years past.
Rd 2
Akasha, Thief, Vannevar, Silian
Aeyra strolls back to the inn, smelling the fresh air, cataloging the orphans...normal things like that.
Aeyra sees a red-headed elven woman sitting next to a warforged at the bar.
Seeing the two odd characters sitting together Aeyra strolls her way over. She sits down next to them, ordering a light wine. "Marvelous color of red that is, I've tried something myself but it didn't work out very well."
Akasha breaks into a run, dashing after the thief as the zips pat the elves attempts to stop him.
Finding himself suddenly boxed in, the thief gives up on the idea of getting away and instead lashes out at Vannevar.
But the elven bodyguard's armor is able to absorb any damage done. For all his effort, he is rewarded with a fist buried in his gut and before he can recover from the first blow, a second catches him on his jaw bringing him to his knees. His dagger clatters to the cobblestone along with the old man's coin-purse. He holds his hands up above his head a sign of surrender, or perhaps a reflex to attempt to ward off further blows.
In case no mercy shall be granted...
Akasha walks past the two elves to the kneeling thief and yanks his head back by the hair.
"You like picking on old men? If I catch you thieving around here again I'll cut off your thumbs, do you understand"
Intimidate.
Aeyra gives a little hrumph. "I tried alchemy, weirdest reaction though, only effected this portion of my hair. I suppose trading hair might be beneficial for both of us: I want the color and you want to remain a little quieter since you're an outcast." She sips her drink, acting as if what she said is perfectly normal conversation with a complete stranger.
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Vannevar picks up the coin purse and peers condescendingly at the thug. "You should listen to the lady, for her offer is much kinder than what I would suggest. For disgracing the young lord, I would have removed something more personal to you."
He moves to the old man and silently offers him the coin.
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Silian chuckles, brushing the hair back from his face, the traces of his dragonmark vivid against his pale neck. "Giving up so easily? How predictably... human of you. I leave your fate in her capable hands, but believe me, if she chooses to take drastic actions the guards will never hear your scream."
"One rarely chooses to be an outcast, and when they do it is only a facade. You can be an outcast and not go anywhere. But you wear a sword and a bow you hardly use, but you reply quickly to rude banter so you have a sharp mind. Since you have a good mind and have well made weapons that you hardly use I can only assume you were born among warriors who were not thrilled that your particular talent was magic. Therefore, an outcast before you left." She cocks her head, as if saying Tell me I'm wrong.
Between the sound thrashing he just received and Akasha's threats, the man is clearly shaken. He's too afraid to respond and instead attempts to nod, only to grimace when the motion further strains his neck and pulls his hair.
The old man makes his way over and retrieves his coin-purse before looking up at his three saviors. "Well then, hows about I buy you all a drink to say thank you the right way?"
~~~~~
Lianna is able to clearly remember seeing Aeyra when she first went upstairs, and how swiftly she returned before leaving the inn for a time.
The old man grins and leads the way - slowly - to The Cracked Mirror inn where he holds the door open for those who have followed him. Upon entering the inn, you find that it is quite crowded. People from all over are chattering away over drinks and discussing the upcoming races. Between the elven women and the warforged at the bar, you are able to see a dwarven man who smiles and nods at you in greeting.
Akasha smiles at the old man's offer and joins the others on the trip to the Cracked mirror, taking in the ambiance with a grin.
"See? Keen mind and all that. Well let's just say I did my job very well. Ah but I've been ignoring your friend! Mr.Tincan, how do you do?" She offers a hand to the construct at the bar, scrutinizing him closely. "You sir, are an entirely different matter. Strong handshake, slab face that tells little emotion, and a stiff walk...you sir, are a construct!" She smiles dashingly as if it was the most ingenious deduction she has ever had.
Blaze asks the bartender "Is there a fee to remain here in the common room? Although I do not require sleep, I would like to remain in close proximity to my new friend and gambling partner so that we might observe the races together." He turns to Lianna. "That is, if you have no objection."
When the second elf arrives, he watches their banter with interest. He is aware of the humanoid obsession with personal appearance, even if he doesn't fully understand it. "I do moderately well - thank you for asking." he replies to Aeyra and stands to bow slightly. "Although I believe your tone was jovial, I should warn you that some of my brethren would find the appellation 'Mr. Tincan' to be offensive. I will save you further embarrassment by sharing my name - Blaze - with you. I invite you to use it freely. Are you also here for the Race?"
"You do moderately well, well I suppose that is moderately good. Blaze, I like that name. Don't imagine you smoke, do you?" She pulls out a long, thin, brown cigar and lights it. "Yes, the Race. I hope the underdog claims the prize, the aftermath always makes an interesting story."
Mrogab contemplates Blaze's question for a moment before answering, "No charge if you plan to buy drinks throughout the night, otherwise a sliver - half the price of a room."
He then turns his attention to the newcomers as the old man approaches the bar. The old man turns to Akasha, Vannevar, and Silian, "What'll ya have?"
After her conversation with Blaze dies down Aeyra takes her drink to a corner table and pulls out a formula book where the turns to a page with several alembics and panacea's on it. She gets deeply drawn into it.
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Silian is a lithe elf, dressed mostly in hues of blacks and violets. His thigh-high riding boots are well worn, and the purple cloak draped over his shoulders has seen many miles. His amethyst eyes gleam in the smoke of the room, and when he pulls back his pale violet hair, a telltale design in blues and greens can be seen emblazoned upon his left cheek and jaw. The only contrast to his dusky ensemble is the tattered tawny-furred cuirass he wears.
Aerya has a sly, curious look on her face as she reads her book. She wears a black leather outfit underneath her heavy cloak. She has dark hair with streaks of red and deep eyes that never stop moving, but her mouth always has a hint of amusement in it. She is of pure elven ancestry but her face almost appears as that of a half elf, her only exception being her prominent ears.
"Ale is fine." Akasha replies to the bartender.