Fetch Quest

[Lasair Anubail]

“Oh, I’ll have some more fire water, please! Straight up, no diluting it with any real water, and Godhand would like another pint of ale, since he already finished the other one!” Lasair told the bar wench.

“I didn’t finish the other one,” Godhand grumbled as she released him, “you dragged me from the bar before I could even get a drink in! That’s a cruel thing to do to an old man like me.”

The twelve in replica of Godhand Striker stretched out and climbed up to his favourite perch on Lasair’s shoulder. Her other two plushies were currently sleeping in her bag, and by sleeping she meant they were in a drunken state of stupor, or a stupor of drunk? She didn’t know. Avery mentioned something about taking Tristram’s pants off, Tristram got offended, they got in a fight and bam! She relegated them to time out in the Never-Ending Rucksack.

“Aurel--Aura--I’m just gonna call you Aur, that’s a cool name. Can I ask you something? You seem like an interesting guy and I’ve been places in Althanas but I’ve never seen someone that looks like you.”

The Godhand plushie leaned down close to her ear. “Uhh, love, I really don’t think you should be hanging out with this one. Remember Dan Lagh’ratham, sweet?”

Of course she remembered Dan. She threw an ice bomb at him during the war between Imperial and N.W.O., but he’d mumbled something about small fry to her and walked away. Then she’d ended up fighting some old guy named Teric Bloodrose instead, he punched her in the stomach! It really hurt…either way, she remembered Dan. She wanted to make a plushie out of him. He’d looked pretty cute. Probably make a real nice, squishy plushie for her growing collection.

She ignored Godhand, who thankfully had something else to concentrate on when the drinks returned. Taking a sip of her fire water, Lasair shivered as she felt the burn go all the way down her stomach and then spread out to her limbs. Even her wings felt it.

Fortified by alcohol--not that she needed it--Lasair went right back to asking Aur questions.

“Are those spikes on your head real? Do they hurt? Are they sharp? Can I touch one!? Pleeeeeaaaasssseee!!!”

[Wilfred]

The wet gnawing sound beneath Gary's table ceased as the strip of meat bounced across the stained old floorboards. A wet nose peeked out from under one of the occupants' chairs, pointed at the treat and sniffing in a short, sharp staccato rhythm. Slowly, the dog eased out, its eyes set warily upon the tiefling idling nearby, and inched towards its prey. The going was slow and careful, until the barmaid moved in between Aurelius and the beast - whereupon Wilfred seized his chance, and the meat, and swiftly darted away.

Just half way across the tavern floor, Wilfred stopped dead. His whole frame perked up; head high, one front paw suspended in midair, ears oscillating wildly in an attempt to pinpoint the high-pitched giggle with had just carried through the room. Wilfred snapped around to face the establishment's bar, and the short figure of a young elf at one of the seats. All caution now forgotten, the dog began to trot happily up to the counter and the girl, tail wagging back and forth all the while.

He dropped the hunk of meat at the foot of the seat, looked up at Ashley with his usual wide grin, and gave a short, expectant little bark.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelius blinked.

Had she really just said all of that? His mind took a moment to register how much he hated this chit, before he sank his drinks. The tiefling paused, realising his hand was resting on the grip of one of his Baatorian knives, sheathed at the small of his back- he knew he could move faster than pretty much any cutter in the room. It'd be easy to nick her and be halfway out of the room before anyone noticed she was in the Dead-book... but, as he threw back the three shots, he held back for the minute. Since his rather bloody escape from Coronian's "best and brightest", he was keeping a low profile- working behind the scenes, the Anarchist had been finding like-minded individuals, and setting up faction cells across Corone. Eventually, he would have at least one in every city. But for now he was starting small.

He took a deep breath, stubbing out his cigarette, before lighting up another one in the same breath. For once, murder was not the easiest option.

"You reach for my quills, luv, and you'll pull back a bloodied stump." His serpentine eyes held the Fae's vacant gaze, ignoring her almost nauseating cheeriness. "And if you call me "Aur" one more time," he sneered, his sharp fangs catching the light of the room, "I will take you out back and my dick won't leave your arse 'til rigor mortis sets in."

Satisfied he'd made his point clear enough, the tiefling took his hand away from his knives, and started stroking Junior. The foetus let out a tiny hiss, its pinions shivering and stretching out wide, the scalpel-fingers scratching over Aurelius right shoulder. Miniscule beads of black blood surfaced on his alabaster flesh, barely noticeable against the tattoos covering his bare skin.

The warlock tapped a fingertip impatiently against the scarred table-top, waiting for the chit to get up and leave, smirking a little as he marked the dog snatching up the meat and disappearing into the crowds. But, Lasair stayed there, and drank her firewater. And all the while, her plush toy sat and glared at the half-breed.. well, as hatefully as a foot high teddy could.

"And what the pikin' 'ell are you starin' at!?" Aurelius snapped.

[Ashley]

The young elf's interest in the drunk man's tale faded, and she turned to face the bar again. She scoffed at the tall man sitting to her left after she inhaled some of the thick acrid smoke from his cigar, the pungent scent making her nose scrunch up. Noticing an unattended mug filled to the brim with dark frothy ale sitting on the counter, She leaned intrusively over the man sitting sitting on her right, to his annoyance, to grab the drink by the handle and drag it back to her portion of the counter. She brought the drink to her nose, and took a big whif of its scent. It was a powerful smell, and it made her shiver, but she decided to sample it anyway. She lifted the mug, quite heavy for such a small girl, and took a swig of the ale. Noticing this, the man sitting to her right gave her a very disconcerting grin. The stiff drink went down hard, making her shake, the mouthful almost immediately bringing a fuzziness to her head.

"Bleh."

Ashley stuck her tongue out in disgust, pushing the mug away from her. She didn't really understand what made places like these so popular. They smelled bad, and the drink everybody seemed to be guzzling down tasted horrible. She wiped her mouth of the foul liquid, and raised her head to see an angry looking bartender.

"Oi! Where did you get that missy? This is why little children aren't allowed. This drink isn't for you." He snatched the mug up, and turned to begin walking away, mumbling under his breath. "She's lucky I don't take her by the scruff and boot her out the door..."

She didn't really care. There wasn't a chance she was going to brave another sip. She clearly couldn't hold her alcohol, the sip she did have setting in and making her lightheaded.

She nearly bounced out of her seat in surprise when she heard a loud bark from behind her. She quickly spun around to the noise, and gave the pooch a wide grin. "Doggy!" She giggled, reaching down to stroke the top of his head with her small un-gloved hand, then reached under his chin to give it a scratch. "Good boy!" She exclaimed, happily swaying her legs back and forth.

[Lasair Anubail]

Lasair blinked in surprise at the…uhh, person? called Aurelius. She’d honestly never had someone talked to her like that before. She’d been yelled at--heck she’d been in countless screaming matches with her sister and Tristram, some with the two of them at once--but she’d never had someone so blatantly tell her that he wanted to shove his penis inside her before. And in her behind too. Why would he even want to put it in there? What was the point? She imagined that might hurt a lot, at least for her. And until rigor mortis set in? Was that some like super awesome version of an orgasm that she’d never heard of before? Perhaps it’s what happened when guys put it in ‘there’.

She silently watched him play with his little pet thing while she drank back her fire water. The creature thing seemed to have a lot of little sharp aspects to it. She wondered how it didn’t hurt Aurelius. Or where he happened to get it.

Godhand drained half his mug of ale, nearly the same size as him, in one go and then burped rather loudly. One of his lovingly crafted vlince hands coming up and wiping away the excess and foam from around his mouth.

“Just staring at your ugly ass, is all.”

“Godhand, that’s not nice to call him ugly!” Lasair said, reprimanding the plushie.

He gaped at her incredulously. “Love, he just told you he wants to take you out back and *beep* you until your *beep* and then you *beep*.”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

Godhand slapped a hand on his forehead and dragged it down his face. “Why don’t you just let him do it then and you can find out.”

She contemplated it as she took another sip of her drink and when she went silent, Godhand practically had kittens on the table top.

“Don’t you dare even think about letting that freaky half demon do anything to you, or I swear, I will drag your ass back to Donnalaich myself!”

“Oh, he’s a half demon!?” She turned and looked at Aurelius, with all his tattoos and freaky armour. “You’re a half demon? Is that why your teeth are all sharp and pointy? I could probably do some really cool things with demon blood. Think of the items I could make, Godhand!”

The plushie just groaned and smacked his head off the table, clearly giving up for the moment.

[Allennia]

Allennia had spent several minutes expressing an erudite desire for ‘Ceidon Lore’ to be on his merry way. She was neither fazed nor offended by the incident, and she did not much care for her garments, so long as it continued to protect her from sharper things than the man’s lacklustre wit.

“It really is quite alright,” she said, for a fourth time. She dabbed her shoulder, removing the excess liquid, and then stared at him politely. At least, she stared at him politely as she could muster whilst staring.

“If you’ve quite finished bluster squalling…” She paused. She was surprised at how quickly her tone and demeanour had become ‘country’. “Take a seat,” she said, as she pointed at said seat. “Perhaps you can tell me who that dapper looking…half-pint?” She shrugged. She was not sure if there was a non-polite word for dwarf. “Perhaps you can tell me who he is, and what this ruck-us about evil magic is?”

She picked up her glass. She edged her stool closer. She forgot her titles, ranks, and rituals. She was starting, all too quickly, to become just another bum on a seat in a rank little tavern.

[Krausus]

Arron listened to the conversations here as there. He sat down at the bar and ordered a noted the ale that the barmaid set at his spot. He nodded his thanks and flipped some gold her way.

After eight or nine drink and a hell of a hangover later. Arron just wandered around. He was looking for something to do. Make a tad of gold. He was running out of tricks to show at the bar anyway. So he fought a fight. He had run into a man who he then beat. He didnt take the miner's gold but instead flipped a little rock in the air. It spun for a second before falling twoers the grounds. Pointing towards Arron. He had a forlorn look on his face. The miner was found in the alley the next day.

[Wilfred]

Wilfred seemed more than pleased with the attention; he closed his eyes, the smile widened a little, and his tail began to wag from side to side. It raised faint clouds of dust as it swept across the floor in one direction, and thudded rhythmically against the bar on the reverse swing. After a few seconds, he stood up, and started to sniff the young elf's hand inquisitively.

Meanwhile, the ruckus caused by Gary's inebriated monologue hadn't quite died down. "Gary, yer a thrice-damned fool", yelled one dust-caked miner. "T'were them blasted Aleran contraptions what done fer Derek. Ol' Minkeley even went and brought in one o' them slims to have a gander at it".

"Oh? Oh? Izzat right, now?", Gary slurred. "'At's what Min, Min, Minkellerly said, sure enough. Bloke who we ain't heard from was that slim. He packed up quick fast with ne'er so much as a word to us folks". Some of his audience chuckled at Gary's tenacity, while others jeered. The drunk, however, went went on, red-faced and shouting over the commotion. "I bet all your mothers sang you the Ballad of Smiling Jack when you was nowt but bairns. Where d'you think that came from, aye? Jack were the first, that we know of. Poor Derek just be the last".

At the back of the tavern, someone began to sing in a cracked, laughing voice. Others soon joined in, and an off-key chorus sprung up.

"Old Man Jack, he be smiling swell,
Old Man Jack, done fell down a well.
Now if you see old Jack, you'd better homeward race -
For Old Man Jack's come to fix that smile upon your face!"

[Timmareus]

The traveller stepped through the door to the establishment's main room, straightened his robe while taking a quick glance around and strode towards the end of the bar, bypassing a seemingly embarrassed man standing in front of it before coming to rest on a stool next to what appeared to be some manner of small child playing with her dog.

After leaning his staff against the wall he adressed the barkeeper with a big smile plastered on his face. "A fine day to you, my good man! I would be much obliged if you might serve me a mug of clear water."

The man behind the counter answered with a disparaging look. "We don't normally serve water, son. Might be you'd wanna take your drinking somewhere else."

Timmareus put a few coins on the counter, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand, the grin never leaving his face. "I'm certain you will manage, good sir."

Grumbling under his breath but pocketing the money nonetheless the barkeep rummaged around behind his counter, then forcefully put down a big mug.
"There. Water."

Nodding cheerily, the traveller pulled back part of his robe to retrieve some granular substance from a pocket on the inside, depositing it in the water. He then took a small wooden spoon from a different pocket and stirred his drink. Setting down the spoon and taking a big sip, the man let out a satisfied sigh as a sweet and spicy fragrance filled his immediate surroundings. He began to quietly hum along with the refrain of the song being sung around him.

[Krausus]

He sat down near a man. He had no hair. More of a head of. Quills. Arron wanted only a person to try out his new ability. A way to impose his emotions upon others. He learned tha basics of it from an old scroll. That he couldn't read but. Sensed. He pulled out a coin and throw it at the mug labeled "payment" He shrugged.

"ALE. NOW."

He got his ale. And was content. Except when the dog looked at his. That smile. Ugh. It hurts. To see. Something, anything so happy was not natural.

Arron walked out of the par shrugged at one of the bouncers that had planted themselves by the door. He was just out setting up his camp when he heard the rustles. He put them off for a while.

Arron ft the shift slowly. Feeling new memories. Fresh into his mind. He felt a new name "Sirius" he slowly stared at the sky wondering why this shift was coming now. He took it up. Changed around his look for a second as his eyes shifted color from a deep black to a grey. His hair flared brighter and his posture straightened. He allowed the changes to take in. Then surrendered his mind to his new life.

Somewhere near Radasanth some ashes floated on the wind into the fields of the farmers working nearby...