Drinks and Drunkards (Open)

[Noth]

Ashan 110, 717

Loose ends held a complicated spot in the twilight hybrid’s heart. On one side of the spectrum, a loose end could be used positively, especially when one had only just begun to make someone’s acquaintance, or when they might be necessary for a further role in a plot. On the other side of the spectrum, however, a loose end could be a nagging thorn in the side of future exploits, and had the potential of spoiling even the best laid plans. The philosophical thoughts on the nature of loose ends distracted him as he trod ever onwards, a torch guiding his path, and the quiet clinking of armor keeping him company. It was a shame that the shadows of the night drove all of his avian friends to their roosts, and kept them locked away from singing their beautiful and majestic songs, but he could do nothing to change it. At least he still had the company of Vern whenever it was required, though the goose could do little in the way of singing.

It had been nearly a break, but gradually the thickets and thistles and trees gave way to the burning brightness of lit fires, and the anticipation of warmth and comfort unconsciously crept into the murderous Avriel’s mind. He trudged onwards, trampling an unseen stick in his path and allowing the echo of its shattering to sound throughout the forest. There was no resounding reply, nor even a hint of attention given to him, and so he continued onwards to his destination.

It was a relatively quiet tavern; certainly not as raucous as the ones within the city, and yet it carried its own atmosphere. It was not the type of place where fresh-faced young academics spent their time after classes, and it certainly wasn’t the manner of establishment that one brought their family anywhere near. The door was creaky and frustrating to open, but eventually the hybrid slammed the thing against the back wall, and entered into the establishment. A burly and greying man with a curling moustache sat at the bar, chuckling with a customer as he slid a drink towards the absolutely hammered fellow. He continued his laughter, but Noth had the inkling feeling that it was a falsified and deceitful act, and the way his eyes locked onto the hostile looking bird seemed to hint at a predatory smartness behind his eyes.

Those same eyes glanced away immediately at the sound of a broken bottle at a back table, and he gave an exasperated sigh as he went to grab his cleaning equipment; the speed of his retrieval clearly revealed how often such events occurred. The antagonist of such acts was a chubby fellow who seemed to have spilled nearly half of the contents of his glass onto himself based upon the checkered red stains that highlighted his clothes, and he boisterously laughed at himself as he laid down a single golden Nel.

“I’m so sorry, Jasper! These fine ladies were telling me such a thrilling story, and it must have slipped my mind where the bottle was!”

Jasper remained relatively quiet, whispering something along the lines of acceptance of the apology, and he silently pocketed the Nel before wiping away the liquid upon the floor.

It was a pity that Jasper would have to clean more crimson from the ground before the night had ended.

Noth stared at the chubby man for a few more moments, observing how his stomach heaved and waved like the ocean with every gesticulation and chuckle, and he immediately knew that the cluster of flustered women around him didn’t care for his appearance. No, and they certainly weren’t those who cared for personality either, for the man was frankly gluttonous. It took the hybrid a few moments of observation to hear the jingle of Nels that bounced with every collision of his fat rolls, and that revealed the motive of the ladies to him.

The Avriel spun around to the bar, finding Jasper glaring into his soul with that same predatory intellect. He dumped glass shards into a nearby bin, and then went about idly working a rag around a loose glass.

“That’s the Marquis, though he’s not really royalty. He shows up every seven trials come rain or snow or plague, and holds a little story telling competition.” Jasper nodded towards the garbage bin, “He’s a bit of a mess to be honest, but he pays good Nel.”

The loud and almost forced giggling of an entranced female shattered the peace for an instance, and Noth turned to see the Marquis leading away one of his entourage, the rest looking fairly dejected as he stepped outside of the tavern with her.

“I ‘ear he pays extra to the ones who can… re-enact the more thrilling parts of their stories.” The aging fellow simply shook his head, a roguish grin creeping onto his face as he laid down the glass.

“How terribly kind of him.” The hybrid replied, watching as the torchlight of the pair disappeared into the darkness of a hidden path. Immediately, he wondered if he might catch the Marquis with his pants down; in this case literally, and rob him of those jingling coins that he flaunted about the place, but those thoughts were dismissed. He was not here to scout for potential targets, but instead to locate specific ones.

“Don’t see many of your kind around here. Always too proud to show up, and the ones that do are always too proud to leave standing.” Jasper spoke, his voice decidedly threatening merely by its lack of emotion, and Noth watched as the older man sliced himself a piece of rough bread with a kitchen knife the size of his arm.

“So then, my feathered friend. What brings you to my tavern, and what will you be ordering.”

Noth simply grinned; his facial features somewhat hidden by his feathers, and quickly removed the bronze helmet from his head, laying it down gently upon the counter.

“I hear the ale here is simply delightful, and I imagine I’ll be far more talkative after a drink or two.” There were no mirrors, but Noth could feel the glint in his eyes, and Jasper simply nodded, fetching his ingredients and pouring them into a glass. He had played this game before, and a bartender was always on the lookout for loose lips and whispered secrets. He had even gotten quite good at the game, but Noth knew something that he wouldn’t know until the end of the night.

Poor Jasper was playing the wrong game.

[Nightshade Eld]

It had been some time since the half breed last entered a tavern, even longer since she'd drunk a drop of anything potentially inebriating. Tonight wasn't the night for such an act, but it wouldn't be long now before she decided to forsake her better judgement for one night of simple, unintelligent bliss. One day where she wouldn't have to notice the glares or play the puppet on the Etzori string. Tonight wasn't going to be that night though. She was more interested in getting a meal and possibly some leads. In the trials prior she'd learned some interesting tidbits of information. Some of which she hoped to act upon as they could aid her in the future.

The lead she was specifically hunting now, well, she'd keep that to herself. There wasn't any point in spoiling the ending when she hadn't begun to play the game yet. Through the darkness of the late Ashan day she trekked, her feet crunching against the earth as she moved. It would frankly be impossible to sneak up on anyone right now. Even at as dim as she could get it, the glowing band of light around her arm gave her existence away. She huffed slightly. The blessing, in recent days, had been both a drawback and a boon. She would never cease to be grateful for it, but it had already cause a little trouble with the Etzori who had the capability to recognize it. But she was usually able to play it off as the fact the blessing wasn't much of a choice. She really hoped that Qylios didn't mind... Surely the lady of the light would understand the danger of the situation she was in?

As she approached the tavern she could hear a slight moaning off in the darkness... She didn't want to know. She really, really, badly didn't want to know. Her attention instead turned to the beacon of warmth. The tavern was truly a blessing all things considered. The wave of warmth and light that came to her the moment she stepped instead made the entire trip worth it, the two things had lately been attracting her like a moth. She wasn't sure if it was because of the blessing or some kind of subconscious desire. Either way though, she enjoyed the happiness it caused to be out of the gloom.

She only gave pause for a moment before locating the target of her visit. She often didn't notice things when she considered herself to be on the job, this time was no exception. Her eyes darted right past Noth, not even realizing there was another half avriel in the room let alone that it was Noth himself. She just walked towards a man drinking alone off in a corner. He was the last kind of person Nightshade would intentionally approach given her free will and choice under normal circumstance, but last time she checked this wasn't normal circumstance. It was something a little greater than that, perhaps a little more dangerous. "Excuse me, I want to talk to you about-"

"I ain't talking tonight lady. Especially not to your kind," the man grunted and turned away from the half avriel.

"So you'll only talk to trash, is it?" She asked, her tone taking on a light and innocent airiness to it. The man growled at her, narrowing his eyes.

"Listen you feathered trash," he started but was quickly cut off.

"No, you listen. I'm done getting pushed around by everyone in this city. I don't deserve it, not after everything I've done for you people. Hell, even if you live outside Etzos you might not be alive today if it wasn't for me hunting bandits at the constant that I do. I demand a little respect," she said with a narrow of her eyes. "Now, for the first time in a long time I'm going to be greedy. I need you to tell me everything that you know about a town called Yorskmir."

"Yorskmir? That's a name I haven't heard in a long time. I was stationed there until it got attacked, lost my job and a leg as a result," the man said. He rested a hand on the wooden prosthetic he'd been able to scrounge up. "Why do you want to know?"

"The only avriel living in the town at the time, I want to know about him, I want to know where he lived at the time, and I want to know how to get to the town," she said. The half breed completely ignored his question.

The man went silent for a couple trills, the dots connecting in his head. "By Faldrun's balls, your Karmin and Evaryin's kid. I thought you would of been dead by now. Or at least long gone..." The man said his voice becoming quiet, hushed as low as it could possibly be. The half breed paused for a moment and nodded in response. "Evaryin was the only 'good' avriel I met my entire life over. I have to admit I actually owed the man my life once or twice over in my day. I thought he and his family were all dead so I forgot about my debt. He recoiled from the world so far after Karmin's death. If you're his kid then I guess I owe that debt to you," the man said. His eyes had become distant and foggy.

"You got a quill?" He asked out of no where. The half breed nodded, reaching for her wings and plucking a suitable feather. The man took it, pulling out a piece of paper and some ink. "It's not very good but this is a map with some instructions. It should get you to Yorskmir. I can't really show you where your dad used to live, but you should be able to know. The entire town is abandoned, his is one of the few left mildly standing. You should be able to just check houses until you find the one that had a basement full of weapons. If the bandits didn't get to it, it's because Evaryin put as much money as he could into the lock. It has three keys, I'll write down the location of two of them on the letter. The last is here," the man handed the half breed a letter. "He told me if I ever crossed paths with you, to give you this letter. The third key or instructions to get it should be inside."

The half breed took the letter gratefully. This was even better than she intended things to go. Which meant something had to go wrong. Right on time a bottle flew past her head, barely missing her thanks to a drunken hand throwing it. Similarly a bottle was flung at Noth by a different man. The two were sitting at the same table, now standing and looking rather infuriated. "Get out of here your stupid Flappers," they drunkenly slurred.

"Good gentlemen, I assure you that I'm nearly gone," the black haired woman growled. She finally made note of Noth, but made sure to ignore him for the time being unless he actually decided to approach her. After all, he'd made it quiet clear what their relationship was.

[Noth]

The drink was surprisingly not awful. It had a cinnamon taste to it that he hadn’t quite expected, and he found himself sipping far more frequently upon the ale than he had originally intended. Admittedly, it wasn’t as if though he would be incapacitated or inebriated by a single glass of ale, but he still had to force himself to return the mug to its place upon the bar table so that he might continue his conversation with Jasper. Crimson eyes glanced upwards from the nursed ale, and wandered about the room, once more examining its inhabitants before settling upon the aging barkeep. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think of Jasper, but he had certainly lived up to the bravado that seemed to surround his name in certain less than pleasant circles. Noth had heard plenty of stories about the bartender and his adventures, but it was difficult to discern what was true and what was entirely falsified.

That lack of knowledge kept Noth on his proverbial toes for any signs of past traits, especially since he intended to push poor Jasper quite far in his pursuit for knowledge, and yet he didn’t desire to make him overtly aggressive with his questioning. He reached over, allowing his feathered fingers to apply pressure once more to the mug as he brought it to his mouth, slurping at the delightful cinnamon drink with a cheery abandon before placing the empty container back upon its resting place.

The bartender returned from serving another patron at the far end of the bar, and Noth took keen notice of the drops of sweat beginning to bead upon his forehead.

“Busy night?” He inferred, resting his eyes upon Jasper as he gently tapped the edge of his mug with a finger, signaling for a refill.

“No more than usual. Always gets to be about this way around this time. Every’un wants themselves a nightly drink before bed. Stuff puts ya to sleep anyhow.” He grinned, refilling the mug and tapping his own finger upon the table. The twilight hybrid could see that it was stained with dirt, and he wondered what manner of physical activity the bartender might busy himself with when he was working his primary occupation.

“I hope you’ll be paying tonight.” The grin vanished as a mock sort of shock crossed his face, as though he was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t already been reimbursed.

“Of course. Get a lot of scum not wanting to fill their tabs?” He questioned, placing a pair of bronze nels upon the table with a gentle click that seemed to empower the barkeep with reassurance.

“For the most part we don’t service that sort, but every now and then we’ll get someone not wanting to pay up. Gets mighty rough ‘round these parts when that ‘appens.” He smirked confidently, and wandered back down towards the other end of the bar where he began to fill drinks once more.

He hadn’t gotten the information that he desired, but Noth knew that any good interrogation started with a little bit of background, and a little bit of trust. If he established himself only as a curious patron and nothing more, then perhaps Jasper would be more willing to share the knowledge that he truly desired when the time came.

The Avriel noticed the flicker of a nearby candle before he heard the whooshing whine of wind against an open door, but nonetheless, he became innately aware that someone had entered the drinking shack, and he lazily joined in the favorite ritual of the patrons; staring at whoever had opened the door and let all of that cursed cold inside. The laziness vanished from his face in an instant as he identified the fellow hybrid who strode into the room. She seemed far more confident than when he had last seen her, and questions as to her well-being flooded his mind in an instant, only to be drowned out by the shrieking cry of an internal voice telling him to focus upon the task at hand.

The Hawk was a cruel and merciless taskmaster, but at the very least he was an efficient one.

It was funny. He was here in part because of her actions, though he supposed he needed to take some credit for the events too. It may have been the excitement of seeing Nightshade that made him more uppity and far too quick for his own good, but when Jasper returned towards his side of the bar, he started questioning him once more.

“Speaking of scum. You wouldn’t have happened to have heard anything about a pair of fellows working with exotic animals?” It was blunt, terribly blunt, but the reply was far worse.

“Nope. ‘fraid not.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. You see, I was hoping to purchase some manner of exotic creature for my… nephew, and I was hoping you might have heard about som-“

“Listen friend. I don’t quite think you understand how this works. I know you prim and proper birds always think you get what’s going on, but clearly you’ve got no idea.” Jasper interrupted, tapping his finger again on the table. The meaning wasn’t completely lost on the Avriel.

“I’m sure we could work out some method of paym-“. Something heavy and clearly empty based on its dull thudding slammed against his back, shattering into several large chunks as it made contact with his hauberk. There was no pain, but the social implication of what had just occurred combined well with the jeering taunts of a pair of drunks near the end of the tavern in the goal of infuriating the Avian. The plural use of the word caused him to cast another glance at Nightshade who stated that she would be leaving.

“Nightshade.” He spoke, calling to her with a single word.

Crimson orbs of hateful fire placed themselves once more upon the pair of drunken fools who had dared assail him and his… friend.

He began to step forward, slowly, eerily slowly, allowing for the tension between the groups to build as he neared their table.

They continued jeering. “Din’t ya ‘ear me ya stupid bird! Too many feathers in yer ears er somethin’?”

He continued his advance without fail, drawing within striking range of the pair who looked at each other, continuing their point blank jeers as they decided who would enter into the proverbial ring. One of the good ole boys patted his friend on the shoulder, apparently determining that he would be their champion.

“What did you call me?” The hybrid growled, his voice growing deeper as he began his intimidation.

“You ‘eard me, Flapper.”

“Yes, I thought I might have.”

He began to turn ever so slightly back towards the bar, his hand subtly maneuvering itself towards another bottle upon the drunkard’s table; an apparent testament to their ability to wolf down absurd amounts of alcohol. Feathered flanges took careful hold of the bottle, feeling the slight push and pull of liquid sloshing within as force was applied.

“Oi, let that g-“. He had been caught, but far too late for anything to be stopped. He spun about, his leg shooting upwards and striking the drunk directly in the crotch. It was a heavy blow, though it needn’t have been terribly powerful given its area of impact. Predictably, the wounded fellow heaved over at his stomach, nearly vomiting from the blow combining with the general nausea of drunkenness as Noth brought the bottle upwards, sending the conical object into his nose and shattering glass shards into his skin. He let loose some manner of animalistic noise; a scream mixing with the gurgling of rising vomit. The foe fell towards the ground, curling into a ball and whining like a kicked puppy as shards of loose glass rocked about his face, embedded into his now broken nose.

Noth wasted no time, spinning upon his heel and releasing his wing outwards, allowing it to grow and to raise his ‘height’ and thereby base threat level. He growled a monstrous noise towards the remaining drunk who fell backwards over his chair in fear, urinating himself as he attempted to crawl away from the threat. It was allowed.

He returned his attention to the hurt man, pulling back a foot and sending it hurtling into his ribs to send him back into his whining fit.

“Come one! Threaten! Revile! Tell me I’m worthless for being what I am! Get up, cripple!” He screamed abuse down at the man, kicking him once more in the side before turning dejectedly back towards the bar, and subsequently glaring at the watching eyes around him.

He couldn’t help but to think the night’s fighting wasn’t over.

[Nightshade Eld]

Unfortunately Noth was all too correct in his assumption. The second half breed had hung back for a moment when Noth took action first. It was... dangerous to try and get in the way when the situation was considered. At the time it also wasn't worth it since the situation wss still mostly controlled. She wanted to stop neither and both sides almost immediately, her heart flipping in her chest as she finally realized the presence of her fellow half bird as well as the immediate damage both he and a more powerful drunk could cause. Specifically one burly looking man who sat in the corner, simply watching the show like it was free entertainment. His muscles bulged, though Night had seen worse earlier in the season when she went toe to toe with that one lothar. The man was much smaller and weaker looking in comparison, but he was still at least twice the size of the half breed (if not more) who kept herself relatively composed for what had just happened. Her harasser had missed her, painfully so, in his inebriated state so there wasn't really much to provoke her yet. Her companion on the other hand didn't seem all too enthused, apparently deciding that he was now going to be her protector after finding out who exactly her father was. As a precaution he handed her his own empty bottle, though if the situation turned the way she thought it was going to she wasn't going to need it. If the big guy stepped out she was diffusing the situation as fast and efficiently as she knew how. Her current favorite and the reigning champion of her debilitating techniques (at least this season) was smashing people in the face or over the head as hard as possible with the blunt or flat ends of her sword. Between the ribs, the collar bone, the knees, all of them were good places to strike but if you hit the temple just right even a hardy man would go down like a sack of steel potatoes.

After Noth was done dealing with the situation she pulled her attention to everything around her. Most might of dropped their guard, but the half breed was aware that this was the worst moment possible to do that. Her companion sighed, allowing his own to drop as the half breed stood up and attempted to walk towards Noth. Of course the half breed had shown nothing of herself, there was no reason for her to be feared and the rest of the bar needed a scape goat after seeing what Noth did. Nightshade had been quiet, she'd stayed in her seat, she'd stayed tiny by keeping her wings tightly wrapped around her body. She looked like the perfect little thing to pin all of the blame on. Though no one approached her quiet yet. Instead she decided to hover near Noth, never quite directly approaching him. Her gait confident, but not overly proud. Her eyes and head trained forward, but not tilted upwards in a haughty expression. Her shoulders flung back and her legs sweeping forward with the practiced and always ready stance of someone who could handle herself, of someone who knew that she could handle herself with no question left in her mind. Of course those watching her didn't exactly see that. They saw someone to pin all of their troubles on. And only an idiot or someone who was either too smart or too compassion to think it a good idea wouldn't take the chance to blame her. It was always so much easier to blame someone else. Noth especially knew that, didn't he?

The half breed on the other hand had always taken all of the blame, she'd shouldered the burdens of the world and had been crushed under it's immense weight time and time before. But failures tended to breed successes when all was said and truly done. Someone got up out of their seat half way on her path towards Noth. "Aww, what's wrong? Scared, little birdy? Running to your big strong boy friend are we?" The man sneered.

The half breed laughed, it was a noise somewhere between amused, disgusted, and deranged. It was also a noise she'd only started to make this last season late in. A noise that was sure would at least slightly throw off her fellow half breed who seemed to think he had her all figure out. "No, not quite. I'm actually here to play hero and arrest anyone that decides they want to keep beating up on birds. I'm not the damsel in distress, if anything I'm here to protect all of you idiots. I'm not really one to anger, certainly not one to spill blood when it can be helped, but us 'birdies' certainly aren't the kind of be messed with" she said quickly. Her voice had taken on a dangerous edge but it was more of a warning to anyone that had half a mind. Unfortunately most of the people in this bar were drunk and few even had a sliver of their consciousness left, let alone their minds.

The man got right up in her face, snarling. His breath wreaked of alcohol, hot and rancid on the air of a mount full of teeth that weren't cared for and were slowly rotting right out of his head. The midnight mixed breed didn't even seem phased. She kept her composer, which was more than most could say in such a situation. Instead of addressing the man in front of her she turned to the bar keep, addressing him. "I'm truly sorry for anything that may happen in the next couple of breaks. I honestly don't want to start a fight but I'm not going to let myself be beat up. That said I'm also not going to beat anyone up for verbal provocation alone," she said. She didn't even broach what Noth had done. He'd actually gotten hit with a bottle so she wasn't going to even try and explain the right or the wrong of that situation. "Either way, I'm done here. I got all that I needed to know, thanks for the hospitality" she said, leaving what she really meant unsaid. Since she didn't actually buy anything, as a show of good service she tossed the barkeep a gold nel. Nels didn't really mean much to her anymore. She'd given up on the idea of starting her own do gooders guild. It was better and easier to work alone. That didn't change her obsession with hoarding the nels. Besides, if a gold nel or two kept the barkeep from slandering her name for whatever fights arose thanks to her presence then she wasn't going to complain. It's not like she would be starting any of them...

She was on her way out the door when there was a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. It didn't matter who it was, they were slow but they were still coming right at her. "Get out of here you filthy Flapper," the man yelled at the top of his lungs. Instinct took over and the half breed quickly lifted up her arm, using it to shield whatever attack was coming. A glass bottle made direct contact, shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces. It didn't really do much damage, she'd tucked her head to the side in time and her cloak blocked most of the stray pieces. Just how she'd intended, her right arm took most of the attack. It was bruised, she could already tell that, and without looking at it she could feel the warm wet slowly building up against her bare skin which had taken the bottle. She wasn't sure how bad the gashes were, but she couldn't feel. Already her body with going numb and the buzz of battle was already fiddling with her mind. She refused to relinquish complete control, but she let go of a little bit.

She didn't even move, neither did her attacker, a slight hush falling as the bar waited to see what the pair would do. She moved faster than him, much faster. Even if she wasn't the best with fighting unarmed she refused to be weaker than a drunk. Her arm slid backwards, her hand quickly reaching out and grabbing the arm that had hit her with the bottle. She yanked, hard, with as much strength as her body could muster. Pulling the man closer to herself, the fist of her other arm came up to meet his stomach. She quickly pushed him away, the force of the impact actually convincing him to release the contents of his stomach. "Well, I suppose that's as hard as I can hit," she mused to herself quietly. She shook out her hand. Great, now her fist was going to be bruised too. Yay...

Her fellow half breed would quickly find out, if he was watching the display which she assumed he was, that the woman in front of him had completely changed. She was still valorous, noble, not willing to hurt someone until they actually tried to hurt her (as she demonstrated earlier) and not willing to hurt them past what it took to make them stop fighting (as she also demonstrated earlier), but there was a new kind of strength and confidence that she held herself with. Between then and the last time he'd seen her in Cylus something had changed, something had truly changed inside her mind. Did she finally snap? Or was it something greater than that? Either way the woman who looked down at her fallen foe between letting her eyes fall on any other potential foes still held sympathy, but she also held a strength that bluntly stated she knew what she was doing was right. And in all logical assumption it was, she was being far more merciful than what Noth had done and she'd been attacked.

[Noth]

There was always a stillness after a public fight, no matter how long the combat had lasted. The one that Noth had engaged in with the drunkards had taken only a moment, and it had been easily concluded afterwards. Despite that, the body of the wounded and whining man still lay upon the floor, and he rolled around in his own vomit and blood as he attempted to regain his footing. His friend meanwhile attempted to drag him backwards away from the Avriel, casting rapid glances upwards in order to assure himself that the monster hadn’t decided to come back to finish the job. There was definite fear in his eyes, and the twilight hybrid felt a pleased smile begin to chisel away at his stern expression. He had succeeded at what he had always attempted, and that satisfaction made him somewhat mellower than he might have been if he had only just beaten the one drunkard without frightening his friend.

He could feel eyes watching him as he strode past Nightshade, who seemed to be dealing with an upstart patron, and sat down once more at the bar, sliding atop an empty stool and allowing his wing to rest once more upon his back. The grimacing barkeep leaned forward, allowing his elbows to rest upon the table as he angled himself so that only the bird could hear his words. The warmth of whispers pressed against his cheek as the veteran spoke,

“Only reason I’m not askin’ you to pay for those bottles is because I know he threw one first.” There was the lingering scent of cheese and alcohol on his breath; the likeliest candidates for a quick snack within a tavern, he supposed.

“How courteous of you.” He tried little to hide his emotion from Jasper, and the man slammed his hand into the bar stand with a dull thud. It wasn’t a particularly loud or forceful movement, but it was enough to draw crimson eyes to his face.

“Listen here. You start mouthing off to me, or causing trouble, then we’re gonna have an issue.”

“Understood.” It was a submission, and he nearly hissed the words under his breath as he spoke. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Jasper, or even any of the other patrons by themselves, but he knew that if the provider of drinks put out a ransom on his head in the midst of his establishment, then he was unlikely to get out without suffering some manner of damage. It was basic survival instinct to know when to stand up for oneself, and when to simply submit until a better opportunity presented itself.

A familiar laugh caught his attention from behind, and he spun on the stool, observing the small interaction as he downed another gulp of the ale. He wondered to himself when the last time he had elicited the noise had been, and struggled to find any particular memories of it at all. Had he been so harsh all the time that he had never made his fellow hybrid laugh? That was a rather dreadful analysis on the part of his personality wasn’t it? He smirked to himself as he realized that only moments ago he had beaten a man with a bottle and then kicked him upon the ground whilst screaming at him and accusing him of being a cripple. Yes, certainly he had a winning personality, and it carried over throughout all aspects of his life. He shook his head once, taking another sip of the drink as he continued watching his fellow Avriel.

The man was clearly on the verge of violence, and yet Noth could feel the chastising glare of the establishment owner from behind him, keeping a close watch lest he suddenly decide to interfere. He felt fairly confident that Nightshade could take care of herself, but nonetheless, he felt the incredible urge to bash the man’s head against the wall a couple of times in order to clear up any confusions he might have had about who was the superior being in the argument.

He occupied himself by nursing the drink in his hand, and occasionally glancing around the room to take notice of the various occupants who by now had begun to shift about uncomfortably, as if though they were waiting for any particular action to trigger their response. They had been caught unaware before, but it seemed unlikely that they would allow for another instance of bystander’s effect once another bout of combat began.

Racism was a powerful thing, and a cry of its nastiness sounded throughout the bar room once more as Nightshade prepared to exit in the form of an epithet, though one that had been spoken many times that night. He arose from his seated position, ignoring the demanding stare from Jasper that he return to his seat or else be thrown outside. An equal and opposite reaction occurred across the bar as assorted individuals from this table and that table began to arise, apparently convinced that they were doing their part by joining the fray. Altogether, most remained unconvinced, and a few tried to urge their inebriated comrades to back down from potential danger, and to instead rejoin them in the merriment promoted by liquor indulgence.

He never quite saw Nightshade take down her opponent, because his crimson eyes had settled upon the gathering crowd across the room. He could see the sheep begin to cower whenever his fiery gaze landed upon them, and began to wonder whether he might somehow make the battle easier through sheer intimidation alone. There was one among them who stepped forward, a fellow predator, someone who had been scarred by the world and was unafraid of its bloodshed. Literal scars covered his arms, as if though he had become depressed one particular day and set about altering his flesh to suit his needs, but the marking pressed against his upper arm made it far clearer as to why the wounds had been inflicted. It was the mark of a slave, of a tool, of someone who had been whipped into his place. The way he stared took away any question as to who had performed the brutality, once more, the Avriel of Athart were about to cause Noth trouble.

“Look at them go! Look at them walking in here, and acting oh so tough! They think they’re better than us! I would know, look what they’ve done to me!” He motioned to his arms. “I won’t suffer the pride of your kind quietly anymore, freaks! You should have left when you had the chance, bird worshippers! Come on boys, let’s show them who we are, let’s show them that Etzos is stronger than their slavery, stronger than their-“

Noth had never thrown a greave before, but the satisfying cracking noise it made when it made contact with someone was surprisingly harsh. Downwards like a sack of bricks tumbled the ex-slave, falling into his companions who placed him more gently onto the ground. A couple seemed to take notice of the insignia attached to armor piece, and whispers of “Guard Killer” began to circulate quietly.

“Good speech. Bit long.” He shouted to the angered crowd. Jasper shook his head a single time, and began to sink below the bar, apparently searching for something. Meanwhile, a couple of the ex-slaves apparent friends moved to the door, obviously intent on stopping the pair of Avriel from leaving until the patriots were done with them.

[Nauta F'mos Geey]

The birdbrains had the right idea to visit tavern for information whether or not Jasper was their source. F'mos too was at the tavern for business with the barkeep although unlike the two Avriels, the Aukari did not need any specific information for himself. He was at the tavern for the Fence which had used Jasper's services for arcs. Originally, it had been another member of the organisation which liaised with Jasper as the Fence's contact previously but the unfortunate truth was, Fence business was dangerous business and things had a way of... happening.

However, the Aukari was at the back when the commotion with the Avriels occurred. Unable to see what happened from there, he ignored the yells he heard as part of the boisterous atmosphere of the tavern. Jasper had arranged for F'mos to come in for some repairs, the cover of the previous contact to avoid any suspicion on the Aukari's true purpose; but after he admitted to the barkeep it was not possible as he was no repairman and did not know where to start, the outraged Jasper gave F'mos some other jobs to pass the time needed for it to seem he worked at the back.

After he heaved the fifth crate on the shelf, F'mos got the hint these were jobs Jasper himself did not want to do, although he was unable to tell if the jobs were given out of spite or to ensure the barkeep could avoid them. The Aukari was impressed by the way the man made sure to make full use of the arrangement, as he would do the same in his shoes. That said while he could not abandon the job for the relationship between the useful barkeep and the Fence, he was sure he would never return to the tavern for the Fence. They could get another contact for this work.

With a significant part of the job already completed and enough time wasted, F'mos figured he had done enough to satisfy the barkeep and headed to the front of the bar. It was then he saw the Avriels and the hostility they stimulated in the patrons. It was as if anytime someone was bored and at a loss for something to do, their answer was a bar brawl. At the middle of the bar was the fucking crow with its lone wing and at the entrance, Nightshade with a drunk. He did not envy her as he remembered any situation with a drunk involved made for a 'fun' night...

"So I'll just make a move now..." he told Jasper, with no intention of being caught up in whatever it was he had walked into.

Although it seemed the barkeep had no idea of the sort of an organisation the Fence was and requested the Aukari break up the fight. A laugh with a decisive no was given in return as he had already done more than he was supposed to with the backbreaking labour at the back. He was about to make his exit when Jasper tried to browbeat him about his job which remained incomplete to force the Aukari to help with something else. F'mos knew his obligations and knew he was done but after Jasper offered compensation for his assistance, the greedy Aukari stopped in his tracks which in hindsight as a big mistake.

"We decide on pay now. Not later. Or I walk" he said forcefully. He knew Jasper was desperate if he had to ask.

And the desperation might have addled the sense of the barkeep as they reached a deal with him providing the Aukari with the best bits of information for the next few seasons over the Fence. The Aukari agreed without question. He did not consider it betrayal as the Fence would still get their information and he the credit for it; unless the information was useful for his own purposes of course. He did question the value of the drinks he was handed but never got an answer. The barkeep had been through enough bar fights to know those bottles would not survive, especially with nonhumans involved.

It was around the time he returned for the fourth set of bottles when the crow laid down the gauntlet, F'mos still oblivious to the details of the event was rushed to get as many bottles to the back. As the Aukari waited patiently for Jasper to hand him more, even as far as to audibly clear his throat to get the man's attention as he could see there were no bottles below the bar, he was able to spot the weapon the barkeep was going for. Given the bias expressed by most of the patrons of the bar, he was quite sure of the group Jasper would side with in the conflict.

While he would love to watch the crow being put down, he figured he owed it to Nightshade that she was not killed with a bolt in the back for being an Avriel. It was an entirely different situation from the brawl in the streets earlier in the season where weapons were not even involved. "Jasper...?" he said in an attempt to get the barkeep to forget the crossbow and remind him of the valuable bottles which needed to be put at the back. Unfortunately, Jasper seemed dead set on getting rid of the 'damned birds' which was a disappointment. It seemed it cannot be helped that the Aukari had to get physical...

[Nightshade Eld]

The half breed only grimaced, her expression darkening a touch. "I see," she muttered under her breath, a shadow casting over her features. Of course, she was an Avriel. At least in their eyes. She looked enough like one that an uneducated human would assume that she was one. She wasn't deformed the way that Noth was, and to the people of Etzos even that was Avriel enough to just be an Avriel. She wanted to be disgusted, she wanted to be shocked and appalled, but honestly at this point she couldn't find it in her to be any of that anymore. The only sensation she could feel was a dull nagging, a colorless and lifeless sensation of just not being able to care anymore. This was her home after all, Etzos was where she lived and honestly as things stood if she couldn't get strong enough it would also be where she died.

She gave a shallow sigh, her eyes landing on her opposition. She was done with all of this. Yes, they were blocking the door. Boo hoo. It wasn't like the damn place didn't have any windows. Where there were windows, there were escapes for winged and feathered creatures like herself. "I'm not one of them," she said simply. She back pedaled slightly, clawed feet going backwards as a small group of the men advanced. To any normal person she would have looked like she was backing herself into a wall, the way her body moved backwards and backwards, away from both the door and the bar.

As soon as she could feel the presence of the wall behind her the half breed spread her wings, giving them a powerful pump. The window wasn't necessarily high up, but it would take someone the effort of jumping if they had any intention of getting out it. It was one of those opened easy, swinging outwards with flare, though it also looked like one of those windows that wasn't intended to be opened or close often. Someone would certainly need a ladder to do so. It was also comparatively smaller than the average window, little more than something to cast light during the warm and bright seasons. But the half breed was smaller than the average person, her form lithe and willowy at best. At worst she was easily described as underfed for her height. With her advantage she swung open the window, the beating of her powerful wings being enough to stall the men for a moment.

She perched for a moment looking at the bar, before quickly ducking out the window in a flare of black, hair and feathers trailing behind her with flourish. They asked her to leave and then got in her way when she tried to, were people really so stupid? She shook her head quickly, her wings beating and dragging her body off into the darkness. She couldn't think like that, yes people were stupid but she shouldn't think bad of them. She just had to be brave and maybe, just maybe, she'd one day be able to get rid of whatever was causing this ugly darkness to cast itself over the city of Etzos.

((OOC: Sorry the reply took so long boys, bad things just kept happening. Life. Bah. I decided it might be best if I just excused myself from this thread since I need to get myself back on my feet with the site now...))

[Noth]

There was no doubt that a fight was about to explode into action, and that the hybrid would be standing almost alone against a swarm of patriotic drunkards bent on proving their superiority to his feathered race. It was frustrating to imagine that there were others of his ilk who were subjected to such harsh treatment simply because of who they were as opposed to what they did, but simultaneously there was a flicker of glee that came to Noth as he realized that the purebloods likely suffered a similar fate. He could imagine a proud Avriel standing against the tides of idiots, bragging about his own talents and abilities, and promptly being thrown outside of the building. The thought brought a snicker.

Thankfully, his maneuver had managed to stem the tides for a few brief instances as the companions of the ex-slave rallied together to assail him, and a pair of particularly harsh looking bruisers blocked the exit. Crimson eyes settled upon the figure of his beloved friend, wondering what thoughts were rushing through her mind, questioning whether or not she felt the same tingling sensation of injustice that now threatened to crawl up his back.

He heard her mutter something quietly under her breath, heard her exhale outwards in an exasperated sigh as she began to back herself into a corner. Perhaps she had been overwhelmed by the somewhat emotionally charged situation or perhaps she was simply legitimately frightened by the goons. Despite her reasoning, it seemed important that she shift her retreat away from her current position lest she suddenly be overwhelmed and become entrapped in the corner.

The twilight Avriel thought like a human, not like a bird. He had never been gifted with the magnificent and beauteous wings of his counterpart, nor had he ever tasted the winds which soared so temptingly above. Instead, he had been grounded since birth, unable to rise up and claim the destiny which had been granted to all of his pureblooded ilk, and even a majority of those who professed hybrid blood. It was for that reason that Noth did not even consider the window as an opportune place of escape until his friend had already begun to hurl herself through it, and escape into the shadows of the night.

A particularly heavy sense of disappointment lay upon his chest as his companion left him to the wolfish fellows, though he understand her desire to escape. If he had been given the option, he likely would have pursued it as well, but such as not his fate. There was a noise somewhere behind the bar counter, and a quick glance revealed that Jasper and his strangely familiar assistant had vanished somewhere behind the counter. Had he known that the bartender had been armed with a crossbow, and had been ready to make an example of him for causing a disturbance, than he might have panicked to a far greater degree, but as it would stand, he was unaware.

Opportunity presented itself in fashionable form as the pair of bruisers near the doorway stared off at the window in open amazement. It seemed unlikely that they had ever seen someone fly before, and thus they were astonished at the close-range showing. That amazement provided enough of a distraction for the twilight hybrid to charge across the room, and slam one of the awestruck bruisers into the nearby wall. His head and shoulders slammed roughly into the construction, and his breath was immediately launched out of his lips, splashing heavily across the hybrid’s face. The bruiser was down in an instant, heaving and groaning on the ground as he curled into a ball of pain.

His companion was far more attentive to the situation afterwards, and he quickly aimed a jab at the Avriel. The blow connected, sending the bird lurching backwards a couple of steps before he launched himself forward once more with renewed vim. Another blow, heavy but glancing lay across his defending elbows, and a quick outwards jab with those pointy appendages allowed for a grossly loud crack to resonate outwards from his nasal cavity. A light rivulet of blood dribbled down from the orifice as a growl crossed the man’s lips, and they charged into one another once more.

It took little time for others to gather into the fight, and what was once a bar quickly turned into a coliseum of frustrated and agitated warriors. Blows landed on the bird from all sides, some heavy which shifted him, and others which were light and simply glanced away. Some landed upon bits of armor and were thusly essentially ignored. All the while, a wild plethora of fists and elbows and carefully aimed kicks were lashed out at the crowd, sending the occasional drunkard flying from the circle.

For all of their motivation and superior number, none of the combatants could match him talon to toe in terms of sheer ferocity. Despite that, he had actually toned down some of his blatant brutality. There was simply no way that he would be able to defeat the entire crowd, and he knew that the trill that he started slashing with his talons or swinging with his mace was the same trill that he would be stabbed all over with sharpened daggers and vicious knives. For all of the motivational speech and the anger resonating through the establishment, it was still a bar fight, and no one genuinely wanted things to escalate to the point where blood would be spilled from anything more fearsome than a broken nose or busted lip.

A particularly well-aimed blow caught him above the brow, and he immediately winced away, knowing for certain that it would likely give him a black eye when morning came. He retaliated with a sharp jab to the collarbone, and down the foe went with a gasp and a cry. Gradually, Noth became aware that his opponents were focusing more on grabbing than striking, and he felt a cold and rugged hand take hold of his singular wing.

“Let’s let’m fly!”
Came the cry, and a moment later the murderous bird was hauled up upon a dozen hands, and promptly thrown through the doorway, landing with a spectacular crash of pain and embarrassment. He attempted to stifle the groan that came to his lips, but it forced its way through, and he lay upon his side, staring off into the wilderness. His body ached all over with bruises and light cuts from where he had been hurled into assorted objects, and his fists felt particularly sore from several bits of punching and striking, but there was a strange and relaxing feeling that came with it. The sensation of catharsis from having let go of so many of his problems in the best way possible.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He could think of at least one another cathartic activity that would have been far grander, but then again, Nightshade had already left.

Gradually, with another groan, the hybrid picked himself up from the ground, and began to depart. It was about this time that a particularly hard object smacked into his back with a metallic din. He reached downwards, scooping it up from its resting place on the floor.

At least they had been kind enough to return his greave.

[Nauta F'mos Geey]

It became quite the mess and the Aukari wanted nothing more than to leave before he was dragged into it. However he could not leave before he was sure Jasper would not make it too disadvantageous to the unarmed Avriels with his own crossbow but, the barman just would not listen to him despite being told "the flappers ain't worth it. Bottles are worth it, right?" In the end, F'mos had no choice but to take action when it was obvious Jasper found his target, crossbow pointed straight up at the one Avriel which took to the air which made for an easy target to the barman as his bolt would not be obstructed by any of his patrons.

Throwing a punch would be the easiest solution although a risky one as F'mos was not confident he would be able to stop the crossbow from being shot by accident. Instead, the Aukari kept quiet as he did not want to shock or alert Jasper into taking his shot until he was right beside the man. It would seem the barman who waited for the perfect shot once the Avriel was fully in the air, worked to the Aukari's advantage as he able to get into a great position himself. He clasped at the man's shoulder's firmly and quickly to minimise the window he had to take his shot at Nightshade and heaved with all his might.

F'mos intended to pull the barman back into the room with him, an excuse already all prepared that he just wanted to make sure a valuable resource to the Fence was not lost to the terrifying flappers which would come after him. While his manoeuvre worked to pull the barman back, evident from the bolt which flew uselessly in the air and hit into nothingness, he was unable to execute it as he planned as he lost his balance and fell back himself. He knew if he did not do anything fast, he would end up a victim of his own attempts.

He had no idea if it would work, but desperation gave him the energy he needed. The realisation that it would be the end of him if he allowed Jasper to land on him gave him more strength and the Aukari pulled back further to take the barman with him as far as he could. This was followed by a kick which was more a result of his instincts to keep Jasper off him, which worked as the man's body was led into the air until it crashed into the next room.

"Jasper...? Jasper?!" The man did not stir was the perfect sign for F'mos to make his escape. Unfortunately he had grown far too energetic and confident after he had solved one problem, that the Aukari decided he should attempt to solve another. The remaining Avriel, the murderous crow, which was in the middle of a mob of angry Etzori. While they may finish the job for him, they may also not do it because of fear of the law or death in general which meant F'mos had to take it into his own hands.

The crossbow was a simple and easy enough weapon, but not one F'mos considered effective or he would have been armed with one in Sirothelle instead of the bow he favoured. As it was all he had however, the Aukari decided to make use of it anyway. He should have given up the moment he found it was almost impossible to wrench it away from the unconscious barman's hands, but F'mos was not going to lose this chance and lifted Jasper by the arms to carry him over his shoulders. It took some time for him to reach the bar with the heavy barman and he could not really see anything but F'mos was quite sure the fight was not over yet, as he could hear the cries, the smashing of glass and the crashing of furniture.

No...it was not over yet...

With the bar to support him, the struggle to get the crossbow on the level of his target was not too hard although the weight of the man was uncomfortable. It became worse when F'mos was put in between the heavy Jasper and the bartop but he believed a shot would be easy if the bar supported his aim. With only one shot because of the difficulty he went through reloading the weapon because Jasper's cumbersome arms and body was in his way, F'mos knew he had to make it count and took aim at the Avriel, his only target with the one wing. If the Aukari was truthful to himself, he would even admit that the Etzori were an annoyance and would not care any were hit by accident, which was why he did not need as much time as Jasper to take his shot.

Slowly moving the barman's hand which still held the crossbow along, the Aukari tried to align his sights with the crow which became an easier target the moment the Avriel was held in place by his opponents. He would never have another chance like it. Using his other hand as a support for both the crossbow and the body above him, F'mos stilled himself and took aim, and made his shot which wildly flew into the bar because it was at that time the unconscious Jasper decided to move into a more comfortable position.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

His attempt failed and there was no reason to stick around any longer. The Aukari gave a quick heave to relieve himself of the burden on his back and shook it to the bartop crossbow and all, and crawled his way back to the backroom where he worked earlier. He never liked Jasper anyway and believed the man should take the consequences for his failed attempt. As far as he was concerned, he was never there to watch the barfight which would be an easy enough excuse for him to sell, as there was another exit available to him at the back and he knew better than to make off with any of the valuable bottles, even if they were right there to tempt him.

[Incubus]

Noth

Knowledge
Tactics: Clearing Up a Loose End
Investigation: Talking to a Bartender to Get Information
Investigation: Small Talk to Open People Up
Intimidation: Making an Example of Someone
Intimidation: Taunting a Downed Foe
Unarmed Combat: Kick’em While They’re Down
Unarmed Combat: Throwing Armor at People
Unarmed Combat: Using Arms to Block Blows

Loot: N/A
Injuries: Minor wounds that will take 3 trials to heal
Fame: -1 General Bad Deed, -2 Breaking a City's Laws
Devotion: N/A

Points: 15

Nightshade

Knowledge
Deception: Keeping your composure in the face of danger
Intelligence: Finding Connections
Intelligence: Dad's old friend
Intelligence: Yorskmir
Persuasion: Use of personal ties to get what you want
Unarmed Combat: Drunks are bad at fighting alone, but move in packs
Unarmed Combat: You don't need bulging muscles to be strong
Unarmed Combat: Using your arm as a shield.

Loot: +1 Letter from Father
Injuries: Minor wounds that will take 4 trials to heal
Fame: N/A
Devotion: N/A

Points: 15

Nauta

Knowledge
Disguise: Assuming another's cover to maintain a ruse.
Tactics: Hide weapons where you'll work.
Unarmed: A punch isn't good to stop someone from shooting.
Ranged: Waiting for a good shot will leave you open.
Grapple: Kick to control where your opponent goes.
Crossbow: Shooting with a weapon held by someone else is hard to do.
Crossbow: Reloading a weapon held by another takes too long.
Stealth: No-body will see with a body on top.

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A
Devotion: N/A

Points: 15

Comments: This thread was really good. I've read few of your threads, Noth, but I must say your writing is absolutely brilliant, and both posters held their own parts incredibly well. I'm very glad to have read this. Also, birds r gunna rool dis sity.