[SS Tavern] Life in the city (Open)

[Irriari]

4th of Summer, 511 AV

Wandering around the streets of the Nitrozian Plaza had yielded very little in the way of information, though Irriari could hardly blame the city dwellers. It seemed that every person she passed looked at her differently, and it was unnerving. Some had the eyes of prey and quickly scurried off when she approached, while others wore the sharp edged mask of a predator and she knew that they were assessing her, and taking in every inch of muscle, though the reason behind such evaluations were unknown to her. Finally, she had made her way into the a tavern. While she had never been to any in the Sea of Grass, her travels after leaving home had shown her how great these establishments could be. Taverns to her, represented a wealth of knowledge, semi palatable food and the potential for danger. Very few of the other stores had such potential, and Irriari hoped that she could finally find out more about the city of Ravok and its odd citizenship here.

When she entered the tavern her eyes flicked over the seating arrangement as she tried to assess the best and worst locations to sit. Her fingers moved loosely at her side as her claws clicked together. A spacious bar lined the back wall and barmaids were constantly weaving through the tables of patrons to return there. While a seat at the bar would have accommodated her large wings without cramping, Irriari knew that facing away from the door was a plea to be stabbed or shot in the back. After a chime she settled on a table near the center of the room. While it wasn't as optimal as a seat in a corner, if things got nasty she would have plenty of area to move around in. She took a seat at the table and stared at the slab of wood that made the table top. While small, the tables had a rustic feel and she appreciated the touches of nature that were scattered around.

She drummed her clawed fingers on the table as she waited for a barmaid to take her order. Irriaris eyes flicked over the patrons, never for more than a second or two each as she cataloged their weapons in her head. While most of them would be forgotten by the end of the night, it was comforting to know where her biggest threats were for now. From the populace alone, Irriari knew only that most of the city was filled with humans. While tasty, she knew that she was the minority here, and that was a fact that she had to keep in mind above all else during her stay. She simply hoped that Ravok would be a better city than Sahova had been.

[Cassandra Coven]

"Hey Cassandra! New one in! Hurry it up!" The woman's voice was loud but clipped, almost harsh. The volume was necessary to be heard above the noise of the tavern hall, and her tone, well, Cassandra could well understand the irritation behind her fellow barmaid's attitude. Work never stopped in the Silver Sliver Tavern as it was always full, even now when the sun was only making its way down to the horizon. The dark-haired woman ceased her wiping of an empty table and slipped the damp rag into her apron pocket, stopping by the bar to snatch a wooden tray before hurrying over the latest customer, not wanting to be the target of one of her more short-tempered co-workers' ire. Cassandra approached the new arrival from behind, noting the silvery hair and the short stature of the person, and the strange and heavy-looking cloak that framed her shoulders. She surmised her to be a youth ("Or more likely another foreigner with that peculiar garb!") and had a teasing quip prepared as a welcome. Light on her feet, the serving woman skipped the last few steps in a playful gait. "Hi there! Aren't you a little young to be..." Her voice trailed off as she came face to face with the...creature, for lack of a better word, as she knew nothing about Zith. Black pits for eyes met her hazel ones and she quickly averted her gaze, settling instead on the clawed fingers that impatiently drummed on the table's surface. She looked like a cross between a human and a bat, and she even had the fur to match! Caught off-guard by the other person's appearance, Cassandra drew back, the tray raised before her as if to use it as a shield. She realized her reaction a moment later and slowly lowered the wooden implement, forcing herself to step closer just to appear accommodating as well as to hide her revulsion. "H-hello," she stammered, greeting the Zith once more. "What...what will you have? A drink? A meal? Uh...uncooked meat?" Cassandra bit her lips as soon as she had blurted out the last part. A look of utter mortification creased her pretty face. Struggling to regain her composure, she cleared her throat. "I-I mean there's lamb roasting on the g-grill. Yes." She nodded, her eyes straying back to the strange person's furred arms. She hoped it did not have fleas, suddenly worried about her long dark curls.

[Reaver]

It was days like these Reaver was glad to be out of the house, but he didn't know it yet. As Reaver made his way through the twisting and winding streets, he found few things of particular interest today. Having spent most of the day searching for medical work, he decided to try using his 'Plan B' option again. He looked again at his form, a female body was going to make his known associates uneasy of him again. He did what he could to adapt his look to be as similar as it could to the male counterpart. This victim being a drowned person, however, he was quite sure the stench of the water would never leave. He'd laugh at the people who call water 'clean,' and challenge them to smell the bottom of the beautiful 'clean' lake. Ah yes, 'Plan B.' Reaver made his way into the only tavern he can remember the name of. The barmaids seamed to avoid him today, trying their best to avoid his smell, he assumed. Reaver mentally reminded himself of new condition. I must remember, I'm a she for now. I'll be a rough one, I suppose, but try and avoid conflict. The barmaids might remember my outfit, though. Maybe they won't notice for a while. He scanned the room, and found a barmaid he had not met yet. Perfect for hiding his new... change. She was... serving someone at a table, someone alone it seamed. She was looking rather pale. Maybe she hasn't been eating well. NoteIf you haven't read Reaver's physical appearance, I would direct you to my Character Sheet now. Irriari was looking for threats, and his appearance and actions might put him high on that list. He doesn't have visible weapons, but he does have his 'medical' bag under his cloak. Reaver made his way to the table and promptly sat down. "Is this seat taken?" It was this time that Reaver noticed the reason the barmaid was pale... fear. Even undead, his primitive emotion of fear managed to kick in for a moment as he looked to the other. Good thing I wear a mask, or I would have been rude. Reaver took a moment to assess the person at the table... and couldn't seam to recall any rumors of such monsters traveling around. On the plus side, he didn't recall any rumors of monster HUNTS of that nature recently, either. "You must be new in the city, I can tell already. Those eyes, they fit well for this city I fear... but that same emotion makes them hate you for those beautiful eyes. My name is Reaver." With the mention of his, her name, she bowed. "How long do you plan on staying?" Reaver knew she was taking a risk, and made a mental prayer. Please be friendly, or at least warn me before starting to eat me. She turned swiftly to the barmaid. "Water, please."

OOCReaver isn't a regular, but he's hard to forget. Reaver's previous stays in this bar, if Cassandra asked, have been very poor. He only orders water, sits around watching people, and leaves after a fight breaks out or someone walks away REALLY drunk. There may also be a rumor about a rat he brought into the bar in the later half of last season. All around, she must seam like a swell guy. The rumors would be of a 'he' however. He rarely leaves tips, though the barmaids rarely talk to him... ever. In other news... changing what gender I type for Reaver is actually rather hard.

[Irriari]

OOCEdited to reflect that Reaver is playing as a female... it was a bit confusing to me at first, but we're good now!
Irriari examined the decorations of the bar and breathed the air in deeply. At her first tavern, the scent of mead and various other drinks had overwhelmed her, and she ended up screaming aloud in Common, accusing everyone of carrying some sort of poison. The patrons had thought her mad until an astute women finally understood and showed her a mug of the brew she was drinking. While the distinction was now clear, Irriari didn't quite know what to make of the ever changing scents that cities held. Each street corner offered something else to see, hear and smell, and this tavern was no different, though she noted that most of the patrons favored a metallic colored drink that faintly resembled the ore that ran through the rocky walls of the colony.

She was growing impatient and about ready to leave when a voice spoke up behind her. The merry sounding barmaid greeted her happily until she saw the ziths face. All of a sudden, the dark haired human was both confused and afraid. Her stance had been open and inviting but the second her hazel eyes had taken in the full form her patron she tensed and shifted away slightly. Irriari nearly chuckled as the girl did everything and anything to avoid looking at her straight in the eyes.

After a few more seconds the human had composed herself enough to speak. Through all her fear and revulsion she still had the mental capacity to inquire what sort of food or drink Irriari wanted, but the last part of the statement, whether it was intentional or not, infuriated Irriari. The girl continued to speak, mentioning something about a dog, or a pig, though Irriari was far too lost in the previous statement. Raw meat. How pleasant of the waitress to offer it to her.

She moved her arm, hoping that the girls gaze would follow as she moved her hair slightly to the side with her clawed hand.

“Raw meat? How kind of you to offer such a delicacy to me. But we zith are picky, you know? It can't be just any meat, from just any person. I had no idea this place served such wonderful things or I assure you, I would have visited earlier.”

Irriari looked first at the bar maids long silken hair, and then let her gaze drift to the woman's neck and down the rest of her body, stopping just short of her feet before she continued speaking.

“What kind of meat do you have back there? Perhaps, something like yourself? Tall, tasty and beautiful? Well, they wouldn't have to be beautiful. See, I prefer my humans charred black, but still bloody on the inside. What do you say? Do you have any of that?”

Irriari proceeded to stand up and stepped closer to the girl, heedless of the one foot height difference between them. It would be so simple to snap her neck now and watch her pretty face slowly lose all of the emotion that filled it. Regardless of what she had told the woman, she was not in the mood for meat tonight.

“If you don't have that, you could run off and get me a drink. Whatever that silvery drink is that everyone seems to like so well.”

She had no intention of drinking it, as the girl would have plenty of reasons to poison her after what she had said. Still, she wanted to feel somewhat normal among these humans, though the scared mess in front of her could have eliminated that as a possibility all together.

While she truly wanted to play out the game a bit longer with the girl, Irriari was interrupted by someone sitting down to the side of her, at one of the other two chairs left empty at the table. Whoever this person was, they were either brave, or stupid beyond comprehension. Possibly both. She waved a hand at the girl, hoping human would run off so that she could deal with the presence of the newest person at the table.

Irriari didn't understand humans at all. When someone in her colony asked a question, they asked with the expectation of getting an answer or some verbal cue, like an arrow to the face, to give an answer. Apparently, humans asked but did not care of the answer. This one was sitting comfortably in the chair, and was looking up at her as she turned towards them. She had no obvious weapons on her person, but something was underneath her cloak, and that unnerved her. She sat down to face the woman, as she would rather have a frightened bar girl armed with a tray at her back than an overly forward stranger. The woman spoke openly about her appearance, though she did not understand her strange remarks. Why did her eyes matter? While they weren't colored like a humans she could hardly understand how hers were a huge abnormality.

“I am new here. I know nothing about the city at all, and none of what you just said made sense to me. The only thing I know is that there are lots of humans.”

Irriari decided that conversing with the new stranger would probably be more helpful than scaring those in the room, though it would be far less entertaining.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra was suprised that it - a Zith, the creature called herself - could actually speak in common. But the winged woman, for the leathery material the dark-haired barmaid had mistaken to be a cloak was in truth wings wrapped around its body, seemed to take exception at her faux pas. Voice dripping with malice, it spoke of cannibalism and the grisly things it liked to do with its meal (human meals!) and Cassandra's eyes widened in near panic. When it stood up, despite being much shorter than she was, the barmaid backed off a step. Her gaze flickered towards the door, desperately searching for the bouncer was and what in the world he was thinking that he had allowed someone so alien and savage to step inside the tavern. One of her hands fingered the hem of her skirt, feeling for the coldness of the stiletto hidden beneath its folds, wondering if she would be forced to pull the blade out to defend herself. It probably has fangs that could rip my throat out! But the Zith did nothing more than that one intimidating move, to Cassandra's relief, and ordered for a mug of the Sliver instead. Eager to distance herself from the freakish creature before her, Cassandra was about to run off to the bar to do as told when another patron came in and fearlessly took a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs on the same table. The newcomer was a human woman, to all appearances at least, though Cassandra did note a certain awkwardness in the person's movements. There was just something peculiar about the way she carried herself, as if she was not comfortable with her own body. No, comfortable was not the right word....familiar. Yes, it seemed as if the woman was not familiar with her own body. Strange. And she reeked! The smell of Lake Ravok wafted off her, and faint though it was, with the aromatic scents of the food and drinks around the tavern, Cassandra could tell that it came from the latest arrival. Must be a Ravosala driver. Yuck. The woman asked for water. Cassandra did not bother to wait to hear if she would order for anything more and she rushed off to get each one's beverages. The barmaid would return several minutes later, her serving tray laden with a mugful of the house's special drink, which she placed very carefully before the Zith, and a glass of plain, uncooled water for the woman. "T-that's a gold miza for the Silver Sliver," she stuttered to informed the Zith. Turning to the other woman, she added, "A copper for the water." Though you should probably order a tubful and use it to take a bath, she did not add. She did wrinkle her nose however. Worried that neither would pay their tab, Cassandra waited for each of them to fish out their payment from their respective coin purses...though at a relatively safe distance away from the winged creature. For obvious reasons, she was terribly afraid of that one.

[Reaver]

Reaver leaned back in the chair, using her feet to prop herself up. "New to Ravok, yes, that's what I said. There are indeed many humans here, some with great powers hidden away. I suppose a predator like yourself doesn't often use a mirror. You like the taste of swiftly burnt human meat. If only you didn't need the bloody, I could provide for you all day. There is so much at the bottom of the lake, though I suppose you might join it all if you keep threatening the workers of this city." Reaver raised her left hand to her mask as she was talking. With her final line, she raised her right to in front of her. The palm up, almost like an invitation. The cloak fell back to reveal the bag she had on her... which had stains of blood on it. "I like to explore those depths from time to time, as everyone can probably smell. If you intend to stay long, I wouldn't recommend spreading fear. Fear controls the city, and the guard don't like people taking that from them." When the barmaid returned, Reaver lowered her chair to it's 'proper' setting. She grasped her outstretched hand tight, and threw it to the side, causing her cloak to fall back over her right side. She then reached 'below' the bag, under the cloak, and reached as if into her side. Slowly, she pulled out a copper Miza, and rolled it along the table. It almost rolled off, but stopped near the Zith.

[Dervish]

Turning the doorknob to the Silver Sliver, Dervish entered only to stand at the entrance looking around the tavern. He was thirsty today; the summer had proven warm, a beard and long hair didn't exactly cool him off. The Sliver was quite full despite the fact it was early afternoon, and he looked around for a possible place to sit in peace. Last time he had been here there had been trouble, but this time he felt more at ease. Heck, he might even feel good. Despite the fact that he was still more or less put on hold with the 'stryfe, he had a form of employment - an affiliation other than Lorcan and being a street thug. He resignated himself to stand at the bar, a few people were looking at him wondering why he was standing in the doorway now and today he didn't feel much like getting attention. He started crossing the floor of the Sliver, looking around for a barmaid to order a drink, but slowed in his walks as he neared a table in the middle of the room with two occupants, where a moldy smell and an impossible sight peaked his interest. There was no way... Was that a fullblood? A Zith? And who could the other person be, who smelled so horrid and dared sit next to .. Her? Dervish walked over to their table, grabbing a barstool from a - no wonder - empty nearby table and sat himself down next to the two, without removing his eyes from the Zith. Her eyes were darker than his own, and she was covered in dull gray fur. There was an aura of predator around her; yet at the same time a strange familiarity Dervish had never felt anywhere else.

[Irriari]

The barmaid quickly scampered off when Irriari's new table mate ordered herself a water. It was difficult not to say something else to the flighty barmaid as she went to the back of the room, but now Irriari had more pressing concerns.

The girl began speaking and some of her words jarred Irriari. She hadn't stopped to consider the effects of her actions. It was simply who she was, and such banter was more than common in the colony. It separated the weak willed from the strong of heart and though few humans ever stood up to her, she knew that some would. Fear was her weapon of choice, aside from her poisons and it was disheartening to have such a thing taken away from her, simply because she was inside a city.

“The guards. Who are they? Will they kill me for what happened here?”

She looked around the room quickly, but little had changed. No guards had suddenly swept into the tavern intent on punishing wrongdoers. Perhaps she was safe for now.

The serving girl returned and informed them both of their totals as she set the drinks down. Irriari chuckled and fished her coin purse out of the quiver and put a golden miza on the table top, while one copper miza rolled her way from the other side of the table. She slid both to the middle of the table and waited for the barmaid to accept them. She would not push them any further, as the girls squirming was too good to miss.

To the left, another man pulled up a chair and Irriari nearly grabbed her short bow and nooked an arrow to it. Was she no longer frightening? No, the human girl had at least assured of that. The newest addition to the table was far taller than anyone she had seen in the tavern so far, and his hair cascaded down his neck and back in long knotted falls. There was something about him that was so familiar, and her eyes quickly looked into his, and Irriari noticed that his eyes were a deeper brown than any of the humans she had ever saw. She looked down, searching for his hands, and his nails were cut roughly, at sharp angles. She had heard of half breeds of her race, though it escaped her why any human would want to mate with a male zith, though she supposed that not all of the couplings were consensual.

She spoke a common greeting in Zithanese that was roughly, “Brother, I am here.” While the two humans would be unnerved by it, she had to know if her assumptions were correct. If he was not a half-zith then she would simply look crazy, which was fine by her.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra palmed the coins as quick as a cat, careful to avoid coming to near the sharp claws of the Zith and at the same time making sure she was downwind of the malodorous woman. The barmaid was beginning to think that she had the worst luck waiting on tables that day. A circus must be in town with all these freaks coming in and it had to be her that served them. She needed to think of something else to do to pass on serving the pair any further. Dishes! Everybody hates doing the dishes, she thought, proud of herself that she finally found a solution to her problem. I'll do that instead. Backing a bit, she did an abbreviated curtsy to the strange pair, forcing a smile to her lips as she did so. "Very generous of you. If you need anything else..." Before she could finish, yet another patron sat on the last remaining chair of the table, though he must not have been paying much attention for he crushed Cassandra's foot with one of the chair's legs as he pulled it back. Reacting in surprise, the barmaid took an involuntary step to the side, but it unbalanced her and she waved her arms wildly to catch herself. Unfortunately, the hand holding the serving tray brushed a little too close to the latest arrival, smacking him on the back of the head. It was not a powerful blow, not even strong enough to give him a bruise, but it would surely leave him scratching his head. Cassandra rushed to the man's side immediately. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright, sir?" she gushed.Looking at him, she realized that he was one of the regulars of the tavern. Cassandra paused to remember his name...Dervish. Yes, he's had a bit of an 'accident' before around her which led to a brawl, but he never did seem to remember that event. A good thing. "Oh, it's you! I'm so sorry about your head, it was an accident," Cassandra said sincerely. She ran her hand to the spot where she had hit him, rubbing it with her long fingers, and then pressing in close to the man so that his head would rest on her flat belly. Nearness of a woman's curves was enough to make most men forget a slight done by that same woman, especially if that woman was Cassandra. She had done it to other patrons more times than she really cared to count. It was probably partly responsible for her popularity among the male tavern goers. "So...what can I get you? The Sliver, or just plain old ale?" As she waited for his reply, Cassandra heard the the Zith mutter something unintelligible. Was the creature cursing her? Or was she addressing Dervish? "She's not very friendly," she whispered to the man, an understatement. OOCAfter serving Dervish, I'm bowing out from posting. You guys can continue it, you won't need my PC to carry on with the thread.

[Reaver]

"Kill you for scaring a barmaid? Not likely. The guard are the people the Ebonstryfe employ to... keep the peace. Usually mercenaries and other roguish folk. Even if you can handle them, there's the 'Stryfe to worry about. They aren't many, but they are all VERY powerful. Each of them touched by Rhysol, the true ruler of this city. Once you start taking from their fear, consider yourself gone." Reaver paused as the barmaid returned. She frowned a bit, the Zith made it easier on the barmaid then she was aiming for. He saw... another bold person walk up to the table and sit... He's close to human... but different. He has some traits of the other at the table. Reaver thought to herself. She smiled as the barmaid had managed to hit the new person, followed by a frown as the Zith made some strange sound. Reaver contemplated retorting to the barmaid's actions, but thought to leave it alone. "I had a passing thought, though. You probably spread fear by just looking at people, with those predator eyes of yours. Why not try and get a job as a guard? This city though, it hates things it doesn't understand. If you can get the 'Stryfe to understand you, maybe the rest of the city might back up. If your fear is adding to the fear of the guard, for example, perhaps they might not be so inclined to... do what they do to the unknown. I'd hate to see you at the bottom of the lake." Reaver looked first to the newcomer once again, and nodded. She didn't know what to make of him, but she thought to keep it short. She then looked around the room. The remainder of the bar was either REALLY drunk or trying to get there. She wondered if she should leave, before a guard with a bad idea came strolling through to prove her point. She decided to stay a touch longer, she looked more like the guard then the rest of the people here. Standing, stretching a bit, she took one of the abandoned drinks from the table, and set it on theirs. "May as well not waste it, eh?"