Shadow over Gerelden IC

(This is the IC for my Shadow over Gerelden ORP. Do not post in this thread unless you have been accepted. Questions, comments, or concerns should go in the OOC.)


OOC: The time has come for the world to be tested once more. A new prophecy has been fortold by the Fates. Will you light the fire of revolution, or will YOU throw Gerelden to the shadows?

The world is in a state of darkness. Evil roams free, poverty is widespread among the non-human races, who are shunned by humankind. In the small cities, they are simply ignored. In the wilderness they might as well not exist. In the large cities, however, they are jailed and hung because they are thought of as "monsters." Magic is just as bad, if not worse.

The Dread Lords are coming. Their Agents have already prepped the world for their coming. All the races must unite to push back such a threat, but the Agents have already seperated them, turning the humans into the world power.

The world capital is a large, white marble city by the name of Detrol. Overlooking this city are the snowy mountains, The Peaks of Kel'Nuran. Time has forgotten what they are named for. The remainder of the territory consists of woodland, desert, swamps, marshlands, plains, and any other type of land you can imagine.

The Prophecy as is: In the coming darkness, Few must unite Many, and only they may stop the world from falling. One of the dark ones, from a society well hidden. One who will see through the dark, and fight for what's right. One from the shadows, a wanderer of the world. One from the wild, yet stays in the city. One who hides themself, yet is known by the few.


IC: Zelthuros clambered over rocks in his path, snow falling around him. A black furred wolf with silver eyes followed quietly. He reached the top of the rock path and came upon a flatter area. The snow fell silently around him, making everything seem to be silent in itself. Zelthuros patted the snout of the wolf next to him and moved towards the peak of the largest mountain. They had spent a good week climbing it now. Not many can climb to this height, considering the danger of such a thing and the extreme cold. Speaking of which, Zelthuros did not feel the cold, nor the heat. He was Undead. The wolf was much the same as he, and they shared a sort of "bond". They had died together, and been brought back together. His name was Shadow.

Another few hours of climbing into the night and they finally reached the very highest point of the mountains. (Think Mt. Everest and a half.) Man and wolf walked up to a slight outcropping and glanced down. They were high above the clouds at this spot. The moon was clear in the sky. The two figures bowed their heads to it. The pair had always respected the moon. Zelthuros turned and moved slightly back and took a seat on a rock, wolf sitting beside him. They would wait for morning, then make their way back down. He had always liked it up here. It was too cold and the air too thin for other creatures. They had to go to Detrol to get supplies and another contract.

Grimlock

Grimlock was letting his horse pick his own way along the road they were following, there was no need for speed or the King would have sent a courier on a long legged, long winded traveling horse, instead he picked a heavily armed knight and a huge, powerful warhorse to carry a dispatch, a pair that would carry the message tucked into the chest plate, in a leather envelope, wrapped in an oil cloth to weatherproof it. Grimlock's gaze swept over the countryside, all seemed calm and peaceful, but years of soldiering have proved that nothing is like it seemed. He loved the breeze that invaded his armor, it wasn't cold, it wasn't warm, it was just pleasant and brought with it smells and he knew that Kelt would warn him of impeding danger.

Grimlock reached out and affectionately patted the black horse's neck, he had Kelt ever since he was a young colt, together they grew into quite a pair on the battlefield. They knew eachother's moods and body language like they knew themselves, Kelt was also marked with scores of scars from battles and Grinlock had spent many days and nights at his side, nursing him back to health. Of course a bit of healing magic helped, but Grimlock was very careful to use it as the act itself would have gotten him hanged or if he was lucky banished.

Kelt's ears pricked up and he turned his head towards the left, where the trees was at their thickest, he didn't seem anxious, just curious. Grimlock turned his head to look in the same direction and found that an elf was crouched in the darkest shadow of a group of trees. Grimlock did not see any weapon, but it didn't mean it wasn't there, he nodded a greeting as Kelt continued to carry him further down the road.

"Greetings neighbor"

He had no problem with any of the meta-human races, the only time he did have a problem with them was when they stood on the other side of the battlefield, having learned the art of healing magic from an old mage, he knew how it felt to have to hide away, not really hide what he was, but hide what he could do. Grimhold swept the area more intensely, Kelt seemed at ease, but it never hurt to be completely certain.

"You know Kelt, I know I'm giving you leave to go as you wish, but do you think that you can maybe pick up the pace a bit? I don't want to reach Archtemplate Krellor next year"

Kelt gave a snort, but the pace of his strides did increase, it was faster, but not tiring on the horse

"Thank you Kelt"

It had been a long three weeks of hunting for Jager and he was itching to get paid and sleep in a bed as he led a line of three horses and two mules towards the gates of Detrol. All five animals were rider-less, yet carried a burden of some sort; the three horses each bore a single bundle wrapped in a blanket that was tethered to their saddles while the mules carried several animal pelts and even a whole deer.

As he walked up to the gate, Jager pulled out three sheets of parchment from his tunic, ready to hand them to the guardsmen that were coming to meet him.

“We were beginning to think you weren’t coming back, Jager,” said one of the guards as he got close. “What took so long?”

“Oh, not much really, just a little discovery that added some difficulty,” replied Jager, handing the guard the pieces of parchment, which were unfolded to reveal wanted posters.

“Turns out the bank robber had an affinity for magic. Proved himself to be rather skilled at using it to lead me on a merry chase for nearly a week,” continued Jager as another guard started to check the bundles on the horses, revealing them to be the bodies of three human men, each one with a matching wanted poster. The guard grimaced when he checked the last body, finding a head that was smashed and beaten, but still recognizable.

“Yeah, I was just a little frustrated when I finally caught him. Took him a whole two minutes to die after I slit his throat. Still not entirely sure he’s dead though; might want to chop his head off to be safe. Damn magic users. Can’t trust the lot of ‘em.”

“After the bank robber, finding the murderer and the highwayman wasn’t all that difficult, just took some extra time to catch up. So, now to discuss payment. Posters say fifty gold apiece for the murderer and bank robber and a hundred gold pieces for the highwayman. Add another five hundred gold for the standing bounty on magic users and we come to seven hundred gold pieces in bounty. And since I’m in a good mood, you can have the horses and everything that isn’t human on them for fifty silver pieces.”

“Damn it, Jager,” complained the guard. “You are expensive, but worth it. We’ve got the two hundred ready for you in the guard house, but we weren’t expecting the magic user, so it’ll take a little more time to get the rest of the gold.”

“Fine, I’ll take the two hundred in gold now, along with the silver for the horses, and come back for the other five hundred later,” replied Jager.

A few minutes later and a few hundred gold pieces richer, Jager was walking down the street, still leading the mules, in search of a butcher and a fur trader. And the best part about dealing the guards like he had been for the past few years was that the guards had no idea that Jager wasn’t human. It was a specialty among Jager’s people to be able to hide just about anywhere, be it in the shadow of bushes and trees or right in front of the city guard.

Zelthuros

Zelthuros stood as the sun peaked over the clouds in the distance. Shadow stood with him and they walked over to the outcropping of rock once more. About time for them to leave. Zelthuros glanced down at Shadow.

"Well, are you ready?" he asked in a low voice.

The wolf seemed to smile as they took several steps back from the edge. Zelthuros dug a foot slightly down into the ground, and then the two ran straight at the edge. They jumped over the outcropping, the man pulling a backflip as they fell. They were rapidly approaching the clouds below them. Zelthuros spread out his arms and legs, slowing himself and controlling his fall, wolf doing the same. They broke through the clouds, finally able to see the mass of land that was Gerelden. He had to turn himself to make sure he was heading towards just the right spot.

They had done this several times before, but never on a mountain so high. He did not really even know how long they fell, but did know it when the ground started speeding towards them. He pulled a roll to the left before straightening out and crashing into a deep pool of water, a second form smashing down into the water with him. He hit the bottom of the pool before he swam up to the top, breaking the surface and looking around. A small, empty clearing was around him. He swam towards the edge of the water and pulled himself up onto land. Shadow was already up and shaking himself dry. Speaking of which, Zelthuros stood and moved over to a tree, pulling his concealed gear out of a well hidden spot in the trunk.

He dried himself off and changed into his usual attire: long black robe with the hood up, black gloves, black shoes of course, and a mask to hide the rest of his face. He strapped on his hidden blade gauntlets to the underside of his forearms. (Think Assassin's Creed) The left one was actually rather tricky, considering the lack of flesh. He found a design a hundred years back or so to make it work. He belted on his shortswords and quiver of arrows, picked up his bow, and moved off in a general southern direction towards the capitol city of Detrol. He stepped onto a path and followed it, Shadow right behind him, as always. They walked silently, moving ever closer to Detrol. They passed by a mounted human knight talking to his horse. They made a point to ignore him, and passed by without so much as looking at him.

nexatumi(DragonFang)

Nexatumi that was his name....his real name in a long ago forgotten language used by the dragons themselves. DragonFang is what it translates to in Common the language that most of this 'modern' world communicates with. Fang a creature, a species, all his own has wonders these lands for longer then the current human generation that walks these lands as been around.

It was on a dark cool day in his homelands of a expansive orc race, Fang developed an urge... a pull, to go. Ever since he has never returned and has always been searching...for what he has yet to figure. But the pull has always been with him, and directed him. Its how he ended up outside a quiet Tavern on the outskirts of large human settlement. Perched in a large tree set back off the pathway in his true form Fang watches as a female Elf walks out and into the night. Fang looks on as he starts muttering the illusion spells to conceal his form.

His face slowly starts to change from the green heavily scaled face to a soft white tone and chiseled features of a Anglo Saxon male. His talons withdraw from his hands and feet and slowly start forming into toes and fingers. His transformation half complete he spreads his thick 8ft leather wings and with two flaps propels himself into the air. Landing a few feet in front of the tree he had just left he folds his wings as they seem to shimmer out of existence. His dark black cloak slowly turns into a soft blue tunic and brown trousers any adventurer would sport. His sword he always carries remains as in these times everyone carries one.

Emerging from the trees and onto the path he heads towards the tavern and spots the female elf and watches as the scene unfolds. Staying back from the action Fang smiles, sipping an ale he had made appear, at a seat tucked in the tavern corner.

Zelthuros

Zelthuros stepped through one of the many gates into Detrol without anyone looking at him overly suspicious. Other than him being an unsettling figure in himself, of course, followed by an equally unsettling wolf. He moved through the crowds on his way to the town square. On his way by an unoccupied street, though, he heard a couple of obliviously non-human voices speaking down an alleyway. He stopped and leaned against a wall near the mouth of it.

"Yes, I have heard of a place where we non-humans can gather without hiding." said the first voice.

"In the poor quarter, yes. I have been there many times myself." replied the second.

Zelthuros stepped away form the alley and back into a crowded street. He had to see this for himself. Shadow look up at him, a question in his eyes. Zelthuros patted his snout as they moved toward the poor quarter.

"Yes, they'll let you in. Don't worry about it." he replied in a low voice, ignoring all the funny looks he got.

He spotted a pair of pointy ears enter a building in a well secluded area, and figured he would start there. He stepped through the doorway and into a room with a multitude of non-human races. He patted Shadow's snout again and moved to an unoccupied corner. He took a seat and set his bow against the wall next to him. Shadow layed down at his feet and he placed a coin on the table. There was a fellow in another part of the tavern that had a curious smell to him, and seemed to be rather blurry, shapes morphing from unnatural to a standard human and back. Zelthuros blinked and looked away.

"Well that's odd." he said, looking down at Shadow.

Fang a creature of seclusion sips at his magically summoned ale as the female elf addresses the crowded tavern. Its then he notices a few of the patrons glancing his way eye-balling his illusive form from head to toe. Their eyes flicker from him and back to the female elf trying to draw her attention to what they deem an outcast. His illusion that of a young human seems to be out of place in this tavern of non-humans and misfits. Then it dawns on him what he must do...

Quickly sweeping his arm over the ale in front of him the mug empties itself as he stands, casting odd shadows on the wall behind him. Approaching the bar he signals to one of the waitresses swinging his empty mug before his hidden form. Seating himself a few feet from the ever watchful elf he smiles to her as the waitress fills his drink. Reaching into a small burlap satchel tucked into his waistband he pulls out two shiny gold coins and sets them onto the wooden bar with an oddly hollow thump. The waitress collects the coins testing them in her palm before putting them away into her coin purse.

"Many a thanks kind traveler."

"The thanks be mine. Pardon if I seem rude but might you know who that elf is that sits so watchful behind the bar? A fine species and a fine lady indeed has no place in a tavern of this sort."

The waitress started by the young humans bravado and openness about her employers race takes two steps backwards and nearly trips on Tala's outstretched foot.

"This... this...man..he is asking about you."

Grimlock

This was going to be a long journey for them, but Grimlock didn't mind, it was better to be out here than cooped up in a castle, all the other knights had no problem as they drank, gambled and chased the serving girls. Grimlock was a soldier, he had no time for wasting time and energy, he spent his time training along with the Weapon's Master. Grimlock could feel his hand itching to get to train further on a new method that the Weapon's Master have introduced him to. But first he had an assignment to complete, he sat back easily in the saddle his visor raised.

He started to think, if he could learn healing spells, would he not also be able to learn more? A frown furrowed his brow as he thought, the mage had refused to teach him more, but what if he asked another magic user...one of the meta-humans? Consumed by these thoughts Grimlock and Kelt trotted their way towards their destination, totally ignorant, but not on purpose, of the forces drawing various factions together at Detrol

nexatumi(DragonFang)

Fang spots the obvious discomfort from the female elf as she approaches the bar. Drinking from his mug he catches the eye flicks from a new pair of patrons and back to Fang. The elf's discomfort increases as she eyes the pair and notices their unease in Fangs direction.

They must be magic users.... Fang thinks to himself.

Setting his mug back down onto the bar and greeting the approaching elf with a smile he nods his head meeting her own.

"I am an owner of this establishment." her head canting ever so slightly.

"Well my apologies my lady, I only commented on your beauty and how rare it is to see your kind now a days... at least for me. I'm sure your kind is still all out and about around the world but still..."

His mug still gripped in his hand he takes a long pull and finishes it. Setting it down only briefly he sloppily tries to conceal its empty before lifting it again. With a slight exhale of breath and a few words muttered ever so softly the mug refills its self as he lifts it to his lips. Sipping from it loudly he sets it down on the bar now full to the brim.

"So what is this place? Is it like a hideout? I heard about it from some bum traveler I ran into ages ago....just never been out this way to take a look for myself."

Zelthuros

Zelthuros glanced up at the waitress.

"A tankard of ale, if you would." he said in a low, cold voice.

He watched her walk away and looked down at Shadow, who had his snout on his boots. He glanced back up as the blurry figure of the man walked up to the counter. He also caught the brief glance from the elf behind the bar as she looked at him before moving to talk to the blurry one. He briefly nodded at the barmaid as she placed his drink on the table. He then ignored the tankard sitting on the table in front of him.

He did not drink spirits. They slowed response time, even if by a small fraction. That small fraction can cost lives. He kept an eye on the other tavern patrons as he watched the blur and the elf up at the table. The dark tavern caused shadows to cast over his eyes, giving him an even more unsettling appearance.

"Well my apologies my lady, I only commented on your beauty and how rare it is to see your kind now a days... at least for me. I'm sure your kind is still all out and about around the world but still..."

"Why thank you." one corner of her mouth lifting to smirk. "My kind, hmm?" nearly chuckling. She was still a little wary, as she was with most newcomers, you had to be nowadays. Watch your back, but watch your front. You had to have eyes all around you, lest someone stab you in one side while watching the other. Her head canted more as she tried to recall him entering, but she couldn't. It had to be during the scuffle, because when she came back in that was when she was alerted to him being there. Had he chosen that time to come in, or was it simply coincidence? These thoughts wandered about as she glanced to his mug, not thinking much of it until he tried to cover the top of it. The slightest crease in brow was made as she continued watching, her eyes lifting from what looked to be an at least half empty mug to his face. It was then that she saw his lips subtly moving, the mug lifting to be sipped from. She flicked her gaze between him and his drink until it thumped solidly back on the bar. She saw the level of the ale and blinked slowly, nearly snorting a chuckle. He had conjured his own drink. Very well then.

"So what is this place? Is it like a hideout? I heard about it from some bum traveler I ran into ages ago....just never been out this way to take a look for myself."

"A traveler you say? What did he look like? Where was he headed? He spoke openly of this place?" her brows furrowed as she shot a glance towards the door. "Batten her down boys." A jerk of a nod given to the 'bouncers'. As she nodded, her hair fell over the side of her face that was to Fang. She winked at the large men and waited for them to move towards the door. As they appeared to be doing just that, she glanced back at Fang with a broad smile. The bouncers then stood blocking the exit. Apparently, she had done this before. The sound of wood on wood as chairs scraped the floorboards followed by the shuffle of feet, was loud in the now nearly silent tavern as almost every patron stood, waiting. There were only a few that were confused, not knowing whether to stand or hide. (not including Zel, unless he decides to join in.)

"I would like to hear more." her posture changing to lean on the counter, elbows propped, hands cupping her face. "And you're paying for that drink." She added in a whisper, seeming eerily calm as she awaited his answer, laughing inwardly.

Fang chuckles to himself as the elf commands her bouncers to block the doors and the rest of the tavern patrons stand to await the outcome. Wound a bit tight.. fang thinks to himself. Not even batting an eye at the chain of events that had rapidly unfolded Fang raises his mug to his lips and gulps deeply.

"I have made no threats or gestures which should warrant this but your carefulness is appreciated. The traveler was a wise old man, a man of many talents and he never gave me his name. He was a magic user, an outcast in his society, he saw me for who I was and told me of this tavern. It was here I thought I could be treated normal but I see I have been mistaken."

Fang reaches into the burlap satchel at his waist and pulls out another pair of gold coins.

"I already paid the waitress but your welcome to grab me another mug once I finish the one I have. That is if your not throwing me out."

Zelthuros

Conversation continued in the dark tavern. The shadowy man in the back corner remained silent and unmoving. The beer on his table untouched. Wolf laying quietly at his feet. Longbow leaning against the wall next to him. Had someone been able to pierce the darkness shrouding his eyes, they would see them ever vigil and watching the entire room. It was a Ranger trick he had learned. The art of seeing without being seen.

Zelthuros looked over at the suddenly energetic seeming elf and the blur. Bouncers moved to block the doors and others in the tavern stood to hide or try to run. Zelthuros stood rapidly, Shadow leaping to his feet as well. No sound was made from either of them. His longbow was in his hand, an arrow already knocked to it. Shadow has his fangs bared. The pair were up and combat ready in less than a second. He imediately scanned for the exits he had noted earlier, but found them all blocked off by people.

He turned his gaze to the pair still at the bar, wanting to know what the cause was for this. If they intended to try and stop him from leaving, if he did want to leave, they would regret ever getting in his way. That was a promise. He felt a vague twitch from the graveyard nearby, but shook it off. He didn't need any more problems right now. He kept his attention on the elf and the blur, but noted every movement in the room, including several sets of frightened eyes that looked in his direction.

There were only a few that were confused, not knowing whether to stand or hide..the others were simply standing, waiting for whatever to unfold. As Fang began to drain the mug her gaze averted to the man with the bow and the wolf. Seeing him armed and ready she did laugh out loud, which caused even more eyes to fall on him, and not all of them were scared. Her attention however, turned back on the one at the bar, right before he spoke.

"I have made no threats or gestures which should warrant this but your carefulness is appreciated. The traveler was a wise old man, a man of many talents and he never gave me his name. He was a magic user, an outcast in his society, he saw me for who I was and told me of this tavern. It was here I thought I could be treated normal but I see I have been mistaken."

She said nothing for the moment, quietly watching him retrieve the coins.

"I already paid the waitress but your welcome to grab me another mug once I finish the one I have. That is if your not throwing me out."

She chuckled at his words then flicked her gaze back to the one with the bow. "Put it away, you're fine. I just like to keep people on their toes." With that those emerald eyes would meet those of Fangs, then she winked. She knew he had conjured the drink, but those few words helped: 'he saw me for who I was' and 'I thought I could be treated normal'. The one with the bow didnt really concern her as he reeked of death. He had enough problems she figured. The bouncers moved from the doors but sat nearby as usual, the other patrons slowly going back to their business, some laughing, some irritated, and some indifferent.

"So gracious of you to allow me to serve you..." smirk. "Drop the act and I'll consider it." the tone playfully sarcastic. She then looked over to Zel and waved him over. "You too, on the house. Just this once." those pink tinted, pale caramel lips pulling into a wide grin. "So, boys, what's yer poison?"

Grimlock

Grimlock was aware of the approaching rider even before he could hear him as Kelt's ears have already shifted and from his stride it came apparent that there was another horse. Grimlock watched as the rider came chasing down the road, his long legged horse running with an easy gait. Half a mile from him the rider started to reign in the horse and they came to a stop a few paces away from Grimlock

"Hail sir knight"

"Hail be courier"

"Does thou carry a dispatch for our lord the Archtemplate?"

Grimlock nodded

"Aye that we do"

"My lord have sent me to pick up the dispatch and to hand over to thee a new dispatch to our highness the king"

Grimlock sighed

"Then you will know what to do sir courier"

"Hast though not time, nor sense of thine place?"

"Then come on closer, let me see thy face"

"It harketh not grim nor evil"

"Yeah it looks like a beaver"

The courier blinked

"I beg your pardon?"

Grimlock grinned at the courier and then removed the letter, the courier pulled out a leather bound tube, they exchanged the letters and the courier turned his horse around

"Fare thee well sir knight"

"Ride safely neighbor"

Again the courier looked confused, but Kelt has already turned around and was heading home. Grimlock could hear the courier whipping up his horse as the galloped away

"Next time you see a beat a horse you bite him Kelt"

The horse snorted his agreement

Zelthuros

Zelthuros lowered his bow and replaced the arrow in his quiver. He was rather angered, but did not show it. He calmly strode out past the bouncers and left without another look at anyone inside. He also ignored the elf's offer of hospitality. He did not enjoy being laughed at. He looked around before moving towards the market district. He needed to get his supplies and move on. He cast one last look back at the tavern before stepping around the corner.

Apparently, he wasn't even at home around the outcasts. Let them wander the world for over four hundred years and see how they react to being trapped inside a building against their will. He passed through an alleyway on his way to the general store, and drove his fist through a wall in barely held anger. He stopped and leaned back against the wall. Shadow looked up at his master curiously. He patted the wolf's head and moved on. He saw a troupe of guards pass by the other end of the alleyway. He almost considered telling them where the tavern was.

But he was not that evil. Not yet, anyway. He had his own devices to attend to. Those being wandering, un-living, and Shadow.

Fang face splits into a wide grin as the elf returns to the bar. Sipping at his drink he turns back to face away from the patrons now returning to their seats. The bouncers resume their positions and the exits once again become free. The elf positions herself behind the bar once again and turns to Fang.

"So gracious of you to allow me to serve you..." smirk. "Drop the act and I'll consider it." the tone playfully sarcastic.

She then looked over to Zel and waved him over. "You too, on the house. Just this once." those pink tinted, pale caramel lips pulling into a wide grin.

"So, boys, what's yer poison?"

Zel just turns and walks out the now unrestricted exit apparently offended or embarrassed in some way. Fang shakes his head in wonder and drains the rest of his mug.

"I don't think hes up for the drink but I will take his free one if you don't mind." his lips spread back into a smile. "Always fancied something exotic if you got anything. On another note.... Whats your name if you dont mind me asking? Mine is Ganf, Ganf nogard."

Jager opened the door to the tavern, hooded and cloaked, and weaved his way among the tables and chairs, coming to what seemed an awkward stop just a foot away from the bar. He closed the gap by leaning over and resting his elbows on the counter top, his hooded head hanging slightly as if tired. A long moment later, his head jerked upright, causing his hood to fall away, revealing shoulder length black hair and a black bandana with intricate white stitching on it wrapped around his head, hiding the tips of his ears.

He blinked a few times and looked around as if trying to figure out where he was and who was there. Jager’s eyes eventually fell upon the elven woman handing a mug of something that was burning to a man that stood opposite her. He blinked a few more times to try and focus on the flames from the mug, and then gave up the effort when the flames refused to stand still. He instead chose to focus on the woman, finding it much easier to do and much more pleasing to the eye. Jager’s gaze drifted up and down, then eventually drifted to what was in front of him as his head seemed to sway slightly.

“I’ve got shomething to trade with ya, yesh I do,” Jager slurred to the wall in front of him, but obviously intended for the elven woman a few feet away. “A bottle of fine Belvarian ale from the Belvarian Royal Brewersh, kindly donated by the ambassador himshelf, in exchange for a room for the night or a few gold piecesh, whichever is more available.”

It was quite apparent that Jager was drunk already, and it was only an hour or two after sundown. He would either have had to do some heavy drinking or have been drinking since mid-day to have gotten that drunk so early. Truth was that Jager had indeed been bar-hopping since mid-day, going from tavern to tavern, getting a few drinks of varying strength at each one before moving on. The first day in town after a long trip was always Jager’s day off, and because the last excursion had been especially long, Jager had kept on drinking long after he would have normally called it quits.

"It's um....It's Tala..." she finally replied.

Backing away from the open door she returns to the bar closing it behind her.

"What did you say yours was again?"

Turning almost as she says it she busies herself with making the potent drink.

"Ganf"

Fang watches on as she lights the drink and passes it to him.

"There ya go."

Its then a strange figure enters the tavern and walks up to the bar by Fang and Tala. Slurring his words he addresses the wall in front of him obviously intending to be talking to Tala.

“I’ve got shomething to trade with ya, yesh I do, A bottle of fine Belvarian ale from the Belvarian Royal Brewersh, kindly donated by the ambassador himshelf, in exchange for a room for the night or a few gold piecesh, whichever is more available.”

Fang chuckles to himself hearing the drunk man talk. Glad even the most potent drink couldn't do that to him. His ancestry of dragon and orc a perfect mix. Grabbing the drink before him he nods his head to the newcomer and lifts his drink blowing out the flames and sipping down the think liquid. Setting it back down on the bar he turns to the drunk.

"Evening my fellow traveler. Join me in a drink! This lovely bar maiden makes one hell of a.... well whatever this is!"

Zelthuros

Zelthuros glanced around once more before moving into the throng of people at the market. Supplies...supplies...Ah, yes. Right there. He spotted the general store and stepped inside. The owner spoke to him from behind the counter.

"What can I do ya for, stranger?" he asked.

Yes, stranger is about right.

"Traveling supplies." he replied simply in his low, cold voice.

"Of course." the man replied. He apparently got these requests all the time.

He set about to gather several different things and getting them into a traveling bundle. Coins exchanged hands and Zelthuros left without another word. He stood in the crowded center and felt that tug, more painful this time, from the graveyard. He shrugged and headed towards it.

He stopped at the gates before walking inside. He stopped at the very center and closed his eyes, letting the graveyard's feel pass through him. He sighed and felt calm and had a sense of inner peace. He may not have noticed it, but there was a beginning of a white mask forming over his face, which dissapeared as he opened his eyes.

He left, and headed back towards the tavern he had left earlier. He was calmer and less twitchy than he had been earlier. He hoped it was enough. He stopped outside the door, and then shrugged. He entered the building, nodding at the elf at the bar, and took his seat at the same table in the same chair. He leaned his bow against the same wall and Shadow layed at the same spot. His beer was apparently still on the table, and he still ignored it. He kept his eyes on the table, just like he had never left.