Romy and the hunt for the Immortal Effigy (Closed)

Day 1 - Assembling the party

The city of Last Bastion stood out like a black welt on a plague victim. It was unsightly and disorganized, sickly black smoke curled into the air from chimneys, dirty and ugly peasants trudged through the muck covered streets going upon their daily lives. All in all life in the city known as Last Bastion was brutal and hard, but it was still better than the wilderness that surrounded it.

Last Bastion had gotten its name from the fact it was the only bit of civilization of thousands of leagues in every direction. Nestled on a peninsula that stretched from the straights of sorrow and into the sea of despair, Last Bastion had clawed its way from nothing but rock and sea salt in the matter of decades. Now it was a hustling hub for merchants and adventurers alike. Many trades came through the city, many that were highly illegal or merely frowned upon it more civilized areas of the world. Those with enough gold could easily buy the influence they needed to sit upon the city council, which ruled on high from their gilded thrones. Money was what made the wheel turn in Last Bastion, as it did in most places, one could find almost anything their heart desired in this corrupt city.

That was the very reason that Romy Min’irini had made the dangerous trek to this far flung part of the uncivilized world. She had some particular tastes and desires that could only be sated with knowledge and perhaps a few helpful hands that this city could provide. It had taken her a lot of hard work and dedication to get her, along with more than her share of gold and gems. Romy was an adventurer by trade, risking life and limb for glory and gold on a daily basis. It was a tough and sometimes brutal existence, but by the Gods…the profit! If one managed to get live through a few years of adventuring they could retire and live the life of comfort from their exploits. But to the catfolk Summoner Romy, it was more than just about the money and prestige. Rational thinking or common sense had never been one of her stronger traits; Romy was reckless and short sighted for the most part. Still, there was something in her that wanted more, but just what that more was…that was the hard part.

That was until she stumbled upon a parchment in a dragon’s hoard. On its crumbling and faded surface Romy learned of a powerful artifact that could bestow upon her just what she had been searching for: the stature of the Gods themselves! It had taken her a lot of work and coin to learn more about the artifact, which she had come to know as the ‘Immortal Effigy’. It was rumored to possess the ability to bestow upon its owner the raw charisma and mystical traits of the Gods themselves. Since that time she had devoted her time to tracking down this artifact and making it her own. Romy’s long and impressive career as an adventurer and Summoner extraordinaire made such a grueling task possible, she was far from a mewling young kitten still wet behind the ears. She was a trained and experienced traveled of the world; the very fabric of existence was at her fingertips. Romy wielded powerful magic and could summon creatures from other dimensions and worlds that most didn’t even know existed. Her appearance was befitting one of such exotic power; she was a catfolk of exceeding beauty and charisma.

Standing tall for her race, at five foot nine inches, Romy Min’irini was a stunning example of catfolk beauty. Her frame was svelte and achingly beautifully, ample curved with a sleek, agile grace. It was covered head to toe in a sheath of downy white fur, silky smooth to the touch. Glossy black streaks crisscrossed her entire frame, with two on each cheek. That face was sharp and angular, ravishing and angelic in quality. Her eyes were two gleaming sapphires, catching the light so brilliantly it almost seemed they shone from within.

Her hair was a riotous mop the same color as her fur, though the tips were tinged black as her streaks. A pair of black tipped feline ears poked through that wild mane, perking to and fro with the noises of the city.

That ravishing figure was rather scantily clad, a bit of leather and silk that cinched up her more than ample bosom, pressing them up and together in a tempting display of snow white cleavage. A matching thong of the same silken material hung low on her shapely hips, bits of fluffy fur lining it all. A thick cloak of a drab gray, trimmed with the same fur hung about her proud shoulders, partially blocking that beautiful frame from view. The only thing that could be seen was her high thigh leather boots, dusty and worn from the road. A thick black striped tail swished heavily behind her, occasionally poking out from the folds of her cloak.

The beautiful catfolk Summoner stood at the entrance of the east gate. It was a massive structure of stone, metal and wood, two massive gates that swung open at the break of dawn and closed shortly after dusk. It was the main entrance to the city by those that traveled by foot or carriage, mostly merchant caravans and adventurers. Romy felt right at home. She had flickered to existence only moments ago, a ripple of drab gray before the white furred feline was there standing beside the well worn dirt road. The tip of her tail poked out from underneath her cloak and twitched lightly, even as her right ear perked forward while the left folded against her hair. The stench of mud and night soil assaulted her senses, her nose wrinkled up and Romy scrunched up her face in a disgusted manner.

“Ah the smells of humanity! I almost forgot how lovely it was…” She said with a husky rumble from low in her throat. Her left hand rose and waved before her sensitive nose. Those twinkling sapphire orbs drifted about the impressive structure before her, it seemed to stretch for miles above her head. All around she saw guards bristling with weapons, their armor highly polished and regal looking. The sigil of a stylized hawk’s head was upon their shields, though what that meant Romy couldn’t recall. It had been ages since she had ventured to the Last Bastion. The feline had kept herself very busy as of late, though necessity had finally drawn her back. With a deep breath she rolled her shoulders and stepped out onto the road and causally strolled under the arching gate and into the city proper. Only in a city like Last Bastion could an exotic creature such as herself simply meld into the crowd.

She walked past ogre’s hoisting massive sacks onto awaiting carts, stopped to watch as a goblin thug shook down a merchant in the middle of the street and even managed to catch a glimpse of what she thought was a nymph in an iron-wrought cage for sale. It was a pity she had things to do, otherwise she might have stopped for any number of reasons. Whatever vice one had could be found if they looked hard enough. Romy could easily find whatever she wanted, she did have a rather talented tongue, depending on who she used it on it could be silver or deliciously rough (it all depended on what she was using it for). But today wouldn’t take much of an effort, what she wanted was rather easy to acquire.

After an hour of leg work Romy found herself at an unfamiliar tavern. She stared up at its sign, swinging upon rusty chains. A crude painting of a severed goat’s head gushing blood was flaking upon its surface; she could barely make out the name ‘Bleeding Goat Tavern and Inn’. This was the place at least that had been the word on the street, that what she was looking for was right past those dirty, rotten wooden doors. Romy set her jaw and took a step closer, her right hand thrust out and shoved open the door. A blast of hot air and the roar of laughter assaulted her senses as she emerged within the crowded common room. Barely one eye turned towards the feline as she entered, Romy could see exactly why. A top a centralized, circular stage a busty humanoid danced erotically to a heavy drumbeat, she couldn’t tell just what kind of creature the female was but she was strikingly beautiful. For a moment Romy watched her dance, feeling a tingle of warmth within her loins. It was fleeting; Romy pushed it down with a burst of sheer willpower. The tip of her tongue lapped out over her bottom lip and she cleared her throat before striding towards the bar. It was a wide strip of well polished wood with barely enough room for the patrons that stood before it. With a confident look Romy drew up and gracefully slipped her way between two burly half-orcs. Her arms squeezed in before her, pressing those lush globes together further before she leaned in against the bar and gave a whistle. It was sharp enough to be heard over the din of the crowd, the grizzled bartender turned to face her. It was just for a second before he turned away, then back as if it took his mind a second longer to realize what he had seen.

Romy gave a little wiggle of her shoulders, which caused her upper frame to shift and her breasts to jostle enticingly. She wasn’t above giving a little show of the goods to get what she wanted. A playful and knowing smirk drifted out over her plush lips as the bartender approached. There was no denying the way his eyes wandered over every bit of her he could see, along with the burly men at either side of her.

“What’ll it be?” The grizzled bartender asked, his mouth barely moving his prominent bushy beard. Romy’s ears twitched lightly and perked at the human before she leaned in further, up on her tippy toes before she finally spoke. Her voice was husky and cracking as it rose in a pitch to be heard over the crowd, “A pint of your best hard stuff! And the name of the biggest, baddest adventurer you know that is here.”

The look that drifted across the man’s face was comical, the high arching brows and the way his beard finally did move, a subtle twitch. Without a word he nodded and bent to retrieve a bottle from behind the counter. He set a wooden mug down in front of Romy and poured a foaming liquid from the bottle, a few drops splashed the bars surface and sizzled and smoked. With the bottle still in his grasp he pointed over her shoulder into the crowd. Without even reaching for her mug Romy turned and looked in the direction the bartender had pointed.

Elliott & Lissi

“Come – it will be fun!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

The first speaker, a slender woman of moderate height, pouted. “Okay, fine. We’re going because I want to! And you can have a drink and I won’t even force you to make conversation with me. In fact I’d rather you keep your mouth shut so I overhear some stories.”

“God damned sylphs,” the dark skinned man spit the last word like venom. “Why do you need to be in everyone’s business?”

“Why are you an outcast who can’t make better friends?” she countered with narrowed eyes.

“Because I’m a drow.”

“And so,” the woman wrapped her arm around his and looked up at his face. The man stood approximately 6’, over a full head taller than his companion. “The drow will come with the sylph to the tavern. And he won’t bitch, or moan...he’ll just come along because he such enjoys my company.”

He sighed reluctantly and shifted his crimson and pupil-less eyes to the woman. “Even if I agree, we’re broke. How do you expect us to blend in with the drunks if we’re without the means to properly take on the guise?”

“Oh come now, don’t be stupid.”

Eyebrows as white as fresh snow descended on his charcoal gray face. The scowl of a drow was extremely obvious, for their natural contrast – and for some reason it always made Lissi giggle when she incurred such an expression from her companion. A reaction he despised, for certain.

“Sure, the last mystery didn’t yield us vast riches...but I am a rogue. I can’t buy a fucking mansion from picking pockets but I can sure as hell lift enough to feed us and get us drunk.”

“And so we’re reduced to this.”

She placed her hands on her hips, pulling away from their arm lock to accomplish the position. “Don’t start, Elliott!” Which was his human name, since he so much hated his origins. Lissi wasn’t even sure what his given name was. “You know, you’re climbing pretty high on that pedestal, buddy. I don’t like it. People like us can’t afford honor.”

Elliott lifted a hand to his temple. There was a crack in the dam and he really didn’t need to weather another flood. Especially on this common topic of contention. “Just...stop talking. Please. I’ll come with...whatever it takes, just...don’t let’s start.”

“Whatever.” Lissi spun on her heel, walking well ahead of her friend.

He was such a good friend, in fact, that she was going to make sure he didn’t starve on his honor diet. Again. And he could just stay perched on his high horse; look down on her for being a thief while living from her ill gotten gains.

...Well, okay. Maybe he wouldn’t die without her. He could perpetually camp in the forest, hunt rabbits and...be the hermit he was when Lissi stumbled upon his solace. But that was no way to live! People weren’t meant to be alone. Elf, human, dwarf, orc, half-whatever...it didn’t matter. Elliott would have gone fucking mad in the wilderness on his own. He had really wanted to stay there, too. Lissi found herself as an unwanted guest for two seasons before she convinced him to explore the world and its treasures and mysteries with her.

That had been seven years ago, though it only felt like days.

-----

Elliott exited his hut, his eyes immediately searching the area of his fire pit. It was dusk, and so there remained yet a slight haze of light – but not nearly so much that it caused the drow a loss of vision. It was mere seconds before his sight settled on her. “You’re still here?” he asked disdainfully.

The chestnut haired woman turned her attention, a ridiculously bright smile coming to her face. “Of course I’m still here! I told you, I’m quite stubborn.”

He groaned and approached. “We’re done.” He wrapped a strong hand around her upper arm, which was thin enough for his fingers and thumb to well overlap each other. He jerked her to her feet.

“Hey! What the hell, man?” She tried to pull her arm from his grasp. Despite her extremely slight, wispy form, she had a fair amount of strength. Just not as much strength as Elliott. She growled and tried to extract herself again, this time her alternate hand assisting by attempting to pry his grasp open. "Let me go!"

The drow felt an angry gust of wind. Except it wasn’t the wind – it was the sylph, a tempering of the air that surrounded her. Lissi’s cloak took to one side of her body, not quite violently enough to cause for a snapping sound. Her hair – and his, in fact, shifted in such a way that suggested a mini-vortex was surrounding the woman’s lithe form.

“No – you’re leaving.” He jerked her away from the fire pit, leading her towards what he considered the edge of his territory.

She screamed. Like a child in sheer panic being abducted by a stranger. No one would hear her, though. The sylph twisted her body and set her feet into the ground, leaning towards the fire pit as she tried to drag herself back towards it. She had given up on recovering her arm – it now was a game of tug-of-war. And Lissi wasn’t winning.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked suddenly, releasing (or maybe even pushing) her.

She stumbled forward, barely catching her feet. She spun towards him. The tornado of air that surrounded her pulled her cloak against her body, then slipped the material over her form until it snapped out behind her. Her long tresses remained suspended, seemingly in the eye of the storm. It floated over her shoulders, shifted gently in the ever-moving air. “Nothing is wrong with me – it’s all you!”

“What’s wrong with me is moot. How is it that you think it’s any of your business?” The drow crossed his arms, leaning his graceful form back by a single degree.

The sylph was dumbstruck. The ferocity of the wind subsided slightly as she considered him. She had expected an assault to her character, for him to continue to demand that she leave; not for him to give her an opening. “By all rights, it’s not. But – you seem interesting. I told you, tell me your story, and I’ll leave.”

“Your obsession with the lives of others is truly disturbing.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

“...And I still don’t want to talk about it.” He started towards the fire pit.

Lissi’s wind was all but gone now. She turned as Elliott walked passed her. “And I’m still unwilling to leave your company until you tell me. You’re the only drow I’ve met, I know next to nothing of your people...and I need to!” She chased after him. “Why are you being so difficult about this?”

He stopped abruptly. Lissi slammed into his back, making a small ‘umph’ noise. Elliott pivoted to face her, took a hold of both of her shoulders, shook her a little. “Why won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!”

She giggled.

“What?” his expression softened slightly in confusion.

Lissi’s giggle escalated into a laugh. Elliott looked at her as if she were mad...and maybe she was. His strong hands fell away from her shoulders and he took a step back. When the woman recovered, she looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry – it’s just...” She started laughing again. “Oh gods, I’m sorry. Your face...” she trailed off for a second, giggles threatening to bubble up again.

“What about my face?” he asked, more than a little offended.

“Oh...nothing about your face – you’re a handsome...drow. That’s just the first time you’ve given anything other than a neutral expression, and...it was funny.”

He shook his head and turned away from her again.

“Don’t be mad!” She was right on his heels. “I meant no offense!”

“Everything about you is offensive.”

“...I’m sorry.”

Elliott seated himself on a cut tree trunk that served as a chair. He looked exhausted. And this was just the start of his day.

“You know...you could just come with me.”

He gave her a puzzled look.

“Yeah! Be travel companions...get you out of this hovel.”

“I like my hovel.” It was obvious he disliked her choice of word, there.

“It’s really sad, I assure you.”

He sighed and cast his eyes 180 degrees to his left.

“You can’t live like this. I understand the whole reclusive thing every now and again... But you can’t expect to live the rest of your life in solitude. You’re young, right? ...You look young.”

“I’m 121.”

The sylph’s lips widened. A fact! “Very young. Surely life has more to offer you than...this.”

“That’s just it – it doesn’t.”

“Why?”

He shook his head.

She sighed. “I’m not asking you to join society, here. Maybe you’re confused. Continue to be an outcast...I don’t care. I can make supply runs into towns and cities – and you can eat better than a wolf and pretty much still be feral.”

“Pretty much?” He reluctantly turned his face back towards her.

“Well. You could try being half nice to me. I don’t know if you’re aware but you’re kind of a dick.”

He laughed.

“...If you come with...I could finally pursue some of these leads!” She rushed to find her knapsack, from which she pulled a trove of papers. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of small. Quick, smart...and people love me, asides from you...but I’m not capable of chasing relics on my own.” She rifled through the papers until finding the one she wanted. She stuffed it towards Elliott. “Please, Elliott? I’ll try to be less offensive and I’ll split the takes 70/30.”

“If I agreed, it would be for nothing less than 50/50.” He glanced at her paper, but did not take it.

“But...I’m the one doing all the research! These are my maps, my puzzles and mysteries...”

“And you just told me you couldn’t do it by yourself.”

“Fuck!”

“I’m being fair. I could demand more.”

“60/40?”

“No.”

“...55/45?”

Elliott didn’t even deign it with a response.

She sighed. “Fine. If 50/50 will convince you to leave this hove—your home...then so be it.”

He offered a hand and they shook. Lissi then was more insistent with the document, waving it subtly in front of him. It wasn’t a map, rather a block of text.

“I don’t read common.”

“...Don’t?”

“Cannot.”

She stared at him for a moment before finding herself a seat. “I’ll read it to you, then.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.”

-----

Yes, their friendship had always been a combative one. But it worked for them, even when their adventures were unsuccessful. Neither hated the other – and in fact held some love. Just not in any romantic sense. Wandering the world, the pair of outcasts had evolved into a fucked up little family.

They entered the tavern without consequence – no one cared about anyone else in Last Bastion. Even a drow could wander into a bar without a single eye coming their way; in fact it was the only established city (or hell, even town) Lissi could convince Elliott to appear. They tended to stay in the vast wilderness in the surrounding area, if they weren’t off chasing treasures and adventure. There was some comfort in feeling like they had a home, even if they rarely stayed in the same place for very long. Lissi scanned the crowd without appearing to do so, and after a moment she looked back at her companion.

“Choose us a seat,” she gave a down-sweeping extension of her arm to invite him to walk ahead of her.

She knew where he would go. The dark booth in the corner – only one of such existing conditions was open. As Elliott started for the location, Lissi scanned their pathing and chose a target. The heaviest coin purse in the joint was attached to the hip of a half orc, a brutishly large one that was so sure of himself that he let his money dangle in full view.

...But it was too much. He didn’t appear to be wasted. With his wits about him he’d find the purse missing and make a big fucking scene over it. Lissi might be a thief, but even believing she could escape his wrath, some poor fucker or fuckers would surely suffer for it. That was the stuff of bad karma.

And so as Elliott approached the man, Lissi deftly slid a foot in front of his – his left, since the half orc was on that side. She added a shove to make sure there’d be a collision.

Elliott not only stumbled but full on hit the man with his body. Immediately the man turned, his mug half spilled on himself and the table in front of him. In less than a second the half orc was standing. His hateful gaze was focused on Elliott, who he promptly shoved in the chest. “Watch it, drow!” As a hand returned from the shoving motion it settled on his sword hilt. Unbeknownst to the involved parties, Lissi had already lifted the man’s coinpurse – as he stood she slipped between him and the table across from his. She scurried through hurriedly, like a passerby that didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t hear the cut of the strings over all the rage of his mind over the insult of a collision with a stranger.

As the slight woman continued towards the corner booth Elliott had picked out for them she was certain no one had seen her handiwork. Her cloak shielded almost half of the room as she turned towards the half orc, his body nearly the other half, and...well, the man was obviously about to kick Elliott’s ass. And so Lissi felt she had successfully evaded all attention.

“It was clearly an accident,” Elliott spoke calmly. “I’m sorry to have tripped and spilled your beer but I’ll gladly replace it. And give my apologies, of course.”

“You going to dry my clothes too, bitch?”

The drow’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you should remove your hand from your weapon or I might start to consider such as a threat.”

The half orc sneered and drew the blade. “Or you’ll do what, exactly?”

Elliott glanced briefly around the surrounding patrons. Less than you’d think were even paying attention – brawls broke out all of the time. “He drew,” Elliott pointed out to a man that appeared to be in employ of the tavern; a bouncer that was supposed to break up or even prevent fights like the one that was about to start. “I take it is in my right to put him down?”

“If you can, sure,” the human man responded with a doubtful chuckle. The half orc was a regular and not one to be trifled with – but he was generally on good terms with the tavern and was unlikely to turn his violence to anyone other than those dumb enough cast an insult his way. Plus, he willing paid for damages when he caused them. From the bouncer’s perspective, the spectacle would be entertaining and harmless. Well. For all but the one, anyway.

The drow was dressed in a simple set black dyed leather armor with dark gray colors peeking out from beneath the breaks at his joints and waist. He had a bow and quiver upon his back, and a pair of long knives at his hip. Despite them being available, he did not draw a weapon; they were in a public establishment, after all. His eyes returned to the half orc, who was sneering at him with sword at ready.

“You’re going to put me down, huh? Well? Let’s see it!”

Elliott leapt forward, fist drawn back in a practiced recoil – though he had no intention of making contact. He knew that the second his feet touched the ground he’d need to evade a slash of the blade; and so he did just that. One swing led to another, and with no steel or shield to defend himself, Elliott quickly found himself moving backwards in order to avoid the half orc’s blade. The aggressor seemed to take pleasure in his target’s willingness to run, enjoying the play that would undoubtedly lead to his victory. A well placed vertical slash forced Elliott to jump to the side, bumping his flank into a table. In one fluid motion the sword wielder drew back his blade and thrust forward, aimed directly at the drow’s midsection. It grazed the ranger’s stomach when he turned aside at the last moment, both his hands moving to the side of the other man’s head. The half orc’s forward propulsion, and resulting over extension when his opponent evaded, made it about impossible for him to counteract the sudden forceful shove on his face. Elliott’s entire body assisted in the motion, carrying in a graceful arc to slam the man’s head against the table.

It knocked him out cold. He slumped over immediately, smeared his face down and over the edge of the table to crumple on the floor.

Elliott looked to the bouncer and shrugged. With raised brows the human simply gave him a nod.

The drow made his way to the table, glancing back at the half orc after seating himself across from Lissi. A couple of men had the unconscious one by the arms, were in the process of dragging him out the front door. That altercation would have consequences, Elliott knew.

“You’re a bitch,” he spoke without looking at the sylph.

“Shhh!” A hand and forearm appeared from under her closed cloak. Upon her pale flesh were wisps of blue color, markings of her heritage. It was all over her body, with two spikes of blue arcing across her face, inwards from the base of her ears to the middle of her cheek bones. The color about perfectly matched her eyes. She deposited several coins on the table before her hand retreated back into the folds of her coverings. “Go get us drinks, would you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me...”

She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. Her eyes left him, staring off nonchalantly in the distance as she listened intently to some conversation.

Elliott sighed and remained for several long moments. He’d be a fool, seating himself to just get back up again, but from the looks of the waiting staff he wasn’t a priority so it seemed unlikely he’d receive refreshment otherwise. Reluctantly he slid himself out of the booth, his posture proud as he walked across the room to approach the bar.

The bar keep was busy and Elliott had not physical assets to attract his attention. So instead he threw out a silver coin onto the bar. When the tip was gleamed the man came running. “Two stout ales and three shots of something hard, my good sir.” When the order was delivered the drow tipped back one of the shots and placed it face down on the mat before the bartender. He tossed enough coins to cover the purchase plus an additional tip. He wanted to get decent service for the remainder of the night, after all. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then drank another shot. Lissi didn’t need liquor, anyway.

He lingered there. He had no interest in talking to anyone, really, but it was nice to get away from the sylph every now and again.

The first thing that Romy saw was the massive half-orc. It really was hard not to see him, he was big, kind of green and ugly as sin. But he was…well…big! That was what she had stated she wanted and the half-orc certainly didn’t lack in the strength department, he was bristling with corded muscles, which would have made him not half bad if something could be done with his face. Perhaps a burlap sack, or some kind of festive mask. Romy’s right ear twitched as she silently debated how she would handle the arduous taste of not having to look at his pig face for the next several months. It was during that lengthy pause that certain events unfolded, quite rapidly as well. She had missed the tall, darkly handsome drow the first time around. Actually, she still didn’t notice the upswept ears and obsidian flesh until he was flipping around like a goblin on scour. Those sapphire orbs narrowed and her ears gave another twitch, even her tail whipped out as she watched the fast movements of the drow, an instinctual desire to give chase welled up within Romy. It was a natural sensation, though one she easily quelled with a rumbling huff of a hiss.

“Who is that masked man? “ Romy mrowed in awe as Elliott flashed about, his movements swift and elegant; ah elves were always so beautiful. The tingle in her loins returned and Romy placed a hand upon her bared mid-drift as if that would settle it.

“He’s not actually wearing a mask, you know.” One of the burly half-orcs beside her said, watching the ensuing fight with mild interest. “And he’s about to get creamed. I bet my left nut.”

“Who asked you,” Romy grumbled and shot the half-orc a nasty glance, though the man wasn’t even looking in her direction. She huffed softly and folded her arms over her chest, just under her more than ample swells. Her frame leaned back against the bar as she watched, her ears moving to and fro, following the sound of action more than the actual movement. It was over before all too quickly; Romy was almost disappointed as the half-orcs face crashed down onto the table. He was out cold before he even hit the floor, her bottom lip jutted out and with a pathetic mewl she stomped her left foot in frustration (which only caused her assets to jiggle enticingly). She was back to square one; the biggest, baddest adventurer this place had was out like an everburning torch in an anti-magic field. Quickly she turned back to the bar, her blue gaze narrowed and a vicious look on her face. The bartender shrugged, his beard twitching apathetically as he started cleaning another mug.

“Can’t win em all, sweetheart.” He said smugly, seemingly taking a little enjoyment from the catfolk’s worsening mood. Romy snarled, which came out more like a yipping huff; one thing Romy was not was ferocious. If anything the nasty look made her even more adorable, sometimes good looks were such a curse! Dejectedly she leaned back against the bar and nursed her foaming, fizzling mug. Silently she mulled over her entire reason for being here. She desperately tried to think of another plan, another idea that would fill the blank that was presently between her triangular ears.

It wasn’t until movement to her right caught her attention that things started to, well, fall together. After another sip she glanced to her right, only to see Mr. Tall, dark and handsome at the bar downing shots. Only then did she get a really good look at that stoic face, take in the mystery that was the drow. She had seen his kind before, they were never a kind lot, some of the most sadistic and psychopathic individuals Romy had encountered belonged to his kin. Romy lacked a certain sense of common sense, but she knew better than to lot everyone into one pile just because of their race. The idea slowly formed in her mind then, her nose gave a little wiggle as she sniffed. Slowly, a devious smile spread out across those plush lips, the devastated look from previous washed away with a renewed vigor. With a purpose Romy pushed up from the bar, her hands slid out over her skimpy attire, straightening what could be straightened, even offer her girls a gentle push up and into place before she threw her head back and strode towards Elliott. She moved with an undeniable grace, a visable sway to her shapely hips and a purpose within those shimmering blue depths. Her right hand whipped out, a flourish that threw her cloak out and over her shoulder, revealing the lush, ripe frame of a catfolk in her prime. Few could resist a glance at what Romy had to offer, she liked it that way, it always made dealing with anyone with even a slight sexual interest easier to handle. Her hand fell upon a curiously small leather bag at her hip, which she easily unlaced and withdrew a few gleaming golden coins. She sashayed up to Elliott’s side, flashed a sultry smile and placed the coins down upon the table on top of the silver piece he had just laid out.

“A few more rounds for my new friend here. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. Not while you single handed whipped that fugly orc into submission. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Romy Min’rini, Summoner Extraordinaire. And I have need of someone of your skills.” Romy let fly with all the gusto she could afford. She certainly had a way with words; her voice carried a charm to it that was almost irresistible. It also helped that she was simply a knock out to look at and she knew it.

“Let me pay for a few rounds and we can discuss the finer points. If…at the end you don’t want to partake of what I have to offer, we can part ways. No strings…no attachments. What do you say…?”

Crimson eyes witnessed the flash of coins being deposited on top of the drow's own; his gaze immediately attached to an arm covered in a rich coat of shock white fur, graced black slashes of color striped throughout. A casual sidelong glance carried his vision to a figure --

Now, Elliott was a reserved man...in most cases. A practiced calm kept his sharp features from showing surprise; from betraying the immediately lustful response he had to the woman who he so unexpectedly found in his company.

"A few more rounds for my new friend here."

And she was buying him drinks! That was...even more unexpected. He turned his attention: his whole body, in fact, towards the catfolk. Despite his attention his neutral expression may have read as a disinterest as he listened to her continued words.

Romy Min’rini he repeated by thought as she introduced herself. He was still yet avoiding an appreciative sweep of her generous curves even though the cut of her top and the way she held herself suggested she'd be accustomed - if not prideful - of drawing such a response from him. But Elliott didn't need to directly look at something in order to see it. Even as he gazed politely at the woman's face, he was assuredly tracing the beyond well-endowment of her chest, marveling at what seemed to be a divine sculpture in the honor of femininity. The sweep of her waist as it drew in her form, the wide flaring of her hips... Her fur was flawlessly maintained and the drow could only start to imagine it's softness.

When she said she was in need of someone of his skills Elliott could not help but to grin wickedly. He placed an extended arm on the bar, leaning nonchalantly as he loosed his gaze. A brief pause could have been filled with his own introduction, but instead he unabashedly considered her body and said nothing.

After a beat, Romy continued. “Let me pay for a few rounds and we can discuss the finer points. If…at the end you don’t want to partake of what I have to offer, we can part ways. No strings…no attachments. What do you say…?”

"I say that sounds too good to be true," he replied evenly. His voice carried a heavy bass, was smooth and dark like smoke. Crimson orbs settled again on the woman's face, just a trace of his smirk remaining, and after a few moments he straightened his posture as he offered a hand. "I'm Elliott."

The palm of his hand was covered by a wrapping of leather, his fingers and thumb left bare. The hunter's gauntlet contained two metal plates: one over the back of his hand and the other wrapping pretty well around half the length of his forearm. Beneath all of it was a continuation of the leather that made up the fingerless gloves, well stitched and crafted but completely devoid of decoration. When Romy took the offered hand, which was his left, he applied only a moderate pressure as he shook.

"Summoner Extraordinaire, hey?" he remarked as he released her hand and turned to fetch his ale from the counter. He held the drink before his breast as he continued. "I suppose you fancy yourself an adventurer, then. Which is too bad - the best of my skills are the only ones worth a no strings arrangement." His delivery was dry - which was pretty much just how Elliott spoke. He took a draft from his ale.

"Go on, I'm listening."

And so was Lissi - but not to the pair at the bar. Here she was, practically salivating over the wealth of legend and tale floating around the tavern; carrying on the air to her ears like she was meant to hear it. For a long while she sat there, appearing thoughtful, her eyes never really focusing on anything. When, minutes later, she opened her cloak to reveal a knapsack snuggled against her body, no one would really notice or care that she pulled out a stack of papers, pen, and an ink well. She settled and prepared the objects on the table she noticed that Elliott had not returned with her drink and felt irritated about it. Though less than a second later she realized it wasn't the alcohol she was here for, anyway; she'd still complain at the drow whenever it was he returned. She was already resolved in that.

Lissi pursed her lips and cast her eyes upwards, as if she wasn't sure what to write (or draw, as the case may appear once she started)...but of course there was a backlog. It was probably a developed habit of avoiding suspicion: people weren't particularly fond of having their conversations recorded (albeit in such a primitive fashion). It was much better to appear the part of an artist. In thanks to a system of a self written language, the sylph would be safe even if someone were suspect enough to steal away her workings: they'd find an intricate sketching of wave patterns and sweeping accents and nonsensical symbols. Tiny, intricate lines stacked upon lines.

After several 'thoughtful' moments she dipped her pen in the inkwell, then allowed the tool to hover for several more. When it was she set to work she didn't seem to be in a fury of motion, but the speed at which her hand moved was almost disturbing. The motions remained fluid and seemingly unrushed, despite their pace.

The first thing that went through Romy’s head was that she didn’t want to play poker with this drow, that handsome face was so devoid of expression when he turned towards her he could have just as well been made from wood. His eyes were a curious crimson, like molten metal in a forge. They were dangerous and gorgeous at the same time, Romy was an exotic creature herself and her tastes were…well…exotic. Drow were beautiful beings, there was something to be said about being a little scared of one’s sexual partner (Romy could attest to this!) Still, as Romy continued her well prepared speech he seemed as interested in it as a eunuch staring at her tits. She couldn’t help the disappointment that churned in her gut, by the Gods why did this have to be so damned hard?

Then he moved, that stoic mask cracked and in its place took what could be best described as a wicked grin. It seemed to fit him, despite the devious nature Romy couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her stomach at the mere sight. With that his gaze began to roam, his body shifting slightly into a more causal stance. He said nothing, only looked her over like she were a piece of meat. But it was to be expected, actually, Romy had hoped his eyes would linger upon her ample swells, down to her slender waist and the wide flare of her shapely hips. If it were another, say, the burly half-orc who had been dragged out by his friends, Romy might have felt a slight sense of revulsion, but now? By the Gods no, the way he looked over her was nothing if not arousing in its own right. Damn those eyes, damn those thin lips as they moved and a voice rumbled forth. Romy’s ears twitched, her shimmering sapphires orbs drooped and she took on a dreamy expression for just a brief moment. The words that Elliott spoke and the ones that Romy heard were two different things, it actually took her a moment to realize it. It was her feline ears that gave an annoying flick first, then she scrunched up her face and gave her head a shake, as if she were riding herself of a bad thought. Perhaps she would get him to say those filthy things later. Only time would tell…

His voice was addicting, even as he finished and gave a quick greeting Romy found herself wanting more. It wasn’t even what he said, just the bass of his voice that made her spine tingle with excitement. Elliott could read the a tax form and still make her quiver. It took all her willpower not to take a step closer and wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, arch her back and press up against him. Damn drow! Instead, Romy tried a more demure approach, offering her hand daintly as royalty would do. Elliott took the offered appendage and gave it an appropriate shake, hm, damn, Romy thought, she would have preferred a kiss. She let her disappointment show only slightly, after all his grip was sure and good, one could tell a lot by how one shook hands. Once Romy was sure there would be no knuckle kissing she returned the grip, though she was far from a physically empowered individual. Still, there was lots to be known from that simple touch, first and foremost that downy white fur was indeed silken to the touch. The tips of her fingers terminated in long nails, thicker than a humans but far from anything that could be used for more than a hearty back scratch.
“Elliott, hm?” Romy purred the name, letting it linger in her throat as she thought about how to pronounce it in the throes of passion. “That is a decidedly…mundane name for one of your kind.”
Those angelic features only brightened as Elliott went on to mention her title, going so far as to guess herself an adventurer. A Cheshire cat grin drifted out over her lips as he continued, it was hard turn for a devious look. A fluting giggle followed, followed by an adorable little snort. Her ears wiggled and in that grin he could see just a hint of tiny fangs, not big enough to tear a jugular but enough for a naughty nip.

“Oh, yes, my dear Elliott. I am an adventurer…but I assure you I am so…so much more,” Her voice was soft then, an alluring purr that promised so much more. She liked the dry approach, straight and to the point. It served its purpose, as did Romy’s natural charms. They seemed to work, which of course, Romy wasn’t surprised one bit. She usually got what she wanted, one way or another. Right now though, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted more - an adventuring partner or a lover; though the greedy feline secretly wanted both.

“I can’t go into exact details. The walls have too many ears here. But what I can say is I am after a relic of untold power. I’m in need of a few brave souls to help me find it. The way is no doubt fraught with danger; I will not pretend that your life won’t be in danger. But with such danger will come great reward. Riches beyond imagining, both mundane and magical. And…” Romy moved then, taking a step closer. Dark lashes fluttered midway closed over those blue eyes as she gazed up at the handsome drow, her right hand coming to rest upon his chest, over his armor, fingertips tracing the hard definitions.

“…I promise so much more. I am a Summoner Extraordinaire, as I said. But there are so many other things I am very…very accomplished at as well,” her words were throaty purrs, her eyes promised even more and as if to push it over the edge she offered the most endearing and sultry nibble to her bottom lip. “What do you say, Elliott?” She asked, focusing on the T’s in his name for subtle effect. “You think you have it in you?”

He was dear Elliott now, was he? The corners of his lips lifted by only the slightest degree as he continued to consider her. Romy's dazzling blue eyes sparkled and danced in the shifting light of flickering torches, a mischievous smile playing upon her sweet lips. Her tone was as suggestive as the promise that she was so much more than an adventurer.

He wasn't necessarily surprised to feel a stirring in his loins. More so he was grateful for the concealment of his leather armor; even if he allowed his expression to crack (which was a choice - there was no reason to suffer this gorgeous creature with the indifference he gave to his annoying companion and the world at large) he preferred to keep his composure. He listened to her, his attention shared with other thoughts that flitted through his mind. Could he drag her somewhere private...or somewhere only remotely public? He could already imagine the feel of her silken fur pressed against his naked chest, the feel of her wrists pinned beneath his hands...

Well, at least she wasn't releasing any important information for him to miss in the meantime. The daydream left as quickly as it came.

She took a step closer to him, reached to his chest with a hand. Her fingers traced the raised definitions of his cuirass. It, like his gauntlets, was of black dyed leather. Silver clasps secured the armor tightly around his torso, binding at an angle from his throat to the front of his shoulder before plunging straight downwards. The seam of the overlap boasted silver trimming but otherwise was undecorated.

“…I promise so much more. I am a Summoner Extraordinaire, as I said. But there are so many other things I am very…very accomplished at as well,” she purred the words. Even nibbled her bottom lip. “What do you say, Elliott? You think you have it in you?”

Elliott was dumbstruck though he refused to show it. It had been decades, easily, since a woman had come on to him so strongly. ...No doubt living in the wilderness and having only random encounters with strangers prior to Lissi dragging him out in the world had something to do with that. Before...well, before he had known himself to be quite handsome, had decent prospects if he had been willing to just fall in line. But instead he quickly became to be known as a righteous prick. ...It took much much more than that for him to deserve his exile from his home society. But that was something Elliott didn't like to even think about.

He was understandably convinced that he could have her. Right meow. But cats liked to chase, right? He'd hate to disappoint.

"Assuredly I do," he answered confidently. "Though I'm afraid my company comes at a high cost." Elliott took a casual drink of his ale, several drafts giving the woman a few moments to ponder his meaning. "I'd fuck you for free, of course, but in the realm of adventuring I have a partner. A particularly..." he squinted and looked to the side. "Odd? And annoying sylph friend." His eyes returned to her. He hadn't missed a beat as he spoke of sex and he just as easily moved past it.

"In fact. If there is any hope of this," he indicated the air between them. "I'm afraid meeting her will be unavoidable." He leaned against the bar again, turning to look at the booth hosting an alone cloaked woman scribbling like a possessed mystic. He hoisted his drink in her direction before giving himself a long drink.

"If you'd rather have a one night stand and find a different adventuring partner, I really wouldn't blame you. I don't know if you can see if from here but... Lissi is a huge pain in the ass." He reflected on the statement for a moment, watched his friend in the distance. Then he turned, grabbed for his third shot, downed it, and discarded the small glass to the counter of the bar. He gathered the collection of drinks, the remainder of his order and Romy's addition to it, when he turned his face towards the catfolk.

"Where am I taking these?" he asked smoothly.

In all honesty, Romy was expecting a bigger reaction. She had seen in her mind the drow simply melting into a puddle at her feet. What man in his right mind could resist Romy when she was so in control of her game? She saw that look, a flicker in those crimson orbs and the subtle lift of his lips. That was all she got, a tiny reaction to her engaging request. She had beaten around the proverbial bush with her feminine wiles, given it her all and…well? Perhaps she had misjudged the drow, perhaps he was some kind of eunuch, perhaps he had lost his lovely man bits in a tragic adventuring mishap and couldn’t afford a regeneration spell. Why Romy’s mind went to that particular scenario as she stood there looking up at the handsome drow…well…no one knew how her mind worked, not even Romy. She was very much a feline, she loved to chase, she loved sparkly things, and she had the attention span of a gnat. If she was being honest with herself, the thought of bedding the tall, dark, and comely stranger was more appealing that searching for the Immortal Effigy, it was certainly more rewarding in the short run. Tomorrow she would feel differently, but right now at this exact moment she wanted a piece of man meat with the name Elliott seared across it. She wondered even before she finished her first thought just how delicious he tasted, from his lips to his skin to his well-endowed naughty bits (She was assuming the last part – but a handy Enlarge Person spell would fix that if need be).

At long last, after what felt like ages (in actuality the length of time it took for him to draw breath) Elliott finally spoke up. Romy was on the balls of her feet, her frame tensing with anticipation. Her head tilted back and her mouth opened in an expectant manner. She waited the words that would pour out, an emphatic “Oh Gods yes!” and they weren’t that far off, if only a little more subdued. Yet they came with a but, well a though, but it was just as bad as a but. No one ever started a sentence with but and meant for it to be anything but horrible. The look of defeat tore across Romy’s face before he even finished the thought. Her ears drooped and she all but pouted as he took his drink, taking far too long to drain it.

“If you think I’m going to shell out more gold-“ Romy began at once, going left when Elliott turned right. He started up again as if she hadn’t, which in the end was all for the best. The word fuck caught her attention; it was so easy to gauge her reaction just by the way her ears would move. There was a glimmer of hope at that…and then a but, again! Romy felt the strain of flipping from one emotion to the other and for a split second she thought perhaps she should just let him finish his thought before she came to a conclusion.

But he said he would fuck her. That in the end was all that mattered, at least for the time being. He continued though, Romy almost missed the part about a partner, one ear perked towards the way he indicated. The term partner was completely ambiguous to Romy; it could have meant anything from an adventuring companion to a slave. Curiously enough though, the way he spoke of his companion indicated he didn’t think highly of her. That in itself was a bit confusing, though she had no clue of just what their relationship entailed. Romy managed to gather her thoughts as Elliott finished up, that winning smile returned to her lips and for the moment she was in control of herself.

“Odd? Aren’t we all…in some small, enjoyable way. It’s the odd ones that are the best. Who wants boring old normal when you can have…odd!” Romy said all too cheerfully, tilting her head to the right to offer a cute little look to the conversation.

“Let’s see what your friend has to say. If she is in your company no doubt she has some impressive skills of her own. And if she wants to fuck too that’s alright with me.” Romy interjected as Elliott downed the last of his shots and collected the rest of her drinks. The matter-of-fact way that Romy said that last bit hung in the air as she pushed herself up from the bar and trotted off through the crowd in the general direction Elliott had pointed, the name of Elliott’s companion still making her ears twitch. She said it to herself over and over, Lissi, Lissi, as she strode with a confident swagger to her shapely hips. It wasn’t hard to find the cloaked woman, who looked more like some kind of vagabond than a proper adventuring companion. So secretive, so maddening was the way she wrote that Romy instantly became captivated with her, not that she could even see the Sylph.

“You must be Lissi. I’m Romy. Elliott has told me…well…absolutely nothing about you besides your name. He did say we should meet. I made him an offer he couldn’t rightly refuse. Well…two actually. But the important one involves you…actually both might. Anyway!” Romy hoisted herself into the booth beside the woman without so much as a second thought. Her ample breasts jostled wildly with the quick movement, her bright sapphire orbs caught the light of a nearby torch and shone for a second as she regarded the cloaked figure more closely.

“How would you like to be rich and famous?” Romy asked with that charming smile.

Elliott wasn't hoping for one answer over the other; or so he thought, or so he told himself...but as Romy started talking so excitedly about odd -- dammit, why did he do this to himself? He could've had her. Hell, he could have ran off with her and left Lissi behind...

His sinking heart found a moment of levity in Romy's ridiculously cute smile, the way she tilted her head. Gods, she was gorgeous. It was then that she began speaking of how she'd like to talk to his friend, considering that she might be valuable in adventure - it was now that Elliott took his third shot, clearly seeing the error in his ways - when the woman unexpectedly added: "And if she wants to fuck too that’s alright with me.” She did an even better job than he would have, delivering the line as one would a casual fact. He stifled the jerk-reaction tightening of throat; the wince of his body was apparent but at least he didn't spit up his liquor. It took him a moment to recover and the next he knew the catfolk was making her way through the crowd towards the dark booth in the corner.

...He admired the view until it was obscured by other, less interesting bodies. Then he gathered the drinks and followed.

Lissi was unaware the stranger's approach, her vision focused intensely on her 'drawings'. Even as she heard her name loosed into the air she did not immediately turn her attention. Rather, it was a gradual process. Continuing to write, sky blue eyes slowly shifted to look at the catfolk who identified herself as Romy. The sylph didn't seem to have trouble in continuing to write as she took in the other woman's presence, half listening to her and half listening to another conversation. It wasn't a strain, though the mentioning of an offering - or perhaps two, even - involving herself...well. That was something worth listening to all on its own.

A bright smile crept onto Lissi's lips. Even as Romy was in the process of seating herself, Lissi gestured with a hand as if offering the spot while scooting only the slightest amount out of the way. There was much more room to be had upon the padded bench of the booth; but Lissi did not retreat to the wall.

“How would you like to be rich and famous?” the newcomer asked.

"I seek not fame, only fortune." A slender hand moved to collect and move her papers to the side as Elliott deposited drinks upon the table. Lissi's attention shifted to him briefly. Her resolve to complain about his poor service was quickly dismissed on the chance that this woman might know of something interesting - why else would have Elliott brought her along, otherwise? And so after nothing more than glance her sight returned to Romy. Unlike her companion, Lissi's expression showed an active interest: she continued to beam a smile and her eyes practically sparkled. "What kind of riches are we talking about?"

"Lissi's concept of wealth is fucked," Elliott offered before Romy had a chance to answer. He eased himself into the booth across from the ladies as he continued. "She's far more interested in intangible worthless things than actual treasure."

"You sound like a moron," Lissi countered without so much as looking at him. "Knowledge is everything."

"At least I understand the definition of 'riches'. I was just trying to help our new friend understand your sort of crazy."

"Friend, is it?" Lissi looked surprised and almost defensive. It wasn't that she had any reason to dislike Romy - in fact her introduction and ease of tongue seemed promisingly compatible for friendship with the sylph - but hearing that long sought after title from the drow applied to another...after knowing her for, what, minutes??

Oh...okay. That was jealousy. For certain.

The sylph laughed and reached for her drink. "I'm sorry," she spoke to Romy. As a supreme observer of expression and tone, herself, she was certain that the catfolk had seen the momentary flash of resentment in her countenance. Elliott certainly had - and he was grinning like an idiot over it.

"I'm afraid there will be little convincing this one until you share details that are best left for private circumstances," the drow continued. "So far as 'the important' offer is concerned, anyway. As to the other...well. I think drinks can only help, right?" He offered a lifted beverage for a toast.

Lissi's expression showed confusion. She looked between her companions, restraining her immediate want to suggest that they find these more private circumstances so serious conversations could commence. She didn't understand what else it was Elliott could be referencing, though, and curiosity tugged at her mind. Even as she could plainly see the sexual appeal of the other woman...she wasn't aware how obvious this mystery was. "What is it that determines whether or not I'm involved in this 'other' arrangement?" Lissi asked.

Elliott's only response was to laugh. And so the sylph looked to Romy hopefully.

Romy's initial reaction was to scoff, a sharp cluck of her tongue against the roof of her mouth before she let out a most derisive snort that flared her nostrils. Yet at the same time she held that smile, amused and intrigued even more as the woman retorted in an easy fashion.

“Oh, sweetie. What good is fortune without the fame?” Romy all but purred the words, innuendo dripping from them with each reverberation. Those sapphire orbs lingered on the delicate appendage that slid out to move the papers on the table. With next to no subtly Romy began to take in what she could of the woman. Elliott had given her nothing to go on but a name, it was up to Romy now to piece together just who Lissi was and what made her tick, more importantly, what she could say to win her over to her side. Romy's mind began to compile the data, her ears twitched and one could literally see the gears grinding behind her big, bright blue eyes. Before she could fully put herself out there, the two started in at each other like an old married couple. All Romy could do was blink and listen as the banter flew, her ears perked and the surprised look that overtook her visage quickly turned to mirth. The catfolk gave a delighted chuckle and let the Cheshire cat grin overtake her plush lips.

There was a quick bout of jealousy, even to someone as easily distracted as Romy could be, she saw it when Elliott referred to her as a 'friend'. Her head tilted to the side and she gave the drow a sidelong glance, the shit eating grin upon his face all the evidence she needed to decide the slip was intended. She didn't let that brief flash of negative emotion to throw her off though, Romy offered an understanding nod as Lissi apologized. It was now or never.

“Hm. Well all the juicy details are best left for more intimate of settings. But,” Romy paused and nibbled her bottom lip, the torchlight catching the pearly white fang that dipped into her plush flesh. “I can assure you that what I seek is the stuff of legends. You don't want the fame? That's fine, more for me. You'll be buried up to your pretty little head in gems and platinum coins, regardless.”

Romy's nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air curiously, her blue gaze lingered intently upon Lissi the entire time. Elliott was in the bag, so to speak, all Romy had to do was convince his svelte little partner to come along. There was a brief twitch of those shimmering orbs as they slid down to the papers on the table, in the woman's grasp. Romy took a guess and went with it.

“The story you'll be able to tell about it...well...it will be epic!” Romy flashed that wide grin once more, her brows arching wide, the look both playful and endearing. Yet it didn't last long, Elliott was more than keen on hinting at the other conversation and opportunity. Romy had almost forgotten about it, since she wasn't staring at the dark hunk of elf meat (her attention was rather limited). It took her a good second or two to even comprehend it, Lissi's expectant look and Elliott's guffaw speeding her on.

“Oh yes!” Romy said at length in the tone of one remembering a forgotten tidbit of information. One hand rose before her and in a whispering tone Romy prattled off a few words, the language spidery and exotic. To the trained ear it was the syllables of magic, a simple yet practical spell that many a mage knew and could cast without effort. While it had no outward visual effect, as Romy's hand moved, her fingers twitched and splayed, Elliott felt the sudden pressure of a hand against his left thigh. It trailed slowly up, with a lover's delicate touch till it cupped him through his breeches and offered a none too subtle squeeze.

“Elliott here has agreed to fuck me. Though he wouldn't agree to joining my quest without your approval. So if you are up to it....I think I can squeeze you in both places.” Romy spoke so matter-of-factly, her tone causal even as her eyes danced in the torchlight. She moved suddenly, with a natural feline grace the catfolk leaned closer to Lissi till their noses touched. Romy's own was curiously cool,her nostrils flared as she sniffed at the sylph with intentional little sniffles. She peered all to intently into Lissi's sky blue gaze, here easy, winning smile unbroken.

“What do you say, my little chronicler? You are under no obligation to agree to anything once you hear me out. I assure you it is all on the up and up.” Romy whispered, her voice a husky rumble in her throat. Before Lissi could answer she gave the tip of the sylph's nose a little lick and promptly sat herself back down with a huff, her ample assets jostling fiercely. It was then she remembered her drink, a bright, surprised look overtook her and she snatched up the mug before downing it in two gulps.

All the while that disembodied hand remained upon Elliott, hidden under the table. Romy finished off her mug and lifted it towards him, only to offer a smoldering wink before her attention turned back to Lissi.

Money was good but exciting adventure and stories were better! Lissi's expression lit up like a child that just received the best birthday present ever. Romy had read her properly, that was for sure. That, coupled with the fact that Lissi's other companion never indulged in her interests made it seem it really seem like this lady got her.

And so Lissi knew she'd get the answer to her question from this lovely and friendly catfolk. But, when the mystery was solved, the sylph looked mortified. Her mouth remained open in shock as Romy moved in closer and pressed her nose against her own. She was - obviously - too dumbstruck to give a coherent response. The other woman simplified the situation by asking directly about what seemed to be in reference to the adventure rather than the fucking.

The catfolk licked her nose playfully before withdrawing, settling herself into her previous position in the booth.

"I...uh..." Lissi started. She glanced in Elliott's direction, expecting him to laugh or have some remark...but he didn't. The man was leaning against the cushioned back of his seat, his head tilted back, a stupid expression on his face. The sylph hadn't understood the purpose of Romy's spell and therefore didn't quite understand; though she wasted no time on it. Her sky blue eyes returned to their new friend. "I'm all for adventure," she offered somewhat awkwardly. "As to the other..." she let her gaze drift away, "I...uh...I don't think I could..."

Her expression suddenly twisted to panic. Without warning, Lissi dove under the table, to seek shelter from whatever it was she saw. But, from the new vantage, she very quickly found something else to be shocked about. "Elliott!" she scolded. Then, in a far more hushed tone, "What are you doing?! Stop that!" Lissi kicked at his legs as if to enforce her command.

He growled in response and kicked her back. "Get the fuck out from under the table!"

"Shhh!"

Elliott hissed, entirely unwilling to devote his attention to Lissi's bullshit. "Watch if you want, I guess. Maybe you'll change your mind about..."

"Stop talking to me!" Lissi commanded barely above a whisper. "Pretend I'm not here."

"Yeah, okay. Works for me." Elliott gave Romy a look that translated to told you. He turned his attention to his drink only for a moment before kicking back to simply enjoy himself. Gods, it had been so long...

Romy would feel Lissi's hand on one of her calves. Without a word, she altered the leg's position so as to better obscure her existence. The process was repeated with the other. She looked up at the catfolk afterwards, sitting very near her if only not to be too close to Elliott, and gave a timid smile.

It all happened so suddenly. Before Romy could react Lissi went from shocked to timid to...just not there! The feline had to do a double take over it, her ears perked forward before they drifted to either side, twitching and perking in all directions. Of course it didn't take long for Romy to find the slyph, who had taken it upon herself to disappear underneath the table. Elliott's reactions were just as varied, from annoyance to vague pacifism to acceptance. It was simply all too much for the catfolk, having to snap from one idea to another to quickly, one situation to another was starting to give her a headache. She caught the 'I told you so' look on Elliott's face and wrinkled her nose up, giving a huff in response. The hand upon his crotch tightened briefly before simply drifting away into nothingness. Romy flicked her wrist, dispelling the cantrip and reached towards the small pouch at her side.

She gave a glance around, seeing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. While Romy had an overwhelming personality and above average intelligence, her wisdom and common sense, as well as her sense of perception were lacking. She couldn't possibly catch the deft movements of the other in the crowd, who was little more than a wisp of shadow. Obviously Lissi saw it, perhaps caught the glint of torchlight on storm gray eyes.

Romy, unfortunately, saw absolutely none of it, more distracted by Lissi rearranging her legs and giving her a sheepish smile from down below. It wasn't the first time she had a beautiful woman in that position, though it was the first time she wasn't doing other things more than smiling awkwardly.

“I think...” Romy began, her fluting tone rising in question. Her hand slid into the pouch at her side and retrieved an object several sizes too big to actually fit into it. “We should talk somewhere more private and less...distracting? It's about time you both heard what I have to say.”

Romy brandished the object in her grasp at Elliott, a slender piece of metal forked at one end. It looked like an ordinary tuning fork made of iron, and indeed it produced a quality humming sound when struck. Romy tapped it against the rim of her mug, letting the reverberation tingle down her fingers before a knowing smile drifted across her plush lips.

“Now come along!” She said in that all too upbeat tone. Her free hand slid out to capture Elliott's drinking arm by the wrist, whilst her tail snaked out and coiled itself about Lissi's shoulders like a loose scarf. All the while Romy began to speak in that spidery language from before, though this time the volume was above a whisper. It was intriguing and commanded a sense of power with each word; it was short and brief and once her lips stopped moving there was a sudden pulse of energy that radiated out from her lush frame and into her companions. The visual effect was quite stunning, the world literally shifted and warped before it proceeded to melt around them in a blink of an eye. The cramped table at the tavern was replaced by a small wooden room bathed in a comforting glow of candle light.

Romy, who was expecting the change, easily shifted her legs beneath her and came to stand, her hand still grasping Elliott and her tail about Lissi. A pleased smile drifted out over her lips and she canted her head to the side before a resounding giggle escaped.

“I hope you don't mind the swift departure, but it was all becoming much too much. Welcome to my home away from home...my abode! One thing about magic is you never have to be too far away from a comfortable, familiar bed!”

Romy almost squeaked the words with excitement, her frame bouncing on her heels and causing those lush mounds to jostle temptingly once more. The trio stood in a small room, no larger than a common entry way into a large house. Two sets of double doors were upon either side of them, north and south, both securely closed. A small table sat against the wall to the east with several candles resting upon its surface, half melted and dripping wax onto the smooth wooden floor. The walls and ceiling were composed of the same wooden planks, polished and gleaming in the dim light.

“Come, come. Shall we get a drink and get down to business? Adventuring first, of course. My sweet Lissi,” Romy started without pause as she reached for the doors and flung them open in a dramatic fashion. The catfolk took a dancing step forward into a larger room, which appeared to be some kind of sitting room complete with over-stuffed leather chairs and a couch, all positioned before a hearth with a roaring fire burning within. Numerous shelves stuffed full of books and scrolls and other arcane objects lined the walls, even a cabinet or two stuck between them. Light shone from sconces on the walls spaced out at even intervals and a staircase in the far back lead both up and down into absolute darkness.

“Have either of you ever heard of the artifact know as the Immortal Effigy?” Romy asked causally, her easy strides carrying her towards a low writing desk cluttered with tomes and parchment. Her fingertips drifted across the well worn surface of one of the tomes as she rounded it, a knowing look on her face as she turned to the two. That look lingered for just a moment before it was replaced by an absent-minded twitch.

“Oh right...drinkies. Elliott...be a dear and fetch us a bottle from the cabinet,” Romy put on her best pleading look for just a moment, enough to suffice before she gestured idly towards one of the numerous cabinets resting against the walls.