The First Whisper [OPEN]

[Wander]

This was not what she had expected.

Melaina was careful to continue moving, her body twisting like the turn of a tide, her hands weaving like kelp in the water. She moved through the tavern as a shark through the waters, with an ethereal grace that did not quite belong but was too alluring to cast aside.

For the most part, the crowded inn seemed to ignore her as part of the basic structure of the place, which was fine. They were subconsciously aware of her, and more than one had tossed a coin or two her way as they left. She would have enough to pay for meals for the next few days, at least, especially as she didn't intend to stay here tonight.

The inn was filled with people. Corone, she had learned, was a potluck of races. Dark elves and humans hung about the tavern aplenty, and she spotted a few dwarves here and there, drinking their weight in ale. The Drakari were few but stood out, their draconian features marking them immediately for what they were. The strangest creature she could see was one she had not spied before. They appeared human at a glance, but there was an ethereal shine just beneath their skin that gave them a tantalizing glow, and something like magic danced in their silver eyes. Long silver hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and with her pale skin glowing so, she appeared ghostly.

She ignored Melaina, just as she ignored the other people around her. The only thing that seemed to grasp her attention was the steaming mug in her hand. But Melaina couldn't seem to look away from her, fascinated, drawn. The woman's lips curved up at the edges just slightly, an almost imperceptible smile, and Melaina stared at her face, wondering who she was. Wondering what she was.

"Oy, girly!"

Melaina didn't jump but it was a close thing. She turned to look at the human who had called out. He was staring at her, his eyes rheumy with drink, his cheeks red and glowing. Drunk as a drowned lamb in her seas, but he had a couple coins in his hands and tossed them at her.

"Sing us a song, love." The coins made their own music as they hit the ground at her feet - a music she could dance to all night.

Melaina gave an elegant bow in acceptance and spun, twirling her arms around until they reaching elegantly for the ceiling. She paused a moment, letting the silence draw the attention of the tavern, and it quieted in response. She felt the tingle on her lips as she called forth her born magics. She opened her mouth and let her Siren Song free.

"She was a creature born of the sea,
Silver fins dancing like light.
She was a creature who swam far beneath
Where human eyes can reach - day or night.

She was born of the tides, fierce, full of rage,
Their crash and pull like the ticks of a clock.
But she knew the sea was but a big cage,
And the tides were her key and her lock.

She could swim forth from the sea, she did think,
If she was clever and quick as a seal.
She could pull herself out of the depths of the drink,
If she and the sea made a deal.

She would look back forever and long
At the sea that had once been her home.
Her love for it would rise forth in every sung song,
And she'd miss it wherever she roamed.

The sea made her promise and so promised her
That yes, she'd swim beyond the shore,
But no matter how far she moved from the stir
This would be a burden she'd bore:

The sea would call out to her - "come back to me,
For I am home and safe haven and life."
But she would flee, running, on fins turned to feet,
As vagrant as an alewife.

She would run upon grasses and stones and flat lands,
And she would call no place ever her home,
But her feet would ache forever for the heat of the sands,
And perhaps one day she would cease to roam.

Go back to the sea from which she was born,
Go back to the waters of life.
Go back to the place her heart did so mourn,
Go back to a time before strife."

Melaina turned her final twist into a slow bow, letting the silence of her song's ending carry over the tavern until it was interrupted by the clink of coin on the floor at her feet. She watched the pile of funds grow as her Siren's Song burned in her throat, begging her to sing more of the sea, but the daresn't test her boundaries. Already this place was too filled with emotions, people angry at one another - a conflict that had not yet come to a close keeping people at odds. But for the moment, they were hers to have, together in their admiration of her, and she gave another gentle bow, accepting coins from the hands of drunken admirers.

"An interesting song that tells an interesting tale."

Melaina turned, startled. The silver-haired woman with the ethereal eyes was standing beside her, watching her closely. She held out a hand and, without really thinking about it, Melaina took what she offered. "What a pity the part about being born of the sea is a lie."

And then she was gone. Not walking away, not slipping into shadows, but gone. Melaina stared at the spot she had stood a moment ago, then looked into her hand.

The woman had handed her a coin, but it was not the silver or gold of those that covered the floor, but made of a soft green glass, translucent and shining. Melaina might have accepted it as coincidence, or perhaps a coin passed to the silver lady if not for the fact that this was a unique piece. And one that Melaina recognized.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I regarded the bite-sized songstress with nothing more than an arched eyebrow as I pulled another swig of watered-down piss from my glass mug. Hype, on the other hand, was squirming around in her chair, unsure whether to fawn over her from our little corner of the tavern or approach her and try not to break her in half with a hug.

"That was wonderful!" she practically screamed in my ear as she excitedly latched onto my arm with her briar-knit hands.

I did my best not to let go of my drink, opting to set it down on the table, where it had a better chance of not ending up on the floor. "She looks a little too young to be here," I muttered.

"Yes, but--" Hyperion looked at the girl, cocked her head as she took in her childish features set into smooth dark skin, and tried to calculate the singer's age. Deciding that she didn't care after all, she pressed on. "--but that song was fantastic! Every note perfect! The lyrics, evocative!"

"I don't care much for music, you know that."

The briarbane shot me the dirtiest look she could muster from behind her mythril facemask, her four amber eyes igniting in anger and disappointment. "But Madison," she argued, her grip on my forearm tightening, "music is a very important tool in communication!"

Great, I thought bitterly as I reached for my glass once more. Here comes another lecture.

"It is a cornerstone of storytelling! Without music, how would great tales of heroes past ever get told?"

"They'd be written down in books, Hype."

Hyperion pressed on, ignoring me. "How would people express their emotions and life stories? Music contains a certain nuance that written words cannot properly convey! To truly know someone, you must hear their voice!" She looked back at the girl, and released her vice-like grip on my arm. I instinctively pulled it away from her, my muscles burning and pale flesh starting to turn red from where she had latched on.

I was having another drink when she made up her mind. "Give me a couple coins."

Ale sputtered around the edge of the glass and fell onto the table as I choked. "What?"

Hype turned back to me, a certain eagerness flickering in her eyes. "I want to give her some money for singing such a wonderful song. That's what other people are doing."

Fuck. Hype was about to make a friend. And when Hype decides that you're her friend, there's no escaping.

[Sage]

Sage curled up into a ball atop of the bed, desperately trying to block out the sound of the loud and boisterous patrons of the tavern. The day could certainly have gone better, so far he had encountered nothing but delay after delay in trying to get to Radasanth, yet he had only managed to get as far as the next town over. A kind man had selflessly offered him and several over traveling merchants a lift on the back of his wagon. A kindly gesture that was ruined when something had spooked the horse and ran the wagon off the road, taking the better part of the day just to get the wagon back on the road.

So here he was in … whatever this town was called, one of the merchants had mentioned its name earlier but Sage could not recall what he had said. Instead he opted to just go straight to the tavern and wait until morning so that he could be off again. That had been the initial plan, except that he had been mistaken as a girl, again, and none of the patrons had believed him when he told them he wasn’t… again.

That had just sent the boy straight up to the room had had rented out and slam the door behind him.

“Idiots” he muttered under his breath and snuggled deeper into the scratchy pillow, but sleep would be a long ways off

Then one of the patrons began to sing, and it was beautiful, almost hauntingly beautiful actually.
It certainly got the boy to sit up out of his cot and listen, tilting his head as the lyrics were muffled by the floor boards. No this he certainly had to go investigate.

Sage left his room behind and made way for the top of the stairs where he was allowed to peer into the tavern proper where he was able to gaze on the one who was singing. “Not human, She looks like she could be a Fae”
He closed his eyes and started to loose himself to the song of the sea, but soon pulled himself back, something was wrong. The boy frowned at the odd feeling of being drawn into the song while also having the sense of something making him weary made him almost recoil as he regarded the odd woman.

“Oh … I see, she is enchanting her own voice” He realised as he took several more steps down and examined the as every single patron he could see had their eyes glued to the woman in some form or another. “Not outright controlling them either, a compulsion charm maybe?”

The song came to an end shortly after, and the patrons all but swarmed her with their coin, in hopes of garnering her attention or just hopeful that she would sing yet another song … ah just what was she singing about again, Sage felt horrible that he had lost himself in thought instead of stopping to listen to the majestic sound.

Feeling a little emboldened, possibly by the residue of the song Sage thought to himself, and more than a little curious at her she had performed such a spell. Natural ability or maybe it was a spell she had learned, either way Sage was more than willing to go say hello and hopefully get into a nice discussion about magic.

He was the only patron at the bar to not have a gold coin in hand when he approached “Ah, Hello there. My name is Sage Ainsworth, and I was wondering” The boy paused to see if he had caught the woman’s attention, and gave her genuine smile “Exactly, how did you just … ah, sing like the way you just did” he said deciding to err on the side of caution, if any of the patrons overheard him and found out they had been loose with their gold due to just a magic charm.

Well … he would certainly lose out on someone he wanted to talk to this day. “The way you manage to get the whole tavern to stop and listen was amazing. If you don't mind me asking that is.”

[Capoeirista]

Alina joined in the islanders’ strange custom of throwing coins at the singer’s feet. She had only a small pile of silvers on the table before her, but she tossed them freely, applauding along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end.

I wonder why this performer requires such wealth. Do they not provide her with a free room and food? These islanders do not value their poets as we do.

The Fallieni woman looked about her. Most of the folk she saw looked soft and pudgy, pale and milky. She could hear many conversations, but did not understand the tongue. She knew only perhaps a dozen words in Tradespeak, learned in the time since the great portal had brought her to Corone. She had come as part of an army gathered at Suravani’s Oasis, but the fool that had brought them there squandered their time and she and some others had decided to try their luck in the lush, fertile land.

Alone for the moment, Alina had decided to indulge herself in a local custom called ale. She rather enjoyed the frothy beverage, which felt like a meal in her belly. The half-full mug on the table before her still wore a healthy head of bubbles, and its pleasurable effects had her mind swimming freely.

I should like to perform next, but I do not wish for them to throw coins at me. It may disrupt my balance. The dancer shimmied her shoulders and wiggled her hips, loosening her short, lithe body. She had not found occasion to dance since leaving the oasis army, where she had practiced the ancient Glasswalker art of dance fighting every day.

As the singer moved into a mob of contributing clients, Alina scooped the rest of her silver up off the table and carried it to the small stage-area in both hands. She spread her coins out on the floor, to show the islanders that she required no donations, and then set to dancing. Her feet drummed the floor in time with the swaying of her arms and torso, and then she leaped and spun over and over to the same rhythm.

Some of the islanders ignored her, while others whooped and tossed contributions at her feet. The woman with sun-darkened skin, black hair, and brown eyes stopped dancing.

“No, please.” She said carefully, using her best Coronian accent. “I dance... free?” Unsure of whether they’d understood, she picked up the coins that did not belong to her and threw them back into the crowd.

[Wander]

Melaina tucked the seaglass coin into one of the pockets sewn into her green cloth belt. She bent down and began gathering the coins that had been tossed to the floor, tucking them quickly into pockets and coinpurses before the lure of her song could fade completely and people want their money back. Out of sight, out of mind, as it happened.

She accepted some more coins from pleased patrons, some of them asking for another song, and she wondered if she could get away with singing another quick tune, but she was distracted. “Ah, Hello there. My name is Sage Ainsworth, and I was wondering...” She turned to face the person, her eyes scanning him quickly, but he wasn't bearing any weapons and his face appeared open and curious. At least, she thought he was male. His features were androgynous and his long, flowing hair gave him a feminine appearance, but she didn't think he was a girl.

“Exactly, how did you just … ah, sing like the way you just did?” He broke off, it seemed, before he continued the thought, but Melaina felt her whole body tensing in response to the insinuation. Bad that one person assumed - or realized - that her song was magicked, but worse still if he was overheard. She knew she shouldn't have stopped at this piss-ant little town, but she was hungry and tired. She could have gone to sea, caught a fish and feasted easily enough, but she wanted a bed and feet, not fins. Her song wasn't lying when it said the sea called to her, but she ignored that call as best she could. She was the siren and she would not be swayed.

“The way you manage to get the whole tavern to stop and listen was amazing."

Another dancer had gotten up and begun a leaping, twirling fight with gravity and Melaina took some relief in the eyes of the patrons that turned to her. Less eyes on her if she needed to disappear shortly.

"My mother was a singer and taught me how to use my voice to still a crowd," she told the boy. It technically wasn't a lie, since her mother was also a siren, but if she could twist it so she was in the clear, all the better for her. Not that she wouldn't be leaving this crappy little tavern immediately, anyway.

"Hi!" came a delighted squeal from behind her and Melaina jumped. She took a step back from the boy so she could see both of them at the same time and blinked at the... creature who had come up to her. It - she - was wearing a dress and a mask, but her hands were still twists of wooded vines, so very non-human.

Melaina opened her mouth, though she didn't know what she was going to say, but the creature shoved gold coins into her hands as she chattered excitedly at her. "Your song was so lovely! It was wonderful to hear it! You have to come over and meet Madison and have a drink with us so I can hear about where you learned to sing. It was so beautiful! What's your name, by the way? I'm Hyperion. It's so nice to meet you!"

Melaina looked around, wish she could slip away, but there were too many eyes on her and the viney creature's hands hand wrapped themselves around her wrists. She swallowed hard, trying to think of a song to draw their attention and let her escape, but then the creature tugged on her arms and pulled her toward a table further into the tavern. "Come meet Madison!" she said excitedly.

I am going to die here, aren't I? Melaina thought. She thought about a distraction, any distraction, and caught sight of the boy - Sage. With nothing else coming to mind, she turned on her visual allure. She wasn't very good at directing it, but hopefully the other dancer would keep people's attention and she could get him to follow her. Maybe she could use him as a distraction later.

She was so worried about being pulled further into the inn that she didn't notice the silver-haired woman had returned and was watching her from where she stood next to the door, a bloodied sword held in her hand.

[Sage]

“Oh dear” The boy watched amused as another person came and showered the woman with their attention. “Seems like the enchantment works a little too well” He tried not to laugh, he honestly did. Covering his mouth as he began to snicker at the woman’s situation was certainly the best she could have gotten out of him. Whatever spell she had used had worked just as intended, but now everyone’s attention was on her and he soon realised that his question may have just put her on edge.

“Hey, It’s ok” he said soothingly with a discreet look around the room, and then towards stranger eager to make a new friend and how they clasped their hands ….

“Vines?” Sage stilled as he began to take in the stranger. The mask and dress it wore did well to hide its features, enough for someone like him to completely miss it in a crowd at the very least. Sage had honestly no idea of who or what it could be, it’s hand spoke of a humanoid form but very little else. But whatever concern he had about the creature’s intentions was diminished by the utter amount of adoration that it was expressing towards the woman.

“Odd, very odd Taken in by the song too I guess” He was about to give up on having that conversation when the woman turned to him and did … something.
He had no idea what was going on, it was like her face had just changed, he lost sight of some of her features while other parts were enhanced, he was drawn to the shape of her lips, and the way her eyes gazed at him almost comfortingly. She had become very alluring to him, which was odd because he had thought she was rather pretty to begin with, but now things about her just came into focus differently.

“I, Huh … What?” The boy stumbled as he took a single step towards her and froze in his tracks, his mind awhirl at the sudden change that had come over her. “Another spell?” he theorized and tried to focus on the parts of her face that just didn’t come into focus right. “Must be”

“What is …” He openly wondered as he rubbed at his eyes, frowning as he was unable to shake off the effects that had come over him. The only saving grace that the boy could find was that he was able to recognise something had been altered, and had enough sense to recognise the change. “It’s rather rude actually”

“Can you please stop looking at me like that, it’s very distracting” he said in a hushed whisper that he was sure the woman would hear. He turned away, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He brushed his fingers through his long hair as he fought to regain his composure. “I just wanted to talk”

He turned to … Hyperion, he thought it said its name was, and smiled as it seemed rather eager to pull the woman towards one of the corners to meet someone.

“Oi lass, you came back down!” Sage froze in his steps and turned towards the drunk who had been rather forward about his intentions before Sage had retreated upstairs. “Ah right … there was a reason I was hiding upstairs wasn’t there”

Yeah, no, rather than stay and deal with the man who did not believe he was a boy, he turned to follow the Fae woman instead. “Sing and Dance for us!” the man cried after Sages retreating form and to the woman he had managed to persuade to sing for them before.

“Can you … do a thing to get him to ignore me please” he pleaded the Fae as he got closer, turning a distasteful look over his shoulder at the drunk. “I’ll be your best friend if you do”

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I watched in abject horror as Hyperion yanked the short thing by her arm to the corner of the room--my corner, where I sat, where there was an empty chair or three at the table.

No, Hype, don't, please-- My lips twitched, desperately mouthing the words that I couldn't bring myself to speak out loud. We came here for a quiet drink on our way back to our bookstore in Underwood.

The briarbane and her victim were drawing closer and closer, parting the drunken throng before them. I was doing some quick mental math.

I could be out of this chair and back up into my rented room in about ten seconds, on any given night. It would prove a little rough getting through the crowd that amassed on a normal night, but with this being the final night of the work week, it was especially crowded. Coronians loved spending their days off nursing massive hangovers and bar fight bruises.

"Madison--!"

Most of the patrons were still entranced by the girl's song, which meant that they were less likely to respond to polite suggestions to get the fuck out of my way. I would have to forcibly move them, which would add several long seconds to the time I needed to escape, giving Hype a chance to catch up to me. Not to mention, if I jostled the wrong person, I'd probably end up with some hands thrown at me, and I'd be making the wrong kind of acquaintance.

"--Madison!"

She was closing the distance a lot quicker than she should've. Fists involuntarily clenching and unclenching, palms clammy, a cold sweat beginning to form on my forehead, I made my move.

The chair clattered against the back of the wall as I stood up. Eyes scanning the crowd, I spotted a decent line that led to the staircase in which I only risked bumping into three drunken slobs. I rounded the table, ducked to the right--

--and found myself cut of by four amber eyes set in a polished metal mask.

"You didn't have to get up," Hyperion cheerily intoned with a slight cock of her head. "I was going to ask her to sit with us for a bit and share a drink!"

Godsdamn it, foiled again.

My gaze drifted down to Short Stack, who looked just as lost and confused and not-wanting-to-be-here as I was. Now that I could get a closer look at her, something seemed a bit... off about her. I wasn't able to put my finger on what, exactly... But there was something weird and different about her.

I tried my best to put on a kind, welcoming smile, but my face felt like it was contorting into something eldritch. "It's nice to meet you," I lied.

Hype took the girl's hand in her own, and vibrated excitedly. "We thought your song was very lovely indeed! Come, take a seat! You must tell us more about it!"

[Capoeirista]

Too long had passed since Alina last danced. At first she felt stiff and mechanical, like a glass mannequin catching the sun. But as she dipped and moved and her muscles loosened she became a sparkling grain of sand tumbling down the dunes. She stomped and swayed, leaped and twirled, all to the musical staccato of her drumming feet.

A smile blossomed across the Fallieni woman’s face as memories of her homeland flashed through her mind. When she looked out over the audience, rather than dozens of prying eyes she saw the sparkling glassfields of Nirrakal stretching before her. Each time she leaped she imagined settling to the ground on a precipice between two sharp shards, as she had done so often in the past. Her momentum carried her through a chain of corkscrewing jumps until she settled at the center of the stage-space in a deep bow.

Cheers and applause greeted her, as well as another wave of gold and silver thrown by the onlookers. Alina flinched at first but then a smile of understanding found her face.

This must be their custom… rather than letting the roofmistress or clan chieftain provide performers with room and board, everyone contributes. How intriguing. Although she felt more comfortable with the custom, having figured it out, the dark haired young woman still blushed a deep shade of vermillion when she bent down to gather the coins off the floor. It made her feel like one of the tramps she had seen sitting in Coronian gutters begging for scraps. The lands of Fallien would not tolerate such weakness.

As she finished gathering the silver and gold and stuffing her pockets full, the tavern’s front door flew open. Two sun-darkened men in loincloths and leather codpieces strode in like stalking lions. They each had the chiseled, sleek physique of a well trained warrior, and moved with the slight bow-leggedness that showed they had been riding for some time. Sweat flecked their bare chests and long dark hair. Their coal-like eyes roved the tavern until they lit on Alina, and then glowed hotly.

“Look at this one,” one of the riders commented in a Fallieni dialect native to Suravani’s Oasis, “she abandoned her duties, and now finds herself scraping coins off the floor for survival.” He scratched the long scar running down the side of his jaw and curled his lip in distaste.

“She is a deserter,” the second rider said scornfully, and spat on the sawdusty floor, “she deserves nothing more than to live in the gutters.” He whipped his head around, long braid flicking over his shoulder.

“She would deserve such a shameful life,” the scar-faced rider replied, “were we not duty-bound to bring her back for punishment. Don’t run now, deserter. If you do, we will tie you across the back of my saddle.”

They descended on her like two birds of prey dive-bombing a viper.

“No!” Alina cried. She struck the first man square in the nose with a flexed palm and aimed a kick at the other’s groin. They powered through her feeble attacks, laughing as scar-face grabbed her beneath the arms and braid-man gathered her legs.

The Fallieni woman writhed and squirmed as they bore her toward the door, but to no avail. She did not think anyone else in the tavern had understood their conversation, and she did not know the Tradespeak word for ‘help’.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The three of us were just taking our seats again when an all-too-familiar noise broke out near the center of the tavern.

The crowd cleared the area as two men, clearly not from the area based on the loincloths they wore, were assaulting a third. The victim, also oddly dressed, was doing her best to fight back but was quickly overpowered. The men quickly subdued her, grabbing her by her hands and feet and lifting her off the dirty wooden floor. It was readily apparent that this was going to turn into something more.

Normally, I would just keep my head down and stay out of situations like this, but...

"For fuck's sake, can I just spend one quiet evening in a tavern without a fight breaking out," I grumbled. "Just one?"

I pictured in my mind's eye a pair of small obsidian spikes. Each one was about six inches in length, their ends splitting off into a trio of barbs that could hook into a surface and stay there, requiring some major surgery or idiocy to try and remove. All along the shaft of these spikes, the edges were jagged and torn, able to rip and tear flesh with even the slightest of jostling.

With a mote of grim satisfaction, I pictured these implements of pain and suffering ramming themselves into the groins of the dark-skinned woman's assailants, pinning their meat and veggies to their legs.

And then it was so.

The two men immediately dropped the dancer and fell to the floor, their pained screams filling the room as the writhed in agony, only worsening the damage from the obsidian shards embedded in their bodies. I made sure to hook the things into their femurs, for that extra special torturous touch.

Hype caught the glint of anger in my eyes, and rested a briar-knit hand on my forearm. "My good deed for the day," I muttered as I plopped my butt back down in my chair. The briarbane knew well enough to drop the subject, and took her seat as well.

It wasn't long before an icebox of a man removed the two dark-skinned attackers from the establishment, a barmaid produced a mop to clean up the little amount of blood that was spilled, and everything was back to normal. The dancer frantically looked around the place, panic in her eyes. She had just been attacked, and out of nowhere whatever plans those two scumbags had for her had been abruptly cancelled? Yeah, I'd be confused too.

Seconds passed before the she made eye contact with me. I held her gaze for a long moment, offered her a knowing nod and a wink, and proceeded to finish my drink.

[Wander]

The commotion near the door drew Melaina's attention, as it did the others', and though she didn't slip from the grasp of the vine creature, she turned toward the door. Two men were trying to carry out the woman who had been dancing, the panic in her eyes palpable, and she felt the need to assist rise like flood waters to her core. She stiffened, her magics writhing, and prepared to release her allure in full force, no matter that it might bring the whole of the inn down upon her head in fervor.

The sudden fall of the men startled her and she lost her hold on her magic. The spark of her allure flashed once, too dimly to attract far away eyes, and she stared at the writhing men on the floor. It was only because she was searching for answers that she saw the subtle nod and wink toward the dancer from the... Madison, the vine creature had said.

Melaina relaxed, moreso than she had that whole night. She turned back to look at the men again, a final check for danger, and that was when she saw the silver-haired woman. She was standing in the doorway, bloodied sword in hand, dangling the blade above the floorboards like a waiting death to fall on any unlucky enough to be beneath it. The woman had locked her eyes to Melaina's and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Blood ran down the length of the blade but, as she watched, none dripped to the floor. She looked around, searching the other patrons, but none took notice of the woman and her bloodied blade. It was like she wasn't even there, yet Melaina could see her plainly. She looked back to the doorway.

The woman was gone.

Melaina let out a breath and stumbled back, her hands shaking in the grip of the vines - Hyperion's hands. Was she going mad? Or was this perhaps exhaustion creeping on her senses? Her fingers reached inside her coin purse and touched the smooth seaglass of the coin the silver-haired hallucination had given her.

She sat down abruptly in one of the chairs at the table she had been dragged to, feeling weak and confused. "I think I'll take you up on that drink," she murmured weakly. She waved a hand for the bartender. A heavy drink of whatever she could get that would make her forget whatever madness lurked in her mind.

Her fingers brushed the seaglass coin. Or something more than madness, perhaps. She thought of the bloodied sword, dangling, waiting. A warning of danger, of something to come.

"Three, in fact," she said, and waved at the bartender more fiercely as she upturned one of her coin purses, dumping silver and gold all over the table. "I'm getting everything I can with this. What do you want?"