Fable - Ask Never A Peaceful Drink

[Ispir Sione]

Outskirts of Alliria - The Slumbering Dragon Inn


Ispir was in the middle of performing for a more remote tavern outside of Alliria, the sun just barely past mid-day, the sound of gentle piano music rolling through the Slumbering Dragon like the gentle lapping of ocean waves that just barely kissed at one's feet upon a warm, sandy shore. The Slumbering Dragon, attached to a relatively small farming community that fed Alliria proper, was experiencing quite the boom in business as the Grand Tournament of Tides was underway. Travel too and from Gild, the Spine, Vel Anir and Fal'Addas was even making this comparatively humble tavern quite a bit of coin.

The soft flickering of candlelight would whip and whisper soft promises of flame every time the tavern staff passed by. Drink flowed in abundance. People laughed and exchanged stories, cards and drinks in genuine shows of hospitality and comradery. All in all it was a peaceful, normal day within The Slumbering Dragon. So much so that famous, infamous or otherwise outstanding company could join the merrymaking without any fuss or fighting from the locals.

In fact the barkeep, a human man with a bald head, large grey moustache, rugged stubble and a generally friendly smile would greet any who entered The Slumbering Dragon with a kind wave and offer for their first drink to be half-off. The prosperity of the tavern of late seemingly emboldening a generous spirit.

Erën
Toruuk Stoneheart ​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

Spoiler: music~

---

Living from Inn to Inn had never been easy, but after Fane, it was better to stay moving even if close by. And so it was that Lilette entered the Slumbering Dragon, turning heads at the sight of her white and blue vestments, all constellations of the celestialist pantheon embroidered upon them in silver thread.

She paid them no heed, for her mercurial eyes gained on her pointed ears as they followed the familiar chime of sweet ivory.

Lilette found herself wandering the crowd at only a few notes, the crowd itself quickly forgetting her odd figure as they too were drawn to the source. Pale little fingers twitched to the rhythm in ghostly synchronicity as muscle remembered what the mind forgot--she knew this song.

Yes, it was coming back now, a ballroom long ago.

Her brother's wedding, she must have-

Despite everything that led to this very moment, she... smiled.

Not that thin little politician's smile she gave everyone, her lips curved like the twin moons in crescent phase.

The crowd faded from notice until only she and the little musician remained, save perhaps the faint memory of lights through stained glass, and the gilded dresses of elvish ladies from across the falwood.

She wandered so close--nearly part of the act--enough to reach for home, if she dared.

---

Ispir Sione Erën Toruuk Stoneheart​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Lilette's little daydream would be suddenly interrupted by a heavy clap on the back, the open palm of the nine-and-a-half-foot minotaur she'd somehow managed to miss whilst wandering up to the stage. He loomed over her from behind, and though imposing, the beast radiated an air of affability that was almost tangible.

"Wohoho! Didn't expect to see a Celestialist in a bar tonight! Pretty sure the Champ's heard a few jokes that lead off like this, just need to find ourselves a Radiant and an Annunaki and we're all set!" the massive bull bellowed jovially. The friendly pat would turn into him carefully pinching a bit of fabric on the back of her raiment and tugging the woman back slightly.

"Hey, hey, let's give the little bard some space, yeah. You musta had a few sips already if you're goin' for him like that, eh missy? Wohoho! Don't you worry, Toruuk won't tell no one! Might have to have a few with the Champ though if ya really wanna buy my silence!"

Another loud chuckle boomed from his chest, then the bull reached down into a pouch on his belt and dug out a coin, which he flicked of his thumb to Ispir with a sharp ping.
"Speaking of: hey, kiddo! How 'bout you play somethin' a little more upbeat, huh? It's a tavern, not a funeral, oh yeah!"

 

[Nico]

At a table near the stage, a thin man had been likewise absorbing the spritely pianist’s tune, attempting to discern whether the notes were born of genuine skill or enchantment. He could hardly fault the elf for her being enthralled.

When a shadow fell across his drink, the man’s dark features looked up. And up. Until his vertebrae ached from meeting the behemoth’s eyes.

“The lady seems invested in hearing the finish,” the Valenntenian said to this Toruuk, gesturing toward the moon-pale woman. “But I’ll stand you a drink while we wait for the encore.” He slid an Anirian silver across the table and waved for the barkeep. “I confess I wasn’t expecting to meet a minotaur in … well, anywhere. Nico Du’Raki.”

He nodded to include the elf and minstrel, thankful for a reason to relieve his craning neck.

From somewhere in the rafters, the keenest of ears might’ve heard the rustle of wings over the exuberance of the patrons.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir was so entranced in his own performative rhythm that neither Lilette Blackbriar 's approach nor the hearty laughter of Toruuk Stoneheart disturbed him over much. Eyes were shut, focus on the dexterous and precise motion of pale fingers over even paler keys, sympathetic and rhythmic to Lilette's own motions as Ispir's head bobbed ever so softly in time with the slow, tender notes.

As Toruuk called out to him Ispir would blink his eyes open, smile, and curiously turn his head to look at the minotaur in time to see a golden coin flipping through the air directly at him. One hand still moving upon the piano he would catch it, giggle a bit, and give a nod.

"This song was just finishing up anyways."

He agreed, pocketing the gold and letting the last few somber notes of the piano's siren song fade into memory. Only to swing his legs around the seat, shed his cloak and cap upon the piano, and pull up a violin from his bevy of instruments. Beginning a new, more upbeat performance as request.

Spoiler: A New Performance

As he began to play aquamarine magic would begin to flow and wind in beautiful undulations about the Bard. Sweeping up instruments in his wake as he moved across the stage and started to play a new song to match a triumphant, is light-hearted and joyous mood. He even danced along just a bit with his own tune, spinning and swaying with surprising grace as his twintails drifted and flowed about his head, whipping the air like a twin pair of conductors batons all the while.

Nico​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

"H-hey!" protested Lilette.

She turned with sour lips and puffed cheeks, for if there was one thing nobody had gotten away with in the castle it was touching a lady of her standing without leave to do so!

But of course, she was neither home nor that girl anyway.

Rather than a servant, she found herself face to navel with... something. She looked up and up, and up again till the bovine source of that thunderous voice made himself known to her; Toruuk. Her dour expression gave way utterly to shock, mouth agape and pointed hears drooping downward like a frightened dog's.

"Uhm. Pray tell ser, thou shan't tell tell no one what, exactly?" asked the elf in all her innocence.

A human voice came to her defense then, receiving a thankful nod from her. This Du'Raki fellow revealed that the hulking bovine was in fact a minotaur, to which Lilette's silver eyes lit up in a very literal sense, gazing up at Toruuk as though he'd walked straight out of a fairy tale and off the page.

"A Minotaur? marvelous!" she said with a smile.

"Many a creature horned and hoofed hast I met, but ne'er so fabled as thine."

The nun then performed a well practiced curtsy to the both of them, whatever offense she'd taken long gone and forgotten.

"Sister Lilette, at thine service good sers."

"Ehm, though I comest only for a room, not drink nor bard-"

Her voice trailed off as the young musician began his orchestra of one, her lips twitching with a barely suppressed smile when she caught a glimpse over her shoulder.

"Though skilled he may be."

---

Ispir Sione Toruuk Stoneheart Nico​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Introductions all around, then! A fine a place and time as any for new acquaintances.

"Toruuk Stoneheart, champion o' the Stoneheart Clan. I'll take a free drink any day or night, fella!" he greeted the strangers in turn, offering a casual salute before nodding to the barmaid who came to serve him. The bull handed off the silver that Nico had offered and gave the maid a little wink. "'Nother mug of ale, if ya please, darlin'."

He looked back to Nico and Lilette and grinned.
"We don't get out much. Well, I do, yeah, but not too many others."

With the somber song done in timely fashion, Toruuk now had everything he needed: a warm bar, good entertainment, and adequate booze. The only thing that could improve the situation was a good old fashioned brawl.

His eyes turned to the nun in particular.

"Shame ya ain't drinkin'! Would make for a helluva time now and a great story later, the Champ would bet, oh yeah!"

But the little thing was already distracted once more with the bard's performance. This time there were visuals to go along with the sounds, and the bard seemed to be just as lost in his own music as the nun kept finding herself.

"Huh, usually ya gotta be pretty deep into the funny stuff to start seein' colors in the air like that. The kid's just givin' that sorta thing away? Nicer bar than I thought, I'll give 'em that! Ohohoho!"

 

[Nico]

“Yes,” Nico agreed after nodding with the introductions, all the while his eyes following the ribbons of light now dancing about the minstrel on stage. “Captivating… the magics one may see about the world.”

He surveyed the motley lot of his companions for the evening, as if in evidence of his point.

“I have a theory…” The Valenntenian nursed his ale, gathering his presentation. “Do you think they could all be one in the same – the magics? A singular primordial force that the peoples of Arethil learned to harness in their own ways. After all, the various disciplines certainly seem to follow a shared set of rules.”

He gestured to each of them in turn, beginning with the friendly giant. “Perhaps magic was responsible for shaping the peoples. Or found some of them in the form of particular skills such as with our prodigious performer.” His hand absently touched the pocket of his long coat as he added, “Even discarded practices like runes.” Last as an example was Lilette, with a brief pause to choose his words carefully. “Perhaps the gods themselves are facets of magic’s nature.

“If one were able to pull back the curtain, to understand the basic cogs and pulleys of such a force…” He leaned back in his chair, pondering the implications. “Well, limits then become possibilities.”

He raised his mug, as if to give his mouth something else to do, hesitating only long enough to still a tremor in his hand.

Ispir Sione Lilette Blackbriar Toruuk Stoneheart

 

[Ispir Sione]

As the three continued their conversation Ispir would continue playing. Their body idly swaying as their magicks swirled, plucked, blew, beat and played all the required instruments to accompany their violin's lead. Fingers would lift, tense, pull and push in masterful motions along the strings of the violin, the bow angled perfectly to draw the desired sounds forth and have it flow across the tavern like the warmest waves of summertime. Upbeat, jolly even, was the song that spoke of good times, good drinks and even better company.

Thankfully for Ispir this continued performance also spared him from deep conversations much too intelligent for him. His craft was music and his art it's perfection. Musings of gods and the primordial aspects of magic would only have left him reeling and confused. Though, eventually, this song did have to come to an end and once it did Ispir would stand, bow to the audience, and gently set his cap on the edge of the stage upside-down to collect any tips that people wished to provide.

"Thank you all for your time and attention! I do hope my performance today has made your day at least a little more enjoyable!"

Hopping off the stage and leaving his cap there Ispir would approach one of the two empty seats at the table bearing the minotaur who had flipped him a coin earlier and smiled at three. Motioning to a chair directly across from Lilette Blackbriar and next to Toruuk Stoneheart before asking.

"Pardon me, may I sit here please?"

Assuming consent was given Ispir would fold his cloak over the back of the chair, plop down with a bottle of wine, and pour himself a glass, and rest his chin in his palm before noticing Lilette's clothing and tilting his head, and glass, curiously.

"Huh....."

Bright aquamarine eyes would sweep upwards as he took a sip of wine, his cheeks glowing healthily, before he asked Lilette.

"Pardon me Miss, you seem... familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

Spoiler: A Curious Look

Motioning to Lilette's clothing he would nod.

"I like your clothes."

Pointing to one of the depicted constellations he would state.

"That one is Tovelos."

His finger would drift to another slowly.

"And that one is Aintarex."

Studying Lilette's clothing for a moment or two more he would suddenly remember his manners and nod his head.

"Oh, sorry! I'm Ispir! Nice to meet you all!"

Nico​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

"W-well, we oft save drink for particular rites, thou see'th." excused Lilette.

Though of course her focus remained on the whimsical display, at least until Nico began talks of magic which pulled her back in.

"All the same?" she said, taking a seat with the group.

It was an interesting proposal, enough to distract her from the fantastical performance even. She pressed a slender finger to her lips in thought. Normally she might've voiced her approval, for an explanation of the gods' origins was truly a fascinating concept. However, to maintain her guise she must surely make an answer informed by the scripture.

"Mm. 'tis said that mortals learnt magic from our goddess, Metisa, who herself wert a construct shaped by the hands o' the shining goddess Astra. However, in the Book of Cosmos, 'tis written that primordials such as she art borne o' the abyss."

"Naught of their origin beside remaineth, thus neither doth contradiction to thine theory."

"Mayhaps the abyss is the birthplace of magic, and womb of the gods." she hummed contemplatively.

So lost in theory-crafting was she as to leave the performance's end unnoticed, nearly jumping in her seat when the sprightly bard appeared at their table.

"Pardon me, may I sit here please?"

"Oh, verily!" said the surprised nun.

Truth be told she tried not to stare, but when he gave her that look it was all but futile. His statement of familiarity saw her lips purse, and an uncanny stillness fell over Lilette.

Did he know?

"Uhm," she breathed.

"Indeed, Tovelos and Aintarex, very good!"

"Beist thou a celestialist too?" the cleric smiled, if a bit shy.

---

Ispir Sione Nico Toruuk Stoneheart​

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

This Nico fella started to speak of magic and theory, and Toruuk's expression glazed over. Thankfully the barmaid returned and handed his oversized mug back to him with a wink and a smile. Toruuk grinned and accepted the vessel, giving her a soft "thanks, doll," as she made her way off to another table.

"Heh, look pal," he said to Nico, pausing to take a swig of his fresh ale. "I dunno nothin' about all that. You wanna talk about fightin' or travelin', then Toruuk's your bull, oh yeah. But the Champ's knowledge of magic begins and ends with 'eh, not interested. Looks pretty sometimes.'"

Then Toruuk heard something that got him chuckling.

"W-well, we oft save drink for particular rites, thou see'th."

"That so? If that's the case, Toruuk'd be comin' up with new 'rites' a few times a week! Wohohoho!"

The little bard was more than welcome at the table so far as Toruuk was concerned. A drinking buddy was a drinking buddy, no matter the size. Hell, he'd met some halflings and dwarves that could give him a run for his money. Judging by appearances was a great way to get laid out flat.

"Huh, bunch o' you star-crossers in here tonight, eh? Not that the Champ minds, hoho! Nykios is alright in my book."

 

[Nico]

“Born of the abyss…” Nico mulled the concept over. He had remained still while the sister spoke, intent equally on her idea and the notion of a devout who was willing to analyze the scripture.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the latest addition to the table, raising his mug welcomingly as Ispir sat.

The horned mountain next to him nudged the conversation elsewhere – Nico had noticed the distance there during his own prattling. The bull’s interests were written on his person like badges, his fur parted here and there with long scars, his horns sturdy but blemished with battle.

“To each their own,” Nico nodded, recognizing the name of the war god when Toruuk spoke it. “I might commission you to make a fighter out of me, but for my suspicion you specialize in weapons I’d not be able to lift from the ground.”

He looked about the crowded tavern, and back to the bull towering over the sea of patrons. “Have you come to Alliria looking for a fight?” He heard the ambiguity as the words left his mouth, and promptly clarified, “In the tourney, I mean.”

Ispir Sione Lilette Blackbriar Toruuk Stoneheart

 

[Ispir Sione]

Taking a small sip of wine Ispir blink at the pretty obvious follow-up question that Lilette Blackbriar asked them. Setting their glass down he would shake his head, giving a bit of a bashful smile as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh! No no I just like the stars and I know how to recognize them."

Came the puzzling honest answer. Though at Toruuk Stoneheart 's insistence of Nykios being alright Ispir would hum. The name sounded familiar. Probably a deity of the Celestialists going by the conversation. Ispir would then quiet down, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, but couldn't remember where exactly he had heard that name before Toruuk mentioned it. Likely just in passing somewhere.

Giving a shrug to his own conclusion Ispir would pause as Nico seemed to challenge the minotaur to a fight! Or, wait no, he just meant in the tourney. Not wanting to interrupt Ispir would wait until Toruuk gave his answer before adding.

"I plan to go and play in the muslcal contest."

He smiled, genuine and airy, before blinking as a few of the local militia entered the Slumbering Dragon, pulled the barkeep aside for a short conversation, and then left again without a word. Idly turning his attention back to the table he didn't think much of it.​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

"Ah, well, the stars art for all of us. Whether thou goest to temple or not." assured Lilette.

"T'were a fascination o' mine ere I donned the cloth!"

Toruuk and Nico's banter received little more than a smirk and playful roll of her eyes, for she had little to offer save perhaps that the human should choose his words carefully in so rough a world. Though the thought his battle with the Minotaur tickled her.

Her thoughts then drifted and her gaze with them, recalling something about Nykios.

Only to find armored figures enter the door.

Pale lips pursed at the sight of them but she uttered not a word until they left. When the elf turned toward her fellows, her voice sank low.

"Wonder what the militia wants?"

"...I think I wilt take that drink, actually."​

---

Ispir Sione Nico Toruuk Stoneheart​

 

[Erën]

He smiled, genuine and airy, before blinking as a few of the local militia entered the Slumbering Dragon, pulled the barkeep aside for a short conversation, and then left again without a word. Idly turning his attention back to the table he didn't think much of it.
​

---

Spoiler: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGBL65QHkCs&list=RDpGBL65QHkCs&start_radio=1

The mid-day sun had diminished by now, and with the season's time, is quickly encroached on the horizon. Long shadows were cast throughout the village, and a cool wind blew through. Not ominous - telling. A storm perhaps, or a sharp drop in warmth. Out in the street, not far from the tavern, Erën made his way. Hooded and cloaked, he was as ambiguous as any, but no so much as to be suspicious. He came in with the cool winds, leaving little question as to why he was so covered.

He knew these parts well, and he followed the street to a familiar stop. Until he spotted the Anirians. Racists with no lack of compulsion - at least in much of his experience. Though in recent years their nation had been through changes, he'd even fought alongside some of them, he was not so quick to dismiss old habits.

It seemed the local militia thought likewise, as they were patrolling nearby, their eyes far more focused on them than any others, not even so much as batting a glance toward his own self.

Fair enough for him.

And so he found himself up the stairs and at the tavern's door without incident, stepping through casually, and pulling his hood from his head without hesitation.

Luminous eyes surveilled the room, and were quick to come upon a familiar figure.

Long had it been since his struggles in the Dark Tower, but weak would his memory be if he had forgotten the likes of Toruuk Stoneheart. They had fought, and struggled together.

In typical Aerai fashion, he lingered there for a moment, his eyes cast toward the Minotaur with look of comradery, and surprise.

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Another bellowing laugh escaped the huge bull, and a hearty clap on Nico's back followed.

"Toruuk's been fightin' a long time! I like my axes, but that don't mean I couldn't put some steel in your hands and turn you into a swordsman worth his salt!"

At the mention of the local tourney, Toruuk raised his mug, froth sloshing over the top.

"Aye, if there's a fight to be had there ain't a distance the Champ won't travel to contend. History beckons the Stoneheart Champion!" he asserted, shaking a triumphant fist in the air for a victory he knew he'd soon claim.

Soon after the local militia filed in, as the little lady pointed out. Not that strange to Toruuk; surely the boys were just arriving to unwind with a little drink and merriment of their own. Following them was a face he hadn't seen in some time, and one he'd not expected to see for much longer.

The minotaur stood from his seat, mug still in one hand, and pointed across the bar with the other.
"Yyyooouuu sonuvabitch! Get yer ass over here and have a drink with me before I put ya in a headlock, Sunshine!"

 

[Nico]

The minotaur and minstrel both announced their respective interests in the tourney, and Nico gave an amused grunt. “Well, I’ll arrange the announcement that no brawlers nor bards need enter the events, for…”

A brief pause, his eyes darting sidelong to the armed men pushing through the crowd.

“...for it will be of little contest,” he finished, tipping his mug in salute.

The fair sister then noticed and inquired of the militia.

“Likely dealing with a confrontation outside,” he tried to convince himself as much as Lilette. “The drink often spurs more… informal tournaments.”

A nervous croak came from the rafters, the rook receiving a quick glance of acknowledgement from Nico, just as the militia hands departed.

Nico had barely sat down his drink when an elf appeared in the doorway. The man stood with a surety, level with most of the heads in the Dragon but taking up as much room as the minotaur.

In fact, the two locked stares, and Toruuk bellowed a greeting.

“I could’ve guessed,” Nico said under his breath. He leaned toward Lilette and Ispir. “I hope you two enjoy tales of valor. I suspect we’re rich in them this evening.”

As he reached for his ale, a tremor returned to his hand, persistent now. Nico pulled the mug off the table, where he discretely produced a phial of pale powder to dash into the liquid.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would almost jolt as Toruuk Stoneheart belted out a hearty hello to.... an elf man! One who was very mysterious and very handsome to boot! Ispir, for his part, would wave in a not-at-all subtle fashion at Erën and grin a wide, cheerful grin at him. Only to pause at Lilette Blackbriar 's murmuring about the militia and a drink. This caused the Bard to think for a moment, lowering himself back in his seat after waving at Eren, before blinking at Nico 's guess. Adding casually after a moment of thought.

"That makes sense."

Dipping his head in thanks Ispir would smile all the wider at Nico.

"And thank you, I'm flattered Sir."

As Nico conspiratorially whispered his theory about valor and tales Ispir would giggle a bit and actually nod!

"Oh! Yes I love a good story!"

Ispir did not pay attention to it, engrossed as he was with his new friends, but the barkeep would finish polishing a glass before setting it on the counter and throwing the towel over his shoulder. Wiping his hands on his apron he would then approach a table occupied by a half-dozen militia either off-duty entirely or on break.

"Ayy you lot. Sergeant says you're back on the job early. A patrol along the edge o' the Falwood's gone missin'. Back to it."

There was a motley series of groans and swears from the militia but they nonetheless complied, gathering their belongings and downing drinks in a beleaguered fashion before also exiting the Slumbering Dragon. Ispir, for his part, would begin fishing out some sheets of paper to excitedly show Nico and Lilette the song he had been working on for the tournament.

"But, but look here! I've been working on a very big performance for the tournament! I think it'll do really well! There's supposed to be a wonderful, magical prize for whoever wins!"

Whether or not Lilette or Nico could make much sense of notes, stanzas and general musical detail was entirely unknown to the short Bard.​

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

"Oh, verily, 'tis why I doth caution moderation." said the elf to Nico.

That was the hardest lesson of all, since leaving home. Toruuk cut her musing short in a thunderous display of nostalgia upon sighting what must be an old friend, sending the poor girl's ears back like a frightened cat's.

"Uhn..!" she winced.

Though subtle, her nails left tiny scratches in the table.

It was not until later in the conversation that her eyes blinked open, side eying the minotaur's exchange with the (incredibly tall) elven man who... oh? she paused a moment, looking as though he were all at once familiar and yet not at all.

There was something melancholic in the way her eyes softly shut, then drifted back to the others.

"Stories. o' brother mine, he wouldst tell them to me whenever he returned home."

"Hmh. mayhaps I shouldst maketh my own, join thee and Toruuk in training, hm?"

She smiled halfheartedly.

A moment of silence passed while Ispir hurriedly fetched his parchment when suddenly Lilette's pointed ears shot straight up, catching something about a patrol, and Falwood. Alas there was naught else to glean, and so smile at the bard's work as though she understood it and nothing at all had happened.

"How lovely! It will, I'm sure."

"Mm, by the by," she then glanced at Nico, "Knowest thou our feathered friend?"

Yet the woman had not looked to the rafters, not once, since she arrived.

---

Ispir Sione Nico Toruuk Stoneheart Erën​

 

[Erën]

His footfalls on the wooden floor easily fell silent under the sounds of the tavern, a half smile lifting his lips as he approached the table. As he came near, he cast a welcoming nod to Ispir who had waved to him, and then lifted his left hand, placing the other on his chest as he paused and shared an affectionate nod to Toruuk.

He was a friend.

Then he lifted his eyes and, "it has been some time."

He cast a welcoming look out to his friend's company, speaking a general greeting with a simple, "hello."

Then, back up to Toruuk, "might still take you up on the challenge, Champ."

He smiled, more so than he had yet.

---

Darkweaver | Toruuk Stoneheart | Nico | Ispir Sione | Lilette Blackbriar ​

 

[Pneria]

Spoiler: Music

Pneria had lost track of her quarry.

It was a shame to admit it, but there it was. No sense in denying it. Even if the sting of failure prickled her skin near as much as the blisters enflaming her cheek.

In the haze and maze of the hundreds of thousands of souls that made up Alliria proper and even more in its surrounding area, her target had vanished like a drop into the sea. Even when her target had been a bloody drow. How did white hair and onyx skin simply vanish like that? She could just imagine his light, undulating voice, all joyous glee at his evasion . . . like that voice she had heard near the Vestra Aqueduct. Pox on that slippery prick.

Her shadowing had taken her to the Slumbering Dragon. Her last bet had counted on his thirst for either drink, music or company. But her gamble didn't pan out. No dark elf in sight.

There was, however, quite a motley ensemble of people; a group where the sight of a drow wouldn't be too jarring at all. The minotaur stole most of the attention, but this chortling behemoth surrounded himself with a generous crowd of diverse individuals. A tall, muscular elf walking with easy confidence; a smaller nun also of the elven inclination with her ears tapering to a point, pale as snow; a young, colourful minstrel looking scarcely adult and some dark-haired human clerk or scholar with a fashionable beard and hair. They spoke easily and with friendly banter.

Her target disguised himself with magic. That much she had learned. There was a chance he could make up any of these individuals.

At the very least, a drink and a bit of eavesdropping couldn't hurt.

Pneria pulled her hood further down over her head, allowing her cloak to envelop most of her features. In an effort to blend in, she didn't wield her crossbow or quiver, favouring instead a belt of knives hidden behind the back of her corset, and pockets of alchemical vials in her cloak. She weaved between the other patrons, swiftly ordering a flagon of half-priced ale with a mutter at the strangely smiling barkeep and seated herself as close as she could to the group. Pretending to mind her own business, allowing the mug to veil her face as much as her cowl.

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

The mighty minotaur would have given Nico a refusal of his notion, that no one need join the tournament if Toruuk intended to participate. If no one entered, then whom would he fight? Whom would he conquer to claim a victory earned, rather than given? And how might his opponents learn the taste of defeat and how to grow from its bitterness?

The little nun, as well, offered an exciting prospect: an eager trainee! A dainty vessel that the bull could forge into an unstoppable force. He'd been no stranger to elevating fellow fighters, potential future rivals and compatriots in the arena. Was there any greater calling? Besides a well earned victory, of course.

But all that was passed by, at least for the time being. There was a reunion to be had, and it couldn't wait.

"Baaah, c'mere!" he boomed, a massive mitt coming down on the elf's shoulder. His right hand would seize Erën's and force him into a warrior's handshake. "Good t' see ya, hotshot! Ain't gonna be no 'mights' or 'maybes' about it, yeah, we're celebratin'!"

Releasing him from his grip, Toruuk would look about and point down at Erën, a huge grin on his mug.
"This here's the only elf I've ever known that can fight like he was born in Yore, oh yeah! Tough as nails and too good to fail, WOHOHO!"

And were there anything else which may have posed some silent threat, well, the Stoneheart minotaur was too distracted to notice.

 

[Nico]

Nico had one eye on his now-steadying hand as the bard spoke. Craning his neck to see Ispir’s notes, he blinked at the pages.

“By the Sixteenth Stone…” he murmured. “I’ve no inclination in the arts, know you, but have studied them. Yes, this is something. The way it slips in and out of modes like it were nothing… and the evolving refrains are inspired.”

The sister, for her part, had agreed in not so many words. A breath later, Nico hesitated when she inquired of the rook, who was barely a shadow in the darkness of the rafters behind and above Lilette, and he had not caught the woman’s head swiveling about. He decided two things simultaneously: that she had heard the bird over the drone of patrons – keen were the ears of elves – and that he would afford more attention to this moon-pale lady of the cloth, for the sake of caution or curiosity, he wasn’t certain.

“Ah, yes,” he said, regaining his composure. He produced a hardtack biscuit, the corner of which he broke off and crumbled onto the shoulder of his coat. “If you’ll excuse the abhorrent table manners…”

The air stirred overhead, and a moment later the rook perched on Nico’s shoulder to peck at the crumbs.

“Val here is the only traveling companion that will put up with me.”

Nico half-smiled at the jest as his eyes darted, another quick survey of the place. He’d actually eased when it had become obvious the armed men were in fact local militia with local problems to see to. But he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.

 

[Ispir Sione]

The combined praise of Lilette Blackbriar and especially Nico had Ispir positively beaming with happiness. The short bard would plop back down in his seat and hug the sheet music to his chest, smiling so wide it reached his eyes effortlessly as he chirped.

"Thank you both so much!"

Spoiler: Happy Ispir

The sight of a bird, Val going by what Nico said, landing upon his shoulder to feed made Ispir grin. Nico did seem the kind of guy to usually keep to himself with a pet. Not quite a loner, but likely more comfortable with his feathered friend than most people. He was also especially happy to see Toruuk Stoneheart met an old friend. The champ seemed the type to have a lot of friends and given how Toruuk spoke of Erën Ispir would be glad to meet him.

Leaning over and peering up at the Aerai with glowing aquamarine eyes Ispir would offer up a hand for Eren to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Sir. My name is Ispir. Glad to have you!"

Came a greeting as bright and soft as starlight.

Just as she desired, at least as far as the oblivious bard was concerned, Pneria was likely the last thing Ispir would notice in the entire inn. Fixated as he was on his circle of new friends. After shaking Eren's hand Ispir would then sit back, take a drink, and there would be what only felt like a few more heartbeats of peace and merriment, but was in truth another couple minutes, before the more observant of the group might notice that late night fog had begun to roll across the village outside the inn windows. Very few of the patrons paid it any mind, a new bard had taken the stage to begin playing a new song and Ispir raised a mug to a colleague before yawning gently.

But that was far from the end of the night turning toward the dark. A few patrons seated closer to windows would begin to peer out of them curiously, mumbling to themselves, as the fog thickened so as to be impossible to see through. Turning the windows into naught but mirrors for those inside.

But in truth the first sign of the trouble to come would occur to only one elf in the entire inn.

Eren.

An unsettling sensation would lance at the Aerai's mind, an attack of sorts, directly through his connection to The Shoraes of his people. A discordant note, a hostile kin, that knew he was there and had sunk their telepathic presence under the din of those around Eren so as to give him the equivalent of a fierce shove, attempting to send the famed warrior reeling from his connection to The Shoraes and unbalance him.

This occurred only a half-minute before the screaming started.

From outside the inn screeches of terror could be heard, then the sounds of grunts, of battle, of fighting and dying. Ispir, for his part, would leap in such shock in his seat he fell over backwards. Spilling his drink on himself and coughing as he wiped at his face. Some of the inn's patrons would freeze, others would rush to the windows in a futile attempt to see what was going on....

Only for the first of the living dead to slam themselves through the windows, shattering glass without heed for any sense of personal safety or injury. Then the doors flew open, skeletons in rusted armor, wielding equally destitute weaponry, shambling in with a fetid green glow to their eyes. Foliage clinging to their desiccated limbs as they began to assault the living with raw, animalistic hatred.

Spoiler: Skellingtons

 

[Lilette Blackbriar]

"My pleasure, young ser!" Ispir's smile was infectious, as was the falconer's.

Corviner...? surely "Val" was some sort of corvid, though she'd never seen one quite like them before.

"Such opulent onyx, this fowl of thine." beamed Lilette.

All the while Toruuk and his elvish friend conversed in that boisterous way her brothers once had, and for but a moment, she felt at home again. In fact she may have looked like another Aerai to Erën; waving a fair hand to the newcomer, looking up at him with silver-grey eyes nearly argent as the white hair which settled upon her celestialist robes like ribbons of royal silk.

<"Suilad."> she greeted in elvish with an accompanying nod.

Her native tongue felt so crisp on her lips. How long had it been since she spoke to one of her own kind?

But fate in all it's fickleness saw nostalgia smothered in it's cradle by that strange fog which began to envelop the streets outside. It went unnoticed at first but the murmuring and clash outside would inevitably steal her attention for a moment, just a moment, to warn the elf of the impending chaos.

Without thinking her frozen limbs gave way to action as she fled her seat to kneel between Ispir's collapsed form and the window, arm outstretched to shield him come what may, be it bone or shattered glass.

"Stay thou behind me!"

---

Ispir Sione Pneria Erën Toruuk Stoneheart Nico​