Bars were a similar place to the workshop of most madmen. Seedy, disorganized, filled with a foul miasma. A perfect place for a man to sit down, contemplate his life, and drink his sorrows away. This place was more than good, it was wonderful. The Fly's Amber Tavern, run by the good Tristina V. Yhena, a woman on small stature, but with seemingly infinite reserves of paitence and tolerance for the men and women who came stumbling through her door asking for all sorts of drink. One of those men walked in with a trench-coat hanging off his spindly frame and a rumpled hat shoved on to his wild crimson hair, which was now lined heavily with grey. The only thing off with him were the glowing white stitches on his face, and the two orbs of light that lit up in his eye sockets.
"Hello Tristina" He mumbled to the owner at the counter before producing a weapon from a harness on his back, and laying it against the table he sat down at. There was a long pause before he looked over to the woman sitting across from him. She shared the same blood red eyes, but with real orbs of flesh, with a retina, and cornea. She looked at him, her face full of sorrow.
"Sirius, stop wallowing in your own sorrows. Your weapon has lain in it's harness for far too long. You simply must get back to fighting, or I will personally drag you somewhere and have somebody stab some sense into your head."
Sirius looked into her eyes and growled, his mouth forming a word to summon a circle and rip her soul to shreds. He pressed his hand to the table, and began muttering an incantation. HIs sister looked at him balefully. He then shook his head, and lowered his hand from where it was pressed to the table
"Yes. I know, but I don't fight for no reason of late, even if my name implies it, sister dearest. I'm not some sort of barbarian..."
He shook his head, then spun on the stool, stood up,and walked away. There was a dreadful silence for a minute before he called out to her.
"Kera, I'm not bringing the destruction that hounds our family into yet another town. Leave. Don't come back, or I WILL show you what these last three hundred years have done with my combat skills."
She stood up, shook her head, and stalked over to the bae proper, smoothing her simple dress as she sat down on one of the numbered stools, drinking deeply from her tankard. Sirius sighed, he hated doing that to his sister, but when they were together. Bad things happen... People die, people fall. Wills ripped, souls torn from their hosts. And time and time again, they were outcast, being told off to the Church in Salvar, being attacked in every other country. Their lives were those of wandering...
Eventually, Sirius wandered into Radasanthnd fought, one man named Sabatykos Maelstrom. And after that battle, he was given one lesson, misfortune is your own making.
"An ale, please." He said to the small woman behind the bar, then he settled down, thinking on the people. A man next to him stood up, looking down at another woman on a stool. She glared at him.
"Wench, I said get me some food!" The large man shouted, reaching out with his right hand for her throat, Sirius twitched, then snorted, then slowly murmured at a clearly audible tone the words..
"Man, I would advise you just quietly move away from that woman, before I rip your soul out of your body.."
He stood up mouthing the words of summoning, and the wood below him cracked and splintered, as stone boiled up, forming intricate symbols, motes of light flowed down his arms, and he reached out with his own soul, a seemingly indomitable force to those not trained in the arts he used.
"Who are you, some second rate summoner? Still need a circle, I bet my bother could outmatch you, and he's barely learned how to incant fire into this world!" The burly thug roared. Sirius grinned, and he poured his will into the circle, and it flowed smoothly into the huge man, but a single patron stood up and gripped his arm, nodding as if saying "Let it go"
"Sir. Please, let go of me. I have a rather unfavorable brand of power here, and my power is, a tad unstable when other people break these circles..."
The other man nodded, and Sirius let go of the power and dismissed the circle, the wood reforming around his feet. He instead picked up his weapon and grabbed a narrow hilt from the base and drew a rapier from a warhammer, holding the sword in his right, and the hammer in his left.
"Well, now that we're on more even terms, Sir Thug, do move your hands away from that poor woman. "
The thug frowned, and let go of the woman, but drew a dagger from his pocket. Other men stood up, drawing their own weapons and tomes, facing each other, fierce expressions on their faces.
"FOR DRACONUS!"
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