An Audience with the Devil - Samheen 28th GT [open]

[Finley Ward]

It is eveningtide, or it seems to be, and in a semblance of a familiar place we set our scene. The Punt Den, glory of lowlives, thugs and whores, the seediest bar in the seediest part of the seediest city; World's Mouth at eveningtide, and the basement room of the 'Den is as thick with smoke as it is with thieves - which is to say, very thick indeed.

Noisy here, then, harshly drunken voices raised and joyous in their own coarse and jagged way, an eveningtide of relaxation for what must be an ignoble, infamous gang of ruffians. It has been not less than two weeks since Simaldi fell, his eyes cut out and corpse a gory decoration for the steps of the Turcotte building, his blood painting a message all too clear. And Hart, found limbless and floating in the Vedicus, body bloated from three days of watery grave and stinking. Two weeks only, and very much has changed. The rules are different now, and the names that call those rules are new but no less feared. There is a new power now, and in the basement room of the Punt Den, half of the whole holds its raucous gathering.

Some burns ago, a barmaid wandered foolishly into their midst as she was bade, and now the men make rough sport of her, pulling her into their laps and grabbing at her breasts, hands in her skirts and tears in her eyes. There is little she can do, of course - it is more than her job is worth to complain, for the money these men bring is more than she is worth. She is replaceable, something the men seem to realise all too well. And this is their home turf, and she is theirs.

So much for them - in this smoky atmosphere, down the steps to the gloomy basement and behind a makeshift curtain of burlap, only their voices call up to the taproom above, and that unrestrainedly. There seems to be no leader, though some sit on the edges of the pack, watching, laughing rather than playing. And Finley Ward is among this number.

He sits alone, and silently, nursing a glass of whiskey, which sits beside a bottle of whiskey, which is half empty. By his red-rimmed eyes, it's obvious he's had a good deal too much for tonight, but his stillness and the slight, controlled smirk on his pale face indicate he has had practice at holding his booze. There has been too much of it, and it affects him less and less - he feels little more than passing wooziness this eveningtide, though he has been drinking steadily since noon. Finn watches the men paw the barmaid, and does nothing - in their presence, dwarfed by it, and ignored. He makes no move to help her though she weeps and meekly begs; or to join their cruel fun, though she is clearly good sport. He is engaged in drinking, and that occupies his thoughts and hands enough for his amusement. And watching her plight, he feels little much of anything at all. But that is all too common, these days.

Foolish then, to wander into this den of lowborn, thuggish wolves, disturb their drinking? Possibly. But favour lies with them in the underground of the city - at present this rowdy group is where half the power lies. And if one sought such a thing as an audience with the devil, this sorry crowd is where one would begin. Walk into the maw of it, then, and beg your request. You will certainly be answered.

[Faliña]

This wasn't the same place. She could tell the minute she stepped in and realized she was short again. Well, she was always short, being a halfing, but in the other place she didn't feel short, for some reason. She felt tall and graceful there, but here, short and stout, like everywhere else. And the people here were too loud. In the other place, there were always other patrons, but they were... silent. You could hear them, but only if you paid attention. These people were loud, whether you liked it or not. The bar was different, the curtains were gone, and the air was full of smoke and the stench of too much alcohol and too many bodies.

The halflings eyes squinted against a particularly thick cloud of smoke that wafted towards her. Absentmindedly she brushed her hair out of her eyes. No barettes. She looked down. The dress was still there, thank any deity you could name, but it looked different. Soiled somehow. All in all the place gave the halfling a very bad feeling. She turned to leave, only to find the door she assumed she'd entered through gone. Scanning the room, she found no door. No way to escape. The sick feeling that had lodged itself in the pit of the halfling's stomach began to creep up her throat like bile as she realized that she was trapped.

She bit her lip and strode as confidently as she could over to the side of the room farthest from the dense group of people. Something was very wrong here. This place is supposed to be one of peace, of freedom. At least, the other place was. Faliña thought to herself. As she continued to scan the room, still in search of an exit, her eyes fell on the barmaid. Faliña closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the woman's discomfort, and it occured to her that the barmaid was the only other female in the room. "Maybe they won't notice me," she whispered softly, knowing it was far too much to hope for. She had to be here for a reason, and she'd bet her last banner it wasn't so she could be ignored.

[Alustariel Urdil]

"Well" Alustariel said softly in the halfling's ear "I noticed you" she giggled feyley and patted the little halfling on the shoulder. Alu herself had no notion of how long she had been here or indeed how she had arrived here in the first place. The only thing she did know was that she was filled with high spirits. Alu's wore her heavy woollen cloak over her more revealing Kislovani sari, the cloaks hood covered her head but strands of silver hair could still be seen. In one hand she clasped a silver goblet which she sipped every now and again. Her eyes were scanning the room and looking at the other guests. She spotted Finlay, looking rather sullen, but she did not know his face and so did not yet give a second glance.

Instead she turned her attention to this little halfling that had wandered over. "So ... " the words did not seem to come easily as she did not know why she herself was here or what for ... could it have been to meet somebody, was it to investigate the deaths of Simaldi and Hart? Hang on Alu thought Who the hell are Simaldi and Hart?. Why had those names popped into her head?. Clearly she was here to answer some questions for herself.

"So ... my little lady" she said with a beaming smile "You seem a little lost and worried. Have you lost something?" Alu enquired kindly. Her eyes followed Falina's to the trapped barmaid "Unfortunate yes. But best look to your own safety in this place dear, I can see no way to rescue that poor girl safetly. Oh ... where are my manners, I am Alu, Alu Alurl-Urdil. whats your name?"

[Faliña]

Faliña started at the sounds of the stranger's voice in her ear. "I suppose you c-could say I've l-lost something. Although the t-thing would h-have to be me." It occured to the halfling that spilling all her guts right away might not be the best course of action. "You s-see, I'm not exactly sure where I am. And I've no idea why I'm here." The stutter surprised her, it must have been somehow related to the acute choking strangling feeling in her throat. "My name's Faliña. It's nice to m-meet you, Alu." The halfling looked around again, trying not to see the barmaid. "Where are you from, Alu?" She asked, hoping to engage the other lady in some distracting small talk.

[Tainnel Arhideya]

An achadhiel parted from the company at the bar. Well dressed, at least for this place, tall, young - somewhere in his early to mid twenties, and well built he maid the impression of a man quite common to this place. At least he seemed to be comfortable around this kind of atmosphere.
And indeed he was, being useful guaranteed a safe pass through this sort of place. He wasn't the a man easily replaced, as was any man who never needed a weapon. In fact he aways did better unarmed

Lazily he walked over to the company that "caught" the barmaid. Half a grin showed on his face.

" Friends, best rome, wine or whiskey for all of you and all that crap your drinking now is on me tonight, if you let me have her." he nodded at the girl as if she was a usual whore. " And anything else that this places kitchen might have to offer. One's got to celebrate a job well done doesn't he?" and indeed, Tain had just got a good sum for a certain service that no one would ask about.

Tain smiled , showing a row of perfectly white teeth ( not a singe missing, such a rarety for this company).
" Hey!" he turned to the bar tender. " Put them on my tab."

Well it really all went down to making an offer they couldn't reject. And before anyone would actually even think of the possibility, that the girl could be more fun then an unlimited free drink, Tain grabbed the girl firmly by the wrist so that she wouldn't even think of resisting and puled her towards the direction of the kitchens. He probably hurt her, but that didn't matter.

But along the way he was sure to meet eyes with Finley. Tain nodded shortly, making sure that he didn't mind. And if HE didn't mind it was most likely the other's wouldn't . And of course HE knew of the achadhiels real motives. It was hardly possible to keep anything from that man. But as long as HE didn't mind, the others didn't have to know. A soft hart was costly here.
And even if one or two followed they wouldn't be a problem as soon as they got to the back, not just because of the alcohol in their blood.

Tainnel half dragged the barmaid away from the company and rudely pushed the young woman inside shutting the door behind them.

" You idiot!" he hissed at the girl letting go and pushing her away from himself. " I've never seen such foolish behavior. If you want to be a whore, then at least act like one. Otherwise all they will do is rape you and cut your throat once they are done, seen it a hundred times before. I'd rather see you kicked out then dead. So get out of here and go wash dishes in a more suitable place. Don't make me kick you out the back dore!"

Tainnel, then turned away and and carefully listened for any signs of disturbance. He feared he would get caught even though he'd gotten away with such things before, each time he did, he was putting himself at great risk. They had to think he was the same as them, and Tain did a damn good job at keeping the myth. And so far Finley didn't seem to mind and that was what counted.

And Tain never noticed there were other's that shouldn't have ben here that would have noticed...

OOC. Finley, if there is a problem with my post I will change it. But I thought I'd just play along.Thanks.

[Faliña]

Faliña turned to the lady beside her, "Look at that fellow over there, bartering that girl for food and drink. What a..." the halfling hesitated, knowing exactly the word she'd use in halfling, but ignorant of the human equivalent. "... man," she concluded, somewhat lamely. "That didn't have quite the same sting I'd hoped it would have... but you know what I mean, don't you? I just don't know the human word for it," she shook her head. "It never came up in any of my father's books... it's not a polite word." The halfling smiled wryly.

Despite her little jokes, the almost-blonde halfling was feeling less comfortable here than before. A place where a woman was bartered like a cow... not a place for someone even smaller and weaker than an ordinary woman.

[Danomel]

A circle of pale amber. No, not amber, and not a circle. It was a glass, and the liquid inside was amber, with just a few spots of white foam floating on the surface. A smell of something, something familiar. Ale! But there was no memory of how this glass came to be in his hand.

Well, what does one do with a glass of ale. Danomel lifted it to his mouth and took a sip as his eyes examined his surroundings. Not the best ale he had ever had, not even close.

Not the biggest surprise though. This place, this tavern was not one he had frequented before. It was somehow dingier than it should have been. It seemed more an atmospheric effect, rather than anything specific. The somewhat more acrid smell of the blue gray smoke that perpetually hung in the air, a dinginess of the tables and bar that seemed imbedded rather than the results of spills or derbies, an almost desperate bravado and laughter masking empty and hopeless eyes.

Turning form the bar, for that was were he found himself standing, he felt he should know this place. Something almost familiar, like the dark corners of ones mind where one fears to go, or even to look. The darkness of the soul that lives in those dark places everyone has. Something most would deny and hide, and yet others embrace and glorify.

But not everyone had such a surrealistic presence. A few seemed as out of place as Danomel was feeling. The man calling attention to himself dealing with the barmaids dilemma, not out of place, but still set somewhat apart. A woman, Adhiel and not a serving maid. Unusual and definitely out of place. A halfling? Improbable at best.

Moving through the crowd, Danomel approaches the halfing, as she seems to be the biggest incongruence. A slight smile touches his lips, and he finds himself somewhat amused at the rare occurrence of meeting someone who is actually shorter than himself.

Danomel addresses the Halfling and the Adhiel beside her. "Greetings, I am called Danomel. Can you tell me anything about this little slice of paradise we find ourselves in?"

[Langredoc]

The bar seemed to be a place to get a drink Langredoc concluded. Not a nice place, but a place where a person could be anonymous.. Something Langredoc preferred over anything else this night. He felt like something or someone was following him, it was probably just his a bit paranoic nature but still something to take into account.

So he moved into the crowd, ready to vend of uninvited hands from his pockets while scanning the faces for those known to him. If he would see known faces it would mean trouble. Then his former master would have been able to catch up with him, and blades hidden by the night would spill blood on the stones like the drinks spilled on this ground.

A man said "Greetings, I am called Danomel. Can you tell me anything about this little slice of paradise we find ourselves in?". Seemed to be talking towards a small person and a Adhiel.

"Paradise" Langredoc smiled at the thought. It could be the red warriors paradise, if it would be all about fighting...

The only chair against all was his. And he enjoyed some of the pretty faces around.... Langredoc, watched the Adhiel, as Adhiel especially female held a special place in his life.

If the pub wanted to earn money they would come to him so he waited for something to happen, he would be ready for anything, as usual....

[Talanwei Fortisse]

The whiskey burned a hot line down his throat. If his throat could still feel this pain, his mind was the antithesis. It was numb and operated with a detached air from the rest of his body. When it told his hand to move there was a few flickers between the command and the action. No matter. The hand would move and the bottle of whisky would be brought to lips that had become quite acquainted with the liquid flame at some point. Time didn’t matter anymore. It had stopped to matter to the Achadiel far enough in the past to no longer warrant deliberation. The drink offered release, a welcome retreat from the reality that was his life.

The tall frame of the Achadiel some knew as Talanwei was folded brokenly over the bar. His chin rested on his arm and jade eyes shot through with gilded slivers were looked upon the cloudy bottle that held the amber coloured liquid. It was likely that none would recognize him. This was an alien thought to him because he had lived in the Mouth all his life hadn’t he? It was his home and Dominicus was his god...at least that is what his addled brain told him. He wasn’t the pious, honest, Paladin of Illuminatus who was skilled with blade and fierce in his faith. That was another life, a dream perhaps, and instead he was...decidedly less.

Talanwei's hair was discheveled but was not altogether unclean. His dress was such as to not warrant much inspection and was, for the most part, free of grime. The Achadiel's face told a different story, he seemed yahren past his age and as somber as an old, old man. When he pushed himself from the bar, it was because a wave of nausea hit him. Rare, for the amount of spirits he partook in of late ceased making him sick. He had overcompensated in his gesture however and stumbled backward. This was almost into a young halfling woman, an amazingly tall woman for an Adhiel, and a man shorter than himself. Luckily he had escaped collision, for both his sake and Faliña's, who he was closest to running into. Dull eyes would have met their own as he pulled the hair from them. This was an unconscious remnant habit from the dreams he had been having. The ones of...another time.

"Namaste...er, rather...good tide...my...my apologies signore and signoras. I fear...too much...to drink," even as a drunken sod, Talanwei held some semblance of etiquette. The first word that had tumbled from his lips concerned him, it was not in any language he knew...was it? He reached out for a table, a chair, something with which to steady himself. He took a deep breath, the world his eyes beheld wavered ever so slightly. For the life of him the achadiel could not remember where the Dominicus forsaken bathroom was. He felt as if his stomach had settled but he did not want to impose himself on the three people so he would ask.

"Do...do either of you perchance know whereabouts of the bathroom...?" asked Talanwei, his eyes to the ground. The young man did not look a drunkard, did not sound so much a drunkard for his words were not slurred and were in clear common. His skin clear, teeth unmarred by tabacco and such but by the One he was nearly upended by the amount of alcohol...hopefully someone from the kind group before him would oblige him with a gesture at the least.

[Danomel]

Danmomel watched as the Achadhiel approached. Like a few of the others, he did not really look like he belonged, or was somehow out of place. He also found his words troubling.

“I fear that I can offer no answer to your query. For while I feel I should know this place, in truth I have no idea where I am or how I came to be here. But there is something…”

Danomel frowns. “Something strange here. Though I can not fathom its nature…”

Danomel suddenly realizes that he has been staring at the Achadhiel. “Have we met? For some reason you seem familiar.”

[Talanwei Fortisse]

There was no spark of recognition, no lighting of Talanwei’s features to mark a remembrance. This was partly due to the drink and partly his general feeling of disconnectedness. Instead the Achadiel had achieved a shell of balance and looked at Danomel for a few flickers. There was something. Something lurking in the back of his mind that tugged at him. Flashes and pieces of half forgotten memory, or possibly dreams tried to cut through his alcohol riddled thoughts. A group of people smiling, laughing, general merriment but the blasted faces were...blurred was the best word his mind could conjure. His eyes blinked, once, twice and he tilted his head slightly.

"Met? I...I don’t recall...yet I have been having odd dreams of late. You may have come from one of those," as he spoke, Talanwei knew that he was babbling what likely sounded like nonsense to the obviously sober man. There The half adhiel shook his head, taking more care to pull the hair from his face and he gave the man an apologetic look.

"Signore, apologies...the drink makes for a loose tongue," said Talanwei attempting a grin. He cleared his throat and spread his free arm gesturing to the surroundings, "You find yourselves, ladies and gents, in the belly of the Punt Den! Always a place of questionable repute and now a den of thieves and ne’er-do-wells, now that I have my bearings are any of you in need of anything? I have...whiskey to spare. A drink to soothe frayed nerves perhaps?"

Talanwei suddenly remembered that he had not spoken his name. In this life he was not much for manners but giving a name was the merest courtesy he could extend. With fingers he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes seeming to concentrate for a moment.

"A name...a name....ah, you can call me Talanwei, or Tal if you prefer," said the Achadiel as he seemed to recall it all at once and opened his eyes.

[Langredoc]

Langredoc watched the two men talk, and because they where close enough he listened in about what they where saying. So far it made no real sense to him. But the halfbreed that they call Achadiel said that his name was Talanwei... He looked a bit strange to the young warrior, the man felt like he was on a death list. Not so strange because this place everything tasted to death, hate and some kinds of forced sex.

But so far so good, no problems so life was good. He gained a drink from a woman who seemed very able in keeping away from the lose hands of the jerks around her. So he gave her a reassuring smile and a tip. He would hate it it she compared him to those lowlives around here. Although he had dealt with those and worse in the mercenaries camps, but there was discipline or death...

He returned his attention to the two men. The other man looked better to fit in in this pub. He kept his dagger and money in a manner that showed at least knew how to deal with this kind of places and people.

So he waited and watched the scenery enfolding.

[Faliña]

The halfling shook her head mutely at Talanwei's question, but with murmured thanks accepted his offer of whiskey. Every moment she spent in this place, it got a little bit stranger. She was beginning to feel a little less on edge, although that may have been the whiskey she'd begun to drink. None of the men who had approached her and the other lady seemed all that dangerous, at least not to her, but looks could be deceiving, and she'd do well not to get on the wrong side of any of them, she thought. Faliña took another small sip of her drink, and nudged Alu with her elbow. "What do you make of our new companions?" She whispered, her voice barely audible. She wanted the other woman's opinion before she got her head too fixed on whether these newcomers were to be welcomed or feared.

[Alustariel Urdil]

"I am from Kislovan, Falina" Alu said, answering Falina's earlier question "A beautiful place, but I suspect we're rather far from it now" her tone was slightly sad as if longing for her homeland.

She seemed like she was about to speak more of the tropical Adhiel land when Danomel came over to them. She was about to greet the newcomer when yet another stumbled into view, staggering uneasily. An Achadhiel.

Alu stared at Talanwei, though she masked her disgust with a neutral and polite smile. As he staggered over she instinctively flung a hand out to protect Falina whom he almost crashed into, but luckily he managed to right himself just in time. The man was clearly drunk, and though she enjoyed the pleasures of the alcoholic sort often enough herself, she was like many Adhiel in that she did not overindulge - this Achadhiel was different, Alu surmised that Talanwei had inherited a human taste for the stuff. But she held no grudge, to each their own. She nodded to the newcomers who had approached and her smile widened.

"I'm afraid we are as lost as you, Danomel" she said, shrugging her shoulders helplessly "This place has no name that I know of, no reputation I have heard of. But I know the power in this place lies with that mob over there" she pointed over at where Finn and his rucous group were sitting. As she cast her gaze over to the group she noticed Langredoc staring at her, albeit a little appreciatively. She stared pointedly at him for a second then looked away without a care.

Danomel frowned and said 'Something strange here. Though I can not fathom its nature…'

"Strange yes. It is a murderous air that hangs about. Cutthroats aplenty gather here. I do not count myself as one of them, I am Alu Alrul-Urdil" she introduced herself with warm smile to Danomel and Talanwei, a moment later she felt Falina's elbow go into her hip.

What do you make of our new companions the halfling whispered.

It would be very hard for the Adhiel to answer the question incospicuously because of the height difference between her and Falina. So Alu tried to create a cover. She knelt down to the halflings level and clasped her on the shoulder.

"Are you ok" she said, still audible to those around them. She was giving Tal and Danomel the impression that she and Falina were talking about something different - in this place Alu knew she had to be careful who to trust "You almost got trodden on!" Alu's voice then went extremely quiet in words meant only for Falina and Herself. "Stay by me, don't wander far." she whispered protectively "Danomel seems like he's a good sort, the other one, Talanwei, could be too but I think he's hit the ale keg a little too hard tonight" she said with a smile and stood back up. "Poor lass" she said to Danomel as she stood back up, completing her deception to cover for their quiet exchange of words "Almost bowled over she was!"

Alu coughed to clear her throught "So Danomel, if I may be bold and upfront with you for a moment. Do you count yourselves amongst the regular patrons here, or are you feeling a little out of place .... like us"

[Talanwei Fortisse]

Talanwei made a relatively straight line to the bar and the barkeep gave him a remarkably clean glass. Though he was nearly saturated with alcohol, it was with a steady hand that he poured a few fingers of the amber liquid. This was a clean contradiction to most of his motor functions and bespoke something more...something past this hardened shell that had wrapped itself around him. It was such a small thing that likely none took notice of it but he made his way back to Faliña, the only one whom expressed an interest in partaking in his whiskey. He handed the glass to the young woman, carefully, and did not spill it on himself or her.

"There you are signorina! I hope you take my apologies for nearly bowling you over. I promise I will take better care in the future so as to avoid even the close calls," said Talanwei attempting another smile as he spoke to the small Halfling. The Achadiel turned his eyes to Alustariel as she spoke to Danomel, he had not been directly spoken to by the Adhiel. Talanwei wondered idly exactly what in the Nether she was doing here in the Den. An Adhiel? For Dominicus sake...It was then that the Achadiel remembered his own blood and the part of himself that was adhiel. It was a cold bolt of shame and he suddenly felt he needed another drink. Instead he stood fast to hear the human’s response.

[Langredoc]

Langredoc wondered a bit about the fact that those women who looked so out of place, should actually talk here in this place full of lowlives.

The beer, tasted well, especially now it was served with a soft smile from the waitress. And a short exchange of glances between Langredoc and a purse cutter behind the Silver haired lady made sure that the guy kept his hands on the table.

A soft smile played around his lips while he took his knife and asked for a piece of bread. Always handy to have a knife, and a piece of bread gave a right excuse to hold it in your hands. A new swift exchange of glances between the guy's sitting behind the small talking group and Langredoc made it a clear standoff.

Although Langredoc wondered for a few flickers why he would risk a fight in a lousy pub for some ..... women he never had met. O well, one of them was a Adhiel and the "Red Warrior" would appreciate a good fight.

So with his smile still lingering and his eyes playing around the small group, he made his knife shine while it removed a small piece of bread that was quickly eaten.

Always eat when possible....

[Danomel]

Danomel glances around and lowers his voice. “No, I don’t believe I have ever been to this place. I have had the chance in the past to frequent one or two establishments I would have considered less than savory. However, this place sheds a whole new light on the concept.”

Turning his attention towards the Adhiel, Danomel continues. “This would be a new low point for places I have visited. And while I might rationalize the depths to which people can sink, I am having some trouble with the actual reality we are confronted with. May Aurelius guide me through these unfamiliar waters.”

[Alustariel Urdil]

Alustariel nodded as she listened to Danomel as he spoke, for he shared the same predicament as she did, and quite possibly Falina as well. "Then we are alike" she said "In the way that we know not where we are, other than that it is the Punt Inn, but we know enough to see it is not a place we would usually frequent". She set down her goblet, she always heeded Ashtallion's advice to never let one's head go fuzzy with drink, but she still felt a deep regret as she placed it down as she remembered it's tempting taste. She noticed Langredoc looking in her general direction again, but still did not react, save for perhaps a flicker of a glare in his direction, unaware of the purse cutter in the vicinity.

"I'd rather not sit here drinking all night, there a few women and even fewer of them are adhiel. I draw too much attention to myself by doing so" she explained to the others "So, shall we endeavour to find a way out of this tavern, or shall we see what adventures can be found within?" Alu looked down at her short friend, whom she knew was both uncomfortable and potentially unsafe in their current surrounding "Falina?"

[Danomel]

Glancing around the crowded room again, Danomel considers Alustariel’swords. "I am wondering if it would be quit so easy to just leave. There is something about this place, something very disturbing... It is as if... None of us seem to know how we came here."

Casting his glance at Talanwei for a flicker, Danomel frowns in thought. "I am sure I have meet Talanwei here, and somehow I feel his current condition is somewhat excessive, or even exaggerated. As for myself, I almost hate to confess, but something in this place feels uncomfortably natural and familiar. Like some small dark locked away corner of myself, something I refuse to acknowledge the existence of."

[Faliña]

"I have this feeling," Faliña began, "That we are here for some purpose, and I doubt we'll be able to get out, however we may try, until that purpose is complete." She looked at the ground. "Although if all of you are set on trying to get out, I will as well, better to be among a group in a place like this." The halfling took another steadying pull from her drink, and silently thanked some deity or other for her metabolism. She knew how fast she could drink and stay alert, and she'd be willing to bet it was a good peice faster than anyone else in this tavern, a fact that could work to her advantage.

[Finley Ward]

"Enough..." Finn murmured, very softly, to his drink. He had been watching the progress of the gathered few with mild, bleary distain for a few burns now, and it had quickly grown tiresome. Certain things needed to be dealt with, and depressingly enough, it seemed as though that would interfere with his eveningtide's drinking session. More people than he had expected, and so very disrespectful... Not one had even bothered to make formal introductions. "ENOUGH." He repeated, loud enough to carry across the small basement room and silence anyone who still thought to mumble foolishly to his companion. With that, Finn levered himself carefully to his feet, taking his time about it. He was in no great hurry.

Once silence reigned - and it rapidly should among Finley's own men, for in truth the thugs gathered nominally followed him, not through any rank or seniority but rather through a silent consensus. Here was the man who walked in to Caer Doom and out again, simply to fetch someone who had displeased him... and she had disappeared after that, of course. So many people had... disappeared. Once silence reigned, Finley opted to speak, softly so as to force those gathered to honestly listen, and as he did so wandered the room, thoughtfully, and slightly unsteadily. The man had been drinking heavily this eveningtide, as was his wont - though it affected him less and less these days.

"'s there's lots'a you, then... 's interestin'. Didn't expect so much of a turnout. 'm guessin' yer all here fer an audience...? 'Cause otherwise I must question why yer disturbin' our evenin'tide so rudely wiv yer presence, here of all places. Y'must all know that this place is... off-limits unless otherwise noted. But I left meself open fer this..." at the request of another... "...an' now I pay the price, I suppose." He paused, eying Falina rudely with an eyebrow slightly raised.

"So..." He wandered over to a central table, backed by a beam twice as thick as a stout man's girth, and with studied lethargy pulled himself into a seat upon the table, leaned back against the beam and pulled a crumpled rollup from behind his ear. "'f ya came here ta speak wiv me, 'ere's yer chance. Otherwise, 'll hafta ask ya once, nicely, ta leave. Or 'll have these gentlemen ask, an' they ain't quite so nice..." Finn grinned, slyly, the gathered thugs around him murmuring their amused approval of this particular idea. It was true, they seemed to follow him - at least, they listened to what he said, and despite his diminuitive stature, even the largest of them allowed him to speak as if he owned the place.

With that said, he lit the rollup from the stub of a candle nesting in a saucer on the table, and after inhaling deeply, sat back and waited to see what these strangers had to say. He considered himself very generous indeed to even have given them the opportunity to say anything at all.

[Langredoc]

A smile played around Langredoc' s lips when he noticed that the silver haired adhiel lady became aware of his gaze... But he guessed that she would only think of it as every male's interest in a beautifull lady. What was, after all not far beside the truth.

Then that guy rose from his table and even before he spoke a word he knew that there was something to happen. All the lowlife shifted their eyes towards him and what he would do or say. Langredoc concluded softly that this had to be the lord of this smelly realm. The biggest bastard of them all. Maybe someone to be very weary about..

"ENOUGH." the man said, just loud enough and clearly expecting silence... what he surely got. The fact that alcohol seemed to rule his body at this time made him no less dangerous to Langredoc. After all that could be all part of the game.

Listening to what the man said to the small group and especially how his eyes looked at Falina made Langredoc's skin crawl. Maybe the red warrior had send him in for this... who knew.

But if this small group was here to talk with this cutthroat they better watched there back. So he suppressed the urge to speak out and attract attention to himself. But the conclusion was clear, if something would happen he would intervene. So he used the knife to cut a new piece of the bread. For now the bread was a very good excuse hold the knife.

He just wondered what kind of a insane idea would bring two women, both stunning probably in their own way... well the silver haired was, into a place like this. For himself it was easy. This was after all a good hiding spot., but maybe not anymore....thanks Red Warrior....

[Langredoc]

Langredoc sighed, it was all not very active and the rain had stopped. So he decided to move on. After paying his debt to the inn keeper he left the building.

[Finley Ward]

Closed due to lack of response. I'm not THAT scary, am I? :P