PM to join [Rearing Stallion] Making Your Acquaintance (Caran)

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, 43rd of Winter, 512 AV Orion had once again returned to The Rearing Stallion. A place as familiar with he as he was with it. He'd been greeted friendly enough as it was known that he was good for his coin, and he was generous with those mizas when he was seeking companionship for the evening. The blue eyed doctor had a bit of a reputation indeed, but there wasn't enough negative about it to stop him from doing, well, anything. Orion was located at his usual spot at the bar, slowly nursing a mug of ale as he quietly observed the various patrons. It was busy, as was expected. The day had turned to evening as Syna gave way to Leth. Weary workers returning from their shops and various places of employment rolled in at a decent pace, filling the tavern with those of varying races, status, age, and gender. Most of those meant little to Orion. While age could be a factor, the gender was really his focus. Eyes that had honed the art of scanning busy taverns over time wouldn't let him down tonight, or so he hoped. "Another mug, if you will," he asked the bartender, laying down the coin. "Sure thing, Orion. How goes your evening?" The older man took the copper from the bar top, fetching the physician another drink. "Not too bad, friend, though I wonder if it's about to get better." With Orion spending nearly every evening scoping this locale, he was painstakingly aware of those who weren't regulars. As a woman of unknown origins entered, the blue eyed man took notice, but made no move to greet her. Maybe she was here with someone, or maybe she was looking for someone. Slow playing was the name of the game.

[Caran Daralis]

Three days had passed since she'd entered through the main gates of Syliras. Three days, and she hadn't found a single prospect; not one. Although this wasn't unusual- the scarred woman was used to going weeks, sometimes months, without work- something about this city unsettled her. Perhaps it was the constant watch of the knights, or perhaps the high walls that kept whatever horrors that lurked beyond at bay. Whatever the case, her chances for finding a job appeared bleak at best, nonexistent at worst. Something will turn up eventually. Staring up at the ceiling of her rented room on her small bed, she came to a quick conclusion-maybe I've just been looking in all the wrong places.

After pulling on her boots, she hesitated at the door to her small room, feeling as if she were forgetting something. Heading back to where she'd dumped her pack, she tugged out her small dagger and sheathed it at her side before continuing on her way.

Word of mouth, though oftentimes inaccurate, could turn up the most interesting places, such as the one she found herself standing before. The Rearing Stallion- odd name. Though she'd been hesitant to do so, Caran had inquired as to the local taverns from her fellow travelers and wayward souls at the Traveler's Row. Time and time again, the Rearing Stallion had been brought up. Faced with either spending another evening alone in her room or sniffing out a potential patron, she chose the latter.

She was wary as she entered the tavern; the caravans and other, less scrupulous, employers had tended to avoid taverns and other such meeting places, for fear of delay or fear of detection- they never told her. For a brief moment her hand hovered at her right hip, before she remembered she'd left her blade along with most of her other belongings back at her room. Taking what comfort she could from the small dagger at her side and how the other patrons at the bar ignored her, she made a bee-line for the bar. As she strode over, Caran was aware of someone watching her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

" Do you have any kelp- er, I mean, can I have a mug of ale?" Digging through the pouch at her side, she extracted a coin and placed it on the bar top. The bartender turned away from her and went about filling a mug, and she shook her head. Though a hundred miles or more separated her from Zeltiva, the first thing she thought of was kelp beer. Odd. A knot of nostalgia and homesickness wrestled in the pit of her stomach, the same knot which had been niggling at her since she'd arrived. Shoving it aside, she cast a glance over her shoulder, then to her left and right. No one here looks to be in desperate need of a mercenary...perhaps coming here was a mistake.

Her resolve wavered as she stared into the mug the bartender had slid before her, and she cast another glance around, until she noticed a blue-eyed man sitting not too far from her.

" Fine evening out, isn't it?" she asked, raising her mug in greeting. If she was going to be stuck in Syliras, making a few friends wouldn't hurt her.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion Kelp, huh? Orion had only heard of one place where someone would come to a bar and request that. An outsider indeed. Quite plain, in the doctor's opinion, but that scar, it was intriguing if nothing else. She hadn't been treated by a skilled doctor, or it likely wouldn't have remained so clear. A woman who liked some action, was she? A half smirk spread across his lips. Perhaps she wouldn't be so plain after all. He was bound to find out by the time the evening was through. After a few moments lost in thought, she appeared to take notice of the physician, commenting on the evening. He took a moment to reply. Usually he was the one initiating, so it felt nice to have the tables turn. He took another sip of his mug, then another, then another, before turning to look at the woman seated near him. "Just gots better, wouldn't yous agree." He raised his glass in greeting, flashing his pearly whites at the brown haired woman. It was time for some fun. Today Orion played little game he enjoyed. "The name's Eric. Charmed, missy." If she asked around about this 'Eric', no one would have a clue who he was, and his reputation couldn't beat him to the punch. Or so he had hoped. Nothing was worse than getting in front of ones own self. Annoying. "I take it by your request for kelp, you aren't from Syliras, huh?" He took a slow drink from his mug. He'd run this persona over and over again in his head. Eric Lawrence of Sunberth. No disguises, just acting, just lying. And some godawful accent. No Orion. He'd have to see if she would buy it. "Whaddya think of the place? Stinks, if ya asks me." In all honesty, Orion was numb to the odor of the city, but most travelers had something to say about it, so it was part of his act most of the time. Eric was new for Orion, though, so it would take some work to get it done. oocSo yeah. Work with me on this, or not. However you wish to.

[Caran Daralis]

She nodded her head in reply and gave the blue-eyed man a small smile before taking a tentative sip of her ale. Though not the best she'd tasted, she'd certainly drank much worse. Setting the mug back down, Caran wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Surrounded by the quiet chatter of the tavern and egged on by the alcohol making her head the tiniest bit fuzzy, she relaxed. The place looks safe enough, she tried to reassure herself as she tapped out a random tune on the bar top.

When the man continued to speak to her, and even dropped his name, she was interested. In these types of settings, people tended to mutter some polite greetings before turning back to their drink; not this man.

" Pleasure to meet you, Eric." the murmured conversations around them made it difficult for her to even hear herself speak, so she raised her voice so it could carry over to the blue-eyed man. Caran ran a quick hand through her unruly hair, struggling to keep it from flopping back into her face as she turned to regard him. Sizing him up, she took in his slender frame and beard; truth be told, he wasn't too bad looking, handsome even. Traveling from place to place had left her with little to no time to form relationships, even friendships. Maybe this could be a start.

"Zeltiva," Caran responded, her accent all the more apparent as she continued to speak " I'm from Zeltiva, although I haven't been back in sometime." Taking another swig of her ale, she could feel it start to warm her body. There was something about Eric's accent that sent little alarm-bells off in the back of her head as she tried to place it, and failed. But she ignored that in favor of making conversation. It's probably just the ale, or I've been on my own for far too long. Constantly glancing over her shoulder, wondering when the next attack might be- all this and more would make anyone a little paranoid.

Sitting amongst the quiet drinkers and tired workers searching for a respite from their long day of work, the dagger at her side felt superfluous; there was no danger here, no dagger waiting in the dark to slit her throat. The last remnants of the tension she hadn't realized had remained in her shoulders melted away, and she took another long drink from her her mug.

" Ah, yes, the smell," she smirked, and the muscles felt the tiniest bit atrophied as she did so " not the most pleasant, but I've smelt much worse." The air of Syliras was that of too many bodies crammed into too small a space, but she found herself quickly acclimating to it. " From where do you come from, Eric? I can't seem to place your accent."

[Orion Michaels]

Orion She bought it? She petching bought it? How wonderful. How unexpected. Everything about it was off. The accent...what was it? Orion wasn't sure, he had just found it to be fun. She must not have heard anything of Sunberth or dealt with anyone from there. There was something else, Orion noted. She seemed nervous. Unless you'd done something illegal, there was little to fear in this city. Protection from the dangers of the world, protections from yourself. All courtesy of the proud, powerful, Syliran Knights. "Zeltiva, huh? Neva been theres myself. Where are yas coming from, if nots from there?" Orion was giddy that this seemed to be working, almost more interested in his little ruse than the woman sitting near him. She was allowing him to be able to practice, however, so he closed the distance between them by sliding over a few seats so he was seated next to her. "Much easier to talks this way. I'm sure yous don't mind." He gave her a quick wink before finishing off his mug. "I'm from Sunberth," he lied, motioning for another drink, his eyes darting around. A tell. "Haven't heards much of us, huh? Well, stay here with me and you can have yourself all the accent you want." Orion had slipped out of his accent, if for a moment. The doctor was by no means skilled at this playing, but it wouldn't stop him from trying. "All the drinks too. Pretty crazies, ain't it?" The natural lull of conversation took over as Orion stared into the new alcohol set before him. What was he doing? What was he really trying to accomplish here. The woman was friendly enough. Maybe a little conversation would be okay, and they could see if anything came of it. Eric Lawrence was an interesting man, with interesting stories, and an interesting accent. Who could resist that smile?

[Caran Daralis]

" It's a fine city, if you don't mind kelp beer and the sea.." for a moment, her gray eyes looked past the blue-eyed man before she shook off the encroaching home-sickness. " and the gulls, always circling. But, no- I was in Ravok before journeying here." As if agreeing with herself she gave a small nod of her head before taking another swig of her ale- the mug was almost empty at this point. " Now, that was an interesting city." Thoughts of the city upon a lake drifted in and out of her somewhat fuzzy mind. The scar across her eyebrow gave a throb of phantom pain, the flesh still pink from just recently shedding its scab.

When the man winked at her, she felt her face flush. She chalked it up to the ale, and drank the last dregs of her ale in one gulp. Setting the now empty mug down with a clunk, she gave him a side-long glance, now able to look at him up close. Even from where he'd been sitting before, the first thing she had noticed were his eyes; piercing and bright like a cloudless winter sky. Realizing that she'd been staring, she averted her gaze down to her empty mug.

" Another, please." The bartender whisked the mug away, and she waited patiently for another. Caran blinked when she noticed that her head had begun to droop, and she righted herself with a slight frown.Not one drink down, and already I'm feeling drowsy; it's been a while since I last drank. Her mind shied away from the memories of the last time, and her most recent scar gave another throb, making her wince. When her mug was returned, she murmured her thanks before taking a quick gulp of ale.

" Hm, Sunberth? Funny, that isn't too far from Zeltiva." A memory stirred in the back of her head, as she again tried to place Eric's accent. " I knew a man from Sunberth, a few years ago. A captain of a ship- good man, and good captain as well." Though Captain Jorn did most of his business in Zeltiva, he had spent his childhood and much of his adulthood in Sunberth, and it showed whenever he spoke. The alarm-bells from before rang loud and clear in her head as realization dawned on her; this was no man of Sunberth. " Crazy, indeed..."

Caran was certain now- this Eric , if that was his real name, was a pretender. What reason he had for lying to her, she didn't know. For a moment she considered calling him out, perhaps even starting a fight. No.She clamped down the desire for action with a grim set to her mouth;no, I want to see how this night ends.

" What brings you to Syliras, Eric? You're certainly a long way from Sunberth." Sipping at her ale, she flashed him a quick smile before continuing " Businss, perhaps?"

[Orion Michaels]

Orion "Kelp beer? That sounds disgusting," he said, wrinkling his nose at the thought. That must be unpleasant, odorous, and bitter. "Hows the Syliran ale treatin' yas? Much better, right?" He sipped from his drink as she spoke, his eyes lingering on her face as she did. Eyes grey like an overcast sky, a scar freshly earned. Her face had stories to tell, he was sure. When she looked away in embarrassment, he let out a soft chuckle. "Ain't nothings wrong with lookin'. Yous likes what you see?" He raised his eyebrows quizzically, before downing his own drink and ordering another. "Ravok? Don't know much about there. What's it like?" Once again, the doctor's accent faltered, his recognition of if it much quicker as he attempted to cover it with a coughing fit. "Ack. Ahem. Ales went downs oddly. Excuses me." He turned away to cover the flush that his face took, realizing now that he'd probably blown it. She didn't seem horribly concerned either way, yet that bothered Orion more than if she was really convinced by his horrible accent. What was she after, he wondered. "Yeps. I's been through Zeltiva, but just to resupply, ya sees." It wasn't a lie, for once. He had indeed briefly been through the city along the major road that connected the two domains, but only long enough to get a nice bed and some rest before the caravan he traveled with had departed. No time to really get to know the city. "What brings mes here? Why it's the pretty ladies, like you," he teased, a half smirk creeping across his lips. "Sunberth is alls fighting and crimes. Just needed to gets away," he said, it a falsehood, but one twisted out of truth. Orion had indeed been to Sunberth, but it was to get away from Syliras, rather than what his words spoke. "What about yous? What's is yous here for? Business? Or pleasure." His gaze stalled on her eyes as said the last word every so slightly slower than the rest. Just slightly longer than normal conversation would permit, just long enough for his blue eyes to sing with mischief.

[Caran Daralis]

"Kelp beer is certainly an.. acquired taste." she chuckled, thinking back to the goop she'd see men and women alike downing by the mug. The first time she'd had it, she'd nearly gagged and had ended up spilling most of it on her boots and pants, much to her embarrassment; in front of people who employed her father, no less, although they simply laughed it off.That seems like a life-time ago. Taking another sip, she nodded, saying as she did so " This ale is definitely stronger than kelp beer, I'll give it that."

When he tried to cover up his slip-up with a faked coughing fit, she was now certain; he'd been lying to her the entire evening. For an insane moment, she thinks he's some inept assassin from Ravok, sent to do some gang leader-or-others dirty work. She shakes off the thought in an instant; surely if someone wanted her dead, they'd at the very least send a competent assassin. The thought is just insulting, although it doesn't stop her from smirking the tiniest bit.

" Ah, Ravok was one of the more, ehm, interesting places I've visited." Although her mind flinched away from the blood-splattered memories of her time spent there, full of darkened alleyways and eyes watching her every move. " It's beautiful, but it has a dark underbelly." She unconscionably rubbed at her most recent scar " Yes; beautiful, but deadly."Shaking off the nostalgia that was creeping up in the back of her ale fuzzed mind-nostalgia for that place? Impossible.- she took another sip from her mug in the hopes of keeping those memories at bay. Though it was her life's ambition to see what she could of the world, that was one place she would rather not have to return to...if she could help it.

Head dipping low, she tried to keep a clear head despite the ale she'd imbibed. Warmth, like a wool blanket, draped over her. Her mind drifted to her rented room, and her bed. No, not now. Righting herself, she sat up straighter, purpose returning to her stormy gray eyes.

" Heh, ladies like me, is that it?" Caran, though she didn't have access to a mirror on a daily basis, knew what she looked like; plain at best, scruffy at worst. But this suited her purposes just fine- after all, who would want to hire a mercenary that looked like they belonged to aristocracy? " I'm here mainly for business reasons, although not by choice. Staying in one place for too long makes me..antsy. If you know anyone in search for a hired sword, I'd be most appreciative." A slow, cold smile spread across her face as she turned her eyes on Eric. " Or, I would be, if you hadn't been lying to me. You're as much a man of Sunberth as I am a woman of the Konti Island." Turning in her seat, she looked him over with a critical eye. " So tell me, Eric, what's your real name?"

[Orion Michaels]

Orion "Well, counts me out. I'll takes me a dark ale any days." He accentuated his point by taking a deep charge from his drink. "Why you would drink anything of the sea is beyonds me. How much of thats stuff does it takes to get a buzz? Too much, I bets. Better be free to drinks." He shook his head in disgust just thinking about it. "I can almost taste it." She knew he was faking, there was no doubt. Her expression while he did his fake coughing, it was no good. Again, she said nothing, again she let him continue his little act. He was all in at this point, so there was no sense in backing out now. Eric Lawrence would either succeed, or go down burning. "Doesn't really sounds like the place for me," Orion said, laying on the fake accent even thicker as a means to try and make up for dropping it before, as though that would do anything to convince anyone of his persona. "I heards they worships the god of evil, there. A whole city of thats? Sunberth might be wild, but it ain't nothings like that." Sunberth was violent, but in its own way. It was indiscriminate. It was vicious, but there was no magic, no religion in its actions. Just anarchy, a fear of control, a fear of the law. Very different than Syliras, but similar in some ways. Orion's heart skipped as he saw the wry smile spread across her lips as she spoke. A sell sword looking for work? Syliras wasn't the place for that, but more concerning for him was the way she looked at him, the way she studied him, as though he was one of her marks. When she spoke, however, Orion nearly lost it, his facade crumbling under her accusation. "Nothing gets me going," he started, the accent dropping away entirely, "like a woman who can call me out so plainly. Boldness makes a pretty women even prettier." He took another deep drink to gather himself, flashing her a full grin before continuing. "I'm Orion. Thanks for playing along. I do a little acting on the side, so I like to practice at the tavern sometimes." Another lie, but this one was more believable. She needn't know everything about him yet. She had his real name, that would do for now. "A sell sword, huh? I hate to tell you this, but Syliras isn't the place for that. The Syliran Knights have a bit of a monopoly on the sword swinging business here. I have heard something about a bounty hunter organization. Starsword? Star..Star...Starcleaver! That's what they're called. Maybe that's more up your alley?" He finished his drink and ordered another one, quickly getting another one for the grey eyed woman whether she was ready for it or not. He hadn't given up on a little fun, either way.

[Caran Daralis]

The change from his assumed accent to his true voice was abrupt, but not unexpected. Despite herself she felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction that she had indeed been correct. It was ridiculous to begin with-I can't believe I hadn't noticed it earlier; perhaps I'm getting rusty. Although the last part was a bit more difficult to believe, she could easily chalk it up to the alcohol running it's course through her veins. Five mugs was her limit, and it was fast approaching.

“Orion, it's good to meet you; truly this time." she raised her mug in a gesture of greeting, an amused half-smirk on dancing on her lips. This was not the predatory, cold expression she'd been wearing a few seconds earlier; instead it was amicable, though quickly obscured as she sipped at her ale. Swiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, she suppressed a yawn. “And I'm Caran. Caran Daralis; I've been staying at the Traveler's Row for a few days now." The smile lingered for a moment, although it diminished as the seconds ticked by. It had been a long time since she'd last smiled like this, and had simply gone to a tavern to spend the evening in the company of someone other than herself. At the mention of an apparent lack of desire for hired swords, she cursed quietly.

"That would petching figure- the first city I arrive at is lacking in the need for mercenaries..." Her voice trailed off, frowning deeply at her hands which she had folded on the top of the bar.Just my luck. Somewhere the gods must be laughing at her plight, but she tried to reassure herself silently;there will be other cities, other employers. It's just a dry spell, and surely it will come to pass. Trying to take her mind off of the subject of her line of work, she took another swig of her ale.

"Starcleaver...I will have to look into it." Turning in her chair, she smirked at Orion. The expression was casual, playful even; chances were it was simply the ale going to her head. When the bartender slid a full mug her way, she ignored it for the time being. " I doubt you act for a living; if that were the case you'd be out of the street." Sitting up a little straighter, she gave him an appraiser look. " No, you're no actor. I've already told you my chosen path in life, so what's yours?" Even as she asked, in the back of her head she was turning the name of the bounty hunter organization over in her head;Starcleaver, Starcleaver; these are desperate times indeed when a mercenary turns to bounty hunting. Up to this point, she hadn't taken up any such contracts, opting instead to act as a bodyguard for caravans and ships fearing attack at sea. But those were dark thoughts; now was the time for drinking, which she did with aplomb.