RPG The Taste Of Night

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Here we go then....

[I]Kinrade awoke, in the small, but uncramped room. He sat up sharply, momentarily unsure of his surroundings, before subsiding in rememberance and pain. Events crashed back in on him, last night's encounters, Lacroix, the insane gnomes, the people clustered around him in mild curiousity. The Post sounded quiet. Based on what he had heard of the place, if you could hear yourself think, it was a slow day. Today seemed to be a slow day.

Kinrade had to force himself to get up. Every movement was an effort. He ached all over, a dull throbbing that seemed to echo through his bones. He stood up, slowly, but staggered nonetheless. He examined the room, searching for a something reflective. A floor to ceiling mirror was mounted in one corner. Kinrade awkwardly made his way over to it, and examined his ragged body.

He had no visible wounds, and nothing looked broken. Except maybe his ribs, but they were a mere inconvenience. He drew a deep breath, feeling it hitch slightly inside him. Not broken, but badly bruised.

There were two doors to Lacroix's room. The front door, which led to behind the bar, and another, previously un-noticed. Kinrade let himself out this door, finding a path to the bathhouse. Kinrade approved of that. Very rarely did one find a clean minotaur, but time spent with nobles had given him an appreciation of the amenities of civilisation.

The bath house was as raucous as the taproom, just probably due to different reasons. Lacroix, unable to be bothered building two seperate buildings, allowed males and females to bathe together indiscriminately. This occasionally led to trouble, but Kwasar, the huge half ogre, half frost giant guard tended to settle things down without any trouble. By the sounds of it, he soon be stirring to kick a few bodies out the door.

Kinrade reached the door, and opened it cautiously. As he did so, a body flew into out the door. Kinrade's hands shot up, catching the body of what appeared to be a human. His huge frame was barely jolted by the impact. Kinrade looked past, unwilling to get involved in another's troubles. What appeared to be a weretiger stood just inside, panting angrily. Kinrade looked back down to the human, who looked up with sparkling amusement in his eyes.[/I]

"The problem with weretigers is that they don't have pockets. The name's Ben. Drakenmoor."

[I]Kinrade set him down, and stepped forward.[/I]

Kinrade: And you would be?

Weretiger: You may call me Flare Kenrilon.

Kinrade: I [I]may[/i] call you anything I'd like. I asked who you were.

Flare Kenrilon: As I said.

Kinrade: Let me guess, he tried to steal something from you.

Flare: Yes.

Kinrade: Okay, just making sure I understood the circumstances. That done...

[I]Kinrade sidestepped the weretiger and walked further into the bathhouse. Finding an empty pool, he settled his large frame into the steaming water, and cleaned his harsh fur off with a stiff brush. After about a qaurter of an hour, he lay back, drifting into darkness. Kwasar yelled something, there was the sound of a few large thumps, a high pitched female yell of annoyance. Kinrade ignored them.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOr=royalblue][i]He closed his eyes, and was drifting off into sleep, when he heard another shout and the sound of flesh ripping. The doors burst open, aided by the force of a human striking it, and Flare sat upright. A fully grown female Laporin was standing in the doorway, a hefty looking iron rod in her hands, blood dripping from an open wound on her cheeks.[/i]

Nepenthe: Never do that again!

Kinrade: ...by the hells....

[i]The human groaned in pain, and the wound on his chest oozed with red blood. He winced as she advanced angrily. With a swift motion, she swung it around again, thudding into his face. Then she stepped over his body scornfully and pushed her hair out of her face.[/i]

Nepenthe: Sorry. He was trying to take advantage of me.[/COLOr]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Kinrade placed his hands on the sides of the pool, shooting himself upwards in a surprisingly graceful motion. He walked past the Laporian, picked up the human, and threw him outside. About twenty metres outside....

He turned, and walked back into the pool. Ducking his head under the steaming water, and cursing in a froth of bubbles as his horns quivered slightly in the heat, he ignored the Laporian for a moment.

The slight movement of water somehow didn't surprise him. He looked up. The female had slipped in opposite to him, showing no concern over the heat. On the other side of the bathhouse, it seemed to Kinrade that Ben and Flare were arguing again. Kwasar was standing beside them, keeping things in hand. His glance flicked over to Kinrade, and the frost giant spawned ogre inclined his head to Kinrade for the help. Kinrade let his gaze settle back on the being across from him, who now appeared to be enjoying herself somewhat. Females were like that, in his experience.[/I]

Kinrade: Kinrade Riftsbane. Former cleric of Belaaz, former pit champion, and former captain of the Horned Wrath, a cutter out of Wraspith.

Nepenthe: Nepenthe Sevenstar.

[I]The minotaur waited a moment, but didn't get anymore. Respecting the apparent desire for silence as a reflection of his own, he lay back, and folded his arms behind his head.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]Nepenthe: Last of the dark kynn. My magical powers have been sealed for the time being...and I plan on regaining them.

Kinrade: So you are not as strong as you could be.

Nepenthe: For 800 years.....no. Not really.

[i]She gazed deeply into his eyes and her silver eyes seemed to bore into his own. He stared for several moments and the two seemed to share a swift undercurrent of power. The energy that was between the two was nearly visible, and it was smooth and flowing...like water.

She smiled darkly at him and drew her fingers across her face in a graceful line. He followed her movements, half awake half asleep. Her body spoke of strength and grace, but not the brute type he was familiar with. Her rod glinted wetly in the torchlight, and she stood up. He blushed slightly.

Apparently, casual nudity wasn't something she worried about.[/i][/COLOR]

[Talon]

[color=teal][i]Flare sighed inwardly, walking outside into the wind. As he looked skyward, he caught Ben's hand as he tried to rip him of his only heirloom: his sister's jewelled necklace. He tossed the thief into a tree, savoring the taste of victory.[/i]

[b]Flare:[/b]You're going to pester me about my necklace for ages, aren't you?

[b]Ben:[/b]Hmm....interesting proposition. Will it get me killed if I do?

[b]Flare:[/b]Yes.

[b]Ben:[/b]No.

[b]Flare:[/b]Good.

[i]Flare regressed into his elven form, appearing about six feet tall, muscled, and bare-chested. As he walked in, an icara upstairs from him managed a low growl at him.[/i]

[b]Siren:[/b]Hmm. If you weren't tainted by the blood of the tiger, I would make you the handsomest icarus to walk this planet.

[b]Flare:[/b]A tempting offer, vampyre, but I desire only the death of Artem Kenrilon. My father, who murdered and raped my mother, then took the only heirloom I had from my tigress mother before she died.

[i]Flare then walked into his room, making sure Ben saw that he slept with one eye open, and fell into an easy, restful trance. Lacroix sighed, making sure the patrons didn't stir up anymore trouble. He wanted to die of old age, not of a barfight IN his old age.[/i][/color]

[Deedlit]

[color=009966][i]Elsyan stood looking out the window of her room. She had spent a sleepless night staying alert, clutching her staff in her hand, expecting a team of assassins to come barging in at any moment, but she was still just as alert as she had been hours ago. Her emerald eyes quickly scanned the city for any signs of them. Luckily there wasn't.

She shut the curtains and pulled the hood of her white cape over her head. She tightened the grip she kept on her staff, using it as a sort of reasurrance, then searched the room to make sure that there wasn't a single trace that she had been there. When she saw that it was satisfactory, she left her room and walked downstairs. She was dismayed to see that it was a slow day and not very crowded; she had hoped to escape in the crowds. She gave a soft curse and walked towards the darkest corner in The Post.[/i]

Elsyan: "This is just great. Now what?"

[i]She glanced around the room, saying a silent prayer that she wouldn't be discovered. She kept glancing around nervously and almost jumped out of her skin when someone came to ask what she would like to eat. She ordered just a bit of wine and put a coin on the table. The waitor took the coin and walked off. Elsyan paid him no attention. She glanced out a window, staring out of it gloomily with her own thoughts.[/i][/color]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Two things... one, to Raiha - I'm a minotaur. A female Laporin's nudity wouldn't concern me. And you couldn't see me blush anyway... Secondly, to Etarah's Maverick. - Kill Lacroix, in a bar fight? Not bloodly likely. Lacroix might be retired, but the old bastard isn't infirm yet. Unfortunately...

IC:[I]Kinrade sat up slightly, stifling a yawn. He let his gaze rest on the being before him, as unconcered with propriety as she.[/I]

Kinrade: Leaving so soon?

Nepenthe: Duty calls.

[I]Kinrade closed his eyes, and touched his fingers to his forehead, before waving them off in an ironic salute. Nepenthe walked away. From what Kinrade heard, it seemed she had had to hit another unfortunate male. Not surprising. She was attractive by their standards he supposed. But then, he didn't really find anything attractive. Not even minotaur females. Who could....

There was another slight movement in the water, almost indiscernable. Kinrade opened his eyes again. Lacroix sat across from him this time. Water glistened over his pale skin, highlighting a host of scars. Lacroix noted Kinrade's professional glance, and chuckled slightly.[/I]

Lacroix: Remnants of a misspent youth.

Kinrade: I was under the impression you loved the adventuring life.

Lacroix: Oh I do. It was just a bit more tedious before I realised I didn't have to get cut if I didn't want to. After that, I stopped receiving wounds for some reason...

Kinrade: I'm not sure I understand that. Who's watching the bar?

[I]Unfazed at the sudden turn in conversation, Lacroix replied with a slight smile.[/I]

Lacroix: The threat of mutually assured destruction.

Kinrade: That makes uncanny sense....

Lacroix: Beautiful, isn't it. I've got more than enough good dwarven ale, and even a large stock of Dark Elven Faerie spirits to last everyone there several lifetimes, and I'm not doing this for the profit. Besides, a troop of mercenaries from up north just floated in, and let everyone know they were too tired to fight. Things quietened down quite a bit when the leader knocked down a dwarven battlerager with his fist.

Kinrade: They say what they were looking for?

Lacroix: You.

[I]Kinrade shot upright, eyes wide. His hands groped for his ornate, deadly battle axe, left in Lacroix's room. Lacroix lazily reached over his shoulder and pulled it out of a rucksack. It was a large weapon, but not a heavy one, and Kinrade could wield it one handed with no difficulty. The handle was a mere four feet long. The blades were curved, and tapered to long points at the bottom, as if they were scythes. Strangely, no point of spearhead adorned the area on the end of the haft. Lacroix hefted the weapon a few times, and stood up. Even hip deep in water, holding a battle axe, he still managed to move the thing with blinding speed. Conversation dropped off inside the bathhouse. Everybody stared with awed silence. Lacroix finished his kata, and handed the blade to Kinrade. The minotaur stared at it for a second. It seemed as if the axe possessed a cold fire, given by Lacroix's touch. The feeling faded away instantly, leaving him bewildered. Lacroix looked around, and bowed slightly.[/I]

Lacroix: Now that, people, is why you don't try to tear up this inn beyond what I let you.

[I]He sat back down, and looked at Kinrade, deadly serious.[/I]

Lacroix: I'm familar with this troop, and I know you wouldn't be on the wrong side of them for doing the wrong thing. And as soon as they get not so tired, they'll probably kill several people while trying to get what they want.

Kinrade: You want me to leave?

Lacroix: No, I want you to give me a hand.

[I]Lacroix reached back in to the rucksack, and drew his twin scimitars out. They glew with a cold fire, one identical to what Kinrade had felt. Residual, most likely. Lacroix continued speaking, his voice low and deadly.[/i]

Lacroix: They're all sleeping in the common room. There a large gap around them. Currently, everyobdy is less than happy with them, and many know their reputation as oathbreaking killers. Chances are, we'll have more than a few allies.

[I]Kinrade's head reeled. Lacroix was suggesting mass murder, to the possible cost of his inn, to help him. Kinrade rose, and replaced the black leather trousers he wore. He swung the battle axe a few times, limbering up. They rose and left, grim faced.

The entered common room with steel flying. Kinrade barrelled in to the mercenary he first encountered, hitting him with his shoulder, before whipping his head across. His horn slit the man's throat wide open. Kinrade rose and spun, a backhanded strike taking out a second merc. He followed through, and kicked out backwards, dropping a third to the floor. Just parrying a lightning fast strike form another, he shoved the man back into the one he had winded. The two tumbled, and the axe fell twice before they could get up.

Kinrade looked around, wary. Lacroix was standing, unconcerned. Twelve bodies lay strewn around him. There was a moment of silence, as the entire taproom stared at him, before someone started clapping. In seconds, a spontaneous round of applause was echoing through the room. Lacroix bowed, and jumped bakc behind the bar. Left in a circle of scrutiny, Kinrade shuffled out, seeking privacy back at the bathhouse for the moment. He would acknowledge his debt to Lacroix later.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]It wouldn't surprise you in the least? Remember, she can sense emotion, even when it is surpressed...I have to make up for the lack of brute strength somehow...
~~~~~~~~~~
[i]Nepenthe watched everything lazily....from her half opened eyes, everything appeared to be dull and subdued. Almost like the three gentlemen beneath her, choking and gasping for air through wounded tracheas..... From the rafters, she smiled, and almost purred......

Her staff waited in her hands, for some touch to awaken it from cold sleep.[/i]

Kinrade: ...let me guess....they tried to take advantage of you.

Nepenthe: You could say that. One of them just wanted a lap dance. Either way......

Kinrade: They pissed you off.

Nepenthe: I suppose so. If given the choice, I would've probably refrained from using Black Numenorian magic....but when I get mad enough....it juat happens.

[i]She shrugged, and sipped the white wine she had purchased earlier. Not that human life held any great meaning for her.....humans were sheep, and she was a shepherd.[/i][/COLOR]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Kinrade sighed, and picked two of the bodies up, throwing one of them to the long suffering halfbreed who had already come to collect them. He looked reprovingly down at Nepenthe.[/I]

Kwasar: Watch yourself. Lacroix doens't like more than three accidental deaths a day, based on the number we have here.

[I]Kinrade picked up the other body, grunting slightly as he did so. The bastard was fat.[/I]

Kinrade: What about bar brawls?

Kwasar: What? Oh.... No, those three deaths are just for the bath house. The taproom doesn't have a limit.

Kinrade: Perhaps you should retire there Nepenthe.

[I]She didn't reply as the two bulky beings threw out the wounded, dying men. Kinrade returned to the pool of water Nepenthe occupied, Kwasar to his post.[/I]

Kinrade: Well, since I seem to have attracted the attention of a nasty group of people, I believe I'll stay in a public area for the moment.

Nepenthe: The though of assassins worries you?

[I]Kinrade looked offended for a moment before replying.[/I]

Kinrade: I'm a minotaur. Do you have idea how hard it is to look over your shoulder? Without looking straight over the head of the creature behind you with the knife?

[I]Nepenthe responded with a soft burst of laughter. Kinrade settled into the water, communing with Nepenthe in companionable silence. Another being entered the water, but he didn't look up to see who.[/font][/color][/I]

[liamc2]

Fieleth drew to a halt in front of the post. Athenos, who had been lying comfortably on his back the whole trip, rolled off the side of Fieleth and dropped comfortably to his feet.

Fieleth nudged Athenos a split second before he got his balance. The horse chuckled in its own little way when Athenos fell painfully over.

Athenos rose to his feet and shook his head. Fieleth stopped and nudged him again. Athenos gave a small chuckle and patted his horse on the side of his face.

Athenos lowered his hood, slightly askew from his undignified fall. Thus far he had taken the entire journey on the back of his horse, except on one occaision where bandits decided to alleviate the boredom.

Fieleth and Athenos found the looks on the bandits face highly amusing when a concentrated tornado ripped them all off their feet and sent them flying back from whence they came.

Athenos patted down his clothing and retrieved a scroll of heavy parchment from a pocket.

The scroll had the heavy scent of burnt incense, which wasn't surprising seeing as all the Azrac characters were in fact burnt into the parchment, rather than having been written in with the normal ink.

Athenos unrolled the parchment to its full extent. The language of his people spoke to him and the familiar smell of the desert and his home filled him.

[i]Athenos, the Human expansion of their kingdoms has threatened our borders. Their bickering and lust for land has threatened the ecos of our desert itself. The humans who have survived the heat are now destroying our villages near the oasiese. We need you to help.[/i]

Athen stopped reading. Every time he had read it he had stopped at the world 'help.' The use of the word galled him somewhat. There was still more to the letter, but he could not bring himself to read it...

Athenos re-rolled the parchment and slid it back into his robes.

Fieleth nudged him in the small of the back, the horse could tell something was up, he too knew what the letter contained. Azrac horses were more intelligent than most and were able to read the language of their trainers.

Another nudge.

Athenos sighed.

'Fieleth, I will not return to my people until I am ready...you know that..'

Another nudge, harder this time.

'Fine then, [i]our[/i] people. Fieleth, I'll think about it. First of all, we need rest and supplies. I am tired of sleeping by the wayside...and you are aswell. You never know Fieleth, you might make yourself a friend in the stables...'

Fieleth gave him a friendly nudge and trotted off, following the smell of horses to the stables. Athenos smiled to himself and walked towards the Post, sunlight catching on the back of his bald head.

[Jesus Chicken]

[I]Ben Drakenmoore looked around from his bed. It was loud downstairs, meaning that most of the regulars were drunk, or well on their way to being drunk. Ben locked the door to his room, not that such a lock would stop anyone who really wanted to get inside.

Ben took a few steps to his left, said a freindly hello to a customer walking past, and hastily opened the door to the next room.

Ben looked around, not much in here. But there was something asleep in the bed. With a bad around it's neck. Oh! Ben liked bag's that creatures kept close to them. Often that meant that there was something valuable inside. Ben steathfully crept over towards the sleeping occupant, and reached inside his bad, pulling out a blood-stained book. Hmm how dissapointing.

Ben then left the room, deciding to keep the book, for closer inspection. Perhaps it was a spellbook of somesort, hopefully not the diary it looked to be.[/I]

[Talon]

[color=teal][i]Flare decided to walk by at just that moment, inspecting rooms to make sure none of the troops had run off. He opened the door the a room and found Ben pocketing a blood-stained book. The book apparently belonged to the man in the bed. Instantly, Ben was prepared to run for his life as a four-hundred pound weretiger ws prepared to have him for dessert.[/i]

[b]Flare:[/b]Give him the book back.

[b]Ben:[/b]You're going to pester me into going straight, aren't you?

[b]Flare:[/b]I will kill you if I catch you stealing again. This man is my friend, you have his diary. It isn't important to you anyway.

[b]Ben:[/b]Damnit, why do they always have to be worthless?

[i]Flare watched Ben put the book back in its place, then sat at the foot of the bed to make sure Ben didn't come back.[/i]

[b]Figure in the Bed:[/b]I would have killed him if he'd read that book!

[b]Flare:[/b]Calm yourself, friend. Your past shall be unknown until such time as you divulge it. From what little you tld me earlier, however, I guessed that your town's destruction was the fault of someone I know.

[b]Figure:[/b]What?!?! Who?!?

[b]Flare:[/b]My father, the man I wish to kill. His virulent spirit has crushed many. He hopes only to destroy and become rich. We must get rest. Tomorrow, we have a much harder day in store.

[b]Figure:[/b]How so?

[b]Flare:[/b]I have a feeling Ben will pickpocket our way into asomething too big for us to swallow...[/color]

[Carren Heart]

I think I may have to drop out of this thread, I can't keep up with these posts (very limited time to read and post I think I'll just miss important details.)

[ColourDeaf]

A group of men sat captivated as a young adult of 19 spun a tale like none they had ever heard. A tale of strength, heroism and love all rolled into one epic saga. The young man talked with the voice of experience, the voice of one who knew it so well he might as well have been there, and his voice carried through the entire dining hall. He brought his patchwork cloak around in a huge swirl of colours as the men sat there like children at their grandfather's war stories. The young man only paused when his throat was too dry and hoarse to carry on, then he took a large swig of the mug in front of him and carried on, the tale seeming to shine in his eyes that were all-too real.
"As the bell sounded, the warrior lookedup, his sword heavy with the blood of the Ch-kai, and proclaimed that he would wait for the rose to bloom on that land before he would ever fight again. The Gods heard this and pitied him, taking that land and turning it to desert, where no flowers, weds or especially roses grew again."
He took a deep breath and bpwed, his cloak falling about him, and the men and several serving wenches who were eavesdropping burst into applause. The young man reached into his cloak and with a flourish brought a small felt bag out.
"Friends! Would you not give a poor, starving yarnspinner some alms for his supper? Have I not pleased you with my tale, oh most generous of lords and ladies?" as he looked upon them, his eyes seemed to be more sincere than humanly possible, and they all seemed inclined to give him a more....generous some than fair. His purse heavy with new coppers, silver pieces and the flashes of gold, the young man hopped off the table he had been standing at and walked to the bar. He ordered a small glass of Chalmet, an overly-sweet drink developed in the richer lands of the West. As he brought it to his lips he glanced around the room, giving the more shadier looking characters a mental nudge to seee if they were really dangerous. His gaze fell on a figure in a white cape, a young female elf staring out of the window. Llian blinked twice and walked over to her, his footsteps absoltely silent.
"A burdened mind cannot swim in a sea of thoughts." he said, his voice making her start
"Excuse me?" she said, not understanding what he meant.
He didn't mind that, few people did undertsand him.
He turned and sat down on the table, swinging his legs as he sipped his drink. He reached into his purse and produced a shiny new copper.
"Let's try something a bit simpler, shall we? Copper for your thoughts?" he placed the large coin on the table. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
"If you think that I'm going to-"
He sighed over-dramatically. He hated when he had to dumb it down.
"What I mean by that is 'You seemed troubled, I'm someone who is willing to listen, should you care to share.'" he turned to her and his eyess shone with real sincerity, even though illusion covered their true nature...

[Jesus Chicken]

[I]Ben liked this, lords and fair maidens had just payed some con artist for telling them a pack of lies. It was painfully obvious that not one word he utterred was truth. Ben sat back and watched as the man walked over to the bar, and began his next plan to take some money of a beautiful young lady.

The man was good, very good. The woman was captivated, caught in his eyes. She bought him two rounds of ale and some dinner. Roast chicken to be exact. After being fed, he let her go, not needing any more for the moment. Ben wasn't sure, perhaps he would "visit" her in the night.

He stepped out of his chair, and walked over to the man.[/I]

Ben: Well done my freind. Money from the old, food and drink from the young. Not bad at all.

Man: Thankyou. I saw your bad luck up stairs, caught by a weretiger I believe.

Ben: It doesn't matter that book only had something about his younger days in it. Sentimental value to one person and nothing to anyone else.

Man: Yes, often it is like that with people's possessions.

Ben: Ben Drakenmoore, at your service.

Man: My name is Llian, please to meet you.

[liamc2]

Athenos closed the solid oak door behind him as he entered the taproom. He made his way through the crowded tables until he reached the bar itself.

'May I ask where I can get a room?' Athenos asked brightly.

The gnome standing on a stool behind the counter raised a hairy eyebrow and jabbed a thumb at a rack of keys.

'Take one and put the coins in the box.' The gnome sqeaked before adding in an undertone that could only be acheived by a creature drinking helium, 'tho' I don't know why a priest would be interested in staying here.'

Athenos raised an eyebrow at the comment and reached for a key.

'Nah, wouldn't take that one, big pool of blood in the centre,' said a dwarf in a gravely tone over his mug.

'Ah thankyou...' Athenos reached for another key.

'Body in that one.'

And another.

'Faulty lock, dun' want that one.'

One more...

'Don't even get me [i]started[/i] on that one...'

Athenos dropped his hand. 'Well can you possibly direct me to a correct room?'

The dwarf lowered his mug and thought.

'We-ell, try that one there, good view if you like the stables...'

Athenos said his thanks and unhooked the key, dropping some silver into the appropriate box before making his way up the stairs.

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: ColourDeaf, you quite obviously didn't read the sign up thread. I didn't like your sign up, and I asked you to stay out of this. Do so.[/font][/color]

[Raquel]

Siren slipped into the water, a slight smirk on her face...

Siren: Nepenthe... How nice to see you here... I see you're still as...

She glanced to the door, then to the outside, then to the rod lying by her side...

Siren: Violent? As always...

She smiled, her pale lips parting in the unfamilliar gesture, to make it more like a action of bearing one's teeth, then a smile... She laughed and waited for the greeting Nepenthe would give

[Raiha]

[COLOr=royalblue][i]The older of the two women smiled broadly, showing her feral teeth, and lilac tongue. Her eyes slanted slightly and she barely controlled her mirth. She and Siren knew eachother from far too long ago.[/i]

Nepenthe: Salut Siren. You haven't been around to see me for far too long....

Siren: I have been very busy.

Kinrade: Wonderful...another woman.

Siren: Yes....hello...

Nepenthe: Ah yes, this is Kinrade....he is, is possible, more violent than I.

Kinrade: I killed to defend, you killed for your emotion's sake.

Nepenthe: More for my maidenhead's sake.[/COLOr]

[Jesus Chicken]

[I]Ben walked away from the bar realising that he had just had a slight lapse of skizophrenia as the preson he was talking to dissapeared into thin air. Ben looked around the bar once again, and watched as a priest walked up stairs to his room.

This was a good oportunity to obtian some more gold, considering that the preist appeared to carry gold at a pouch jangeling at his side. Too easy, Ben thought to himself.

Ben walked up the stairs, and brushed up against the man on the narrow staircase. As ben moved faster again, the preist should have noticed his left side feel a tad lighter then it had done previously, but he moved on, oblivious to Ben's actions.[/I]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Kinrade: But you enjoyed it far more...

Nepenthe: Your claiming not to have?

Kinrade: I don't remember mentioning that one....

Siren: Oh this one should work out just fine....

[I]Kinrade started to say something as two distinct peals of laughter broke out. He had a feeling that without resorting to a neat backhand to the face, he would be perhaps even overmatched here. The though made him give a snort of derison, a sound that most likely would have come out as a very angry sound, had not another yell from Kwasar covered it. Kinrade looked over, but didn't see anything of concern. Siren and Nepenthe were talking, ignoring him for the moment. Which worked out just fine for all concerned. He absently stretched his arms forward, twisting them slightly to relieve a small twinge in his elbow. Strangely enough, conversation broke off. Nepenthe was staring at his wrist, Siren at Nepenthe.[/I]

Nepenthe: So you [I]are[/I] a cleric of Belaaz.

Kinrade: As I said, no anymore.

[I]Nepenthe lifted an eyebrow.[/I]

Nepenthe: You escaped the Lord of Battle's grasp?

Kinrade: Oh sure, I was insane for a few years, and he still attempts to possess me whenever he feels like it, but he can't control me anymore.

[I]He was about to say more when Lacroix returned. He slipped into the bath, nodded to Siren and Kinrade, before turning to Nepenthe.[/I]

Lacroix: So... how's your sister?

[I]The was a shaky silence for quite a while. Kinrade chuckled over Nepenthe's discomfort. Lacroix did the same, before making small talk with Siren for a while. Nepenthe glared at him the entire time, saying nothing. Kinrade watched all three through slitted eyes, amused. Lacroix finished testing Nepenthe's patience, directing one last smile towards her. He got up, bowed flamboyantly, and left again, still uttering a low, metallic laugh. Nepenthe's gaze snapped to Kinrade, who leant back and let his rumbling chuckle unravel into a full bellowing laugh.[/font][/color][/I]

[Jesus Chicken]

[I]Ben opened the door to his room, it being about 3 in the morning he decided it was best to go to sleep. Falling back onto the covers he withdrew the small pouch of gold he had recently acquired. Hmm, Ben was just thankful the weretiger had not been watching him this time...

Not long after counting thirty gold peices he was consumed by sleep. A sleep about stealing large jewels from the minotuars room...Ben awoke that morning, early as always, with the thought of theivery still fresh in his mind.[/I]

[liamc2]

Athenos sat down on the bed in the spartan room. A small shiver ran up his spine at the cool night air. He wrapped his robes closer and a furnace like heat filled the room as he concentrated. The paint on the wall bubbled but Athenos smiled in content and sat comfortably on the covers, mind slipping into a meditative state. The absence of the moneypouch had not been noted.

Ahtenos sat and pondered the building he was in. The floorboards creaked and spoke. Snippets of conversation floated around and hit his ears. He pondered. Odd thing hearing so many different voices...so many different tongues..

A loud banging sound stirred him from his thoughts. Someone was hitting his door.

'You got a fire in there?' Barked the someone outside. 'Cos if you do, I've got the right to complain you know! My walls red 'hot in 'ere and I can't sleep. You gonna do something about it?'

Athenos rose slowly from his bed and opened the door. Burning air currents billowed out the door behind him and whistled down the corridors. The man raised his hand to protect his face from the heat. The smell of burning hair wafted the building.

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]Siren: Oh that was not nice...

Kinrade: No really, what is his connection to your sister?

[i]The female grounded out every word, her fingers clenching.[/i]

Nepenthe: She is not only blind, but also wounded beyond all measure. Lacroix was once her love....for a night....and I was happy for her.

Siren: ....I thought so.

Nepenthe: So you tell that to Lacroix for me!

[i]With a vicious wrench on her spirit, she stood up and shook her head, water droplets spraying everywhere. She closed her eyes and breathed, before slamming the doors to the bathhouse and heading upstairs.[/i][/COLOR]

[Talon]

[color=teal][i]Flare moved away from his guard post, making sure the Daywalker was awake before doing so. As he left, pounding his hand into his fist, he grinned. He was hungry. Siren walked down the hall, meeting him just in time.[/i]

[b]Flare:[/b]Icara, are you hungry?

[b]Siren:[/b]I am indeed, Weretiger.

[b]Flare:[/b]You're lucky. Tonight, I hunger for manmeat. It's a shame Lacroix ordered us not to eat his charges, though. But you may have the blood of my victims. I am VERY hungry, tonight.

[b]Siren:[/b]How fortunate of me.

[i]Flare led Siren into the nearby village, away from The Post, so as not to disturb the many patrons of Lacroix. He brought down his first kill smoothly, the woman never uttering a single sound as her neck was cut from her shoulders by a short sword. Flare allowed Siren her drink first, etiquette demanding it of him, and when she finished her meal, he devoured the tripes and organs as though they were a simple entree. As he devoured, the Æther within his blood consumed his rage, allowing him one last kill. This time, a nobleman was what his taste longed for. He crept silently through the streets, Siren aloft his shoulder. Her wings folded across the blades of her back, draping little attention around the weretiger and the odd-looking woman sitting on his shoulder. The nobleman of choice came walking around the corner, feeling much emaciated from his hard day of ordering servants to do all of his household's backbreaking labor. As the vile man rounded, he met the strangest and last sight he would ever find. The Icara jumped upon him, sinking her fingernails into his jugular and draining his crimson bodily fluid in little time. Flare grinned, his bloody fangs sinking into the soft epidermis of the ended life. Siren turned away from the gory feast of entrails, intestines, and organs as Flare ravaged his prey. When he was finished, he walked to a nearby well and cleansed his fur, face, and claws of all traces of his violent hunting tendencies. He and Siren, empty of hunger, walked back to The Post slowly, allowing time for their respective dinners to mull a bit and energize them.[/i]

[b]Siren:[/b]I haven't feasted that well in a long while. Yet it strikes me as odd that an elven weretiger would hunt for his food.

[b]Flare:[/b]No disrespect to Lacroix, his food is excellent....for an elf's taste. But I was raised to be a tiger, raised with tiger's blood. What you see is not natural to others, but for me it is home. I love being a tiger, and I was raised on tiger's food. Therefore, I hunt when I am extraordinarily hungry, or just plain tired of potatoes and stew.

[b]Siren:[/b]So it is your upbringing that gives you the hunger?

[b]Flare:[/b]Yes, and nothing but the god Shere Khanos can change it. Now, let us rest. We have a ways to walk and our recently abated appetites shall slow us.

[i]He sat at the base of a tree, humming a song about his homeland, when Siren sat next to him. She listened, wondering at the sad ballad her feral companion was remembering.[/i][/color]