PM to join [Archailist] Attack of the Brigands

[Phaylix Whitevine]

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88 | W I N T E R | 514 AV

Phaylix walks up to the establishment, whistling some tune to a Vanthan fairytale he'd heard some time ago. The Rearing Stallion was slowly approaching on the horizon, the dusk sky shining upon the old carved wood. He'd never really drunk alcohol, Except for the one time he snuck a sip of Grandmother Hyliza's rose and corn whiskey. It burned horribly, and he stayed in his room in the Whitevine hold to hide his fits of coughing from his mother. But, there was never a bad time to start bad habits.

While you're at it, you may as well start smoking Blue Vision like uncle Sorden.

He smirks at the thought. His sailor uncle Sorden smoked like, well, a sailor. HIs uncle was part Svefra, so, they didn't talk that much, due to the unfortunate kidnapping of his Grandfather just some weeks ago. Phaylix sighs, his breath coming from his mouth in a wispy white cloud in front of him. He didn't like thinking of his grandfather, or Svefras, for that matter. A sudden bout of rage bubbled from his stomach, and he wanted to hit something at that moment, crushing their nose with the ring he'd liberated from Gyor, the Contract he'd terminated just the day before.

That reminded him; don't attract too much attention. The Syliran Knights would be on the lookout, at least, for a blonde, green-eyed man. Utilizing his novice Morphing abilities, he'd changed his hair as soon as he stole the Knight's shortsword, and he'd never changed it back from its current slate grey. He'd also changed his eye color once more, rather painfully, to a light green.

The tall Mercenary must've looked strange as he entered the tavern, his hood still around his face, the wind billowing around him. The customers, mostly thugs, courtesans, and addicts, all stared as Phaylix stood in the door, not moving.

You can turn back. It's not too-

"Shut the petching door!" some unknown inhabitant yells, probably next to the hearth.

It was too late. Phaylix turns and shuts the door, cutting off Morwen's beautiful wind and the small din of passing citizens outside. Almost immediately, the noise begins again, men cat-calling the whores, arguments breaking out. Phaylix moves through the crowd with relative ease, all of them preoccupied with the shyke they were doing. He sits directly at the bar, looking at the barkeep with contempt. It was a grisly man with a patch over his left eye and scars taking up more face than skin.

"Umm... A pumpkin ale, if you have it, Phaylix timidly asks. He sits the appropriate coin on the dirty countertop. The keep snatches it up as soon as it touches the counter and reaches for a disgusting glass. He pours a piss orange brew into it and slams it in front of the Vantha.

Phaylix nods as he picks up the glass with a shaky hand and puts it to his awaiting lips. He sips froth. It's certainly pumpkin-y, but definitely not sweet. It's rather disgusting. But, he already paid for it. No need in wasting.

He sips more and more. Morwen, it was going to be a long night.

RingHere's what the ring looks like:

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

"Shyke, don't know how you can take that much." Narick reached out for the mug again but his hand kept slipping around the handle rather than grasping it. After the fourth time or so, he finally got a decent grasp on the thing.. though that was about as far as he got with it. Trying to lift it just ended up tipping half of the ale inside over the lip and down over the table, prompting barks of laughter from Cameron. Tobias only gave a slight smirk.. though, to be fair, his eyes were mostly on Cameron, not that the marginally-older squire seemed to notice through the giddy drunken haze that they'd all sunk into.. barring the squirrel-shaped Pycon of course. If not for thought of what would happen to his body if he even tried consuming the amber.. stuff, though, Archailist would have happily joined in.

"Let's.. let's just say that, ha.. I've got experience." The four of them had gone out on little more than a whim, really; Arch needed some time to unwind from the normal ordeals of squire life; Narick was happy to join in with any festivities. Cameron needed a little more coaxing to drop in considering that none of the girls were really very interested in drinking themselves into next season on one of their few days out from under the ever-scrutinizing eyes of their patron knights, though Tobias apparently needed little at all when he heard that Cameron would be joining them. Archailist had never even met the mage, which became more surprising with the more time they spent together - apparently they shared a lot of interests.

"Oh yeah? How many times have you drunk yourself stupid and passed out half-way back to the dorms then? Eight times, nine? More?" Cameron was looking pretty grumpy as he picked his own half-empty mug and drained it with a few gulps. In the unofficial contest they'd begun, unfortunately the younger Narick was a fair few mugs ahead of the rest. Then again, he could afford it. Being the 'natural-born scout' that the squire often boasted, a few small animals picked up on the patrols around the Bronze Woods and sold off when he got back inside the walls was easy money for him; he'd even bought a few drinks for Cameron and Tobias when the coin went thin.

"Used ta' make bets.. whether I could shoot some targets after a few beers." He shot a cocky grin right for Cameron, though it only got a snort in reply. "We can try one now, y'know. I got me bow.. somewhere. Bet I can still hit a bullseye from good 'unrdred feet, if I tried." Cameron was about to tell the scout exactly where he could shove his bet, though a yell from somewhere near the bar followed by the gust of cold air out of the door brought their attention all around to a new competitor. "Shyke, 'nother lamb."

Tobias finally turned back on Narick with a raised brow. "Uh-huh.. what does that make you then. You ever been out Syliras, eh'? Bet you've never been out in actual dangerous streets before." The table's snickering subsided shortly afterwards, though a few glances kept firing off back towards the new entrant. They couldn't help it, even though their conversations soon moved off to other, more interesting and important things. After all, what kind-of person asked for pumpkin ale?

[Phaylix Whitevine]

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He looks up from his disgusting brew. To his left, just a few seats over, a group laughs. Phaylix attempts to get a look at them, almost positive they were laughing at him. He was in no mood for a fight, nor was he in the health to. Gyor had petched him up pretty badly, cutting him in several places before he slipped "accidentally," hitting his head on a fountain. In fact, Phaylix wasn't even supposed to be out of his apartment, on his mother's rule.

But, if he wanted a drink, by Morwen, he was going to get one.

Phaylix nonchalantly turns his head to the side, peeking at the group. Almost immediately, he snaps his head back, hiding his face in his drink.

They were Squires. They had the sigil of the Syliran Knights on their strange chainmail garb. But wait. Phaylix squints at his pissy drink, shaking his head lightly. Was the alcohol taking effect just after a few gulps? He could've sworn on Morwen...

They were talking to a squirrel.

Chancing another look, Phaylix turns his head up ever so slightly. Yeah, it was] a squirrel. But it was talking. A talking squirrel. A number of possibilities soars through Phaylix's head:

-There was a talking squirrel, some sort of mutant
-It was a Kelvic
-It was a Pycon who took the strange form of a rodent

The moment the first two solidified in his mind, he ruled them out. There weren't any mutants in Mizahar... were there?

Of course not, you idiot.

Then there was the Kelvic option. But, Kelvics couldn't speak whilst in their animal form. So that left the probability it was a little Pycon.

He chances one more look-see. He notices the clay-like skin, the way it moved, the sort or rigidness something made of clay may have. And, the final nail in the coffin, when it opens its mouth to speak, it reveals no mouth. Well, mouth-hole... thing.

Phaylix wasn't the best at biology.

Instead of investigating further, Phaylix ignores the Squires, absolutlely silent, save the sipping of his horrid drink. If he doesn't make too much noise, he'll get no unwanted attention from them. He finishes off the drink, sliding the glass across the counter, asking the keep for something a bit more tame. A regular ale is basically thrown at him. He sips it, savoring the much smoother, richer taste. He's nearly ready to order 2 more, along with a steak.

"Boo." a voice whispers into his ear.

Nearly startled out of his skin, Phaylix swivels his head. Recluse stars at him, the Symenestran Mercenary who'd helped him with Gyor the day prior.

"Umm..." he says, at a loss for words from her unwavering beauty. Then, blinking rapidly, he regains his composure and pats the empty seat to his left, right in between him and the Squires. "C'mon, sit down. How've you been? Can I buy you a drink?" Phaylix stutters out, embarrassed at his social inepty with members of the opposite gender.

Could the night get any stranger?

He'd seen very soon it could and would.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

"Eh, I've been there. Don't be so sour over it." Eventually the Pycon found himself dragged back into conversation. Good thing to, since Tobias was definitely bringing down the kick of the beer. They came here to be relaxed, not talk about all the depressing things that they were fighting. Shyke, if they wanted to talk about that, they could just turn their eyes outside and to the city gates; beyond there, beyond the scope of the Bronze Woods and the Cobalt Mountains even further down the path, across the Wildlands and north-east stood the largest and most deadly threat to all peace and civilization of the world. A season to get there, but considering what it was, it wasn't very far at all.

"Yeah well, you didn't see what I saw." Tobias' face was turning into a slouched grimace the more he talked, though with all the ale he'd gone through, he wasn't backing down.. if anything, becoming more embroiled under the little argument brewing with the little Pycon that stood his ground.. and, unlike the other three, could actually stand straight. "I mean.. it's easy for you, ain't it." That struck somewhere deep in the squirrel. Easy. A word he'd never before had thrown at his face in such an insulting way.

"Nah. 'Course. It's really easy, y'know." His voice was practically dripping with sarcasm - he didn't even realize that his voice was raising as well, prompting a few eyes to turn his way here or there. "Really easy, being five inches tall. Being stepped on. Being made fun of for my height. Not being able to lift heavy weights. Not being able to run fast. Being laughed at, for even the idea that I could become a knight. That I could become anything significant. Yeah." He took a step forwards and Tobias blinked, leaning away just an inch. Even through the drunk haze, there was a spark of recognition in his eyes; he'd messed up. Both palms pressed down on the table to rise and excuse himself, but Arch was still going.

"Not like, in Sunberth, I had to put up with just as much shyke as you. Not like people didn't look at me and think they could have fun kicking me around because I couldn't fight back. Couldn't take me as an easy slave. As a pet. As a toy for their amusement." Tobias was walking around the table to the door, not turning back as he stumbled through and out into the cold open air. "Not like it was hard for me, NO!" Arch was left panting by the end of his little speech, fists clenched tight and pupil-less eyes bulging. Cameron and Narick shared concerned glances but said nothing for several awkward ticks of silence.

Finally, the Pycon broke it. "... Sorry 'bout that." He turned back to the other two but they chuckled awkwardly and shook their heads.

"Nah, it's alright man. We understand."

"Yeh.. hah, not like's the fi-- fi-- first time." Narick was well and truly hammered by now, pretty much leaning on Cameron, much to the elder squire's distaste. Funny how, even though the squirrel was still entirely sober, he'd managed to be the one to cause the biggest problems so far that night. He threw it off as quick as it clung. It's his fault, saying that stuff. His fault for drinking.. not mine. He was about to continue with his apology but Cameron quickly cut the Pycon off, leaving no doubt that he'd managed to ruin the evening for all three of his fellows.

"You know.. I think me and Narick here should go and check on Tobias.. you know, make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble, that stuff." Cameron was quick to awkwardly rise from his seat, hook an arm underneath Narick so that the boy could keep his legs underneath, and usher him out. Arch only managed to make one quick comment before they disappeared out the door as well.

"Mind passing some fresh water down to Xarex while you're there?" Cameron only gave a brief nod before he and the younger scout's slumped body vanished, managing to give a hard bump to one of the tables on the way and spill a drink or two. Though there were a few loud yells, the two were out like a shot and the door practically slammed shut behind them.. leaving Arch sitting on the table of half-finished beers, sighing quietly as he contemplated how petched-up he'd made this night already.

[Phaylix Whitevine]

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"You sure can buy me a drink. I don't have any money." The Symenestra sits to the left, separating the Assassin from the Squires. She doesn't take off her billowing hood, but she does undo some buttons on her cloak.

Good. She's comfortable. Don't screw this up.

"Umm, barkeep. An ale over here. And... steak. 2, please." The keep turns his head and sneers as he pours another ale. He yells to someone in the back to "put a cow on the fire." Such weird slang. Phaylix would have to learns Syliran idioms and the like.

He turns back to a Recluse, who looks at him in mock amazement. "Y'know, I can't eat that steak. My digestive system and the works get all petched."

Phaylix blinks rapidly, attempting to comprehend what she'd just said. He laughs. "Wait, wait. You can't eat? Anything" The simple idea of not being able to eat food was ludicrous. Luckily, she shares his amusement, laughing. He admires her laugh; simple yet light.

"No! I actually can't! I mean, I can dissolve it into goop with my venom and slurp it up. Actually, that's how I eat anything. I usually only eat fruit and the likes, but I've never eaten an actual, cooked steak-

"Really easy, being five inches tall. Being stepped on. Being made fun of for my height. Not being able to lift heavy weights. Not being able to run fast. Being laughed at, for even the idea that I could become a knight. That I could become anything significant. Yeah."

Both Phaylix and Recluse turn, along with half the bar. The squirrel squire has just stood on the table and moves closer to one of his buddies, it's voice filled with emotion.

"Do you think he's okay? Should we... should we do something?"

"No, no! They're Squires! I'm sure the thing can take care of itself," he whispers back to her. The whole tavern, even those who were previously knocked out, stares. But that doesn't seem to affect the Pycon, who continues with his fuming tirade.

"Not like, in Sunberth, I had to put up with just as much shyke as you. Not like people didn't look at me and think they could have fun kicking me around because I couldn't fight back. Couldn't take me as an easy slave. As a pet. As a toy for their amusement. Not like it was hard for me, NO!"

As the squirrel emphasizes the last forceful NO, one of his buddies suddenly takes off, running out the door. There's a momentary intrusion of Morwen's own brand wind, before the door slams shut.

"Morwen, almighty. Well, we shouldn't interfere. And our foods here." Phaylix takes the half burnt steaks and Recluse's brew and turns. Recluse still stares at the Pycon, who's friends had left him with their unfinished drinks, and most likely the tab for the night.

"Look at him, Phaylix. He looks so sad... I'm gonna go and see if I can cheer him up."

The last statement nearly makes Phaylix spill her food and beverage. Go cheer him up?! He sits her stuff down and lightly grabs her arm, knowing how delicate the Symenestran frame was.

But, being stronger than she looks, the amethyst-eyed Assassin pulls out of his grip and sits right next to the petching Squire! Phaylix shields his eyes, silently cursing himself. She was going to get them petching caught.

From his left, he can hear a chair scrape out and her lightly sit in it.

"Hey, I saw what happened out there," she says. "You want some company?"

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Arch was getting ready to leave as well - if he was lucky, he'd still be able to make it back to the squire dormitories and get a good night's rest for tomorrow. Maybe even catch up with the others and apologize for Tobias before the night soured any more. However, before he could hop down from the table, a chair pulled out in front of him and on it sat a slender.. person. To be fair, he didn't often see Symnestra around and about. All he could really compare it to was a very pale human with strange eyes. He didn't even really think Symnestra at all, on a first glance.. more Vantha. At least those were more common walking around than these.

"Hmm? Sure.. if you're offering." With a flick of his tail, the Pycon sat himself back down again on the table near one of the half-empty mugs of ale with a sigh. To be honest, he really didn't know what to say. Not often he had someone just walk up and offer companionship, even if it was greatly appreciated. Made him feel proud, to live in a city that held such nice and considerate people that helped others in their times of dire need. Made him even more proud to protect such a place, knowing that he was doing something for them all.. giving back to a community that deserved so much more than even he could offer.

"Anyway, that stuff wasn't that important. Just some words better left not spoken. Don't have to worry yourself with it." He waved off a paw dismissively and glanced over to the boy that'd come in earlier - only now connecting the dots, considering where the guy'd come from. "I'm sure your friend over there would like some company too." He nodded and finally stood up again, stretching both arms over his head with a long sigh. He shouldn't be hanging around making awkward small-talk with strangers.

"I'm sure you've got other things to do, no need to concern yourself." Finally he stood up again, turned and hopped down from the table. It was a long drop and the squirrel had to bend his knees just to stop his legs from deforming and collapsing entirely under the rest of his weight. At least his tail pressing down behind managed to take some more of the force. A few moments making sure he'd not managed to flatten himself under his own weight and the Pycon was waving farewell already to the Symnestra that he'd barely met. His dog was outside - better to just ride him back to the stables now than in the early bells of the next morning and wake up some stablehands in the process.

Though, while turning on his way back to wave to the helpful woman, his eyes weren't on the door. It abruptly pushed open inside, slamming the squirrel up between it and the nearest leg.. which happened to be someone standing up near the window. He bowled them over in an instant, and the commotion that followed was filled with more petches and shykes than even the Pycon felt comfortable counting.

[Phaylix Whitevine]

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"I'm sure you guys will patch it up. My friends and I always argue, and we always make up." the Symenestra says positively. Phaylix gags under his breath. A major law-breaker, chumming it up with someone who had the authority, not just to jail them, but to have them executed.

Or, at least had the authority to tell on them.

Phaylix takes a peek at the two. The squirrel says one final thing before standing and stretching. He looked uncomfortable, awkward.

Dammit, Recluse. Leave it. Let the squirrel leave...

Then, once more, she speaks. "Oh, you're leaving? Well, at least let me walk you home. I'm sure you could use the company. Phaylix! Phaylix, c'mon, were accompanying our friend home!"

If looks could kill, at that moment, Recluse's thin frame would've been riddled with crossbow bolts. Phaylix glares at her. How could she just sign him up to take a Squire home? They'd get to the dorms and a whole petching platoon would be waiting.

But, he couldn't draw too much attention to himself. And the best way to fly under the radar would be to befriend someone in the force and gain their trust. So, reluctantly, he stands, finishes off the brew he ordered, and walks over to the table, trying his hardest to conceal his face.

"... Are we going?" is all the Vantha could mutter as he stares at the Sumenestran woman and clay-made rodent.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

After the daze of his accidental attack wore off, the Pycon was the first one to get back up to his feet and back off several paces before the man he'd struck could rise again. He'd evidently had a few too many to drink already - he was pretty unsteady as he rose, arms held out for support. Some of the spilled ale pooled on the floor, underneath his feet and nearly made him slip again before he'd gotten up. All around.. nothing but silence, though there were definitely a few eyes watching the situation carefully. No secret that off-duty knights spent some odd days sitting around the Stallion.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." This was pretty bad. He held out both paws as the man wheeled around slowly, revealing a scrawny beard that barely made it down to his neck and framed the sides of his head, leading up to a helmet of short-cut hair showing off a wide forehead. His wide frame pretty much summed up everything else.. potentially chubby, but likely pretty strong given how just nudging the whole table caused it to rattle as the legs scraped across the ground. The higher he got, the more obvious it became that he wasn't happy either - hands curled into fists, jaw locked, veins bulging in his neck..

"What the bloody shyke do you think you're doing, huh?" He took a step forwards and the squirrel took a step back, paws still raised defensively. He really didn't want this to end up in a brawl.. though by the way things looked, there wasn't going to be any other way out of this. Those nearest to the enraged.. gentleman.. were steadily backing off while others moved in closer, shuffling the entire room around steadily.

"Look, it was just an accident. I'll pay for all your drinks again, don't you fret." He didn't have any Miza's with him at the moment but he could pay for everything and extra afterwards, that wouldn't be the problem. "I didn't mean to hit you, I'm sorry, alright. Calm down." He was trying his best to be diplomatic but even from barely five inches off the ground, he swore he could catch the smell of thick ale. Maybe it was just where he stood, the fact he was in a bar.. or the fact that the guy reeked of it. Like, marinated in it.

"Oh yeah? That what it was, huh? An accident? You just accidentally ran straight into my leg? Accidentally punched it? That what you're saying?" Another few steps forward and the Pycon felt the edge of the door against his back, pressing up against his tail and ruling out any chances of an escape. Great. Where's the freaking owner of this place when you need him. It rather shamed Archailist to admit that he'd never met up with the owner of the Stallion.. mostly because there wasn't any need to. He didn't drink, he didn't find much interest in the bar.. though it certainly would have helped now.

"I think you owe me a little more than some spilled ale."

[Phaylix Whitevine]

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Phaylix and Recluse watched as the squirrel stood off the table and began to leave. Recluse gladly followed him, and Phaylix reluctantly followed suit. He didn't want to take the Squire back to his dormitories. The simple act of trying to befriend someone of the Order would be immensely dangerous.

But, almost as soon as they were going to leave, the Pycon ran into a rather overbearing man. Phaylix can almost feel the walls implode as the customers of the tavern sharply intake air. Phaylix heard Recluse gasp as the grisly man began to yell at the small clay person... animal thing. The small Pycon, whose name Phaylix still didn't know, apologized profusely, but to no avail. The man said there was something more owed to him than Mizas.

"Hey! Leave him alone! Pick on someone your own size, you bastard!" Recluse piped up.

Another sharp intake of air from the crowd. The walls suck into themselves a little more.

"What did you say?" the intimidating man said, turning to the thin woman.

"Yeah, you. Leave him alone. Now," she said. She seemed to get taller, which was unnecessary; she was already a head taller than him.

"Oi. Get your girl, boy." the man growled to presumably Phaylix, never relenting eye contact with Recluse.

"Y'know what? Petch you!" she yelled.

There's one more huge intake of air as Recluse took the huge man by the shoulders, and literally threw him out the front door. She immediately followed, pulling a blade from the waistband of her pants.

Shyke. She's going to kill him- we can't have that.

"Hey! Squire! We need to help her!" Phaylix ran after her, not waiting for the squirrel's response.

He couldn't let anyone die tonight.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Things were getting heated, but he could take it. If push came to shove, Arch was pretty sure that he could hold himself up.. if not, well, there was still the position of authority, however transparent it actually was. He'd never expected someone else to actually come to his aid.. no less, the pale person that he barely new or had a decent conversation with. The squirrel was flattered for it, really. Most times, people just guessed that people could stand up for themselves.. or that the knights would get involved, one way or another. Even now, he was pretty sure that he could catch one or two familiar-looking stern faces in the background, pushing their way forwards.

Either way, flattered he may be, there was still no point provoking any more anger and driving them further towards a serious confrontation. As it was, Arch had things under control. Mostly. "It's alright, thanks.. it was just an accident, nobody's done anything wrong here." Apparently his words weren't getting through, but he at least tried with it. The whole thing was just an accident, a misunderstanding.. though the longer they went on, the less likely it seemed that it'd stay that way.

"Just stay calm, please." Then came the shattering. A sudden shove, the twitch of a hand.. and suddenly a blade. Well, that escalated quickly. Before he could try and stop either of them, the door was flung open and both of them shoved out. Crowds were splitting.. some going out to watch boggle-eyed, others pulling back to their seats again, knowing that it wasn't any of their business. Of course, the third variety were the off-duty knights, headed by Kevith himself to sort out the nonsense. Unfortunately a lot of them were being held back by the others gathering at the doorway, struggling to push through and get outside to the fight.

Arch had little trouble squeezing between the stout legs of watchers and out into the open. "HEY!" Small as the Pycon was, he still held himself when it came to a shouting contest, thanks to a surprisingly deep voice. All of which he put to good use when he needed to. "In the name of peace and Sylir, put the blade down and stand back!" He really didn't want to have to turn on the one person that'd defended him when he needed it.. but when he got help from someone, he didn't want them to suddenly turn their back on everything that the squirrel stood for just to get some petty revenge. It wasn't even revenge. One heated argument and suddenly they were pulling out daggers and going straight for the throats.

As soon as the Pycon saw an opening, he dove for the back of the pale woman's knee with a solid punch. He needed to get her down, back her away.. in fact, separate them both before one of them ended up killing the other right there in the street. A tentative position, because he could already hear shouts ringing out from higher up on the walls and around the corners, just off from the Main Gates. Squire or not, the last thing Arch wanted to do was to end up accused of getting involved in a tavern brawl and giving some undeserving innocent a black eye or broken ankle. Neither could he stand idly by while someone got their throat opened, never doing a thing to stop it.