• PM To Join • The Butcher's Cut

[Max]

7 Cylus, Arc 717


The morning still messed with her head. Every time she woke up, she expected to be back on that old, familiar grind. She'd stroll into The Kennel, hungover, looking rough but ready to do her employers' bidding. Dana's make a harsh quip about her appearance but inevitably give her a contract after a few bits of banter. That was all before her decision to protect Merces had led her to lose the only gig she felt she was good at. "Losing" it was probably putting it lightly. She didn't just get fired. By Dana and Gibney's personal decree, she was effectively shunned in Almund as far as the mercenary world was concerned. They'd promised her she'd never work in the town again and thus far they'd been right. The Merchant's Guild had done its duty piling the burden with higher fees, too. None of that compared to the abyss-like feeling of just...drifting again.

Idleness didn't suit her well, and so she'd taken to another day of wandering the streets in desperate hope of a break. This time she'd actually stumbled upon what appeared to be a promising scene. A man bundled up in a tattered coat and worn pants had garnered a small crowd in Almund's street. "I'm callin' bullshit tha' they can't find 'im!" his voice raised with a plume of white vapor in the cold air. "Someone stabbed me father! Righ' 'ere like a dog in the street!" Max moved closer as the other four listeners murmured their agreement.
"The old guy live?" she asked, nudging a listener beside her.
"Aye," the woman confirmed with a tired sigh. "Shady healers did good work on 'im. Poor old man. Swears he was just drinkin' at The Buckle and Chain when someone followed 'im outside."

The disgruntled son suddenly held a knife up for his listeners to view with their wide, surprised eyes. It wasn't an uncommon weapon by any means, just a butcher's knife with a red-stained, wooden handle. "I want me justice for me self!" the son continued his tirade while he still had an audience. "There'll be reward for whoever brings me the knave! Take it!" Max's brow shot up at that. The woman she'd spoken to moments ago reached up and took the knife from the son's grasp. The Rusalka curiously leaned over with her to get a better look at it.
"Ah, shite," the woman griped and immediately handed the knife over to Maxine. Her long fingernail tapped at the odd little branding on the wooden handle. "See that mark? Belongs to the butcher's shop around the corner from The Buckle and Chain. I buy there all the time. Can't be no fool, takin' a shite where I eat." She departed with a shake of her head, effectively leaving the Rusalka with the evidence.

She was technically no mercenary now. She was just another bottom-feeder, battling for scraps from whatever odd job she could find. Being marked by The Kennel made such an endeavor fleeting indeed. Yet she had to eat. It was worth a shot if nothing else. First she'd start at the butcher's shop to investigate the origins of the supposed weapon used in the assault. If that failed, she'd mosey back to The Buckle and Chain Tavern and hope that someone would give her the time of day. The best scenario she could hope for was one where an employee of the butcher's shop simply fessed up. It was a beautiful fantasy.

"Hello," Maxine voiced aloud lazily as she entered the doors of the butcher's shop. Her boots clicked as she paced to the counter, her eyes scanning the faces of each employee as she moved. "I'm hoping you can help me. See, just the funniest thing happened last night. Some guy got stabbed and," the Rusalka ceremoniously dropped the knife onto the counter with dramatic flourish, "the weapon looks an awful lot like one of yours." She let her right hand lingers down toward her hip, not clutching the hilt of her sword, but ensuring she was ready to free it of its sheath prison on the off-chance things turned sour in light of her accusation. With her other hand she gestured toward the knives in a nearby block, each bearing the same symbol as their stray brother. "Why don't you tell me how it got there?"

Boxcode Credit: Poppy

[Lavana Tharn]

Tharn

Lavana was feeling like today was going to be more interesting then usual as some woman stormed the store like a typhoon of fem fatal fury. Kitchen knife nonchalantly dropped on the counter, as it pinged and clattered on the the hard surface for added dramatic effect as it bounced a bit.

The accusations that came afterward, seemed really shady l and Lavana was still trying to drink this whole situation in. But she couldnt help but giggle just a little "That certainly sounds funny to me, maybe he came into the store stole the knife felt bad that he took it and stabbed himself with it? "She seemed to crack a diabolic shit eating grin, like she was hoping to get her all salty with her next sentence." I think the real joke is expecting me to believe that someone took a knife that could identify them of a crime then you know just happen to leave it behind willy nilly." Lavana relaxed and slid against the glass display case and from behind it rested her head on one of her hands as she lazily picked up the kitchen knife gazing at it with her amber eyes letting it capriciously twirl and dance in the clutches of her fingers as she evaluated its worth with a certain disregard. " besides why break in for the shitty knife when we got the tools and skills to dismantle bodies, if it was one us hed be hamburger and youd be eating him." She gave her a sultry look as her laugh became just a little wicked

" Theres another serial killer out loose, calling himself the prince of eternal mercies. If you ask me though Mercy is for the birds."

She laughed a bit, as she pointed the murder weapon at the wall.

"Heard hes a real lady killer, maybe your boy was a bitch aye? Confusion maybe?"

It was a leaflet with a bird man plastered on it it was a real ugly looking half avriel that was sort of creepy he was going by the name cuckoo and the moniker prince of eternal mercies. His reward was -Ten Thousand- gold nel it was the kind of money that a person could change there lives with or waste it on one hell of a party and enough liquer that could drag em out like a rip tide and drown there sorrows.

[Max]

She should've known better. Of course a simple, straight-forward answer couldn't have been the attendant's response. On a perfect trial, she would've simply admitted to the sin and Max could've happily gone back to reap her reward. Instead she was (probably rightfully) met with cheeky lines that seemed more intent on pissing the interrogator off than anything else. Max breathed a laugh and turned her head to the side to eye the woman. If it wasn't for the useful bit at the end about a serial killer, she might've committed the second deadly assault on that block within the last twenty four breaks.

Max looked around the butcher with squinting eyes to peer at the leaflet she gestured to. She was no reader, but there was enough detail on the page that even the most illiterate viewer could decipher the overall message. The first thing she noticed was the large print denoting the impressive ten thousand gold nel reward. When she studied the drawing above it, however, thoughts of wealth and comfort vacated her mind. The blood briefly ran from her face. She quickly adverted her gaze as though the creature were real, staring at her with those menacing red eyes no one could probably forget once they'd seen them. To think she'd shared a drink with the literal lady killer just last season. Did Dana just send her on a suicide mission to hunt him down?

No. This woman just said he kills women, and this stabbing I'm investigating was too sloppy. This has to be someone else. It has to.

"Look," Max sighed and leaned her forearms onto the counter with a cocked eyebrow. "I don't want to be in here bothering you any more than you want to stand here listening to me. Just...give me something." She shook her head and looked about the business full of slain animals of all shapes and sizes. "Are you missing any cutlery? Did you hear or see anything last night?" Ironically, on most nights she would've been at the Buckle and Chain Tavern herself. She would've made an incredibly poor witness for her own case though. "Word is it happened just around the corner outside the bar. Help me figure out who this son of a bitch is, and I won't let it slip to anyone else I have to question that it might've been by one of your knives."

It unintentionally sounded like blackmail, but it was a worthy threat. Whether or not the butcher's shop had anything at all to do with the assault was something to be determined, but a clean reputation would do nothing to protect the business from the bottom-feeding gossipers that thirsted for scandal. Max was becoming a skilled liar and a bit infamous around Almund. While some might've considered her untrustworthy thanks to the slander The Kennel had spread, there was always a chance some of her more noteworthy gambling associates would lend an ear for old time's sake.

Boxcode Credit: Poppy

[Lavana Tharn]

Tharn

It seemed the picture on the wall made her heart skip a beat just a bit, it truly was a fine conversation piece. And just the way the merc interrogator averted her gaze; she sort of haphazardly sucked the wind out of her sails in terms of being viewed as impregnable as there were cracks in that armor and she exposed them with fear and dread even if admittedly Lavana had the same reaction to the Cuckoos caricature. The merc wreaked like she was sweating liqueur. As this mysterious and charismatic woman however decided to meet her a little closer to raise her brow.

"Someone you know? I wouldnt worry so much, I said he was a lady killer." Lavana teased a bit it was in the tone of how she spoke the verbal presentation that made it obviously obnoxious humor, to observe her and playfully joust and jab with wordplay as she she expected her to have a thick enough hide to fire back as Lavana was enthralled by flirting with danger. Lavana really liked the mercenary and was a bit taken back and wanted play with a bit of word fuckery and wit. Maybe just maybe Lavana enjoyed the company of this crass bitch, and maybe the idea of joining her stirred curiosity and wonder in a painfully dull purgatory of ruthless monotony. This mercenary seemed almost like a magnet for terrible shit or maybe it was terribly fun shit. But bullshit aside she was already tempted by jer offer it was almost in her second nature.

"Listen its like I said before, i dont think its any of us. I feel like that butcher knife was left on purpose, but if you want something from me lean in a little closer and ill kiss you so good you'll forget about the gold and ale for a while." Lavana genuinly liked her wild nature and savage spirit so she put herself out there in an attempt to get closer to the flames of her chaotic mortal coil and she found herself bewitched with this lady of brutal violence, let her know what was on the table was indeed real if she so desired it but in a way that the mercenary had to reach out and claim it. It was in the presentation, take it or leave it.

But Lavana never was one to disappoint.

"Yea id be happy to help threats aside, maybe we should go take a look at this body, or the crime scene? Or would you prefer to take a look around here, i can show you the back room if youd like?"

Lavana put the butcher knife down, and waited to see where this woman wanted to go.

[Max]

Max raised a brow at the woman's snark and met her remark with naught but a stare. She meant business, and thankfully, the employee moved on to at least give some useful input...until it devolved into games again. The Rusalka leaned in further, teasingly so, and a smirk spread across her lips. "I need so much of the two, not even Vri's lips could distract me from such desire," she purred before she quickly stepped back from the counter. She snatched the the knife from the counter the moment it was put down. "Why don't you show me where you keep others like this one?" The thought of Merces entered her mind. The smirk on her face widened. "And if you try to show me anything more than the back room, I'm afraid I won't be able to convince my man from coming back here to burn you alive."

The implication the employee was willing to show her the back room of the business was enough for Max to take advantage of the offer. Always suspicious, she watched the other woman even as she casually vaulted over the counter and led herself into the back room. It was nothing one wouldn't expect from a butcher shop. Animals slain, skinned, and strung lined the ceilings on one side from thick hooks. Maxine passed by the big scale on a back table in favor of the tools.

Her fingertips gently brushed against the wooden handles of each knife on the counter she passed. Some blades appeared thin or thick, long or short, the variety available was more than she'd ever thought necessary for carving meat and splitting off limbs. Her index finger grazed an unwarranted space between the laid out knives with a furrowed brow. She lifted the knife from the scene of the assault and carefully placed it down to rectify the break in pattern. Sure enough, the carving knife she'd brought seemed to complete the set.

"It fits," Maxine stated the obvious, lifting the carving knife again and turning to the employee with an uncertain gaze. The woman's similar sense of humor made the Rusalka want to believe she wasn't the person she'd been looking for. She could trust no one, even if she wanted to. "Has anyone else other than you been back here?" Her fingers curled around the wooden handle of the knife ever so subtly as she eyed the suspect. She couldn't help herself. Maxine had been burned too many times before.

Boxcode Credit: Poppy

[Lavana Tharn]

Tharn

What could she say?

Lavana told her interrogator if she leaned in shed kiss her as she got real close, and as the mercenary obliged and smirked as if to make a liar out of her there was no real way to genuinly back out without tarnishing her reputation for keeping her word. Lavana did exactly as shed say, after all anything less was breaking a promise and that would make Lavana a cunt, she didnt fancy herself one of those unless the situation called for it, so she would keep her word . Not only this but Lavana certainly wasnt going to be made out to be one either, so it was double jeapordy was she a doer or a saber rattler.

Her intention was simply a peck on the lips unless the mercenary pulled away, body language was crucial if this woman backed out shed win and Lavana would keep her pride in this game of chicken shit. It took courage, heart and balls of steel to play that game or she was just crazy, Lavana knew this bitch could probably break her face in a fell swoop.

Of course it was also on a kitchens open basis, this mercenary could have it all if she wanted it as Lavana was a giver. But it was a funny thing to say about booze and money as her primary desires, as she courted an unbeknownst imperial princess and although such a thing was even unclear to herself; it was clear she was favored.

She shrugged "looks like im at your mercy" Lavana was pretty quick on retort "but it warms my heart to know youd have to have him do me in" she smiled "Feels like im moving up in the world, bottom bitch or not guess im your bitch aye?"

Lavana would show her around towards the backroom as she lept over the counter. It was impressive. "Be mindful of your steps, the floors are a mess"Lavana wouldnt want her friend to slip on bloodied floors and do herself in the red slick had the potential to be treacherous as she soaked in the beauty of her humble workplace, this is where she desired to be with the meat cutters but she was a sales clerk that did final trimmings.

Now this was interesting, Lavanas amber eyes lit up at the prospect of it being one of the cutters. She knew she said earlier it didnt make sense. But if it was one of the night crew, the manager would be forced to have to let her work in the back. Shed finally be able to get her foot in the door and carve carcasses it was fantastic, almost too good to be true even.

Lavana seemed to hesitate for a moment, as she weighed her options. On one hand she didnt want to come off as uncool, on the other if she truly valued this person she wouldnt lie. She sighed " I'm not really allowed back here, but there are several people that work parting the game. Different schedules, night shift is ... let me see Daris i think thats probably the best place to start " she felt kind of small confessing she wasnt allowed to work the animals only the final preperations before packaging. "You know. I never got your name, people call me Alva or Alvana but you can call me Lavana" she slipped what looked to be twine from her neck but as it worked itself out there was a silvery glimmer with an amethyst stone, the back carried an imperial seal of the empress raskalarn "I dont know why, but im compelled to give this to you as a friend. And ill tell you what, if its true its Daris ill be working back here living my dream. So ill give this to you in trust this is my prized possession. Its not my business, but you look hungry. You come by and still have this and ill feed you at my own expense; every time no questions. Cause that's what friends do you got my word. And i think you know how i feel about that."She smiled as she evaluated the situation appraising its worth to herself valuing the cost of her trust in this person. As she attempted to slip the pendent over her head if shed allow it. "You get burned alot i can tell, i came from an orphanage myself so i know what its like to fight for every inch. But your a crazy bitch, i value them cause they loyal." With this mortal born having faith was the key, the sky was the limit with her generosity so long as she would have faith in her. She was clearly an important person to Lavana, as she was compelled to give in a way that would let her be a beautiful garden rose. For you see if you pick a wild flower they wilt and die but if you leave them and nurture they do return.

The mortal born seemed to think if it was Daris they could find him.

"Maybe we should head to that tavern and ask if he was about? He was supposed to be working last night, if he was seen maybe he left work on his break.

My shift is over anyway, mind if i tag along?

I need to stop at my place for a minute."

[Max]

The other woman was taking a trill too long to reply for Max's taste. Her grip on the carving knife was white-knuckled as soon as she decided the brief silence had been too long. Tension eased only when the hesitation seemed to be due to some sort of internalized shame on the employee's part. Apparently this woman wasn't technically permitted in the back room like the others, namely a man going by Daris. Max pursed her lips. She, personally, had done a lot that she was never allowed to do either. Rules and laws never stopped her. Daris was now the new person of interest, but the employee in her midst now wasn't off the hook yet.

"I'm Max," the Rusalka answered simply when Lavana requested her name. She was so preoccupied with considering how she'd find and approach Daris, she almost didn't notice her acquaintance placing a strange necklace around her neck. Max turned toward Lavana with a bewildered expression. Her free hand rose to lift and turn the amethyst stone before her eyes. The seal on its backside was familiar, but the meaning was escaping her. Perhaps she'd seen it when she was being passed around Idalos from orphanage to orphanage, or when she sailed the seas with the Biqaj.

Why would she give me, a complete stranger, something of such personal worth? Why does she care if I go hungry? This kindness makes no sense!

Maxine's brow furrowed. It seemed premature to consider themselves friends considering the Rusalka had only met her bits ago. Her mind reeled to find the angle that Lavana must've been playing. After all, she had mentioned the convenience of Daris being the culprit, which would then earn her that coveted position that allowed her access to the back room. The necklace might've really been a buy to see the promotion come to fruition. Such intentions would've been sinister indeed, and yet, Max wasn't in a position to refuse a proposed friendship in exchange for free food. If getting rid of Daris kept her fed when her pride couldn't, she'd consider it a worthy moral sacrifice. If nothing else she could always pawn the gift for Nels.

Max was still teasing out the whirling thoughts of conspiracy in her head when Lavana seemed to make an expert assumption on her background. Her caramel eyes snapped up to study the face of the woman, and her perplexity deepened when she found that the words had seemed oddly sincere. "Thank you," the orphan carefully managed. She considered Lavana again with lips pressed into a thoughtful line before she relented. "Fine. You can come along. I'll need you to point this Daris guy out anyways." Against her better judgement, she slipped the knife back into the pocket of her coat.

The Rusalka turned on her heels and strode back into the main room, this time taking the time to round the counter rather than making haste with another hop over its surface. She grasped the handle of the exit and paused, remembering only then that she hadn't communicated her thoughts to her new friend. "Well?" Maxine called to the woman with a raised brow. "Let's get a move on. We'll make a very quick stop at your place. Then it's straight to the Buckle and Chain Tavern." The Mixed Blood adjusted her jaw. The weight of the necklace felt foreign where the stone rested on her skin. That, or it was the implied meaning behind it that gave it true weight.

Boxcode Credit: Poppy

[Lavana Tharn]

Tharn

Lavana nodded happily, so Max was her name.

But as she followed what she believed a mercenary she got the impression maybe she was about to be left behind. That feeling of abandonment and being discarded loomed in worry on her face, but it quickly subsided when she said lets go. She was quick to nod her head in compliance as she followed Max out the door the door and lead the way to her humble apartment it was a disheveled dump of a building.

Lavana might have been a hundred and thirty, but at her core she was just a lost child. Lavana may have found a kindred spirit, her angle for gifting her was simple it was natural instinct Max was an embodiment of her domains a vassal of brutality incarnate the necklace paltry to what she truly deserved as shed go from zero to murderous rampage at the drop of a copper and it was magnificent. The truth was she wanted a friend a new hero to replace Valtharn, a champion to draw arms against those that might seek to do her harm as she drew strength from Maxs cut throat spirit as she was willing to unchain herself from morality and law and be wild she was truly free.

Kura exposed her, made her feel uncomfortable and had greeted her in a way that was a pause for concern. And a darker side of her nature reveled, in discomfort. Lavana placed an internal wager if shed kill for her friends so would she, to her Max was the baddest bitch on the playground. Who better to be friends with? A do nothing stand around cunt? Or a savage bitch that had your back? Lavanas choice in company might seem outlandish to some, but in her minds eye it was the only sensible decision.

"Would you like to come in, Max?" She didnt have too but if she did Lavana headed up the stairs and opened the door. Plain poor filthy a bit wretched the only thing useful about the claustrophobic room was a closet. Her bed, was worn and beaten but at least she had something to sleep on. When she opened it there was a set of gear set up nicely and organized, she was busy rummaging and getting ready. Using the closet door to conceal herself as she got ready for an exciting adventure.

Adorning herself in high grade leather armor that was lavished with the trimings of not an imperial soldier but with the frill and peacocking of a commanding officer. The leathers were old very old from a different time and place older then herself even, but managed to survive from maintenance done with tender love and care, it would look out of place out and out of style but armor eerily suited the young and youthful appearing Lavana. Those emroidered leafings and artistry were screaming imperial legion nobility, these belonged to someone of stature and rank not some peasant butcher.

Lavana also had a fine dagger that she had strapped at her hip, it was an arkansa toothpick style blade a combat dagger made for quick and slick thrusting to inflict grievous mortal wounds and killing.

Her good highland claymore she slung to her back it was hefty as it was made of a solid piece of polished bronze and while most smiths found the metal extremely difficult to work in a standard method it must have been poured into a some kind of cast then cooled and worked from a solid sword shaped piece it was intricate and involved craftsmanship and outside the box thinking but even if considered less then steel the handle and guard gleamed and glimmered elegantly like gold exposed from the leather sheath. for all that effort there was a purpose its weight was designed to break a man behind plate rather then cut em clean. And the final touch to her trappings were a pair of heavy studded bronze gauntlets and sabatons the studs deeply pyramid shaped designed to fracture and part bone like skull crushers. Heavy metal turned her unarmed strikes into potentially malicious murder weapons.

She was dressed and ready to go, she looked like a relic in the gear she deserted the imperial legion in. Some sixty or seventy years ago as she stepped away from the door to reveal herself or out the door depending on her choices.

" So, which way we going to get to the buckle and chain?" As she looked at Max for the answer, "I was always curious about mercenary work as a side job, you work for the kennels? Maybe you could put in a good word for me"Lavana asked inquisitively, it seemed like a normal enough question to ask her mercenary friend.

[Max]

Considering Lavana worked at the butcher's in a position that didn't even allow her to apparently carve the meat herself, Max had little reason to expect the woman lived any sort of lavish lifestyle. Like nearly every other house in the area of Almund they'd traveled to, the domicile wasn't anything special. It wasn't like the Mixed Blood led a noble-worthy life filled with material wealth either. She minded little the state of the interior as she followed Lavana up the stairs and into the room. Curiosity alone kept her from waiting outside for her companion to gather whatever it was she'd needed to retrieve. One could discover quite a bit about a person by observing their personal spaces. She was interested in what she might be able to find.

While the other woman rummaged through her closet and changed behind a door, the Rusalka looked about her surroundings. There was nothing that alarmed her. It was about as average looking inside as it was outside. The break from status quo only occured when Lavana emerged from behind the closet in an entirely new outfit. There was no concealing her expression. Max's brow rose in clear surprise. The lowly butcher's assistant toted no common garb by any means. The leather and the armor was otherworldly and out of touch with the current fads of the times. The Rusalka had certainly never seen anything like it. This was not the attire beholden to one of low birth, but to someone with high decorations and honors from the battlefield. This turn of events had completely broken the mold from what Max had deduced about the woman. None of it made sense.

Either she's got family ties to the real owner of that armor, she somehow managed to kill the original owner, or she was lucky enough to scavenge it.

Maxine eyed the dagger, massive sword, and rough set of gauntlets with a slow nod. She'd nearly forgotten they were supposed to be looking for Daris until the woman reminded her. She was prepared to lead the way to the Buckle and Chain when the next question caught her off-guard. Her light caramel eyes darkened a bit. "No," she simply replied in reference to whether she worked for The Kennels. She could've elaborated, cursed out Dana and Gibney, and declared her firing a miscarriage of justice whether that final fact was true or not. Instead of she left it with her simply answer. She didn't want to invite any follow-up questions and find herself expected to explain her feelings for the business. "I work for myself and myself alone."

The Mixed Blood turned and led the way back down the stairs and out the door. Once back on the street, it became clear that she knew this area of Almund well enough. She could find the Buckle and Chain was almost anywhere at this point, and this trial was no different. When they approached the door she paused to glance again at Lavana's get-up. "Gods," she stated. "Where'd you think we were going next? A damned battlefield?" She shook her head and shoved the door open.

Inside was nearly the same as every other trial. The same regulars sat in the same chairs. The same prostitutes were seated in familiar lips or leaning provocatively over a gambling table, hoping to steal a player's focus from the game for but a tempting bit to consider their offer. The Buckle and Chain Tavern was likely one of the last places in Almund where she could count on at least a handful of friendly faces. That was on a good trial, and well, there was fewer to be found than usual. Max set her jaw. She still have a reward to pursue.

"Alright," Max murmured to Lavana once the pair were inside. She gestured carelessly toward the modest crowd before them with a bored expression. Her gaze was focused on Lavana rather than the sea of faces. The last thing she wanted to do was tip Daris off that they might be looking for him. "See that friend of yours around?"

Boxcode Credit: Poppy

[Lavana Tharn]

Tharn

"Bitch please, dont oh gods me!" Lavana laughed as she teased "Im armed to the teeth and with you as a friend I feel woefully unprepared for whatevers behind that door, be like the aftermath of one of Valtharns campaigns you should have seen the bodies strewn out as far as the eye could see." She smiled fondly "Its the crows though you cant forget, you know they eat the dead and dying a flock of them is called a murder." She seemed lost for a moment, fond memories of a golden age lost to the sands of time "That was a life time ago though, how far we fall. Sometimes life aint fair and gives us a shit hand, might as well play my what I got." was the last statement she gave, of course how long was a life time ago with a woman that appeared youthful and radiant in her twenties? Shed made the decision if Max wanted answers she could have them.

"Its alright fuck the kennel, then". Lavana wasnt going to pry, maybe if she had though raskalarns daughter would have alluded to setting up a game plan similar to the imperial legions protocol when it came to comandeerimg human resources as they often took generals of fallen armies into there inner circle could the same be done to lost banner men?. " Its alright, I got a feeling we will work well together." As she followed Max through the door.

It was a cess pool just like she imagined, she might have found better company in an out house but it did have its alluring charm. Could almost feel a dubious vibe off the place, gambling, prostitutes, piss warm ale what they served was probably refilled from some guy that hadnt finished his cup in a drunken slunk over stupor. It was different it was close to death but it was miles away from her comfort of the butcher shop at least there was a natural order of the appropriation of meat off the bone in a clandestine survival game of predator and prey. Lavana understood what Max meant, she didnt fit in and she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd she was dressed like a warrior not a thief or stab jack.

"I think thats him, the one face first in that pickled lookin tavern wench. " Lavana nodded her head in the direction of Daris. Lavana couldnt help but giggle a bit as she tried to contain her frivolous behavior as she averted to dark humor to shield her anxiety. "Ya think making out with an undead sea hag, be punishment enough. Im sure you will make your point though" Lavana had a feeling shit was gonna get ugly, and maybe just maybe a part of her was looking forward to it there was a glimmer almost diabolic that twinkled like starlight amongst the flames of lantern light in an amber gaze that was nothing short of blood lust.

The apple of her eye was the violence and the savagery of war. Where the butchers assumed the battlefield carving man and beast in epic slaughter. Sacrificial in nature, for only a chosen few may benefit as they stacked there corpses and climbed there bloody mountains to there castles in the sky. It was a pleasure denied to her, Max was everything she fantasized Valtharn to be..

Shed never admit, but secretly she felt she was about to live a dream cruely denied to her.