A Knife in the Dark [Nyahna, Damselian]

[Rhuryc]

The Rearing Stallion, Nightfall.
59th Day of Summer

Often Rhuryc found himself sheathed in the silence of the night. The Stallion was always welcoming. Only a few patrons dotted the myriad of tables at such an hour, the moon at its zenith amidst a cloudy sky. Those that remained out were of the less savory variety, what little of their ilk that existed within the walls of Syliras. Still, the patronage was enough to keep the doors of the tavern open. The environment, as it often did, changed with the time. The current air was stiff and quiet, meshed with a forlorn atmosphere the current inhabits were want to keep to themselves, sharing company only in physicality. Even the exchange of glances was seldom. The tender served only alcohol and was involved in the preparations of closing down his shop, adamant on seeking his own bed for the evening. Soon the rabble would be pushed out to their own devices, seeking what they could beneath the guise of darkness.

Rhuryc did his best to ignore most of the usual crowd. Something had kept him at the counter that particular night, an unknown feeling that prevented him from a hasty retreat home. He sat, upright, with one hand on the counter, the other clasped about a half-empty mug of what was a flat drink. He had wrestled with the idea of another round, but it seemed silly to drink so much by himself. His thoughts were all out of line. He mused, strangely, on the situation, his form still and expression stoic. The long, leather coat he wore draped down his back to just above the floor, hiding beneath the folds his usual attire of tunic and beeches, and even more the bastard sword belted to his left hip. The presence of the weapon was more than enough to stay even the most casual of conversation. He was no an unwelcoming presence, though, his blond, semi-cropped hair left in enough disarray to ruin the image of knighthood and the half unkempt beard upon his chin a somewhat charismatic finish to his features.

Perhaps it was his size. Or manner. Whatever it was the man seemed to bask in his own presence, focused as he was on the cup at his front. With a constant tap his free hand rapped on the counter, the sound just audible over the stirring of inhabitants and the wax of the tender's rag on still dirty glasses.

[Damselian]

The silence of the tavern was abruptly broken as the doors slammed wide open, revealing an impressive silhouette in the doorway. A half dozen eyes turned on him, narrowing to scrutinize the newcomer. He was used to that, he always attracted a lot of strange looks. People seemed to find him unsettling, and he often wondered why.. "Oops," the figure mused, a wry grin overtaking his features. The grim white lines on his face were just barely visible beneath his hood. Only his grin was immediately noticeable, a neat row of pristine white teeth gleaming in the gentle torch light of the tavern. The Akalak warrior strode confidently from the doorway to the bar, pulling his hunter green cloak tightly around himself. From the looks of things he was naked above the waist, wearing only his cloak, a pair of loose cloth pants, and sandals with simple, buckling straps. Damselian was unarmed at first glance, though weapons were indeed hidden beneath his wide, flowing cloak. He took a seat beside a stranger, the man known as Rhuryc. Damselian was a very friendly and benevolent man, the type to start a conversation with anyone. He wasn't put off at all by Rhuryc's large sword and disheveled appearance. After all, how could he judge someone else on strangeness or unscrupulousness when he too appeared unusual to the common eye? Dams treated others as he wished to be treated himself, and that did not include judging them based on peculiarities. He clasped a hand loosely on Rhuryc's shoulder, beaming brilliantly at him. "What a fine night for a drink, friend! It's been a long days journey, and one truly does need an ale..." he greeted the man, his eyes and attention wandering toward the end of his sentence. The barkeep held several flagons, passing them down the bar to the patrons around Damselian. The Akalak drew a pair of silver mizas from somewhere beneath his cloak, placing them on the bar in front of him. "A gallon of your finest ale please, barkeep!" he requested, before turning his attention back to his neighbor. "The ale is great here, am I right? I'd hate to waste two mizas on horse piss..." he joked, grinning again. "You look somewhat forlorn, friend. Is something weighing heavily upon your mind tonight, or have you simply come to The Stallion to enjoy a good drink and the environment? I get the feeling that you haven't come here looking for good company, though it may have found you.." Damselian said, smiling jovially at his neighbor.

[Gravon]

Despite having entered the city the day before a good fifteen minutes after his half-brother, Gravon had not yet found him during the rest of the evening within Syliras. As such, the Isurian had retired for the day at the Traveler's Row and began searching the morning after. Still there was no luck in finding him and so the small mountain of a man had decided to roam about the city as an everyone tourist. First the shops, then a bathing, and finally an early dinner. It wasn't until later that night did Gravon catch a glimpse of his blue-skinned sibling entering the local tavern, scoffing at his loud entrance into the Rearing Stallion.

A minute later, the silence of the tavern was not broken when Gravon stepped quietly into the tavern with the doors sliding off of his body as he entered. Only a few eyes glanced over to see who walked in, generally widening at the wide stature of the unique Isurian and looking away to avoid his gaze. Gravon's sharp eyes scanned the room slowly until he found his brother sitting next to a victim of Dams' bright personality, the Akalak's voice booming throughout the lodge, which gave Gravon sense of embarrassment. Damselian might be his brother, but that happy attitude of his can grind his nerves sometimes.

Strolling over to meet him, Gravon sat quietly next to Dam while punching him in the arm as both a greeting and a curse for disappearing yesterday. And unlike him, he displayed his large polearm weapon openly, as it stuck out underneath his cloak while he sat forward. The large shield underneath the cloak, however, made it look like he had a shell.

"Dam, the next time you disappear like some thief in the night, I'm gonna burn down the whole damn village till I find you." Gravon finally said, half-joking. With a sigh, he then ordered a beer and began brooding as usual; predicting a cheery response from the Akalak. "Should have beat that horse as well for breaking a leg, but no--I had to kill it mercifully." He said to himself.

[Nyahna Sasin]

(Apologies for the lateness. Real life snuck up on me all of a sudden.)

The young Dhani had been here for several bells already, bored out of his mind. If he had known that many of this days would be spent like this, he likely would have stayed at the nest. Ugh. Still, something had kept him from retiring for the night, some vain hope that this would not be just another wasted day. Wishes rarely ever came true, but tonight, someone seemed to be making an exception for him.

Sitting at a table in a corner of the inn, Sasin watched curiously as an Akalak and Isurian entered within a minute of each other, and sat at the same table as a human. Something seemed slightly off about the Isurian, however. He was a little too tall, and his features were not quite right.

His interest was piqued, and he was curious to know more. Still, he had no real reason to go to them, except that he felt like it. Still, maybe that was a good enough reason for them. And he was just drunk enough to be a little more daring than usual.

Standing, he walked over to them, stumbling a little. "Excusse me. Do you mind if I ssit here? Company iss alwaysss welcome around here." He realized too late that his accent was slipping through. Still, maybe they wouldn't notice. Or wouldn't care.

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc felt his head hit the counter. Intentionally, perhaps. The loud, robust entrance of the Akalak ruined his semi-meditative reverie and he found himself back within the bounds of reality. How unfortunate. With a grunt, Rhuryc raised his hand once more and brought the flat ale up to his lips, downing the liquid that remained in a singular draft. With the wave of his hand he both produced another few mizas and ordered another drink, thankful for the bitterness of his preferred hops to keep him cognizant. Really, stale ale was the worst and he had just finished off an almost full mug's worth. For his next trick maybe he would pass out. Or kill someone. He almost belted out a laugh at that. No one here was worth the fight, he imagined.

Maybe this friendly fellow was. Rhuryc issued something akin to a grunt when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. If they were anywhere but Syliras he might have just flat out punched the Akalak, his race be damned. Besides, the blue demon appeared to be no taller than himself. A fair fight, perhaps. Or a drunk one. Whatever. Rhuryc was in some strange, befuddled mood and he contemplated how wise it would be to taunt the newfound companion. Before he could speak, though, another creature made himself know. An Insurian from the looks of it, granted, how Rhuryc knew that he had no idea. The fellow said something and once more the young man felt an urge to respond, so he turned his head, mouth opening to issue a few, choice words.

Or not. Another voice, this one somewhat snake like (what the hell?) came from his side. Turning, Rhuryc furrowed his brow and examined the new comer, suddenly gaining the urge to punch all three men in their collective faces. Such hostility, was he mad about something? Angry? No, maybe just a bit too much to drink. On that note Rhuryc extended a hand and accepted another mug, this one held aloft just long enough for him to respond.

"Mind? Why should I? 'V'already got two great new friends here, what's another?" It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or honest.

[Damselian]

"Two mugs as well please, barman." Damselian requested, as the bartender placed a golden pitcher of ale in front of him. The cobalt-skinned Akalak noticed from Rhuryc's grunt, and the slight stiffening of the man's back in response to his touch, that his embrace was not exactly welcome. He allowed it to linger for just a few seconds more, falling away with his brother's arrival. As Gravon punched him in the arm, Dams' hand peeled away from Rhuryc's shoulder and the Akalak turned his body on the barstool to face his brother. Just as Dams' mugs arrived, his brother ordered a drink. He was inclined to cancel the order and offer his brother one of the mugs, but something told him not to. He was in the company of new friends after all, and he could certainly use the mug to extend an olive branch to them. "Hah, shut up you sullen bastard. Sit down and have a drink with me and my new friend here." he responded, grinning from ear to ear at his sibling as he gestured toward Rhuryc behind him. His expression dampened somewhat as a strange voice entered his awareness, provoking him to quirk a brow and look over his shoulder at the newcomer. There was something eerie about the man's voice that he couldn't quite put his finger on yet. There was a tiny voice at the back of his mind that knew, trying in vain to whisper the meaning to him. A much louder voice, one he knew intimately well, warned him to beware. Though only subconsciously aware of the reason, a hand moved slowly to his waist, feeling first for his coinpurse and then for his weapon. He rubbed the smooth links of the steel chain slowly, and felt sufficiently soothed to speak again. Just as the word "Mind?" left Rhuryc's lips, Dams burst out loudly and abruptly, speaking right over him. "Of course not friend, there's plenty of space. You can have a seat right there!" he roared in response, gesturing toward the empty stool on the other side of Rhuryc. The Akalak's deep, booming voice filled the entire tavern, drawing every eye in the room. He had a talent for being absurdly loud and ruckus, something he prided himself on. It was quite possible that Rhuryc was growing even more incensed by the Akalak's disturbing presence now. Even a patron who had been sleeping near the end of the bar was staring at Dams with a look of blatant vexation on his face, glaring at him through tired, mucky brown orbs. "I had planned on giving this mug to my brother, but seeing that he has his own drink now, I think I'll give this one to you!" the Akalak explained to Sasin, leaning onto the bar to look around Rhuryc's form at the man on the other side. He spoke quite loud considering the distance, as though he needed to yell because Rhuryc was sitting between them. He poured some ale from his pitcher into the mug carefully to minimize the foam. As he slid the mug across the bar to Sasin, the foamy head settled to the width of a thumbnail, floating serenely atop the glass of sweet, golden beer. He offered the newcomer a beaming smile and a nod before turning back to pour his own ale. "So!" he began, taking a swig of that blessed beverage. "I don't think we have been formally introduced, gentlemen. The name's Damselian, and this here is my brother Gravon," he continued, turning to face Rhuryc with a welcoming smile. "And your names are?" he concluded, offering a handshake. His fellow bar patrons would find that Dams' grip was unrelentingly firm, yet he made no effort to crush their hands, as his powerful grip implied he could have. He kept strong eye contact with his new friends and presented a bright smile with each handshake. Perhaps obnoxiously boisterous, Dams otherwise gave every appearance of being a thoroughly good natured man.

[Gravon]

Not having even taken a sip of beer did Gravon feel his ears actually twitch at the obnoxious sound of his brother's voice when he greeted him. Plenty of time had gone by while they had journeyed together and the Isurian still could not get use to it. Staring at him with hardened eyes, he eventually calmed his annoyance and let his shoulders slack from the long and uneventful day. The beer would help as well, finally taking a moment to drown half of it in one swig, though he would eventually need something heavier. At the same time, he could sense a similarity in Rhuryc's mood to his own, albeit a little more tipsy. Gravon stayed quiet when the man tried to reply.

Just when he was getting use to Dams' voice and the silence of the few patrons in the tavern, however, Gravon's ears twitched a second time and his cautionary chill wavered across his skin. The voice of another cut through the conversation, the man's accent bringing a greater suspicion to Gravon's already paranoid state of mind. Right on time the Akalak predictably shouted a few more rounds of his friendly banter, of course; proceeding to give Sasin another jug before introducing each other to their new friends. And like any Isurian, Gravon simply nodded and said, "Hello". What was going on in his brother's mind?

The quiet half-breed decided to let his mind drift for a moment, sighing to find some sort of relief. Four men drinking at a bar; what could go wrong?

[Nyahna Sasin]

"Mind? Why should I? 'V'already got two great new friends here, what's another?"

"Of course not friend, there's plenty of space. You can have a seat right there!"

He grinned, revealing teeth that seemed just a tiny bit too sharp. Slipping into the seat next to Rhyurc, he nodded to the human, and shifted slightly, giving the man some space. He didn't seem to happy about this, but really, Sasin didn't that much.

"I had planned on giving this mug to my brother, but seeing that he has his own drink now, I think I'll give this one to you!"

He nodded at the Akalak in thanks. Sipping the ale, he decided to stop before he got even more drunk. He glanced at each of the men in turn. The Akalak seemed uncommonly friendly, but Sasin hadn't missed the way his hand had drifted to his waist, presumably in search of a weapon. The human had a huge sword strapped to his hip, and seemed rather disgruntled with all the company he was getting. A mercenary, perhaps. The Isurian... Truth be told, he had only one before met one. Still, something about him seemed different, slightly familiar. He had never met this man before, but some of his features seemed more like something else. Why, then, were the words "Mint" and "Heist" floating through his mind?

He raised an eyebrow as the Akalak introduced the Isurian as his brother. Perhaps Gravon was half Akalak? He dismissed the idea immediately, remembering that all half akalaks were full akalaks.

He hesitated as Damselian asked his name. He wasn't so drunk that he didn't notice how each man had reacted to his voice. Were he to be identified as Dhani....That could be bad. And yet, he knew better than to lie when not absolutely necessary. These things tended to come back to bite you. It was probably best to give them all clues first, then assure them that he meant no harm.

"Nyahnasasin. You can call me Sasin." He said coolly, watching them for any signs of danger, his right hand on his dagger, body tense, prepared to leap away if needed.

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc felt his head pound. Was the yelling necessary? No. Was the annoying him necessary? No. Was it happening anyway? Of course. The man felt his hand clench into a fist. The only thing on his mind was punching. Lots of punching. Maybe some kicking too, but this was Syliras! No doubt a brawl would call the knights down in a heartbeat and the lot of them would spend the night in a holding cell. If no one died, that is. Instead of enacting his rage on the other patrons Rhuryc poured his frustration into his drink. His new mug was raised in a quick, precise gesture and he liquid poured down his throat in three, mighty gulps. Most of the alcohol was gone within seconds. Some words flew by his head. Names, nicknames, questions, introductions, whatever. A second mug slid past his own hand and he felt the straw dropping onto the proverbial camel's back. Stupid camel.

"None of your business." Rhuryc said in response to Damselian, far too annoyed to care that the boisterous man was an Akalak. He had fought one before. And killed him. He would fight one again. "I'm trying to drink in peace. Please shut up." At least he was civil about it. Rhuryc seemed to harbor no ill will towards either Nyahnasasin or Gravon, but his hostility had surfaced without his intention. His shoulders were tense, eyes narrowed; he was ready to fight, should he find cause to.

Maybe he was just waiting for the man to speak again.

[Damselian]

Damselian could sense his brother's uneasiness, glancing over at him with a cocked brow. It seemed like he was pissing everybody off tonight. Delightful, he thought, laughing inside. He slugged his Isurian kinsman on the shoulder playfully, stirring the pot. The brief glance between the siblings communicated a question, "What's on your mind?" He looked back to the unusual stranger on the other side, as the man stated his name. Though it was told only by a slight narrowing of his eyes, Dams was pondering the name for a moment. Nyanha Sasin? Slowing it down in his mind, he repeated silently "Ne-on..Assa-ssin." Neon assassin? How peculiar. Still, he offered his hand for a firm embrace, smiling cordially to the man. "Great to meet you, Sasin." He was beginning to put it together, slowly. Finally he looked toward Rhuryc, the sour-puss of the group. "What a guy!" he roared, laughing merrily at his bar mate. He was still quite jovial, but something else began to stir in Dams, evidenced by the fearsome intensity of his eyes. It was clear that he was getting under Rhuryc's skin, but he couldn't understand why. He often wondered why Gravon could be so pissy and negative while they were traveling together. The simple truth eluded him, though he was starting to notice more and more frequently that he had a gift for inciting and enraging people. The talent of inspiring others was a blessing, but he had yet learned to harness it and use it constructively. Thusfar he had been primarily gifted at rousing people to anger, with his booming voice and his proclivity toward imposing himself upon them and testing their boundaries. "Why don't you go sulk in the library if you want peace and quiet? We're in a bar, you rotten mutt. What d'you expect?" he quipped in response, still smiling from ear to ear. It may have been very late, but they were sitting nonetheless in a social meeting ground. He could drink at home if he fancied solitude. Seeing that Rhuryc was by no means willing to shake his hand, Dams left hand moved to rest gently on his shoulder. His right hand came out from beneath his cloak empty-handed, gesturing toward Rhuryc in an appeal for peace. "We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but you should loosen up. I'm only being cordial. The next round is on me, friend."