The Sword and Staff [All Welcome]

[Tobias Stalt]

Autumn wind nipped at his heels as the traveller hurried through the storm. Dark clouds clawed out hungrily over the land and the rumble of thunder played a macabre beat overhead. The town was crawling with life, as ever; despite the downpour, two drunks still threw fists at each other and slurred insults. A crowd of onlookers huddled beneath ruined newspapers and chanted incoherently.

Baker's street was a rough and tumble part of town, but it had heart. He passed it frequently when he visited, if only for the familiarity. One timid lass at the edge of the crowd noticed as he passed, and she waved vividly. Tobias offered her a toothy grin in return.

"Back in town again, Stalt?" she asked as she matched his pace. "Business or pleasure?"

He guffawed. "Pleasure, as always," he joked. "Have you been waiting long, Colette?"

The blonde woman pulled her hand away from him quickly and shook it off, as though he had germs. Her face was coy. "I'm not some young virgin barmaid from up the Promenade," she lowered her voice, "but come see me after the kids go to sleep, and we might be able to negotiate something."

He sighed aloud. "'fraid I cant, ma'am," he replied, one hand clutching his chest. "I've a meeting at the Sword and Staff, and the job's none too shabby." Water dripped down his hood as he matched her fierce gaze, and she let out a groan of frustration.

"Not the first time a good looking fella's left me all wet an' alone," she waved a hand. "Go on, then. Go get your money! I hope it keeps your cock good company!"

"Oh," Stalt nodded assuredly as he turned and waved goodbye. "It will. It certainly will." She disappeared as he passed the courthouse on main, and the dirt road became intricately lain stonework. The Adventuerer peered across the plaza to one of the more quaint facilities, a run-down tavern know famously as "the Sword and Staff."

He pushed through the door and a small bell rang. The sound of a thousand voices assailed him at once, but one louder than all the rest. "Good afternoon!" The green haired girl greeted emphatically, "thank you for your visit! What can I get you to drink?"

Tobias frowned as he pulled his hood down, and messy brown hair fell around his ears. "I'll have a brown ale" he replied. "You can keep them coming."

[FennWenn]

With a sigh, Fenn sat up and wiped both tears and blood off of his face. How rude! It wasn’t the first time someone had threatened to eat him -- he knew a dragon with a similar attitude -- but it still made him puff his cheeks out huffily in the direction of Maddy’s retreat. Hype was much nicer. He wondered if she also had a spooky, toothy mouth under her mask; like Daugi’s face! Neat.

What was significantly less neat was how she had kind of fucked up Veri. Somewhat flaming, somewhat sizzling. The fae’s hands slapped over his mouth, as he read the words on the floor. Nodnod. Yeah, they probably should leave, if only to try and get the poor fox a little help. Except… glancing over his shoulder, there was Hype, comforting a very distraught Rayleigh. He still needed to show Hype his shinies. Fenn marked this down mentally and considered her closely. Surely, Briarhearts weren’t a common creature. With a little effort, maybe he could track her down and drop in for a visit sometime. He sometimes did that with friends.

First, Fenn helped hoist Veridian onto the now-giant Mao. How did she get so big all of a sudden? He had no clue. But, instead of clambering on with the fox, the Fae pulled a small brass whistle from his bag and blew into it.

Fweeeet!

“Wuff, auf, wuff!”

Drawing more attention to himself seemed to be most of what Fenn was doing tonight. Knocking over several empty chairs, a massive black direwolf streaked towards him, nearly knocking him over with an overenthusiastic muzzle. He hugged her back. Yep, Daugi was rested and ready to go… and a little hungry. She glanced aside at the bunny and the fox. Immediately, her tiny charge signed a few words of wisdom her way.

No hunt. No eat. Friends.

“Mruff?”

FRIENDS.

“Auf...”

Having sorted that out, Fenn climbed onto her back, sighed, and drew his cloak over as much of him as possible. Fucking rain. Making a face, he leaned into to hug his wolf around her neck and flash a thumbs-up to Mao. They were ready to go.

[Lye]

The black liquor arrived, thick and viscous. The vapors wafted upward through his nostrils and threatened to ignite within his lungs. This would do. The assassin removed his soiled gloves and dipped two pale fingers beneath the surface. Under his robes, he swabbed the bolt wound. His lip snarled lightly as he contained the searing pain of potent alcohol against raw flesh. Then, he pulled the rosemary from the glass and laid the sprigs on the table. The ring of his khukri thrummed out from his thigh and Lye began to press the herb into a mash with the tip of the blade.

"You don't need the food," Lye replied toward his creation. "You've been overindulging."

The assassin scooped the mash with his blade's edge and he thumbed it into his searing wound. The oils from the rosemary and the alcohol worked quickly to expedite the killer's natural resistances. His mind started to clear, but the confusion remained. He avoided public settings for a myriad of reasons, yet by manner of his delirium, Lye found himself surrounded by sheep and enemies. His face snarled in disgust and his hand pressed against his chest.

Then, just about the worst case scenario broke down. The Empress of the Tarot, Tobias, and a strangely familiar swordsman all walked in within seconds of one another. Unnerved, the assassin inhaled through clenched teeth before setting his blade down, clasping the remainder of the alcohol, and throwing it back like a war vet fresh off the battlefield. Scarlet mouthed off her concerns about this swordsman, the soul shard, and her chest. The killer slammed down the glass on the table and tightened a grip on his khukri.

He paused. While his mind shot straight to his favorite solution to a problem, he considered the current occupants too large a threat to commit public manslaughter. A brooding sigh exhaled through warm lips and he turned to Madison.

"Enough cards. You and I need to speak. Privately," Lye rumbled. He kept his eyes between the Empress, Tobias, and this troublesome stranger. He also noted the presence of a faun above, making mischief with some poor soul. He would confront her later.

"Scarlet," he set his eyes on her, pausing as he pondered an internal strife. "Go get some fresh air. You're no use to me like this."

[Briarheart]

Deep breath. Count to five. Exhale.

Deep breath. Count to five. Exhale.

Lose yourself in the cards. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.

Deep breath. Count to five. Exhale.

Slowly, I was starting to come back down from my rage-filled high after my trick deck got stolen. I regained it, and with it, control of the situation.

All I had to do was deal out the next hand, and everything would be back to normal.

I continued to make sure everything was nice and randomized, practicing my bridge shuffling--which was a little difficult, what with my hands being made of vines and all. But eventually, I'd get the hang of it once more. No cards had gone flying from the pile yet tonight, so I had that going for me at least.

Red and Lye continued to have their hushed little spat. I mostly tuned them out, focusing on the task in hand. I could make out bits of their conversation, however. Something about a Shin Sue, and how Red actually felt something at his presence. Sure, it was only irritation, but it was better than teenager-level apathy.

But there was one thing that she said that definitely caught my attention and set off an alarm in my mind. "Soul shard of mine" were the exact words.

"Wait, hang on," I interrupted the two Crimson Hands. I cast a slight look in Lye's direction. "What's this about a soul?"

I set the deck down on the table--this time placing a hand over it, to prevent any other nosy little bastards from coming over and swiping it. "Ulroke, did you remove her soul from her? Are you holding it hostage? Is this some sick way of ensuring her compliance?"

The urge to activate the vines wrapped around his heart grew and grew. "What the fuck have you done?"

[Philomel]

Upstairs Philomel committed to another thread of the tapestry of life.

Below stairs, Mao turned his head to the boy-man now on his back and nodded - a strange gesture from a rabbit but then she was large. Slightly bigger than a wolf, she was fifteen feet from twitching nose to fluffy tail. Her whiskers twitched.

Taking a sweeping gesture of the room, she surveyed they who had disturbed their peace and brought strangeness to here. The plant-face girl, who had given red-hot-fox Veridian so much pain. The flame-hair Amari who was so distant of heart, so dark of soul these days - but Mao remembered from Philomel a kinder version of her. The silver-hair Lye ... He was complicated. And other. So many others. Ones with cat ears. Ones who flirted. Him who ...

Him. Shinsou. That struck chords in Philomel food-giver's heart. Ah many different notes of a melodic tune. That brown hair and gold eyes, that friendship they had, that bond ...

Philomel could not know he was here. And so with that the rabbit did not say to the faun that he was. Thus, she was going to go, going to leave without telling.

Thump.

And suddenly there was a small earth-thunder, a shake in the floorboards. Flying, running, skidding past the others and for the for. Out of that, over the cobbles with the small man onto her back and the ill fox in tow. Onwards they darted through the street, under the ran that was now ending. On, and into a new adventure.

[Amari]

"Overindulging? What do you mean by that?" Scarlet asked, cocking her head to the side. She hadn't been eating excessively, rather, she'd been eating less than usual. "I haven't eaten today."

Lye lazily gestured to her chest. "Your tits are bigger." He leaned back, emerald eyes gazing up and down her form. "At this rate..."

"You'll what?"

He didn't answer, instead he turned to Madison and they exchanged hushed words, Madison was practically trembling with rage. Was it because Scarlet mentioned the soul shard? She swore she heard the plant woman hiss something like that at him. "I gave it to him." Scarlet mused as she slid out from behind the table, allowing Madison to shuffle out. Scarlet slid back in, ignoring Lye's words.

"I'm useless to you like this? Like this, I am still more effective than you currently are. Just half an hour ago you were blowing barf bubbles, if anything. You're the useless one tonight." Scarlet waved him off. "Do your private thing. I'll be here."

scarlet repositioned herself so she could keep a closer eye on the man she suspected to be Shinsou. The feeling still hadn't left her chest, nor the dizziness that clouded her head, but she held her own. Be damned if she'd let such small things get to her. "OSIRIS?" she called out, her heart was pounding in her chest. Why was it pounding? Why was it aching? Scarlets hands shook as they gripped the table. This wasn't normal, she wasn't supposed to be able to feel things. Lye was far enough away now, so why? WHY? WHY?

The name fell from her lips a second time, warbled and pained as memories tugged at her. "S-Shinsou?"

The scent of his skin, the corners of his lips upturned into a mischevious smile. The silken caress of his chestnut hair... why did he not seek her out after the Crystal Sword cavern? What was he doing...

Another thought fell into her mind and she felt her gut sink.

Who was he doing?

Still awaiting to see if he would answer, Scarlet turned her Scelera gaze to John, she gulped back and in an effort to control herself she tried to strike up a conversation with the man.
"So... Strong silent type?"

[Lye]

Lye did not respond to Madison's questions, nor the rising anger in her tone. He was certain she was tightening her floral grip around his heart but could not tell under the existing swath of sensory data. Instead, he gripped her firmly at the... wrist? And pulled her toward the stairwell leading to the second floor. Before the first step and just barely out of view from the patrons, the assassin spun around face to floral bouquet with Madison.

"Fall away," he muttered.

The roaring voices of the patrons vanished instantly. The whistling winds through the cracks and holes in the shoddy tavern turned to stale, dead air. It felt as though everything came to a complete standstill. To the anyone but the two of them, Lye and Madison simply ceased to exist. Her, within the world created of Lye's pure will, no living thing nor magical force could interrupt them, eavesdrop, nor follow.

His grip let free.

"I have made an error," Lye bluntly confessed. He produced the glowing vial of wisping blue haze. "I need your help."

[Briarheart]

This is new, I thought to myself as the world literally melted away around us. The earthy tones of the establishment's walls and furniture faded to pale, lifeless shades of lavender. Gone with the vibrant reds and blues and yellows of the patrons' outfits. Gone also were the sounds and smells of a late weekend evening surrounded by a bunch of drunks forgetting their worldly woes.

It was just myself and the master assassin, in our own little pocket of reality.

For the briefest of moments, as he let go of my wrist, I sensed a different man. One who wasn't the dreaded Master Hand, who could take the lives of you and your entire family with a sharpened piece of steel and few flicks of his wrist or condemn your home nation to suffer from war, famine, and plague for countless years. It was one who was tired of everything, one full of regret. One who may have seen the error of his ways, at long last.

As he produced a small object from somewhere in his clothes, the moment passed, and he was Lichensith Ulroke once more.

"I have made an error," he said, his voice pure business. "I need your help."

Help, did he say? He needed my help? It was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping. The Great Lichensith Ulroke, Master Hand of the Crimson Hands, asking me, his tormentor and holder of his leash for help?

I... I didn't know what to say. I was completely astounded.

What the hell kind of trouble did he get into that he found the need to ask others for help? Not demand, not threaten, but ask?!

I couldn't stop my eyes from flickering with amber curiosity. Nor could I help but to be a bit sarcastic at the proposition.

"Why is it always that when you're in trouble, there's a small vial filled with blue shit involved?"

The assassin's steely gaze narrowed. "Cut the jokes, weed."

Behind my mask, a sharp grin crossed my face. It slowly disappeared when I realized that the poor guy was deathly serious. He needed my help, and the slow realization crept up my spine that it must have been a dire situation indeed to request as such--after all I've done to him, and all the reasons I gave him to hate my mossy guts.

I also started putting some pieces of a greater puzzle together, and it created a picture that I didn't really like.

"What do you need from me?"

[Josette]

"He has brown hair, and amber eyes. About this tall." At the bar, a woman held her hand flat, just above her head, indicating approximate size. She herself was quite tall, a few inches above for the small, rural town. Her black hair was wound in a tight braid, which snaked over her left shoulder, between her armored breasts, and to the middle of her stomach. Drawn over her shoulders, and attached with sturdy clasp across her chestplate, was a thick, fur-lined cloak of dark crimson. It was too heavy for the Coronian autumn, but it appeared to have done an excellent job protecting against the rain; breeches, tunic, and remaining armor were all dry, while the outer layer dripped small puddles of water from its hem. Her black boots, well-worn, shone wetly beneath the tavern's bright lights. A rumble of thunder began its long gallop across the sky, and Josette waited until it had died away to speak again. "Have you seen him?"

The middle-aged farmer on the last stool rolled his eyes, his weathered face holding an expression of mild annoyance. "Lady," he stated plainly, "you just described about half the men in Corone."

"He is not from Corone," she corrected matter-of-factly. "He is here visiting, as am I."

"Uh-huh," came the man's disinterested reply. He drank from his mug of dark ale, then asked, "What makes you think he is even here?"

Josette wondered if she might be better off asking another patron. "His horse is in the stable. This is also the only establishment of this kind in town."

"And don't I know it," the man said, wiping at a bit of amber liquid that clung to the stubble on his chin. "Saw a man like you described down the other end of the bar. Looks like he's in bad shape too." With that, the man raised his drink in salute, then turned his back to the woman. Already striding away from him, she did not see the dismissal.

As assumed, it truly was Shinsou Vaan Osiris dangling limply from the edge of the bar. There were no stools available, and if he had ever had one, someone had taken it for themselves. Shinsou, it seemed, was content to merely lean on the worn wood, his forearms planted on the bar, his legs bent dangerously. It looked to Josette that he might topple at any moment. Three long strides carried her to him, the thud of her boots lost to the roar of the crowd. Though he had a few inches on her, the pair were about the same weight, accounting for Josette's stocky, muscular build. She maneuvered herself so one arm was across the front of his chest, and hooking both his arms above hers, she eased him away from the bar. Had it really been so long since she had let him ride off ahead? He had announced he was scouting ahead, and she had let him go, recognizing that he had needed time to reflect on his own. He had been through so much. But how could she have missed that personal reflection had meant total inebriation? If this had not been the first town she encountered, she might still be looking for him.

"Jo?" Shinsou drawled, assuring her that he was both very alive and very far gone.

"Yes, I am here," she answered mechanically, focused entirely on managing his weight. He was not especially heavy, but in his current state, he was limp and difficult to manage.

"Jo!" Far more cheerful this time, he proceeded to bury his face in her neck, offering what she assumed was sloppy kisses. She mostly just felt the drool, and fought the urge to cringe against it.

"Can you find your feet?" she asked crisply.

He gave a low, devilish moan against her damp skin. "Can you find what's in my pants?"

Josette frowned, attempting to shift him toward the stairs. If she could get him into a room, and away from the alcohol, she might have a chance at a quiet evening. Besides, if he was so drunk, he might not put up a fight when told to sleep on the floor; they fought for possession of the bed whenever they stayed together. "Why do you ask?" she answered distractedly. "Have you put something in there?"

[Ayaka]

*WILL ADD MORE WHEN VEN EDIRS HIS POST*

"Do what you want." ayaka muttered, she glanced down at her empty glass. Damn I could really use another drink. Dealing Eteri would require me to empty the damn bar.

Ayaka stood, albeit with a slight stumble, and shuffled out from the table. Despite what Venex said, there was clearly something going on between the two. Ayaka scoffed. How the hell did that blue psychopath land someone before her?

Ayaka didn't exactly care, or she told herself she didn't as her amber eyes trialled over the patrons of the bar. A man entered. But he was so drunk he could barely stand, he'd be no good. Besides it looked like his girlfriend had come to the rescue.

Who else... Some blonde woman? Ayaka wasnt sure she could sway the hand of her.

Next.

perfect

Her pink lips turned upward into a sly grin. He was perfect, he held himself with a cheeky confidence. And with that mop of brown hair he wasn't too bad on the eyes either.

With her own confident gait, and the way of her hips. Tail casually swinging to and fro.

Her first introduction was a hand that rested on his shoulder, sliding down to tap his own glass.

Her second was; "I'll tell you my name if you buy me a drink"