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Having a quick drink with Alain and a few others in the corner. He and the group quickly depart after a brief conversation with an important looking woman.
"Violca, you got the bar. I should be back in a month or so. If I die - it's Alain's fault. No doubt."
With a hurried action he and the group of adventurers head off.
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Dusting his shoes off and rubbing his eyes, Menas is very glad indeed to see Magnimar again. He finds his way back to the Delve around midday and quietly lets himself in. He gives Alain a bit of a grunt and a nod and rubs a few fresh scars as he pours himself an ale.
"Did I miss anything?"
The Bartender has a bit of a 1000 yard stare about him today. He smiles and makes small talk with the regular patrons - but seems willing to turn his full attention to his fellow Pathfinders. Aside from that, the young man leans on the bar and checks over what needs to be restocked.
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A loud clanging sound enters the bar, followed closely by a whip-thin young woman in battered, spiked half-plate, a black patch over her left eye. A foul expression on her face, she pulls up a stool and sits down. "Something strong, for the love of Iomedae!" she calls, before removing her helmet, letting her fire-red, plaited hair fall down her back. "Bloody sleepwalkers," she growls. "And why, for the love of Iomedae and the Sacred Hawk Lymirin, would a bard want to disguise himself as a rogue? He could have got us all killed!" She looks around. "Is everyone here who they seem to be?" she demands wearily. "Or is *he*" pointing to Magnus, "really a tengu with a mandolin?"
<OOC - that's not a spoiler. Someone in my group was a bard who disguised himself as a rogue. It was hilarious and he's a legend, but in-character poor Sichelgaita's feeling considerably irked>
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"Man..." Kyros mutters under his breath "We kill people all the time, and never think about it, or at least for selfish reasons-excluding people like Sichelgaita or the fine folks at Lastwall who support my horse trade. One time I KILLED two city guards for wanting too high a bribe. Only seen death on my side once, though. Poor guy never knew what hit him. Figure once I retire, I'll bring along my friends and go to Mendev. Plenty of target practice up there, with little hurt for others involved."
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Sichlgaita sips the powerful brew carefully. "Better," she says. "My thanks." She raises her head. "Luckily, we all survived. Though that was mostly thanks to our Druid's particularly fearsome cat...which can also pick locks with its claws. Still, it was...interesting. He and I were supervising five new Pathfinders, one of whom was the aforementioned Bard. By virtue of seniority, we were given leadership." She sips again. "I've come close to death myself - in Oppara I came far closer than most do and survive - but I'm proud that I was able to keep the novices safe this time." She surveys the room. "But I'm sorry for dwelling on it. Tell me, what news here?"
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"Hah!!!" Kyros laughs at that "Though in all honesty, I bungled up in teaching Magnus how to woo her through dancing and charm, and I haven't had much luck on my own after a Harpy attack" He gestures to a slashing scar on the left side of his face "Stings like all get out. !@#$% fiend-touched monsters.
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"Hah!!!" Kyros laughs at that "Though in all honesty, I bungled up in teaching Magnus how to woo her through dancing and charm, and I haven't had much luck on my own after a Harpy attack" He gestures to a slashing scar on the left side of his face "Stings like all get out. !@#$% fiend-touched monsters."
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Sichlgaita laughs again. "Sorry - not laughing at the scar, more the image of you trying to teach a barbarian how to dance." She sips again, then continues. "Brings to mind my days as a Neophyte Paladin. For the unwed, our Code values courtly love rather than anything more...direct. Unfortunately, for Neophytes who come from more rustic backgrounds - like me - this means that instruction has to be given in what courtly love actually *is*. And then when they try it out... Results can be mixed. And serenading someone under their window is much less fun *when it's the wrong bloody window* "
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"I have a Varisian friend of mine, odd fellow honestly, who could tell you more than a thing or two about that. I'm actually considering training in Paladinhood. I've been in the church of Abadar most of my life, and I figure my talents would do me good in Mendev, where my cause is a virtue. And then, of course, having my friend Jerry around can't help but inspire a fellow. Nice guy. Picked him up from a Shoanti village, monster of a man, but he wouldn't hurt people if he knew what he was capable of."
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Another woman enters the place, tattooed, and dressed in outlandish clothes, fit for a runway. She smiles widely as she sees Sichelgaita, and looks to the others present. "I'm Varisian. So what is going on here with the dancing, and such?" Sheliantha is stunning in her looks, and smooth in her movements. "Is there someone here to dance with me?"
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Sichlgaita also looks at the Tengu. "It's at times like this," she says, "that I understand why my father was so stingy about the amounts of wine he allowed himself. Watered-down wine it was, too." A small smile crosses her face. "Except for the day I was born. My mother told me after I was born, he held me for a solid hour, then stood up and made for the door. When she asked him where he was going, he said 'First I'm going to drink a bar. Then I'm going to start a fight with ten men and win it. Then I'm going to smoke an entire stock of pipe weed. Then I'm going to get the finest gifts for the pair of you that I can think of, and come home.' He arrived home the following morning being carried by ten men - all of whom were badly marked about the face, while he only had a black eye - carrying two of these." Tugging on a delicate silver chain about her neck, she holds up a reddish-brown wood Holy Symbol of Iomedae, intricately carved and delicately detailed. "One for my mother - though Desna was her goddess, she paid her respects to Iomedae too - and one for me. Made of Verduran Oak, which he collected himself. And when you consider how jealously the inhabitants of the Forest guard the trees, you can understand how amazing a gesture this was. Though if he'd have done it were he sober, of course, is another question. Though at least he didn't try singing."
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"Sobriety sure has its place. I'll have to pass on the drink, Sichelgaita, as my memory is fuzzy from back in Absalom. Just some tea for me, please."
She looks Kyros up and down and tilts her head appraisingly, "I'm a trained singer, but though I am a sheer amateur, I do love to dance. Are there new styles here in Varisia? I can try to keep up if you'd like to give it a go."
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Sichelgaita orders for Sheliantha, then turns to face the two. "Enjoy, you two. I learned long ago to accept that I'm not one of nature's dancers - I haven't Sheliantha's grace and subtlety, being but a blunt instrument - but I can enjoy watching those who have it. Though before you get too swept up, tell me how the Lady Cuorecielo and our other friends back in Absalom fare."
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She looks over to the paladin. "Oh? Cuorecielo is here. She's just having a rest. Though, if Kyros is the leader in dancing that he seems to purport, I'll get a tongue lashing if I don't have her watch."
So then, from the sorceress' bare shoulder, out comes a tiny form, that of the Lyrakien Azata in question. She shakes her wings, and flutters up, giving Sheliantha a kiss on the cheek. She swoops around and gives Sichelgaita an energetic wave, flying over to her.
Sheliantha steps over to Kyros, and places her hand in his. "Lead on, dear sir, and may we trip the light fantastic. Our audience now has some expertise in the subject, but don't let that make you nervous."
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((Where's the Dice-Roller?))
Sheliantha keeps up as best she can, and fortunately for her, most don't notice what she is doing, over what she is. She smiles broadly as she is returned to her seat.
Cuorecielo, the Lyrakien seems not to hear Sichelgaita as she watches the dancing, but then turns and responds. "Oh, I don't need anything to eat or drink yet. I just woke up, so let me soak in the excitement of this city."
