A meeting of empty pockets [Crawlers (you know who you are)]

[Vitalos Umbreffigia]

At the mention of clowns, Vitalos immediately stiffens, his expression becoming dour, something that was did not seem a foreign expression, though it was purely an act.

"I am not a clown. Clowns are horrible, frightening creatures, designed to drill fear of make-up and brightly-colored clothing into simple-minded youth. In other words, they are society's attempt to subliminally promote misogyny. And they are fat."

His grimness fades, however, as Emma begins to bang her head on the table. He immediately brightens and begins to follow the action, at first with his eyes, then by swaying his head slightly, then by moving his entire body so his eyes were kept level with her hat. As soon as she stops, he inches closer, lifting his hand with subtle precision and, in one darting motion, flicks one of the faux ears of her cap a single, deliberate time. His attention quickly diverts, however, to her gaze, and he follows it back to the bigger man, clearly the largest of the group.

"Oh! New person!"

He leaps to his feet and extends his hand.

"Hullohullo! I'm Vitalos Umbreffigia, but you can just call me Vit. I see you know my good pal Griff. It's good to meet you!"

He notes movement behind him, then waves over the barmaid.

"Excuse me! I'd like a glass of water, a glass of milk, and a mug of ale. Oh! And do you want anything Koh-rin?"

He smiles cheerily at the gruff man, then flashes a glance in Griffith's direction.

"She seemed upset about her hair falling in her face, so she pulled it out, but then more fell in front of her face, so she started banging her head against the table. You should've seen it; it was adorable! Not the banging, I mean; the hat. It kept swaying back and forth, like a red-headed woman in a satin blue dress dancing on the lip of the Bluevein waterfall of the second-tier in a moonlit night."

Vitalos pauses, frowning. Now, where had that image come from? He had conjured it up out of nothing. Or seemingly nothing. It seemed so vivid in his head, but... Damn it, now he'd lost it. He snaps back to attention.

"Now, where was I... Oh, right!"

He turns back to Korin, a question in his arched brows.

[Korin]

As Korin sits at the table he notices the female Kelvic, Emma, as Griffith just told him, seems to be banging her head into the table.

She is our boss... I like her, it looks like this is going to be fun is the thought that runs through Korin's mind as he looks at the little Kelvic bang her head against the table.

Korin is soon distracted by the other man, Vitalos, as he jumps up and gives a very enthusiastic introduction. Korin watches with an amused grin as he then quickly looses focus on the large Kelvic, then, as he shifts his gaze back, Korin rises, and grasps his hand saying,"Its nice to meet you, I'm Korin. Griffith tells me you are a fighter, I am to." Releasing Vitalos' hand the large Kelvic then says, "I wouldn't mind a nice mug of ale right now."

[Emma]

Emma, while the others introduced themselves, continued to bang her head off of the table in frustration, until Griffith interposed his hand. Then she just banged her head off of that. After all, it conveyed her frustration just as well and let it get out of her system without as much pain. It really was quite the funny sight, watching Griffith try to stop the Kelvic from hurting herself while Vitalos mimed the situation next to her and the mountain of a man named Korin watched as though it were not at all an odd situation. Of course, this situation only lasted for a second or so.

Griffith's question of if she was alright set into motion a string of small events. The immediate result was Emma ceasing her motion with a sigh, then lifting her head to look at her first ally (who she was already considering as a sort of second-in-command), smiling her foolish smile and scratching the base of her skull with her left hand. She had just opened her mouth to speak, seemingly oblivious to the slowly fading red mark on her forehead, when Vitalos flicked one of her hat's "ears". Immediately she froze, and her expressions lowly went from the giggling, entertained child to an expression that would have others thinking murder was in the near future, though Vitalos, the cause of this, could not see it as she was back-to to him.

Seconds passed, With introductions still being passed between Vitalos and Korin, and it was just as the Lion Kelvic finished his statement that Emma's left hand suddenly shot out, the gloved had finding a fist-full of long, blue hair, and rather forcefully pulling an un-expecting Vitalos back into the booth, her eyes shut, a vein standing out on her forehead. Raising her right hand in a fist before her, she spoke softly, her tone menacing.

"You flicked my hat. You flicked i- why would you flick my hat? Do you know what happens to people who touch my hat?"

Suddenly, she turned her head, Opening her eyes. The pupils were barely visible slits, her teeth grinding together now, further illustrating her irritation. She quickly Cocked her arm to punch, when something happened that might have very well saved Vitalos a black eye. The stray lock of hair fell back into her face. Immediately, her eyes fixed on it, pupils widening slightly as she reached up to brush it aside with her free hand, but to no avail, as it immediately returned to it's place. Again, she tried to brush it back, and again, she failed. The strand seemed to have consumed her attention entirely, and she now released Vitalos's hair, just so she could use her left hand now to try and comb the unruly hair behind her ear. It again fell back, and her rage now returned, focused on her own dead cartilage. she was suddenly a blur of motion, hands flying every which way as she tried to fix her hair. When the dust cleared, the hair was back, and the giddy smile returned for a second. Then it fell back in her face. Immediately, Emma assumed a pouty face, eyes wide and watering slightly as she let her head droop.

[Vitalos Umbreffigia]

Vitalos' eyes widen in surprise as he is yanked back by his lengthy locks. He only has time to let out a small "meep" before he is tugged back into the booth. He stares up at Emma, who was clearly about to inflict bodily harm. Vitalos reacted the way any sensible person would. He ordered the drinks. After all, chances were that he'd need them - both to dull his pain and to calm some nerves.

"Two mugs of ale, a glass of water and a glass of milk, please."

The waitress nodded and ran off hurriedly - clearly about to tell her superiors of the brewing brawl that was imminent. Vitalos returned his attention to Emma, now all business. She didn't seem to be much of an unarmed combatant, but he shouldn't take her lightly; Kelvics could pack punches, and he knew that first hand. If she threw it, well... He wasn't in much of a position to fight back. But he could block with his left, hopefully catch her fist and twist into a position where she'd have to let go. If not, a quick sit up and an elbow back to her forearm to jar her grip. He wanted to stop this fight as soon as possible and get into a position where he could reason with her - on equal terms, for in any other position he'd be begging, and he wasn't the begging type.

You know, you wouldn't be in this mess if you'd just cut your hair once in a while...

Still, she let go easily enough, distracted by - of all things - her hair. Vitalos instantly sat up and twisted into a position to face her, his expression serious - though not unforgiving. He frowned at her, then turned to Griffith and began to dole out orders. He had a slight air of command - though it was by no means a particularly compelling one.

"Alright. Griff, stay as you are. If the staff comes to see what's up, tell them it's a slight argument; I tampered with something important to her, but she has agreed to restrain herself if I don't do it again. Hopefully it won't be far from the truth."

He turns to the other Kelvic, still standing, imposing, next to the table.

"Korin, sit down. If you stand there, it looks like you're on edge. It'll easily be mistaken for tension among us. Don't worry; your ale will be here soon and all will be well."

Now time for the hard part.

"Emma. Look at me. Alright, I'm sorry I flicked your hat. My mistake; it won't happen again. But surely you can see that it was an honest fault, and that there was no intent, malicious or otherwise, beyond amusement. I apologize, Emma. However, you must understand that if we're all traveling together, tensions can and will be on edge. You, as our employer, must be able not only to mediate situations, but also avoid their escalation. Threatening violence does neither; it only risks our getting kicked out of the tavern."

He lifts his hands in a warding gesture.

"Now, I won't touch your hat or any other part of you without your permission again. But you can't be so testy when someone irks you. Give me a warning first. Then you can start hitting me, and it'll be justified. Now, your milk'll be here soon. Anything else you want? It's on me."

He leans back in his seat, drawing a breath. He doubted it would bubble into anything more than it was now. There was, however, the strong possibility that Emma wouldn't take kindly to his deal with her, and think of it as "orders." If that happened, well... He'd have to take a back seat and let Griffith mediate this.

You understand, don't you, that your own child-like antics could possibly start a tavern brawl and lose your chance to get out of this damned city.

...Worth it.

[Emma]

OOC: lol, she wouldn't ever actually succeed in breaking him. I just thought it would be funny. I can see him doing this during any social encounter and Griff holding her back.

[Vitalos Umbreffigia]

OoC: I know. I'm not taking it seriously. But Vit is. Hence.

[Mindi]

With the crowd of the tavern quickly dissipating, it would seem like the perfect opportunity for Mindi to wander inside and grab a bite, this, however, was not her only motive. From the moment the girl stepped into the tavern, she may look like no more than a mere child. From head to toe she was dressed in a large black robe, hiding all but the tips and heels of her thick brown boots. Her arms were folded together across her chest so that the enormous baggy sleeves concealed her hands, wrists, and all completely. Her face was mostly hidden by shadow, and the majority of her forehead, eyes, and neck was concealed by the combination of large hood and facing the floor. Inside those sleeves, Mindi held a flyer, one of the people here had posted it across town, and she was curious at least, and at best wanted to join for a much different reason than chasing gold and treasure.

The young woman, which meant she was young for her own race, in counting in human years she was already halfway to being old and decrepit, did not approach the group, but instead took a place at the bar itself, trying to place herself within earshot of their conversation, but not too close to draw attention. Even though she didn't exactly fit in with a five foot long black robe anyway. She looked the part of a religious woman, unorthodox for sure, but religious none the less.

Mindi's back was facing the group as the chattered and discussed 'clowns', she listened but caught no wind of anything she was interested in hearing, and when Chell, the woman serving behind the bar, came up and greeted the Isurian woman, Mindo smile and spoke softly. "I'll just have some wine please." Food, maybe later, for now she was just going to drink a little, and when I say little, I mean she will probably sip the cheap wine and never consume another drop for three days.

Mindi was curious as to what these people really had in mind. Sure, the flier mentioned money, which could and would lure all sorts of curious and empty-pocketed people around, but Mindi was not so shallow nor desperate. She wanted to know just what would be found. Perhaps nothing of gold value, but of religious value. A piece of stone inscribed by Izurith or an ancient weapon carved by his own hands, or even some sort of book, scroll, or scrawling of paper written by Rek'keli herself. Mindi knew both were unlikely as best, but, what if it were possible? But what exactly would she learn if she stood over there by herself. She had to investigate.

Mindi, as soon as she was served a large pitcher of cheap wine, took the container and stormed over to the group. Her footsteps echoing out from under her five foot body like a full grown Akalak man. There was something that didn't quite match up. She gently placed the pitcher on their table and moved to remove her hood with her right arm, which was easily identified as Isurian, assuming any of them knew what that meant. With hood pulled back, Mindi's face was revealed. Long blue-black hair was lying straight behind her, reaching down towards the center of her back. The veins running through the skin like shining silver, the skin itself have an uncommon strength, and the right arm, thick with a blue color (more distinct and stronger than the faint blue covering her entire body) looked almost like pure steel, and was about as strong, if not stronger. Mindi did not smile nor frown, just stared at the Kelvic, the one that seemed more in tune with her feline side than that of her human body. She watched with very little expression as she bashed her face against the man's hand, and she concluded that she was, most likely, the eldest of the small group.

From her robe's sleeve, Mindi withdrew a worn piece of parchment and unrolled it, Emma would (or should, perhaps her head-banging left her incapable of recognizing anything for moments) recognize the paper as her flier, the one searching for assistance. Mindi read it, but was not satisfied, she wanted to hear from them (she was unsure which was the leader) their exact plans and goals. If it seemed the slightest bit sacrilegious, she would turn from them and leave without the slightest hint of hesitation, though should it seem a chance for her to prove herself to Rak'keli and/or Izurith she'd be more than happy to join. Mindi, pulling her gaze from the masochistic cat-woman, glanced towards Griffith, assuming he held some possibility for the role of leadership here. "What are you looking for?" Mindi's voice was quite soft, much in contrast to the horrifying glare she offered the group.

The flier dropped to the table next to the pitcher of cheap wine she purchased and it slowly began to curl up again, Mindi's stern gaze remained locked on Griffith, searching into his eyes as if trying to read his heart, and not the faintest sign of humor seemed to exist in spite of the self-mutilating Emma or Griff's poor attempt to halt her actions so close. Mindi was sizing him up, even though he clearly stood taller than her, she had to gamble she was physically stronger, it WAS an Isurian trait after all.

[Griffith]

OoCWell, Griff wouldn't hold her back at this point... but if it'd come to blows, he'd have put up a screen of Reimancy between the two. Emma wouldn't touch the stuff, and Vit would be so surprised that it'd actually work... And then Griff would have had explaining to do. Oh well. Fun explanation of Reimancy for later. Also, use tags like these in the future for OoC commentary; breaks the flow for Storytellers reviewing the thread. The command is (without the [ ]) ooc=OoC and /ooc.

Griffith watched the Kelvic girl continue to mash her head against whatever surface happened to be there - table or hand - before rolling his eyes. She was just interested in relieving frustration, it seemed. Well, at least she wasn't running such a big risk of hurting herself now.

The Benshira was resigned to letting her outburst run its course when she suddenly stopped, looking up at him and giving that too-wide smile he was getting the impression he would forevermore associate only with Emma. He found himself giving her his customary small smile in return. Finicky. Headstrong. Infectious, now.

He opened his mouth to say something at the same time she did, but then several things happened. The first was that Vitalos flicked Emma's false ear. Griffith could have told his friend that the move could generally be regarded as a bad idea. Kelvics - of the feline variety, at least - were touchy. Unless you were trying to provoke one, it seemed you were best off trying not to give them a reason to be angry. And the look that started to steal over Emma's face told the mage it was too late to prevent that. He heard his friend's explanation for the Kelvic's frustration, but it was distant, at best.

"Um... Vit..." was all the warning he got out before Emma's hand shot out, grabbing hold of the Human's hair and yanking him back. The Benshira needed to see little more to anticipate the possibility of a brawl. His right hand dropped beneath the table, still visible to Korin. An ethereal, azure gas began to creep from the digits, forming into an orb suspended in the air over his palm.

He couldn't rush the production of the Res. Avoiding overgiving was his primary motive when using his magic. He didn't want to use it at all if he didn't have to. Vitalos would wonder why he'd kept such a secret, and the tavernmaster might not appreciate magic enough to overlook its use. Yet, if he erected a screen of it between Emma and Vitalos, the Kelvic wouldn't touch it, and his fellow trainee might be so surprised that he'd cease any would-be fighting as well.

The use of magic was swiftly proven to be unnecessary, however, and Griffith breathed a bit easier. Vitalos had grown up amongst the Akalak. If the mage had discipline in spades, then the martial artist had it right down to his bones. The situation was quickly diffused. The younger man started handing out orders, of all things. The wizard was uncertain how Emma meant to take that.

The scholar turned his head, meaning to get a fix on how the staff was taking the news of a potential brawl, only to find his view blocked by a rather short - albeit imposing - figure, swathed in black and standing at the foot of the table. The impression was ruined - ever so slightly - by the pitcher of wine the silhouette set gently upon the table. When the individual had successfully caught his eye, it reached up to pull its hood back. "It" was really a woman, and said woman's face - in addition to the revealed part of her arm - was covered in what seemed to be silver scars. The magician recognized her kind from books. Isurian, unless those drawings were inaccurate. Right down to the arm.

Moreover, Griffith knew next to nothing about their kind. But that flier told him that she was here about treasure-hunting. It took him another moment to realize she had spoken. Spoken to him, of all people. He sat up a bit straighter, though his right hand remained beneath the table, still holding that orb of Res he hadn't been sure what to do with. The arrival of someone new - someone unknown - made him rethink simply reabsorbing it. "I think that answer is up to the individual," he told her. "But the person you should talk to would be her," he directed, tilting his head towards Emma, who was sitting to his left.

[Korin]

After grasping Vitalos' hand, the man is suddenly pulled down into the booth. Korin's eyes wander down to the Emma, who looks like she is about to attack the larger Vitalos. Underneath the table, a blue glow surrounds Griffith's hand, Korin notices out of the corner of his eyes.

Reimancy, it seems to be Griffith's answer to everything...

As soon as the situation started, it ended. Emma was quickly re-distracted by her hair, and Vitalos, attempting to calm, or maybe control the situation, started telling everyone what to do. When Korin hears Vitalos tell him to sit down he looks over at the smaller man, laughs and says, "I am not one to stand when I don't have to."

Sitting down, Korin leans over to Griffith and whispers, quietly, so no one else can hear, "Be careful, even I know not to use magic for everything, you might scare people."

Looking past Griffith, Korin sees a new arrival, another small girl, carrying a very interesting pitcher, of what appears to be wine. Korin lets out another large laugh.

[Emma]

It was lucky for Vitalos that Emma was, once again, too distracted by her own predicament to really listen to him. Very lucky. Very, very lucky. Maybe he should go and place a hefty bet on a long shot in a fight. Emma didn't take orders well, to say the least, especially after some of her own personal experience. It was probably the reason she had never bonded to anyone. She saw such a strong attachment to any of another species as a weakness, and as agonizing as it could be by instinct, she refused to ever pursue a human she began to bond to.

Emma remained completely oblivious to Vitalos's barking of orders, as well as to Griffith's Res floating just beneath the table, which would have gotten him out of the group in a heartbeat. Emma had a love-hate relationship with all magic, and while she found it fascinating, she hated herself for that fact. Compared to these two facts, the concept that a woman walking over loudly with a flier could suddenly snap the cat Kelvic from her trance-like self-pity was rather interesting.

At the sound of the soft voice, Emma's head snapped up, her eyes wide as she looked for the source, immediately finding it. An Isurian? She'd seen a few, even worked with a couple. But she'd never seen a female of the species. That gave this person the flair of a new adventure or experience Emma craved so constantly, and without warning she vaulted over the table. Immediately, she was next to the holy woman, shaking the Isurian's right hand by grasping the back of it with her left. As soon as she had done that, she began to circle her curiously, hands on the stouter woman's shoulders to balance herself as she inspected the cloak, ears and nose twitching, seeking some new smell or sound to associate with her. All the while, she spoke excitedly.

"Hi, I'm Emma. That's my flier. It's nice to see another girl here finally. Say, I've never seen someone like you before. I mean, I've seen Isurians, and I've obviously seen women, bot never an Isurian woman. I was starting to think you might be like Akalaks. Not you, specifically, but you know what I mean. Here, sit, sit! Everyone sit. Let's get this under way."