The Sword and Staff [All Welcome]

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias watched the bottom of his drink steadily grow closer, indifferent to the scenery around him. The seedy ne'er-do-wells who frequented the shadows of these establishments were like sores on his back: annoying, painful, and damn hard to get rid of. If he could manage it, the Sword Hunter would have no part of the criminal underworld on this occasion. His invitation was purely educational, after all.

"Purely educational," he nodded to himself, and swigged another sip of ale. His face lit up and his cheeks grew warm. "Gods bless the swill in countryside watering holes." The warmth radiated through his body and the buzz lingered in his ears; but Tobias had tasted far better, and he knew it.

He was halfway into a third sip when the gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and his eyes were on her before she was on his glass. Their eyes locked, and she spoke- there sheer audacity of it pricked at the edges of his lips. I'll tell you my name if you buy me a drink. He had met women with a far more extravagant price tag, granted.

"Just your name?" he asked, a smile playing at his features. He shuffled through his belongings for a few gold coins beneath the table, and with the other hand bid her take a seat. "I feel I may be getting a raw deal here, miss," he said. "Or does your name include your fine company?"

The golden eyed Dehlosian youth flashed a smile that could destroy innocence as he fished out the coins at last and hailed for a server to serve the girl her choice of alcohol. The young man was around moments later, and awaited her order. Tobias could tell a great deal about someone from their choice of drink, too.

[Ayaka]

Ayaka turned to the bartender; scotch on the rocks. Radasanthian, and a teaspoon of sugar."

"sugar?"

"Did I fuckin' stutter? Or Is this swill hole so dilapidated that basic condiments are out of your grasp?"

The bartender muttered under his breath, Ayaka dutifully watched as he prepared her drink. Often a pissed bartender meant a poor, well, pour.

Ayaka picked up the drink, barely giving it time to hit the bar. She drank half the glass, ears twitching in delight as the strength and taste hit her hard and fast. Her golden eyes locked with his own equally amber pools. He was more astute than she gave him credit for. Then again, she did not give anyone much credit.

"Ayaka." she breathed as she pulled out a clean handkerchief from the folds of her red pants.

"Buy me another, your choice, then I'll take a seat."

His eyes twinkled with the new challenge before him. He nodded and Ayaka took her seat. Leaning on the counter she gave him a grin, feeling heated from the alcohol, her head buzzing.

"you know I'm not a hooker, and just looking for someone to part with their coin for my own gain, right?"

He shrugged as he signalled the bartender over.

"you can tell a lot about someone, from the drink they order." Ayaka mused.

[Tobias Stalt]

His neatly trimmed face twisted in amusement at the scene that unfolded, the perfect performance of a classless rogue on a quest for self-indulgence. He had shared in the endearing parts of that life as well, and in the emptiness that it often bestowed on the poor bastard who lived it. This woman knew what she wanted, and despite even the foul temper of the bartender, Akaya would have her due.

She made it clear that she was only looking to drink for free, and he smiled. "Ah dear, I'm not a man who pays for sex," he said with a laugh.

She glanced at him readily the instant her lavish tastes were whetted. "Someone who enjoys nice things," he muttered to himself as she retrieved a handkerchief. He watched her movements carefully for a moment, and then turned to the bartender. "Many pardons, friend," he said with a kind expression to the salty looking man. "I've a request."

The man turned slowly to the traveller and rested his arms on the bar. "You got a good one for me boy?" he asked. "Nothing with sugar, I hope?" He fixed the catty woman with a half glare. Sugar in booze! The nerve!

"Nothing so extravagant, my friend," Tobias reached once more into his bag of tricks and produced a handful of coins, each finding its way merrily into the hands of the barkeep. "Rum," he stated firmly, "Serenti, if you've got any to spare."

"For you, I have Spiced Rum from the stocks of Serenti, my friend," the man counted his new stash of gold greedily and returned with a bottle of black label rum, placed it on the table in front of Tobias, and put a shot glass on either side of the container. "Unopened, and all yours."

The Dehlosian smiled to the bartender, who went back to his work. "Now then," he reached into the pockets of his own shirt and produced several small phials, which he opened and gestured to in turn. "Honey from Raiaera," he offered her a whiff, then poured a sizable dab into each of their shit glasses, "juice from a frostfruit, in Salvar," he again offered to let her test it for poison, then dropped a single drop in both containers. "A touch of Dehlosian Ambrosia," he smirked as he added the last bit and then, he cracked the rum itself. The drink that bubbled before them smelled of the summer sea, and the spices were mind numbingly smooth.

Tobias folded his hands and rested his gaze on the woman beside him.

[Ayaka]

"Keep that up barboy, and I'll come to you." Ayaka shot back at the bartender. Where did the other man go? She liked him. The bartender scoffed and turned to her companion. "You sure about her?" He wandered off to talk to a green haired waitress. No doubt to talk about the bitch catgirl.

Then, the man started filling the glass with an array of sweet things. Ayaka's eyes lit up and she unwittingly licked her lips, leaning forward. how curious this man was.

He finished and handed the glass to her. Ayaka traced the rim of the glass with her forefinger. She shook her head when he offered her a test, no doubt to see if he was attempting anything underhanded or seedy. "Sweetheart, we could both down poison, and I assure you. I would still stand." She needn't tell him it was her profession, she felt it obvious with her words. And if it weren't. Then he needn't know. She offered him a toothy grin, "How suspicious you are..."

She leaned closer, one hand on his leg. "One would think you're a collector of nefarious things." she watched him take a drink, and continued. "Perhaps women, or...weapons?"

She was ready to write him off, take him for a quick ride, get a few free drinks then retire. Now? He was luring her in just as much as she was him.

Ayaka took her own shot glass and held it out to him," to the strange man with golden eyes."

The taste hit her, it was sweet and it was as though she were swimming through fields of honey, the scent had her floating, and before she even realized, she found herself curled comfortably in his lap.

"I think I need another."

[Tobias Stalt]

"Tobias," he replied when she toasted his health. It was always good practice to give one's own name at that point. She had made a guess about his profession and come close to the mark; as an adventurer, Tobias had resolved himself to a fascination with legends and stories about weapons from across time. Any word of a Smith could send him from here to the cliffs of Kachuck at the drop of a hat, and he'd never miss a beat. Unfortunately, his love for the drink was almost as fierce.

The woman who, moment's before, had insisted she was no harlot now sat eagerly in his lap and asked for more liquor. Tobias happily recreated the concoction, only after downing the remnants of his own. He finished the frothy mix and left it on the table for her to take at her leisure.

"I'm not brave enough to start a collection of women," he jested lightly. "But sometimes I see a pretty one, and I get a little interested."

[Ayaka]

"Tobias."

The name rolled off her tongue like velvet. Ayaka knew her cheeks were flush, and she knew she had defied her own words. But with every drink she found herself caring less and less.

Alcohol was an escape. From the annoying people around her, from the constant flurry of colours. And from her Thayne Damn sister.

Ayaka picked up the frothing shot and downed it. She slammed the glass on the table and wiped her mouth delicately with her cotton handkerchief.

"Orange."

She began, as she shut her eyes to stop the room swimming. Ayaka was painfully aware of the sudden warmth of his Palm on her hip.

"Your soul."

She continued. "It burns, like fire. Untamed, but tainted. You're a free and passionate man. But..." Ayaka snorted as she turned, jabbing a finger drunkenly into his chest. "There's a wavering darkness amongst it."

Ayaka sighed, "It's a fucking nightmare seeing such garish colours on a daily basis. Gives you a headache."

She pointed to the bartender, "He'd fuck you, I can tell by the colour his soul."

Ayaka grinned, "Why not start a collection of wanton men?" Her tail curled around his leg. "Or would you pref-hic-prrfer us to find a woman?"

[Tobias Stalt]

Amusing though her antics were, Tobias had a tolerance for the poison that made his enjoyment far less than the catkin's own. She reveled in the new flavor like a kitten at play, and the swordsman watched her almost like a grandfather watching a child at play. He let one arm drape off the edge of the table and rested his chin against his fist.

When she slammed the glass down, his eyes moved to her slowly. She announced the color orange loudly, like some profound discovery, and shook off some incredible pain. When she explained that it was the color of his soul, Tobias tapped one finger against the wooden table expectantly.

Since his arrival in Althanas, the Merchant's son had seen all manner of mysticism and listen to the wise words of vaunted mages. She talked about freedom, and of passion, and more interestingly about the darkness there. Everyone had it, but she touched his chest and announced how it lingered.

No sooner did she make a nearly prohphetic statement, the stupor sent her dissembling. Headaches and nightmares, and the bartender wanting to take him to bed all sounded the same in Tobias' opinion. "No thanks," he said at last when she got on about collecting men, or even women. "I didn't come here to fuck anyone, truth be told. I got an invitation, but I haven't seen the sender since I arrived."

His shoulders sagged a bit. The juicy tip about a fabled blade felt increasingly like a dead end with each new moment. "But, if you'd like to keep me company this evening, I won't consider the journey here a total loss."

Tobias offered the girl a scandalous wink.

[Lye]

In this isolated dimension born of Lye's will, a pause between two people meant perfect, eerie silence. In this pause, the assassin struggled to find the correct words. Seeking help conflicted with several skewed moral principles. This struggle wore plainly in his face. How much should Madison know? So much changed since that year beneath the mountain. So many new secrets were born since every last one was wrung from his beaten and ragged corpse. He knew far well how deep her resentment was for him. To owe him anymore than a dagger in the heart would be a drastic leap of faith.

"Scarle--" He began, hanging on the name. "Amari has taken a turn I never predicted."

A minute fraction of a pause settled between his words, but he denied Madison the "I told you so" he expected from her.

"You still have the tome of the Ar'tuel," he continued. Lye reached out and took Madison's hand. In it, he placed the blue vial. "I am out of time and out of resources. Even I don't like what's become of her and I cannot undo it. She needed to be strong for what's to come, not a demon."

The assassin closed Madison's vines over what purity remained of Amari's soul. Then, he produced a small scroll no bigger than the phial itself. This, he held in between them.

"Today's assassination attempt is clear proof my assumptions are correct. Conditioning the girl has drawn too much attention to the Crimson Hand and ultimately myself. I won't be able to run from this, Madison, but I won't be put down like a dog. Take this."

He held out the scroll to the briarheart.

"Directions to the first sanctum," he stated. "I first told you about it after you broke me in that hell hole. My life's work will begin when I am gone. Part of it is in that sanctum. We don't see eye to eye, but you understand me better than anyone else. Maybe you'll appreciate what all this has been about. Maybe not."

[Briarheart]

Amari. So that's her real name.

I regarded the scroll that the assassin offered for a moment before I took it from him and stashed it in the folds of my robes. It wasn't quite sinking in--yet--the enormity of what he was entrusting me with. I recalled his confessions and the plans he laid out under extreme amounts of pain and duress when I had him buried under the Seventh Sanctum, but I never really gave them much thought. Wrote them off as the dreams of a power-hungry madman. Assumed that he would give them up after his conditioning had been completed.

How wrong I was, it seemed.

And now... he was trusting me with the continuation of his plans? The First Sanctum, the most important piece of his plans, and he was handing me the keys to the front door. Me. Who turned his organization against him. Me. Who stabbed him in the back multiple times and forced him through hell for a year.

Why? Seriously, though. Why?

To say I was confused was a gross understatement. Was it because the one he had chosen had evolved into something completely different than what he intended, and he needed a contingency plan? And the only other really qualified people have long since fucked off and left him in the cold. Aurelianus Drak'shal. The Faun, Philomel. ...who else did he have?

It was in that moment that I felt something for him that I never thought I would--pity. All of his plans coming unraveled due to things spiraling out of control. Playing with forces that he could not have understood.

It reminded me of myself, and my tangling with the darker threads of science, and the Forgotten Ones.

I took a deep breath. I was about to do something that I never could have imagined.

"I'll look into it. I have someone working on a translation of the Ar'Tuel tome." I made the conscious decision to leave out the fact that it was another Ar'Tuel. Maybe he already knew, though. "I haven't had the, uh, experiences you have with Red--Amari, whatever, after she started changing. I've only seen her twice since I left the Seventh Sanctum for Concordia, tonight being the second. I... I don't like it either. I'm not going to cast any blame, because we both know that it's a worthless gesture at this point. I've seen enough of the tome to know that what she's turning into needs to be stopped. So, I'm more than willing to help you out here."

"Thank you," Lye said with a nod. He then took a breath, ready to utter the phrase to dispel the pocket dimension.

"Wait." I held up a briar-knit hand. The assassin cocked his head quizzically.

Ah, shit. Here it comes.

It took me forever to find the words to say it. "Look, before we wrap up here, I have some things I'd like to say." And it'd be the first time I said something like it in my life.

I started playing with the hemwork of my robes. Amber light flickered in my eyes. It was all I could do not to break eye contact with him. "I just want to say... And I know that it doesn't mean much now, perhaps, but..." Out with it already, you idiot. "I'm sorry."

Heat rose in my neck and face as I continued, my words tumbling over one another as they spilled out from my mouth. "For all the trouble I caused. For your imprisonment and torture. For all the knives I jammed into your back. For everything."

If he had any reaction, I couldn't read it in his face. "I know you said you can't run from this one, but... Take it from someone who's a bit of an expert in running away from things. You can escape. You can survive this. I can help you. I can give you a place to hide. Somewhere to let go of everything." I produced the vial of Amari's uncorrupted soul and the scroll with the directions to the First Sanctum. "Somewhere where these have no worth to you, somewhere you can make your peace with the world and perhaps find a bit of happiness."

I slid the items back into my pockets. "I've made mine. These past few months, I've realized that the world... It doesn't need people like us. It actively works against us. It will put us six feet under and continue on as if nothing happened in the first place. I know that you want to be an agent of change, to free everyone from their worldly shackles, but..." I let the sentence die with a shrug.

"Sometimes what you feel would be best for the world, for mankind, would only damn them further." Speaking form experience there.

The light of my eyes flickered slightly. "Just something to think about."

[Lye]

Lye heard her confession with an expressionless face. Not cold, nor condescending, but placid. He listened. He heard every word and not just the information present, but feeling behind it. As the briarheart finished, he looked toward the floorboards and nodded with a smirk. When he looked up, Madison saw a genuine smile.

"Accepted," he stated. "But you did nothing wrong. You did what you felt the world-- what you needed. That's my message. That's my purpose."

The smile faded.

"But there's no running this time. I've had my bliss. I paid upfront. The people I've wronged won't stop if I vanish to the countryside. No, people need to fight for what they think is right and either die for it, or live long enough to see it through. I'll fight to the end, Madison, but I know my limits. I am, after-all, just a man."

Lye snapped his fingers. The ambiance of the tavern rushed into existence like a tidal wave. Stagnant air revitalized itself with the fragrance of sex, booze, and food. Lye peeled himself from the dark alley, and made way for main floor. The blood from his wound trailed to his leg and left macabre treads in his wake.

"If they damn themselves," he spoke with his back to her. "Then they'll deserve it."

When he arrived to the main floor, he noticed Amari coyly eyeing the dark haired patron at the bar. The interest in him transcended the girl's usual behavior. If she wanted him dead, he'd be dead. If she wanted information, she'd take it. No, this looked more like pining. Someone of past import perhaps? Or... Was it the leader of the Brotherhood of Castigars?

The assassin followed her gaze to the slouched man at the bar. This one? A threat? The one she cared for? Lye shook his head. The man looked lost, drowned in failure. Lye felt a degree of pity for him, especially at the sight of a woman trying to pry him free from his drink. The derogatory slurs he spoke to her, barely made it over the roar of the others. The assassin scoffed and washed himself of the sight.

"Ama-- Scarlet," Lye caught himself. "It is time to leave."