Closed A Drink and Burglary (Vince, Zoe)

[Andar]

26th of Spring, 515 AV. Nightfall.

Men clashed tankards of ale together, downing them swiftly with foamy grins, drink all down their jerkins. A pig turned merrily on the hearth spit . Wenches refilled cups and conversed with the patrons. Some of the customers were handsy, and boldly groped the working girls. One such man dared to try lift a buxom lass's skirt. He was promptly escorted out bodily by a thick-necked bouncer, yanked by his hair, and pitched outside onto the soaked cobbles. The smells of pork, cheap alcohol, tobacco smoke, and human sweat mingled together pungently in the packed place.

Andar sat at the bar, taking in the scene, sipping his ale leisurely. He watched a woman play the flute in a corner sectioned off for entertainers. She played a melancholy tune of Olsten the Giant that depicted his bravery before falling to Obal's evil magics. The melody put Andar in a contemplative mood. Normally his gaze would be combing the place for potential marks, or listening for helpful gossip that might be worth something to someone. Instead he found himself just leaning back, enjoying the seedy ambience.

The bard finished her song with a theatrical bow. A fair amount of people clapped. Others provided rowdy whistling and table banging, clamoring "Let's have another!" and "Shyke yeah!" Fewer still marched up to drop a spare copper or two into her bowl of tips. Andar's gaze steadied on her bowl of coins. He wondered how much trouble it would be to pilfer the musician's nightly earnings, absently. Though his heart wasn't really in it.

A broad chested woodcutter traded blows with a fat bellied sailor sometime later. A chair flew and the sailor's face was covered in blood, his nose conspicuously crooked. The brawl came to a halt and both men were shown the door. It was a common sight for men to finish what they started once outside the Pig's Foot. The loser of such a street fight would be lucky to awake with his organs intact, let alone anything left of value.

Such was life in Sunberth.

[Vince Angel]

Vince Angel With a heavy yawn, Vince strolled into the tavern and was immediately greeted with the smell of liquor and cooked pork along with a waft of tobacco smoke every now and then. The Pig's Foot was not exactly a place he liked to spend his time, especially during the evening hours, but he could not help but feel like taking the risk of changing up his schedule just a bit. Wandering the streets of Sunberth at night was just as dangerous as wandering them during the day, if not more, but tonight the tattooed theif was feeling a bit more reckless. He ducked his way around a few of the working girls and squeeze past a few drunkards before finally taking a seat at the bar. After flagging a bartender down, he politely ordered a mug of ale, which was more than a bit unusual for him. Of course, he had experience with drinking before, but it was very rare that he would find the time, considering he spends most of it prowling the streets. With a sigh, he took a sip from the mug, and immediately spit it out. "Um... how old is this?" He asked, a bit of hostility in his voice. "A few seasons. Why do you ask?" The bartender replied. Vince shook his head and set the mug down on the counter. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were trying to kill me. He thought, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He knew better than to complain too much, considering he would just be thrown out anyway. Of course, he also saw no point in complaining over a cup of bad ale, but he could not help but think that they brought out the oldest keg just for him. The other inhabitants of the tavern did not seem to mind. Maybe their tastes were a bit different from his? He sighed and crossed his arms, staring at the cup for a bit longer. They were crazy if they thought he would be paying for it, though.

[Zoe Collins]

The door to the Pig's Foot opened, and Zoe sauntered in, waltzing to a seat at the bar confidently. She could feel multiple pair of eyes on her as she made her way to her seat, and there were even a couple of wolf-whistles but she ignored them all with naught but a passing thought. Most of them were harmless anyway. To those that meant otherwise, she would soon show them the error of their ways with the help of the sharp and wicked curved blade on her hip.

The aroma of roasting pork was mixed alongside the smell of ale, tobacco smoke and the stench of stale sweat and unwashed bodies. It was a typical smell in the tavern, especially in the city of Sunberth, and everyone who lived here eventually got used to it, or not. There were some exceptions.

There always was.

Evening hours was always the part of the day that drew not only the largest crowd, but also the rowdiest group of people. Night in the city was significantly more dangerous than the day, as it allowed the scum and villainy to carry out their illicit activities under the shroud of darkness. Evil deeds were plentiful and committed wantonly, items of all kind were known to have gone missing, and there were plenty of occasions were people themselves disappeared in night, taken out or kidnapped by the many criminals in the city.

Zoe pulled out an empty stool, before taking a seat at the bar. She raised a hand to the barkeeper for a tankard of ale. As the barkeep plonked the tankard heavily onto the counter-top, she carefully placed two coins onto the surface, which he swiftly collected and placed into a dirty pocket. She took a swig of the tankard, feeling the cold ale flow down her throat. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. She then hummed, following the tune of the music at the bard continued performing away at the flute.

She enjoyed the music, and together with her refreshing drink, she was becoming visibly relaxed. As the bard finished with her performance and the music stopped, it seemed like a new one was about to begin. Two large-sized man started having a go with each other, trying to see who could out-punch each other. Unfortunately, the fight was interrupted by an even larger bouncer, and she shook her head, sighing in disappointment. The two men were roughly escorted outside, where they continued their earlier dispute. Zoe had half a way to drag herself along just to check on the victor, but she was too lazy to bother to do so. She had came here to have a good evening after all.

Turning to look around on the either side of her, she noticed two men who looked very different from each other. The man of her left was of medium build with an olive-coloured complexion. His tawny hair stretched down below his shoulders and was braided and tied up into a ponytail with a leather cord. His eyes were an exotic amber that seemed to glow with every glance. He was clad in simple garments, blending in well with the rest of the city's denizens. She thought he looked good. Quite handsome.

The one on her right however, was totally different. His build was more a slim one. His body was heavily tattooed, with almost everypart of his upper body covered in ink. His hair was a dark brown mop that clung around his face, curling at the edges. His eyes were a similar chocolate brown that seemed to convey a feeling of warmness despite his exterior.

Zoe studied both men on either side on her as she sipped her ale.

[Andar]

Yes sirree, it was just another night at the Pig's Foot. Nothing out of the ordinary to mark this night any different from the rest - so far.

He finished his ale with a resounding belch and a positively contented chuckle. He danced 4 copper mizas down his knuckles to puddle onto the greasy wood counter before him. "Another if you would, good sir," he said with a beaming smile to the bartender.

The old bartender's face was a map of wrinkles and scars with a tangle of graying beard curling down into a similarly lined and pouchy neck. He didn't acknowledge Andar's request with so much as a nod, but rather kept that sour look as though he had bitten into a lemon. Everyone called the man, Merv. Though he seldom deemed anyone worthy of more than a passing scowl. He had been the owner of the Pig's Foot for as long as anyone could remember. Andar could never recall a time he had seen a smile touch that withered old face. He had heard Merv grumble and curse often enough about Sunberth "...going to shyke with all these foreigners," followed by a shake of head and a muttered "Ain't right."

Merv slapped his gnarled hand down atop the table, sliding Andar's coins away quickly enough. Returning soon after with a freshly filled tankard. After clearing the frothy top with a few slurps, he chugged a liberal amount more before wiping his mouth and chin clean of drink with the ever accessible shirt sleeve. A warmth tickled his thoughts as he felt a fine buzz coming on. Though the Kelvic thief drank plenty and maybe more than he ought, he prided himself on having the wisdom to know his limits. After all, enjoying a buzz was one thing, getting witlessly intoxicated was quite another - especially in Sunberth.

Andar noticed a tattooed fellow seated a chair down on his right that hadn't been there a minute ago. The man spat out his drink as though he had just been tricked into drinking piss. That wasn't what interested Andar though. The lean guy had the stones to ask Merv - Lord of the grouches himself - how old his ale was! He found himself leaning down the counter toward the man, raising his tankard in salute. "You sir, just made my night!" he said with a wry twist of mouth and a laugh before tipping his tankard back. He let loose a happy sigh. "To be honest though, it's not all that bad. Once you put the first one down, the rest go down without complaint," he said with a friendly smile. He hoped Merv did not sic his hounds upon him for the candid advice. But the man was seated now, that perpetual frown no worse for wear.

Just as he was easing back into his own thoughts, another person sat down to his immediate right. Apparently he wasn't the only one to notice her - a few others had announced her arrival with plenty of fanfare and less than modest appraisal.

His own meticulous gaze noticed more than just her fair hair and cheery green eyes. He took note of a pretty face with distinct cheek bones and a pointed chin. Her tightfitting garb advertised an athletic body she was plainly very fond of and by the sounds of things, she knew that fact all too well. When she looked his way, he appeared to only just notice her and offer a wry smile. "Good Eve, m'lady. Finding everything to your liking?" he asked. Leaving the query hanging there as invitation for further conversation whilst he drank deeply of his ale.

These were certainly some interesting people at the Pig's Foot this night, he thought idly to himself as the bard began to play her flute once again. Farmstead Frolic was the current request. A boisterous nonsensical melody about a maiden dancing with her farm animals. Everyone in the place loved it though. A few couples even began to wheel about, stamping their feet in time to the music as they danced. Andar found himself grinning, giving the contents of his tankard a swirl before finishing it.

Another tankard wouldn't hurt, would it?

[Vince Angel]

Vince Angel Vince tossed the man next to him a side glance as he spoke, and he nodded in understanding. So, maybe the ale was not the best, but it was better than nothing. To be honest, he could not help but feel a bit guilty at his own behavior. Then again, if the ale always tastes this way, then it was strange how the owner even expected this many people to come into the tavern. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that. I'm not a huge drinker anyway, so I guess It's to be expected." He said, swishing the mug about before taking a sip. Only this time, he managed to swallow it rather than spit it out. His face twisted up for a moment before recovering, and he took another sip, this time finding he was able to swallow it much easier than before. "Yeah, you're right. The next few times aren't really as bad." He said, setting his mug down. He looked over to his right at the woman sitting on the other side of the man, and it took him a moment to recognize who she was. "Good evening, Zoe." He said, taking another sip of the ale. "How are you doing? It's been quite some time."