"Well...this place shifts...and I don't particularly like the look of some of these people anyway, so since the bar remains the one true constant, we will all head there when we are done with getting some information."
In Silvertail's investigation, through the mists and cloying vapor, many unusual a creature will make themselves known as she moves about. She will see a duck with a sassy attitude and physical form almost humanoid. He drinks a drink and is chatting most irritatingly with some fellow space ducks. They seem too busy to notice her, but definitely might seem delicious to a true fox's eyes. She will then run across a strange man in a hooded cloak seemingly having no legs. Just looking at him inspires nightmarish thoughts but she manages to ask about the woman they are after. Without a word, he points through the mists. In that direction, Silvertail finds that coming out of the mist at her is a tall man with chains about his neck and spikes gouged into his flesh on a collar. He is freshly bleeding there as he stands mightily. Violence is in his eyes, as if the fox had tread upon the sanctity of something she shouldn't have. From behind him in the mists a voice calls out in warning to the goliath.
"No...not this one."
The voice drips with a hypnotic quality befitting one of her kind. If Silvertail draws nearer, she may be unsure if she is in a dream or reality, but she will find the air around here has the scent of blood and iron, that is certain. Every sense in her fox mind is giving off warning signals. The husky voice is soon matched to a sight of a woman, dignified, poised, radiating authority. Her skin is pale and lifeless. Her peerless black, form-fitting dress is the intensity of the darkest night and steals into the heart what the allurement of humankind would look like at its peak. To a fox, this may mean little, but still, there is a strange pull regardless; yet at the same time restrained, as if the greatest devil in the room would be to scare off the little fox or warp her mind with whatever power resonates here.
"I am told you are looking for someone. A friend of mine."
There is a delightful laugh from her, showing the fangs of a vampire as clear as day. She doesn't even try to hide them.
"You seek those who commune with the spirits."
Despite the very few people that Silvertail had asked about the witch, Euryris, none had really seemed to show an interest in potentially telling this mystery woman that someone was looking. How she knows is a mystery.
"The large fiery gentlemen is a fire genie, called an efreet." As Josten spoke of slaves, the large man's features darkened slightly in contempt. "and that particular efreet is a prince to the current Sultan of the City of Brass, Marrake al-Sidan al Hariq ben Lazan. If you are looking to make powerful contacts, few are more connected that he. But be cautious, the efreet prize beauty in their slaves, so you and Silvertail may wish to use a mediary to beg an audience."
Aleksandros walks calmly towards the efreeti prince carefully preparing his words , mentally buffering himself against any heat with fire resist 20, stopping before his skeletal guards and hoping the fiery being would acknowledge him. "Mighty prince of the Brass City. I am Aleksandros of Olympus, mountain of the gods. I am far from home and seek beneficial connections with those that are most knowledgeable about this place and the many worlds it is connected to." He hoped that his own background was impressive enough to gain the prince's attention.
His immense physical strength seemed to lend a certain weight to his words that a more diminutive speaker would not have.
Josten leaves the table and waits a respectable distance from The Starwind table to acknowledge the tall, red-headed warrior.
Silvertail is instantly wary, though the fact that she's still in the inn keeps her from being too worried. Still, her tails are low and fanned out behind her as she responds.
"If you're referring to Euryris, yes, there's something I was hoping to discuss with her," she states simply, looking up at the woman.
The mysterious woman had spoken to the man in chains in the common tongue earlier, but as the fox's senses dull from her fear of the unknown, it is clear the woman is speaking in the very language Silvertail was born with, as though she herself was a fox. Whether or not this is magic, doesn't appear clear. No spell was cast that the animal could see.
"I am indeed referring to the one who wears the world on her face. In colors of blue and teal no less. Yes...Euryris. She is good to share a drink with. I could connect you..." she leaves her statement hanging a moment, as if considering the idea, or perhaps receiving some information that distracts her. In any case, a moment later, her eyes refocus on the fox and she states, "After all, I am one with many threads tangled throughout the multiverse. You may call me Dalvatia Bloodmourne of House Dimir, Ravnica, miss Silvertail." She flourishes her long black hair in a manner that almost seems fox-like as if to say "welcome", were it a tail.
Although she is definitely a larger predator, she doesn't seem to be in competition with the animal. In fact, she has all she needs. On the table before her is a tall glass with blood in it. From the aroma, it is strongly spiced and a mixed drink of some kind. A slender finger plays with the rim of the glass as she waits to hear if Silvertail will greet her in return.
After the group splits up to scour the tavern for information, Thal and Eli join their sister for breakfast. As Josten approaches, Windchime bustles over carrying a massive tray laden with food. Delicious smelling french toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, and of course, a massive pot of coffee.
Morriana smiles at Josten's question. "We know of her, but not where she resides nor how to find her. However, there are those elsewhere within the Inn who might be able to assist you."
Josten bows, then departs. "Thank you, Morriana. Thank you, ladies."
"Not all who have jobs posted to the book have come to the Inn. Whether it's a trick of the book, some ability Mitchifer possesses, the powers of the Owner, or something else, when those who have a job, their quest appears in the book. Obviously, many have come here to personally make an entry into the Book of Jobs, but not all have to." Thal explains to Britta. "As for Euryris, I have heard of her, but I don't know how to find her. There might be others within the Inn who do however."
"Thank you," she voices to Thalyssra. She does find it strange. Perhaps when they've needed a job done in her world, someone from another world has shown up? Would she have known otherwise? The Empire used mercenaries for various dark dealings. The First Order was little different. What if one of them was an interplanar traveler?
As Thalyssra heads to join her sisters, she looks over to Josten as he bows. The Godling bothers her, and she isn't sure why. Her eyes travel to Aleksandros, who has ventured bravely over to speak with the slaver.
"Okay...what to do? I suppose I'll go to the rat."
She looks for the rat she saw earlier with its brain out. Perhaps she will be able to speak to it?
"I am indeed referring to the one who wears the world on her face. In colors of blue and teal no less. Yes...Euryris. She is good to share a drink with. I could connect you..." she leaves her statement hanging a moment, as if considering the idea, or perhaps receiving some information that distracts her. In any case, a moment later, her eyes refocus on the fox and she states, "After all, I am one with many threads tangled throughout the multiverse. You may call me Dalvatia Bloodmourne of House Dimir, Ravnica, miss Silvertail." She flourishes her long black hair in a manner that almost seems fox-like as if to say "welcome", were it a tail.
If anything the... being seeming to subconsciously mimic her own vulpine mannerisms sets Silvertail yet more on edge, even more than hearing her name without saying it. If this Dalvatia had wanted to prove herself knowledgeable, she'd certainly accomplished that.
Still, best to be polite. She waves her tails back and says, "I am Silvertail, yes. It seems I need no introduction, but greetings nonetheless."
"Now, you say you could help me contact Euryris? Is there something you wish in return?"
As the group splits up to look for information Zeran tries to think of who to follow. The godling that is a walking/talking charm spell? The talking fox? Why would someone wear the world on their face?
He notices Britta turn to go and grabs his staff. "Do you mind if I tag along with you? I might not be much help, but I'll try to keep up."
As she is asked what she wishes in return, Dalvatia responds, "Oh yes! There is. The price is your friendship, my dear...and information. Tell me what you hear. Tell me who you meet down on Faerun. Tell me the tale of what goods you find, no matter their importance or lack thereof, and describe for me the places you see on your journey. Tell me everything. If a room was hot or cold. Tell me if you wandered in the snows under a moonlit night. Everything..." she drives the point home, showing a glimmer in her eye that seems to hint at what the thrill of finding new bits of knowledge means to her. "You and your little friends will become my talebearers. That is the price, for I cannot abide in boredom, and you will lift me from my sullen prison with your words; words that will fill this hedonistic soul of mine..." She then shrugs with a dismissing hand, "...and you never know when information can come in handy."
She looks off to the side a moment.
"I know you can't speak for the others, as they are not here, but you can speak for yourself."
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As Zeran grabs his staff and asks her if she will accompany him, she nods.
"Of course. I could use a useless person on my hip," she smirks, showing some light banter in the form of a joke, since he himself stated he wouldn't be much use.
Silvertail is far from certain about this deal, but it seems, if not safe, at least fair enough. "A small bit of useful knowledge for a great deal of information which may or may not be of use? I suppose it's a fair trade," she says aloud, with a swish of her tails. "I can agree to that bargain, though as you say I cannot speak for anyone else."
"Don't worry..." she states in a sickly sweet kind of way. "...I'm not seeking to betray you. Consider us aligned. Do well by me, and I'll do well by you. I can be, a friend" With a defining swish of her hand, accentuating the beginning of her statement, she begins to speak, "You go in seek of the Wychlaran, meaning 'wise old women'. They are mask wearers, said to wear the world on their faces. 'Asatheirr' the masks are called, which translates to the 'face-veils of the Wychlaran Rashemaar'. As you might have guessed, if she is a Wychlaran, Rashemaar then is the bloodline origin of her coven. You are to go to Rashemen then, a country of bloodthirsty Beserkers in the Northeast of Faerun."
Then in almost a break from her intense gaze, she begins to recite a poem:
"To the north of Thay lies the cold beauty of Rashemen, land of berserkers...Their land is a place both old and mysterious, harboring many strange spirits and magical places."
So charismatic is it given, that it could grace the courts of any keep's throne.
"Be wary, and do not underestimate the witches. They are known to have considerable power and their ability to curse those who offend them is well-spoken of. Be on your best behavior my Silvertail. I can't have anything happen to you..."
She then explains further:
"Within Rashemen, you will find the Urlingwood, a forest of impressive wildness and age."
Once again, she begins quoting what Silvertail can guess are ancient writers who have perhaps spoken of these places?
"Stay out of it. That is the exclusive domain of the witches, and outsiders aren't welcome. Most of them live in Urling city, but they go there to perform their ceremonies and rituals. The witches are not bad women, mind you...they help keep our land free. But they value their privacy and anonymity, and are quick to punish anyone who violates it.
"Into this forest, do not tread, for your intended lies in the bosom of the sanctuary town of Urling City. Nestled on the southern side of the forest. There she lingers, in mask of blue and teal, bearing a sleeve of tattoos down her right arm. Often, Silvertail, a journey to the Green Chapel Inn will yield results, given that the hour is in your favor."
Leaning back in her chair, it appears she is finished. The woman holds out her hand and a mysterious man dressed in black and royal blue comes up a moment later with a script on a piece of paper. He bears the mark of a guild on his shoulder. His face is obscured. He clearly has more interest in remaining unknown than the vampire. She is essentially flaunting herself in openness. It appears the man is a scribe, for in elegant hand-written on some kind of leather are Silvertail's instructions. Dalvatia returns to her normal poised form and flourishes out the scrap of leather for her to take. As the man returns to the mist, it parts way, showing a series of fellow clansmen, mostly waiting for an order from Dalvatia. In their hands are weapons and not one of their faces is recognizable, being hidden behind masks.
"So your other companions can read and understand, though I hope your memory serves you well enough to remember all these details, I'd rather make use of it for returning what I'm owed."
"With that, I will bid you farewell, my newfound friend. And remember what I have said. As tempting as it may be to wander into the forest, do not."
The goliath stomps his foot as if to signal that is the end of the meeting. He does not seem pleased, and his face has not shown an ounce of pleasure at Silvertail being there.
As Josten turns to walk back to the others the godling considers what he might have heard about Faerun.
Silvertail listens carefully to Dalvatia's instructions, though she's glad when offered the written form. She waves a tail at the note and it vanishes into her storage.
"Thank you, Dalvatia, I shall remember this. Until we meet again."
She waves her tails in farewell as she turns to leave, heading back to the agreed meeting place with the others. She ignores the guard--here in the inn, she has no fear of violence, but she still fears Dalvatia for what she knows, and what Silvertail might have missed about the interaction.
Whereas before, when Britta first noticed the rat there was but one, there are now half a dozen of them. One of them stands out as a bit bigger, which the officer of the First Order can assume is the original. When her and Zeran approach their table, the six rats say in unison. "We've been expecting you."
To pretty much anyone else from Zeran's world, or any other normal galaxy, this would be quite abnormal. She's dealt with hive-minded creatures before in the Taurill and the T'zaki. This behavior doesn't unnerve her in the least.
"If they've been expecting us, perhaps they can read minds? Perhaps they can share minds?"
"Yes, I've been meaning to come over for some time. Can you help us?"
Zeran stays with Britta as she approaches a table with six rats. When they focus on them and speak in unison he considers casting a detection spell to see if he can discern, and possibly understand an enchantment of illusion? But she immediately speaks with them as if such things are normal on her plane, er Galaxy?
He stays back to observe.
Silvertail muses on her encounter with Dalvatia as she waits for the others. In particular is her insistence on wanting to be Silvertail's friend.
In her over a century of observing 'civilization', she's seen much of power. People who commanded armies. Mages of great skill. Warriors with enchanted blades. And she's noticed one thing about them all.
The ones who prospered instead of being brought down... were the ones who had made the right friends. There were, she thought, many types of power, and sometimes the most subtle ones were the strongest.
It was annoying, however, how hard it was to make friends just because someone would be useful in the future.
Sits at the table while the others move about, still not completely feeling safe in this odd place, and wanting to avoid conflict.
While Josten ruminates on what he knows about Faerun , the big red haired man walks back to the table.
The two skeletal guards cross their glaives in an x formation, blocking Aleksandros from coming too close. Even still, the oppressive heat radiating the efreet noble is strong enough to cause the godling to have a bit of difficulty breathing.
"You are bold, little mortal, to come and seek an audience with the prince of the City of Brass. Tell me, why should the mighty Apaosha bother to respond to you?" The lamia states blunty, and it's clear she is no mere slave, but rather a partner to the genie. Perhaps all those with him are thus?
The Forgotten Realms is one of the most well known of the Material Plane worlds, a place where magic is governed by a force known as The Weave that's watched over by a deity and her followers. It is a world known to have a very long and diverse history of risen and fallen empires of various people, creatures, cultures, off-world interlopers, and many magical traditions and methods of magic used by the creatures of the world. It has several continental regions, but the most popular and well known is a land mass called Faerun.
The biggest city on Faerun is Waterdeep, also known as the City of Splendors or Crown of the North, which is considerably larger in both size and population than Absalom. It is home to all manner of peoples, races, and ancestries, and of people who run the gamut of morality. However, it is more aligned with the forces of righteous and peace than any others.
Josten also recalls hearing tales from his parents, of something known as the Time of Troubles. This period of only a few short months saw the multitude of deities cast down from the planes and heavens, forced to walk among their mortal followers.
To pretty much anyone else from Zeran's world, or any other normal galaxy, this would be quite abnormal. She's dealt with hive-minded creatures before in the Taurill and the T'zaki. This behavior doesn't unnerve her in the least.
"If they've been expecting us, perhaps they can read minds? Perhaps they can share minds?"
"Yes, I've been meaning to come over for some time. Can you help us?"
"While we can read minds, and it is easy for us to pick up stray thinking, we try not to actively intrude on other's thoughts. What do you need help with?" The largest rat asks, speaking in it's own, singular voice.
Josten sits down back at the table next to Ms. Montez. "Well, The Starwind sister were of little help. I am familiar with Faerun but I'll tell everyone when they return. Mind if I play until they return?"
The red-haired man snaps his fingers casting summon instrument and an acoustic guitar materializes in his hands.
Josten plays a lovely tune.
"We are tasked to find a witch who goes by the name of Euryris. Have you heard of her, met her, or know where she'd be? We also could use what door she uses..." Britta asks, looking still at all five of the rats in their own turn despite the main one only talking. It is rude to ignore a hivemind just because one is speaking, a mistake perhaps some inexperienced people would make. "I came to you first as your brains are so large and pronounced. Clearly, a species as yours is immensely intelligent and a good source for information, even if you all may not know this particular person." She takes a chance that complimenting their most pronounced feature is good manners.
While talking to her, the rats may feel intently at ease around her. Many other beings often have deceitful thoughts subconsciously. It can't be helped by people sometimes, even if they choose to not lie. The rats don't feel that with her. However, even if they do try to actively detect what she is thinking, it will lead them in ways that will speak to the truth of her every word. Even whatever methods they use to tell her alignment it would be impossible to tell whether she was a liar. So powerful is the innocence of her eyes, that she just doesn't seem like the type to give false information.
The rat who has been speaking closes its eyes momentarily, then replies "We know a great many people, Britta of the First Order, including Euryris. However another has already gained the information you seek. She has yet to come here in person, so your other question is invalid."
"Oh...well, my apologies. I do not mean to waste your time. If another has found this information, I'll seek them out. If I could, for future reference, what are your names? What may I call you?"
After they reply. "If you are ever in need of a good poison or alchemical service, I will do my best to facilitate for all," she states, using "all" to indicate any in the hivemind.
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A deep quiet rumble echoes like a distant thunderstorm. A pause holds the room a moment before the quiet conversations picks back up and breaks the tension.
"Seems like they found another beastie for the arena." mentions one of the servers picking up drinks from the center isle.
Currently contenders are broken up into three tiers, Mortals, Masters, and the Transcendent.
Mortals should be a good sparring partners for non-gestalt or non-combat gestalt character.
Masters will offer a true challenge.
The Transcendent are for the true masochists, and potentially small group fights.
The arena is a demi-plane with special rules, allowing for true sight from the crowd, and managing to pluck you from death before you fall. Be aware that others may discover your tricks, if you're not careful.
Ask for Linxx Koldrish the dragonborn if you're interested.
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Following the rumble by several minutes a heavy set (Argonian? Dragonborn? Gorn?) woman stomps in and makes a beeline for the counter. Her steps underscore a deep weight that still seems impressive even accounting for her size. The passing flickering from the table lights reveal her scarred, jagged scales to not be black, but rather a deep sapphire.
As if by magic, a heavy wooden mug appears on the counter and is immediately scooped and downed by the woman. Anyone paying attention may notice that she carries no weapons, but seems to wickedly dangerous regardless. Bandages cover various vulnerable areas and animal leathers seem to cover the rest.
She lets a content whoop, before sliding the mug back towards Mitchifer. Looking around, she takes in the observable crowd. "We have some fresh blood", speaking up "HEY! Remember, don't spill blood up here. If you want to get fiesty, talk to me. I'm Linxx Koldrish, and I'll show the the inside of our pit. I brought some fresh meat that raring to break your virginity, if you're looking for a good time."
Finding another mug within reach, she starts in on this one a little more carefully, as she continues surveilling the room for prospects.
Silvertail's ears swivel towards the shouting reptilian. She flicks her tails in their direction.
"Since it seems likely we'll be getting in combat, I would think it wise to get a feel for one anothers' abilities in a situation where dying is disallowed," she comments to those group members not currently out hunting for information. "Though I did get information on our job, if we're all ready to hear it...?"
Josten stops his performance sadly. As Silvertail rejoins the table, the godling adds, "And I have some information about Faerun, so we can both share."
The red-haired man sighed to himself. "Well, I suppose it would be good opportunity to see each others talents. Well, talents that can be seen in public. I shall get in a match or two after we've gathered our information."
From the opposite side of the common room, Windchime applauds happily, porcelain clinking against porcelain.
As Josten summons his guitar, and beings to play, Morriana smiles brightly. "Ooh! Stairway to Heaven, a classic! Mind if I provide vocals?" Assuming the godling agrees, she lifts her voice in song.
Once it is obvious that Britta is done talking with the brain-rats Zeran approaches. "Very interesting. And you handled that interaction incredibly well. Have you encountered such evolved murinae before? I find this place fascinating. I'm actually fine going to look for the mentioned artifact if everyone else seems to be going. But I also hope to get back here!"
Seeing (and hearing) the heavy set lizard person Zeran just shakes his head. An arena? Well, some would consider that to be entertaining.... He almost misses Silvertail's comments about the job. "Information? I'm ready to hear whatever you've found."
Looking at Josten he asks, "What sort of talents are you looking for? I can use a little magic, but the folks around here are almost all more interesting than me."
"No," she briefly answers Zeran after learning the rat's names and bidding them farewell. "Not these particular types. I have experienced those with hive minds, or shared minds before. I had no idea going up to them though, but when they spoke in unison, I assumed..."
She shrugs and looks about the inn as Zeran states he wishes he can come back.
"I think some doors do work and some don't after you go through them. There is a chance we will not be able to, but I'm sure we can find a way back somehow. Just be ready for anything going through a door. I don't know what is on the other side."
Once they get back to the bar, she looks at Josten. Having heard his song while playing, she has to comment.
"That was a weird song you played. Weird in maybe an okay way..." There is a smirk on her face. She's used to different styles, but it was enjoyable to some degree. "What is that you used to play it?"
When they consider the arena, she shrugs.
"I'm not interested in showing off, and much of my fighting style involves poisoning you or any number of dastardly moves to incapacitate you. I doubt you will very much want to experience it. That said, if the unit here is in agreement, I'll do it..."
As Josten summons his guitar, and beings to play, Morriana smiles brightly. "Ooh! Stairway to Heaven, a classic! Mind if I provide vocals?" Assuming the godling agrees, she lifts her voice in song.
The red-haired bard quietly nods as he provides the music to Morriana's song.
After the song, Josten smiles. "Well done, Morriana. That was lovely."Looking at Josten he asks, "What sort of talents are you looking for? I can use a little magic, but the folks around here are almost all more interesting than me."
Josten explains, I am not looking for any talents. I'm just going off what Lady Silvertail said. But I believe the more martial of us," Josten makes a sideways glance at Aleksandros, "might enjoy the distraction."
Once they get back to the bar, she looks at Josten. Having heard his song while playing, she has to comment.
"That was a weird song you played. Weird in maybe an okay way..." There is a smirk on her face. She's used to different styles, but it was enjoyable to some degree. "What is that you used to play it?"
Josten grins. "That was a lovely Material Plane song called Stairway to Heaven. I'd forgotten it if Morriana hadn't reminded me. The name of the original composers eludes me, though. But I remember the band who originally played it was considered one of the best on their planet. Aaand, I believe the music genre is called Rock or 'Rock-N-Roll', although the piece I just played could be considered more Folk Rock than Classic Rock."
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Silvertail twirls a tail and a scrap of leather with writing on it appears in midair. "I met a dealer in information by the name of Dalvatia, who said the witch we seek could be found in a place called "Urling City" near a wood that we must not enter. The details are here," she levitates the leather scrap to the table. "The city is in a country called Rasheman, and we should seek an inn called the Green Chapel Inn there to find her. In return, Dalvatia asked that we recount all we see there to her when we return to the World Serpent Inn."
She looks to Britta. "I believe there are group fights in the arena. I was thinking more of some of us forming a group to fight others. I have absolutely no problem watching you poison others."
Josten listens intently to Silvertail's instruction.
"Sounds fair", the red-haired man said, in reference to Dalvatia's request.
Then the godling began to relay his information on Faerun to the table.
The biggest city on Faerun is Waterdeep, also known as the City of Splendors or Crown of the North, which is considerably larger in both size and population than Absalom. It is home to all manner of peoples, races, and ancestries, and of people who run the gamut of morality. However, it is more aligned with the forces of righteous and peace than any others.
Josten also recalls hearing tales from his parents, of something known as the Time of Troubles. This period of only a few short months saw the multitude of deities cast down from the planes and heavens, forced to walk among their mortal followers.
Britta humms at Josten's overinflated ideal that the band was the best on their planet, as that wasn't saying much. She thought it was okay compared to what she's heard but doesn't seek to demolish his bubble...this time.
"Ahh! That is much more palatable to me. However, if we are going to do that, I suggest we set out tomorrow when we are fresh. I don't feel like fighting, potentially getting beaten to a pulp, and then having to set out the same day."
She looks to the others and then to the Duinuogwuin (dragon of some kind) who called herself Linxx. While the Dragonborn seemed to joke about them losing their virginity in the ring, she didn't seem affectionate to the claim. Such brutish talk disgusts her.
"Alright Linxx...isn't that a type of feline name? A species somewhere? Hmm...anyway...we are considering this offer to fight--as a group. I do have a question, does the arena have a way to stave off death? I typically fight with poisons and the like. Are they allowed? I imagine if there isn't some kind of magical protection, it may be hard to stop them from working..."
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"Feline ..." she tasted the word, the concept behind the word "Ambush predators. A creature that learns. I don't mind being compared to them sure. Why do you ask? Do you have felines named after me, the brutal Linxx? It better not be smaller than me."
Grinning, Linxx leaned back against the counter, considering the second thought. New blood was blood, so it didn't hurt for this to change too. "The arena is first and foremost a show sport. It's not a place to those who just want to torment a creature. Both sides need somewhat of a fair shot, or else management will be munching on my scales, and let me tell you that's no fun."
Still contemplating, she looked closer at Britta, trying to guess at her confidence. "I know, I know, some of you come from fancy worlds that tend to specialize their people, so two or three might be considered against a stronger opponent. We've taken a break, so most of our fighters need to be lined up or are stuck in compression. This last pick up was a bunch of scorpions. Were you thinking of trying to put your blood against a master, or a transcendent candidate?"
Getting up from the table, the big red-haired man walks up to the reptilian.
"Greetings, Linxx. I would like to try my skill against a transcendent candidate, please?"
"Not a comparison," she answers bluntly without emotion at the potential taunt/threat. "If I were making one, it'd be an insult, as I'm sure they are quite small. Not much bigger than your hip plate. Seeing as I'm not making a comparison, I'll say that I just noticed the similarity in the name and thought I had heard it before. I suppose I also wondered at the origin of your name, if it means something in your language?"
Britta is pretty unreadable when Linxx looks closer. By all appearances, the girl isn't much. Dependent on Linxx's culture or experience, she may think Britta's armor is weak. Her appearance is nothing assuming. Surely she won't able to handle anything...but her confidence is strangely unshaken by the scary lizard, which may set off warning signals to counter these thoughts in such a beast.
"Show sport..." Then looking to the others, she shrugs, "Well...I'll fight, but I'm not going to be at my peak then."
If she can't use poisons she'll just have to be trickier. She looks to Josten.
"I think Josten here, Zeran, Silvertail, me...who you can call Britta Karan, and maybe Kagiero here would be interested..." She looks to Kagiero for confirmation, as well as the others, then adds, "...and why not Windchime as well." She sports a laugh, looking to the bot, not sure if the waitress would be interested, but because she is there, she could join if she wants.
Windchime jumps a little as she is called out, seeming genuinely briefly startled. Her eyes flicker for a few colors before settling on a misty blue. "Oh, you are very kind, Mistress! But I am only a doll, and would certainly only be a burden on your performances. I will happily watch, of course! "
"Just a joke, Windchime." Britta chuckles and waves dismissively to the droid, showing it was all in good fun. She then looks back intently to the dragonborn.