[SS Tavern] Life in the city (Open)

[Dervish]

Focused on studying the Zith, Dervish hadn't noticed Cassandra 'till the tray hit the back of his head. He reached instinctively to the back of his head, and looked behind him to see the perpetrator. Suddenly, he smiled at her. "Is this going to be a theme you're going to run every time I come here? Perhaps I should start wearing a helmet?" He remembered last time she'd thrown a tray in his face - That had been an interesting evening. He was not mad, though. Her fingertips were cool and her belly soft, and for a moment he was lost in thoughts of what she would feel like in other accomodations. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she asked what he'd have, just in time to hear the Zith speak something in a tongue that he didn't understand. It was clearly directed at him, though. "Sorry. I do not speak Zith, I'm only halfblood and was orphaned at birth. My name is Dervish." He said while looking at the Zith, attempting to look honest. He didn't smile, but rather had a serious yet also far from hostile expression. He'd never met a fullblood before, and he wouldn't offend her if he could avoid it. Turning his head to the barmaid - Who's name he believed to be .. Cassandra? He smiled politely, ignoring the fact that she inadvertedly had just learned a secret of his:""I'd like one Sliver.. Cassandra. Oh, and I think we'll manage, friendly or not." He smiled at her teasingly, wondering to himself whether she disliked him or was indifferent to his existence in her tavern. The smelly patron had a long explanation of something important and intelligent; which Dervish only listened to with half an ear. OOCThat's too bad, you write such excellent posts

[Irriari]

Irriari watched the barmaid take her coin, display some sort of half curtsy and run into the another person who had bravely stepped into the tavern. Her tray collided with the the back of his head and seconds after she was showering the man with apologies. It was nice to see that the girl was not so rude to every patron she met, though Irriari doubted she would have much business if she acted that way.

The girl at her left continued speaking and she was relieved that she wouldn't have to shoot or poison anyone for such a silly incident. What would her colony think of her as a guard? The job wouldn't be easy, she was sure, but it would be something. In Ravok Irriari knew that she was no longer the predator that she had been in her colony. Humans would run from her here, but the guards would not. They would be better allies than foes, and she could only imagine what it would be like to have the power they wielded at her disposal. But this Rhysol person. Who were they?

“The Ebonstryfe, they are touched by Rhysol, you say. Who is Rhysol? A king? Also, who are you, and what is it that you do? I am Irriari, a warrior from my den in the Sea of Grass.”

She decided it would be foolish to tell the girl about her interests in poisons, at least for now. Some didn't take too kindly to such hobbies as Irriari had learned at the last tavern she had visited and subsequently had been thrown out of.

The other human addressed her, and she was saddened that he did not speak her native tongue, but at least her assumptions were correct. He was a half blood. Irriari felt sorry for him, and wished he would be able to feel the marvelous thermals of the sky as he rode the winds, but such genetics did not seem to favor half breeds. She wondered how similar he was in other aspects. Did his rage run as deep as hers?

“So, Dervish, why do you cut your claws? Are you ashamed of them, or is it out of survival? I assure you that they can be wonderful weapons.”

[Reaver]

OOCCassandra's out, so I'll post here... I guess. If she had one more post to make, they would probably ignore one another anyway. XD

Reaver did what she could to keep from bursting into laughter. Her smile hidden with the mask, and her lack of need to breath both aiding. She did, however lean to the side, as if falling from a sickly bent. After half a chime, she righted herself and continued. "Aren't you a lucky one. I'm quite a fan of Rhysol, let me introduce you. Rhysol is the god of evil, chaos, betrayal, and so much more. The most powerful god in the world, and probably several others. Rhysol is the lead reason that the world is in the mess it is, and I'm thankful to be right here in the heart of his power." Reaver stood, and made a gracious bow, right and proper. The cape almost seamed to flow about her, hiding everything but the mask. "My name is Reaver, and I'm a doctor in my free time. One of many of his followers, though in true nature more then they." Reaver rose from her bow, and set the cloak back in place. She looked around the room, reaffirming the number of guests. "I have no work today, as far as I can see. They decided not to fight you after all. If you ever find yourself in need, feel free to find me. A warrior could always use a friend... Especially here." Reaver sat back down, once again setting her plated boots onto the table. She continued to ignore her water and the stolen drink. She listened intently to the conversation between the Zith and the other.

OOCI think that end's Reaver's random lecturing for a while. He might converse normally for a bit.

[Cassandra Coven]

Dervish's presence relieved Cassandra, the man's familiar face serving to offset the strangeness of his tablemates. With a flirtatious wink, she smiled at him before going back to the bar to pull a draft from the keg of Sliver, filling the mug to the brim. She returned mere moments later, setting down a drinking vessel as well as a complementary bowl of nuts before Dervish. "Here's your order!" she said with another wink. While waiting for the man to hand over his coin for payment, the dark-haired woman noted that the woman with the fetid smell had plucked a half empty mug from the nearby table she had meant to clean before any of them had arrived. Scavenger, Cassandra thought as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. She had no idea how the other two could bear the stench reeking off the creature. Presently, she took the coin from Dervish, whispering to him in a sultry tone to wave her over if he needed anything else. With a last, teasing touch on the man's shoulder, the barmaid left to clear up the table from where the smelly woman had taken a drink from. She avoided the gaze of the Zith as she went about her work, not wanting to further attract the attention of that one.

[Dervish]

Dervish looked at the third person at the table speaking of Rhysol and the power of fear. She reeked of Ravok River and moldy decay, yet spoke with a cold intelligence that didn't match her mildly speaking odd appearance. As she finished speaking and the nameless Zith asked him her question, he thought for a moment before answering. "Both. They're inconvenient with gloves and daggers, they don't grow to neither the strength or length of your fullblood weapons, and they draw attention and disike; which I manage to get enough of without having claws." Dervish smiled genuinely while looking at her. She would most certainly be able to relate to that feeling, at least to some extent. Dervish saw Cassandra returning with his sliver and the ever present sway of her hips. Even with the knowledge of her allure being meant to earn his mizas it didn't change anything, he still handed her an extra two silver rimmed with the golden as a tip. He returned her sultry comment with a small knowing smile, and took a drink of the Sliver as she moved away. Looking at the Zith he turned serious again, with a polite and open look. "Will you tell me your name, or are such things kept secret from strangers?" He still wanted to know more about his other side. He'd never actually met a Zith, and he felt a curiosity that needed to be satisfied. She was so different, but the manner in which she spoke and acted had a simplicity and an almost primal feel that he was drawn to. Leaning on the table he took another small sip of his drink, yet suddenly looked over at the third patron of the table with an annoyed glare. Her putrid smell had ruined even the strong taste of his Silver Sliver. "Why do you reek of dead things and decay, woman? What are you?" The question was rude and straightforward, just as the annoyed look he gave her. She smelled, and was quite abit of an annoyance in the current situation.

[Irriari]

Irriari nodded and listened intently to the girl as she lectured on passionately about Rhysol. Few gods had been mentioned in the colony aside from a handful that the captured slaves worshiped. Such traditions kept the workers complacent and happy, so they were allowed to worship their gods whenever it pleased them, as long as it did not interfere with their work. Irriari simply believed in staying alive. While it was a laughable goal to some, it had gotten her this far. She admitted to herself that she missed all that she had left behind in the colony, but it was enough for now. If they were truly in the heart of this gods power as Reaver claimed, then she would have to learn more about Rhysol soon. Staying alive required that she remained knowledgeable of threats and enemies in this new city, and surely a god could top either list with ease, though she hoped he would not.

“You're a doctor? Well, I'm glad to have met you, Reaver, and I wanted to thank you for sharing your knowledge. I know that some find my presence less than welcoming here, but you have been accommodating.”

Irriari smiled before she continued speaking

“Maybe one day we can talk about your trade together. I'm quite interested in it.”

Irriari turned her attention back to Dervish after he took the drink and food from the barmaid. He paused before answering her question and Irriari wondered whether he simply did not know what to say, or whether he was going to attempt to lie in an effort to please her. When he finally responded she doubted he was lying, as few would openly admit to being ashamed of their race to their own kin. He was honest and she respected that. Such things were hard to find in the human world, and the word games they tossed around fit badly with her own style of communication.

“I am Irriari. I'm glad you told me how you felt, though I know not why you would be ashamed. Our race is full of fierce warriors and fighters. I can understand not wanting to be different from the humans here, however. From what I have seen they do not tolerate other races well. Sometime, you should embrace your claws. If you were ever in a situation without your dagger, they could very well become a lifesaving asset.”

Irriari tried to hide her happiness at finding both someone who would talk to her openly as well as someone who shared the blood of her race. She looked down at her claws and busied herself with flaking away the remaining traces of a barely potent poison and watched as the flakes floated slowly to the floor.

Dervish addressed Reaver and once again, she was happily surprised at his direct manner of speaking. However, she did not know if the doctor would react so positively to the insulting question. The smell had not bothered her yet, and she hardly noticed it until Dervish mentioned it aloud. The halfbreed must have not ever truly smelled death on a battlefield before. The odor that Reaver had was not entirely pleasant, but it was easy to overlook.

She eyed them both calmly while she stretched her arms behind the wooden chair and awaited Reaver's response.

[Reaver]

Reaver regarded the Zith's words, nodding as she seamed to come to her senses. Perhaps she won't die so quickly. I suppose I missed a chance at dissecting a Zith. Reaver thought to herself. "As far as talking trades, I'm willing any time. Hopefully we'll trade info on that." With that line, Reaver almost shifted her seat, but recalled another question directed twords her. She shifted in her seat to better face Dervish. Her arms folded, though they'd unfold and wave about a bit as she spoke, as if trying to add eloquence to the conversation. Her eyes wouldn't stray from Dervish, however, a cold locked stare. "Your hostility is hardly just deserved. I suppose there's a chance you've picked up on my poor reputation, but it hardly matters. I'm a doctor, as I've said. I never stated I was a profitable one. If you must know, I've said it before. I'm Reaver." Knowing he wouldn't like the answer, she shrugged and stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "And what is it you do, Sir. Asking a name without providing one, demon blood, mention of weapons, as far as I can tell a warrior, predator as well." Her glare vanished with that line, as if not interested in the answer. She walked over to the table she stole the drink from, and sat down there. She continued as if they were right in front of her. "Neither of you are keen on secrets, I suppose, so Reaver is what you get." I suppose a secret is more fun then a lie any day.

[Cassandra Coven]

OOCIt seems Reaver's last action has forced me to do another reply. I must say, for a very old Nuit, he certainly has some odd and very human mannerisms. Cassandra, after setting the used plates and mugs on her empty tray, was quietly wiping clean the table, not minding the recent eclectic bunch she had just served in the table opposite, and was just plain humming to herself, when the woman who reeked of the lake pulled out a chair she had just tucked under the table she was cleaning and sat down, acting as if she was invisible. A slight frown creased the dark-haired barmaid's brow, a sign of her budding irritation. "Madam!" she said in protest. When she spoke again, her tone was like that of a mother lecturing a child. "Please, if you are with them, take your seat on that table. If you must occupy this table - which we, the establishment, would prefer to be occupied by other patrons rather than you polluting it with your... odor - then I must insist that you order something more expensive that plain water." Cassandra crossed her arms. "A tip would be appreciated as well, if you would like what you order next to not be something drained out of the bartender's bladder." She could never be effective at intimidating someone, her voice not carrying the power behind it to cow anyone, but her posture and expression certainly bespoke that she meant every word that she had said.

[Dervish]

It was interesting, he'd never really thought about his nails like a blessing in that way. Too often he'd been hit, screamed or stared at because of their length and appearance in his youth. He'd grown accustomed to the idea of them being a curse rather than anything else - But perhaps she was right and they were in fact a boon that he was misusing. He looked at his hand and the cut nails thoughtfully, perhaps he'd try it out sometime. If it came to suit the occasion - It could also alienate people which was already too easy to do. Suddenly, the reeking hag turned towards him; a dead stare beneath her eerie helmet. Yuck, she was annoying, whining as if he'd assaulted her or the like. Reputation? What reputation? He'd never heard of or seen her before, but perhaps she was known by people around town as a doctor. Or something else. He returned her cold vengeful stare with a blatantly uninterested one. He had no patience for all her outbursts, and if she didn't intend to answer his question then it didn't matter. The last part was strange though... "I didn't ask your name. I already told my half-sister - if I may be so bold - my name, perhaps you weren't listening. I'm ... A common stre-- She'd suddenly left the table abruptly. He sighed, feeling abit of his everyday anger return, yet he refused to follow it through. He was still rather enjoying himself. As he turned back to Irriari, he saw Cassandra swiftly approach the stranger and order her back to their table... He grinned a bitter smile; so now they were forced to endure that crazy bird. Looking up at the Zith, he raised his glass and took a slightly larger drink. "What brings you to the so-called civilized world? Curiosity, or are you hunting something?" He still leaned with an elbow and his lower arm on the table, with the hint of a friendly smile - and slightly sharpened teeth. This was a good chance to learn, both something of others and himself.

[Irriari]

Irriari watched the conversation between Dervish and Reaver passively. While she could not understand the distaste towards the female doctor, she also knew that interfering would only cause more problems. Reaver moved towards another table to look at them both as she spoke before the barmaid, who had been attending to the table, intercepted her.

Irriari snarled in disgust and anger as she heard the barmaids snippy tone. She responded aloud, to no one in particular after she glanced around the tavern.

“Yes, there are so many patrons here now, after most of them have left. Why, maybe we should all huddle in a corner together. That would be fun.”

She paused for a moment, looking from Dervish to Reaver and then back towards the barmaid

“Or we could drop it, and finish our conversations without being at each others throats.”

It was hardly an option, given the current environment of the room, but Irriari did not want to bring down the wrath of the guards and tavern owner for attacking her new acquaintances. She looked at Dervish and frowned at the question. Sevrai's death had brought her here, but that was not a weakness she wanted to divulge to near strangers.

“I came here because I wanted to find an adventure, and I haven't been disappointed. Even the taverns are filled with anger and intrigue.”