Friend of a Friend [closed]

(Closed to Flamebird)

Tall, handsome and bold, the man in the portrait was the epitome of what some thought of as the perfect specimen of a man. Fine, carved features, with an elegant chin, a firm look in his heavenly blue eyes and waves of pure white hair falling around his cheeks. Upon his lips was the curve of a subtle smile, that told of secrets and stories beyond what the normal methodologies of discovery could uncover. He was dressed in a fine, tailored suit, made by hands that clearly knew how to make him look strong and distinctive. Proud, he sat with a straight back and a demeanour that spoke aristocrat - truly he was defined, powerful and rich.

But the kenku looking at the portrait already knew that. After all, he was her master, her employer, and, most importantly, her god.

At least he had claimed her, as his father, the genuine entity who had created her race, had also discarded her race. Thus, when Sir Vitruvion Elssmith - noble, merchant, scholar and in secret according to the treaty he had formed with the Raiaeran Pantheon - had found her, and figured out what she was to him, he had claimed her as his own. Entirely. Already he had had her body, after that he had ensured her mind was bonded to his by way of a heavily enchanted cuff at her wrist. And then, most recently, he had established ownership over her soul, making her immortal when she had never wanted to be. He was a selfish, possessive, obsessive beast of a man who had ruined her life ... then made it worth something.

My dear, you are being distracting again.

Stare rolled her eyes as she turned herself away from the portrait, the thoughts of all that had transpired between her and Vitruvion falling to mere errant whimsies. Instead she twisted to face the rest of the front hall of the house on Bottleberry Avenue, Vitruvion's Raiaeran home. A gilt-edged door stood to one side of the hall, on the smaller end of the rectangle that was its shape. Opposite that an elegant staircase rose and then split into two to ascend the next level on either side. A small cabinet and two other doors came off from the house, and along with the portrait they made up the entirety of the room.

You are the one who can leave my mind, she sighed gently. For all their conversations took place in her mind. None of them in his. No matter how many times Stare had tried she could not gain into that godly brain, despite the connection. If I am a distraction then go away.

She briefly caught an image of his feet striding down the hallway. The view rose to reveal a long corridor as he lifted his own sight, and she heard the faint clacking of his infamous cane rapping on the floor as he walked.

I have told you enough it is a habit now, he answered, showing her an imagined image of his quirked smile, one that matched the portrait, But that aside, I have need of you. Brer is missing.

Stare paused, straightening. Brer was a good friend, and a strong, loyal warrior to Vitruvion. When Stare had first been introduced to the megalomaniac god (when she had actually been his prisoner/sex slave) Brer had been her guard. Quickly, when Vitruvion and her's real connection had been discovered, the half-giant who loved nothing better than curling up with a good romance novel had become her ally. Now he was a good friend, and co-worker, happily grunting when he answered her.

Brer is missing? she asked, astounded, Brer ... the half-giant. Huge, and - She began to scoff at the irony.

Vitruvion growled impatiently. Yes, Stare, missing. He was last seen in a public house, apparently not far from where you are. I am currently busy with - that does not matter. What does is you find his trail. The clicking of his stick got louder as he began to walk faster, clearly more irritated. Just go, will you. The Golden Hind, I believe the establishment was unimaginatively called.

The kenku glared at the ground, but could not help admit - she was worried for Brer herself, and wanted to do everything she personally could to help find him too. Yet, the way Vitruvion was speaking to her, nay the way he always spoke to her ...

Stare? her employer asked.

Letting out a sigh Stare nodded, straightening and rolling back her shoulders. She ducked into the cabinet, seizing a woollen cloak from within and throwing it around her shoulders. Yeah? I am going.

Good, the god said in a more pleased tone, clearly satisfied. As usual I will be watching.

Corone.

Felicity grew up here.

Well... she particularly grew up along the Bradbury River, close to Concordia. Her father had peacefully managed a shop with his niece - adopted daughter's - help. Meanwhile, his son had joined the rangers, quickly rising through their military ranks. Felicity had wanted to join him in the fight for freedom someday. This drove her to seek the way of the sword... That, however, was ages ago. The teacher she found grew dark, her cousin died in a skirmish, her uncle died due to natural causes.

When this dark twist of traumatizing events caused her to flee, why did she decided to tread the soil here once more?

Well... nothing quite beat the capital's bazaar.

She needed to develop an outfit for her special... abilities... if they could be called that. Resistance to nuclear energy was rare at all. She only needed an outfit that would not get burned when her powers blazed at their strongest! Hopefully, she would find something here. She was skeptical.

She had been staying in an inn called The Golden Hind. It was like all inns. It has warm fireplaces, harty food... and drunken morons. Thankfully, it was within daytime, so the fools who thought drinking their health away was fun were not here. Neither were the paid lovers or drug dealers. She spent the nights in her room. Door locked, delyn sword under pillows. The world had proven itself to never be safe.

Now, a new day was starting. The seventeen year old lass strode down the oak hallways, to the casino and diner. She wore a simple outfit, cyan top and brown pants. Her marvelous sword hung at her hip, although covered by the long, fur poncho she wore over her shirt. her white fedora, worn over her pulled back, red hair, had a ribbon on it.

The half neanderthal pulled out a bag full of coin and tossed it on the counter. It was early enough in the morning, the tables were still being washed. The floor had plentiful spills and stains of consumables. In the corner, even a chair was completely broken. The entire crew was fixing it, the bored bartender absentmindedly washed beer kegs.

The inn was still recovering from last night's parties... if one could call them that.

The bald, stout bartender raised an eyebrow at the fairly large sack of money.

"Oh waiter?" The redhead rattled off her request, "Three over easy eggs, two sides of both sausage and bacon, a large house potato, two loaves of whole grain toast, and a stack of six banana pancakes with chocolate chips and strawberry syrup please?" She then leaped in place, holding her arms in cheery excitement as she bubbled, "Oh! And cherries on top! With whipped cream! Oh, please?"

He dropped his beer glass, mouth gaped at the request.

Felicity bit her lip, muttering quietly, "It's a neanderthal thing. Wickedly high metabolism..."

He scoffed, then wiped his hands with his soapy dish towel. "Coming right up, ma'am." He chuckled and whistled as he turned to the back.

Right around the time of this conversation, the dark room was sudden hit was rays of early morning sunlight. As dust particles floated in the air, she entered.

Back and forth the lone sign upon the wind swung, balanced on creaking, rusted hinges. On its two faces was the same image - a proud, and strong hart standing, with one hoof raised and his head angled to look back over his shoulder. The fourteen points of his bone-coloured antlers rose and pricked the sky. It groaned like an old rocking chair, pushed by a gentle wind, but it was not enough to cover up the murmur of voices that came from within.

Slowly the black, bold kenku stepped into the low tavern, the voices neither getting louder, nor quieter as she entered. Some eyes drifted around to look at her, but only those of normal, curious nature who wished to see who the next patron was that had wandered in from the chill evening. One or two tables' worth lingered upon her, with brows raised as they studied her up and down, but then they spun away again. Yes, she was a kenku, and thus a rare species all around, but this was still Radasanth, city of a hundred races already. And she was wearing nothing special - just a humble woollen tunic and her cloak that hid the carefully folded wings that she had finally gotten used to. And the people here - why they were mostly left overs from the long night before. It was barely able to be called morning and most were either nursing headaches or eating fine breakfasts.

As the last eyes fled away from her, Stare pulled in her breath and allowed her own eyes to wander. She saw the fairly large hall, the various groups of patrons and the bar. Many species, from human to elf, to goblin and even a minotaur or two were present, and so she was not an entire alien. A group of idle musicians tinkered on their instruments, either rehearsing for the evening or fulfilling their own amusement. With a small nod to herself Stare Tsukaka, once called Avis, picked up her claw hind feet and began traversing over to the bar.

She saw a fiery redhead, unusually enthusiastic, early as it was. Stare raised her brow as she approached the bar.

"Someone is cheery," she commented as she leant against the bar. "Weirdo."

The barman looked over to her and paused, as he looked between the two. "Erm. Right. Are you here for breakfast too or ...?"

"No actually I'm here looking for someone," the kenku tilted her head. "Did you see a half giant in here recently?"

"Someone is cheery.”

Felicity had seen many intriguing species around. Having lived in Corone during the second half of her childhood, she was accustomed to many of the outlandish creatures even residing in the pub. Yet, this young woman with the head of a raven – or was it more like a crow? – had never crossed her path. A naturally curious, fascinated, expression crossed her features as she watched her lean against the counter. Then -

- "Weirdo."

Apparently, being mean was for the birds.

A monster suddenly awoke from a rusted cage.

Felicity’s eyes suddenly darkened. Narrowed slits harnessed green, venomous irises. The truth about Felicity Rhyolite was, she always bottled up rage and anxiety beneath the surface. On the outside, she tried to remain optimistic and peppy, yet… The minor offense of being called any name tossed and turned the burning coals beneath. Teenagers and females were known to have emotional swings, Felicity was both. This, however, was borderline unnatural. Felicity struggled with anger issues. Here, the anger over something so small seemed to be winning.

Within the early morning’s blurred tavern. The sunlight seeped through the pulled down shades. Violent, golden rays of heat seemed to metaphorically symbolize the storm clouds unleashed. She did not even hold back for second. The moment the humanoid spoke, the retort just came out.

Fists held in a bunched up grip, skin pale, tight lipped. She blurted it out, “The only half giant I’ve seen is your massive, huge, rotten attitude!”

Who had the rotten attitude, really?

She fumed. Panting started to develop. The misguided child only physically held back because her metabolism demanded food. Her stomach rumbled loud and audibly. Maybe, the hunger was what made her so upset in a single snap? Maybe, her anger management was just that horrible…

The bartender, sensing the tension between the two, acted quickly. Both to avoid bar fights and maintain his overall sanity, he grabbed two mugs and slid them between the space filled by the teenage girls. “Maybe you both need coffee? Because I’m too sensitive for drama, this will be on the house.”

He strummed his hand on the wooden counter as he thought, “Er, yeah. I saw quite the large fellow some times ago.” While still eyeing the kenku, he quickly lifted his hand and pushed a mug closer to the agitated redhead, “He sorta seemed like giant material. Want a physical description?”

The redhead crossed her arms, grumbling, “What I want is caffeinated tea with a side of respect. I’m tired of playing lowest class…” She grabbed the mug and stormed to a far off table.

…

The bartender nervously chuckled, “Uh, this-this pub always attracts the moody ones. I apologize… Did you want that physical description and how do you take your coffee?” Shaking and red faced, he pulled out a pen and paper from under the counter.

Stare looked over at the hot-headed, wild woman, full of rage and fury at her sarcastic comment and found herself drifting into silence. Beak halves merged together, hard lined and full of intrigue she watched the previously enthusiastic coffee drinker stalk away and glower. That fiery hair and those vivid eyes made her look as if she was from some form of epic romance, drifting in from a fiction book or a fairy tale. There was muscle around her shoulders, arms and legs - a clear sign of muscle - with little to no fat of youth clinging to her form. Tilting her head the kenku eyed up the lass, steadily breathing as the bartender's question hung in the air as a quandary of situation. Tension continued to reign between them as the redhead continued to fume, and Stare continued to do what her name suggested.

"Erm ..."

"Yes, a physical description would be good," the kenku replied, still gazing at her. Her words were exact, still full of life despite her current distraction. She could not help but find solace in the way that the red head had turned and left, filled with a great burning passion so sudden and boiling. It was different to the world here, and reminded Stare strangely of the way that her employer, Vitruvion, flew into a rage when he had been injured in some way - not in the physical way, but rather when he had been insulted, hurt emotionally or cruelly rejected.

Your comparisons of myself to that girl are not endearing, he mused in the back of her head. With a sigh, she ignored him.

"Well, he was tall," the barkeeper said in a voice lacking in amusement, all of his cheeriness gone now that Stare was ignoring him with his eyes. "Brown, unkempt hair, small beady eyes. Did not talk much, was strong and had a large hammer attached to his belt." Stare nodded, it sounded a little like Brer. "He also ... walked with a limp."

Well that was different. Stare spun, her eyes drifting quickly towards the barkeep, giving him her full attention for the first time in five minutes. He jumped a little with the suddenness of her movements, gasping somewhat and raising his brows as she gazed. His hands flourished at the coffee mug that he had left for her on the bar and she grunted, sweeping it up with a clawed hand.

"Limp?" she asked. "Was he injured?"

The barkeep frowned a little, but shook his head. "No ... but fights do break out around here. I mean, you could ask ..." he glanced over to the red head, slightly awkwardly. "Around."

Stare sighed, "Where did he go afterwards?"

"While he was here he got into some argument about a spilt beer with a local lad, Timiscole ... he's - well he's not your worry, but his brother is. Is part of a ... gang. They might have something to do with your missing giant."

Opening her beak Stare poured down some of her coffee into her beak. It slipped down, warm and satisfying, and she found herself nodding. Brer would be the one to attract the attention of the wrong sort - what with his size, and his strange way of keeping calm but then battering out suddenly with his hammer. Not the peaceful sort was the half-giant.

Slowly she nodded. "Right," and her eyes spun back to the red head. Time to find out more about her, this weirdo, but one with a strange attitude. The way she walked, talked and suddenly flew into anger ... there had to be something special about that. It was so close to Vitruvion's righteous godly fury that it made the kenku's heart tremble.

The barkeep's eyes widened as he watched her kick away from the bar - and begin to stalk towards the red head.

"Hoi," Stare garbled to Felicity, "You know of any gangs around here?"

The fedora had been placed onto the table. The half-neanderthal slumped in her seat, her brown poncho sprawled over the wooden bench. As shifting shades of dim sunlight floated around, she felt her pulse struggling to calm. In the cold corner, her veins throbbed. Sweat steadily coated her large forehead.

Felicity had been, well, triggered.

A childhood of being subjected to racism caused the explosion. Yet even here, as her heartbeat stampeded, her consciousness steadily creeped along, like the floating shadows around the bar. Really, there was no need for the overreaction of the year about a mild, harmless insult. Being called a weirdo was quite tame compared to some of those other names. As her consciousness whispered into one ear, her rage screamed into the other. The small devils on her shoulders begged and pleaded, shouted and argued. She was stubborn. She almost refused to let herself admit she had been in the wrong.

Her peridot eyes glared holes into her pale, sweaty hands which clasped each other on the wooden table. As dust particles floated around, everything and everyone else in the bar felt distant. Millions of miles away, divided by an invisible glass wall. All the voices felt slurred and echoed. Their frames were blurred to her, so locked inside. She was not even in the room it seemed, she was lost inside her head. As the demons on her shoulder squabbled for scraps of her mind, she heard a single voice stand out. Familiar, it drove her to snap out of her daze. Shifting from freezing ice to boiling lava, her head flashed to lock their eyes in a millisecond. Her body jolted, toxic blood still pumping at light speed from that confrontation. Yet, as the raven lady asked her a question, the magma cooled back into stone.

Shoulders still tight, body still cramped together; yet her shaking eyes lost their intensity. She melted. She spoke in a soft yet stressed tone. “I-I’m so-orry for my-y b-behahavvior, I-“

The disturbed child pulled a hand up, elbow resting against the table. Her forehead met her palm in exasperation, “-I- have no-no excuse.” Her teary eyes closed. I have anger issues through the roof!

First she was cheerful, then enraged, then guilty in a matter of minutes. Was she neurotic or insane? Was the anger even a natural part of her? Or was it a byproduct of her powers? Was it both? Was it her fault?

Just after stating her crazed apology, her eyes flashed open when she remembered the crow girl’s question in the edges of her mentality. She pushed her arms up. Leaning against the wall, she rubbed her face as she spoke, “I grew up on the opposite side of the civil war. I could say what’s going on in Concordia, but I know nearly nothing about Radasanth.”

After holding her hands on her face for several seconds, she pulled them down. “Didn’t you say y'were looking for a giant?”

She had to repay Crow Lady for her outburst. As far as Felicity was concerned, watching Ashla track and beat up crime lords enough times taught her a thing or two about detective stuff.

- Then again… there was that whole beating up part of what Ashla had done.

A nervous chuckle burst from the red faced teen.

Stare watched as the strange red-head woman excused her earlier behaviour. It was strange seeing this creature that has the appearance of human but the body mass and build of something akin to a dwarf apologise to her, a creature clearly not meeting the strength. Although if it were to be admitted, Stare would still likely win a battle between herself and this other girl – if magic was to be permitted.The kenku raised her hands, lifting them in a sign of peace as she forced herself to act reasonably, as if she was dealing with yet another employee of Vitruvion's. Forcing a smile to come to her narrow, but bright and beady black eyes, Stare chose to act with diplomacy even though she had skill in many other ways of interaction.

She thought about when the Civil War had been. To her it was time beyond when she herself had lived, and in a place where she had never been. Having grown up in Akashima her life had been very different from other residents of Corone. Her life had been full of tradition, feudalism and a system based around honour. The Civil War had never reached her home for her community and her people lived apart from others. It was only when her entire family, the last member being her mother, had fell into the ever waiting arms of death had she finally left that familiar place. Radasanth to her was another world, the place were she was partly forced to be because of the single man who ruled her life. Perhaps in a way she was living through the horrors of war, but in a time when there was little physical violence aside from the one single time she had lost her life. Yet, unlike her brothers, and her father Stare had still not witnessed a battle of many, many men and women. Oh yes, she has seen blood, she had witnessed torture, even being a victim of such, and watched as young man gave their life for the belief that they held onto with all their heart. But, still yet, she had to witness a true war.

"Indeed, I am looking for a giant of a man," the kenku said, "although I believe technically he is half giant according to his biology. So the rumours say."

The giant had never actually told her that he was descended from the great, tall, and in some peoples' minds, mythical beings that dwelt usually mountains and forests. Many times had they talked, her and that gentle man who wielded such strength yet was kind in his heart, about a great many topics such as her past, but never about himself – at least in terms of his history. He was known to be a great lover of romance novels, delighting in the works of such authors as Lord Walter Scott, an elf from the city of Etterrmire, who had lived around a century earlier than both of them. He was also known to have a great love of drinking, which had led her here.

"He is a friend of mine I would say," Stare said, "though some would say just a work colleague."

Indeed, the two of them had actually first met at the time when she had been a prisoner within Vitruvion's hellhole of a pleasure house. He had been her guard. However, time had passed and now the two of them could talk about other things aside from books.

Slowly she looked the redhead up and down, wondering if this woman could truly help though she was more familiar with city then Stare herself was. Though she seemed apologetic it was clear she had some temper issues. On the other hand the kenku clearly had no other people that were able to help her to find such a man would take more than the work of one simple person who knew the country so poorly. Yes, the human that was similar to a muscled dwarf warrior had said she knew the city not too well, but she seemed the sort of person who would do better faring against gang members. Stare definitely could not by herself face such people. Her master would never forgive her for breaking too many bones, and she honestly knew she needed the help perhaps a financial gain to the redhead would persuade her to assist the kenku in her quest.

"You know this country more than I do however," she gazed right into her eyes. "If you're not otherwise busy I am in need of assistance. I am willing to offer a generous reward if you are able to help me."

The bar around them danced with the many diversifying species of people. Some were drinking, some were eating, some were discussing business plans and holding meetings with colleagues. It seemed as if Felicity and Crow Lady fell into the latter role. The humanoid raven spoke in a proper, conformed manner. She might as well have been raised as royalty, as her respectful yet cold demeanor portrayed her as a businesslike, traditionalist soul. As she spoke, Felicity watched with her head leaned against the wall. Her hands grasped her knees in some form of stress, like she was listening intensely but needed to move. The very concept of a money reward seemed appealing, yet Felicity would have to turn it down. She needed to make up for her behavior, as her anger needed to be whipped into submission again, to fall into the darkness of her subconscious again. Felicity did not know it, but her lack of self-esteem also caused her to turn against the concept of a reward. She felt low, filthy… Her anger caused her to snap, which made enough racket inside to beat herself up, mercilessly. It only fueled her anger even more, really. Her easily prodded inner monster was fed up with feeling her own abuse, waiting for the next time any defense was needed. It was a cycle. A dark cycle.

Her slitted eyes closed. She took a deep breath, burying her anger underneath. She sat up straight, letting out a shaky breath. She placed her folded hands on the table, opening her eyes. She met the dark bird's professionalism with her own. She tried to appear calm and sincere as she replied.

“No need for any rewards.” She lifted her hand in a calming gesture before clasping her hands again, “For my previous outburst you deserve better.”

She smiled in a moment of amusement, “I don’t know how I can help, but I can try so we can call it even. Sound good?”

She chuckled, the “optimistic” shell that used to be her genuine personality surfaced again.

She just had to be borderline for this rapid change in many moods.

A waiter nervously walked up to the twosome. He put on a fake smile as he placed their respective drinks down, “We hope you are enjoying your stay at the Golden Hind, where everyone is happy and we're awake twenty four seven! To meet your every need!”

He turned to the redhead, “Your feast will be ready in a moment.”

He turned and nervously walked away, the floorboards creaking as he descended into a weary, eternal laughing fit of madness.

…

Felicity cupped to mug in her hands. The herbal, sweet smelling elixir was quite appetizing. Her stomach growled. She blew the hot steam, hoping to get it cooled down just enough to take a sip. The glass mug revealed the calming, green liquid as Felicity spoke, “But first. I food eat need. Or else I get cranky." She took a calm, tame sip of the beverage.

And thus, the two oddities ate.

Slowly Stare gulped down her food, letting the meat and its juices slide down her throat with warm comfort. It was the greatness of taste mixed with the luxury of quality, that slipped into her stomach to be digested by the powerful juices there. Slowly she blinked as she swallowed, and barely chewed (being a crow in all but stature), watching the woman in front of her as they started to create something that was apparently going to be a working relationship.

"My friend Brer," she explained, "Went missing about two days ago. He is a half-giant ... obviously from what I was saying, and would not disappear from anywhere without any good excuse. We share an employer."

Grabbing a slab of bread, complete with crust, she proceeded to rip off a large side of it using her sharp claws. Popping her neck as she twisted it to the side she paused for a moment, trying to think of what other information was integral to seeking him. She shoved some of the bread into her beak again and let it succumb to gravity to be with the meat. Should she tell this girl about Vitruvion in his entirety? Should she tell her about all that had occurred, including the attack on the brewery? Should she explain that Brer had once been her guard, before Stare had properly been able to defend herself, and that they had bonded over romantics? How much information was too much?

Tell her what needs to be given, and no more, the low voice of Vitruvion hummed inside of her head. Stare rolled her eyes slightly, but agreed. It was, indeed, best for the situation.

"The barman said he got into some arguement with a local gang. I do not know this city much, and apparently neither do you, but have you been here before? To this pub, I mean? Maybe you know the gang members accidentally?"

She paused and put her head to the side, curious. "What do you do exactly?"

Felicity only partially paid attention to the words crow-lady spoke as she stuffed her face with pancakes.

My friend Brer went missing about two days ago. He is a half-giant ... obviously from what I was saying, and would not disappear from anywhere without any good excuse. We share an employer."

A half-giant, yes. He went missing. Felicity chewed more slowly, the dark thoughts of this city’s troubles crossing her minds. A strict empire, many street gangs… the possibilities were wild. With how cold and calm headed Stare was, Felicity could not tell if he meant anything to her. Thus far, it seemed as if they were only fellow workers.

Felicity took a break from the pancakes. The teen rapidly cut her eggs and ate them with one hand. With the other, she shoved toast in her face. The woman continued.

”The barman said he got into some argument with a local gang. I do not know this city much, and apparently neither do you, but have you been here before? To this pub, I mean? Maybe you know the gang members accidentally?"

Having devoured her toast so fast she barely tasted it, Felicity grabbed the bacon and pushed it into her hungry jaws. The crisp, greasy perfection of pig meat was enough to put her in a trance. Instead, she listened. Their options were already narrowed to gangs that resided within the pub within this past week. The redhead had been here for a while, so she possibly could have crossed paths with them. This Brer, however, she could not remember.

"What do you do exactly?"

For the first time since her food was placed in front of her, she looked up. Potato continued to slide down the side of her face as her full mouth chewed ravagely. She had guzzled her food in lightning speed with zero thought of any manners. She put her food and fork down. She gulped what was in her mouth and hastily cleaned her mouth with a handkerchief.

What did she do, exactly?

Felicity took ahold of her tea again, but only held it in her hand. She did not lift it as she responded, “I’m actually a pharmacist, botanist, alchemist, whatever else. I make potions and pills, study plants and magic…” She leaned back against the wall again. Swiveling the tea, she continued, “I also tend to run around and, well, explore the world. I’ve been to Raiaera, Eiskalt, Dheathian…”

She chuckled reminiscently, “It’s fun!”

She then looked back to the crow. Suddenly, she remembered the task at hand. “But that’s not important. What is important – finding your partner.”

She swiped another strip of bacon and quickly took a bite, still trying to behave more formal.

Stare found herself nodding, her great beak gently bobbing up and down almost as soon as the red-haired stranger girl began to speak.

"Yes," she agreed whole-heartedly. "I do need to find him."

Brer was a sweetheart when it came down to the core of him, yet he was still a warrior. A man who loved his epic romance stories and would talk for a long time on how he longed to gain such for himself. Usually, however, he was quiet, grunting only a few words when in conversation, however when one got him in conversation about something he was passionate about then suddenly he would become a gossiping fishwife - eyes wide and full of excitement. It was odd to see the huge man with a war-hammer, a club or a halberd making such animated gestures, but then Stare was not exactly normal herself. Together they made a suitably odd pair.

There was a shimmer in her eyes as she thought about him and she relaxed as she considered the happiness of having such a friend. Gently she leaned back in her seat and surveyed the brown liquid with the cream foam in her glass, thinking of a grimy beach but one from her home. Her chest rose and fell as she considered what her life was, how she had come from such a place to here now, searching for the man who had been her guard when she was nothing more than a sex slave. Slowly she blinked.

"If you want to help, I will give a reward, whatever you say. More eyes are better than none."

She tilted her head as she surveyed the girl. "I am Stare. Well I am called that, anyway. So I am that. What is-"

Just then, the door crashed open. Or rather it was slammed open as three huge dwarves and a tiny human strode in, armed to the bone with knuckle dusters. As they walked their shirts of light mail rang out, clanging with large ornaments that hung around their necks - skulls and coins and beads. It was a shock, and indeed the entire bar fell to quiet as they walked in, leaving the door to groan in pain behind them. They headed straight for the bar, where the man who had first served Stare and the red-head. The barman shot Stare a sudden look, knowing.

And he nodded quickly to the men before pulling on a massively fake smile.

"Gentlemen, how can I help?"

Stare blinked a moment. Her eyes glanced over to the dwarves and men as she took in what they were and what they looked liked. Their skulls decorations. Their matching clothing. They were ...

Crumbs. A gang. The gang.

Oh look, a gang.

The gruff, bulky dwarves cleared the path for one, small man. Wait, no, he was too small to be human… Yes, his unusually large, hairy bare feet and curled hair confirmed quite the odd creature. This small male, who wore glasses and a jacket with a lavish skull symbol, was a halfling.

Felicity never met a halfling before. She had heard they were free spirited, merry folk who preferred to take a nap and lazily fish more than anything else. Yet, here one was, a gang leader. Felicity guessed she shouldn’t judge a race by stereotypes.

The blond halfling pulled a pipe from his mouth, releasing smoke fumes from his chapped lips, “Quit the chatter, Matthew. You know what we want.”

The bartender, Matthew, scowled. He turned and walked towards the back. Felicity felt her heart pounding as she hastily observed the scene. It was odd, but everyone seemed surprisingly calm. Not many patrons showed any concern, at least visible. They just watched with impatience as the dwarvern henchmen scowled. Soon enough, Matthew came back with three heaping sacks of glittering coin. “Three fourths of my income, all yours.”

Words from earlier echoed in Felicity’s mind. ”Because I’m too sensitive for drama, this will be on the house.”

Everything clicked.

As the dwarves started to collect their easily looted gains, it made sense. The more sensitive bartender gave them anything they wanted in exchange for a lack of trouble.

The halfling let out another puff of smoke, “Thank you. Just so you know, our protection has been halved.”

Alarm shot through the innkeeper's eyes, “What?”

The halfling clenched the pipe in his mouth, scowling, “One of your patrons gave our men a little too much trouble the other night. So half of your protection is keeping him as our guest.” Through tinted glasses, he glared with a low growl, “Do you have a problem with that?”

He silently shook his head, like a disciplined toddler.

The halfling sneered, a crooked smile forming, “Good. Always a pleasure doing business with you,” He turned and started to walk out, smirking, “Coward.”

As Matthew lowered his head, shamed, Felicity clenched her fists. Her teeth gritted as the unfolding situation burned her. Her chest flared, hot flames expanding as her reckless temper got the best of her. The tavern keep may have been a coward, but she was not.

She stood up, stomping her foot. She put a hand on her sword's hilt as she let out a powerful, raw, roar. “Hey!”

Almost at the front door, the smoking halfling stopped and turned his head. The sunlight bounced off his glasses, his long neck collar and pipe covered his bottom face. This made his expression completely unreadable. Felicity’s tightened free fist was raised, eye dilated, as she boomed, “You think you can get away with that on my watch?”

The dwarves all seemed… confused. As they glanced at each other with confused expressions, the halfling raised a lazy hand and pulled the pipe from his mouth. A puff of smoke flew around his face as he muttered something under his breath. Then, he spoke in a voice that hinted that he was… bored?

“Who are you again?”

Felicity sharply drew her sword. The delyn blade shimmered as dust floated around it. The child hissed as her eyes alone spat enough venom to kill. She did not even take the time to reply. Instead, she darted forward. She lunged her sword at the nearest dwarf. She attacked.

One would think that the fight was unfair for her, yet she quickly proved her skill. Her bladesmanship was violent, quick to the point, and effective. Brutally, she used the half swording techniques the apply blunt damage to the dwarves. Kicks and punches were thrown in as she used her superior reach to evade and conquer. It was within mere seconds that she stood around a pile of bruised, broken, but alive dwarves. As they moaned, the unmoved halfling sighed, “Seriously?”

Felicity hastily walked up to the mobster, untainted blade tip pointed at his face.

The ring leader scoffed, a smirk formed over his mouth. “Honestly, those guys are horrible. I just brought them because they look tough and I didn’t expect trouble.” He shot a warning glance at Matthew, who hid his face from the halfling. Seemingly exhausted, the gangster scowled, “It is pathetic though, they got beat up by a little girl with improper form, poor fine motor movement, and obvious temper issues.”

Felicity barked, “D-don’t insult me, slime!”

The halfling merely shrugged, smirking as he raised a golden ring with a cyan gem in the air, “And come on, lass, we both know you would not actually use that blade on me. You do not have what it takes to kill, do you not?”

Her eyes widened, a silent gasp escaped her.

The halfling smirked, “That is what I thought.”

The ring began to glow. Even the darkest corners of the shaded bar were illuminated by the glowing light. Felicity had to step back, cover her eyes, as the mobster shouted proudly.

“Besides, even if you tried, nobody could beat Hunter Thornbush in a fight. Nobody!”

The light reached blinding proportions before… darkness again.

Felicity squinted, barely able to take in the visuals of the shocked mine as she attempted to track the gang leader again. The smell of beer and whiskey, vomit and urine, hit her hard. All unpleasant scents to her. The numerous murmurs and hasty escapes of patrons flooded her ears as she felt the wind of a sea of people racing past her. Yet, even as the door opened and most left the building, Felicity could already figure out one thing.

This Hunter Thornbush had escaped.

Stare watched with some amusement as her new apparent friend took down all six or seven of the dwarves in successive, seemingly easy blows. Leaning back she observed with the impressive attitude of a lordling, feeling very much like a Vitruvion as she relaxed there, ale in hand as others did her work.

Naturally her earhole shad caught the words.

"One of your patrons gave our men a little too much trouble the other night. So half of your protection is keeping him as our guest."

By their description, dress and style they had already singled themselves out as Brer's kidnappers. Now the sentence confirmed that these were the men Stare was looking for. As Felicity strode towards the last one - that disgusting little imp of a halfling who seemed their leader - the kenku swung off the bench, landing her clawed feet on the ground. She gripped the floorboards with small cuts into the wood, then stood up, raising her beak. Slowly, as she started to walk over she pulled her titanium, clawed gauntlet that was attached to her corded belt and began to tug it on.

It was then the halfling suddenly chortled - then vanished in a flash of light. Stare blinked past it, her eyes only momentarily suffering as an effect as all others around her groaned. He hailed himself as 'Hunter Thornbush' before he left, and she hissed darkly as the redhead claimed back her sight and sanity. The kenku made the rest of her way over, her wings bristling with apprehension and anger, shoulders hunched as if she stalked prey. Her eyes swept wide, and suddenly gone was her feelings of grandeur and pleasure.

"You alright?" she grunted as she caught the barbarian-like warrior. Catching her shoulder with her non-gauntleted hand she helped the girl to steady before swinging her eyes over to the barman.

"You. So that man ... Hunter Thornberry or whatever. He runs your tavern?"

"We - we do not have any trouble from anyone else."

Stare still held onto the redhead but raised herself higher. "Where does he live?"

The barman's eyes widened and he shook a little. "I - I cannot ..."

"If you tell me, then we will rid you of the entire gang," Stare said, "what is more, if my search gains the safety of my friend, I will guarantee you protection for a much smaller price, from a group of highly trained mercenaries." She paused, "plus cheap services from the Grand Celestial Brewery."

The barman blinked, "the - the large brewery out of town. How can you-?"

"I work for the man who owns it," she explained quickly. "Now, can you tell us where to go?"