Open The name of the animal {Fallon}

[Ereck Darkshade]

Winter, 52nd, Year 513 Pig's Foot tavern, early evening "Look, Merv, I gave you one already. Now fork over the Hound information you got! It's not good business if you keep taking from me without giving in return. You said to wait a few days and then to come and check. Here I am. So tell me what you know." The black haired young man's eyes were flaming as he spoke to the bartender. His fists were clenched on the bar as Merv casually looked at him, his hands ever busy with wiping a mug or glass. He remained calm and just looked at the young man. He didn't have to say it, Ereck knew that he wouldn't get anything from Merv unless he paid the price Merv deemed correct. Ereck's shoulder length black hair swayed a little with his movements as he reached for his purse and pulled out a second gold Miza and smacked it on the bar counter. "There." Ereck glared daggers at the owner of the tavern as he waited for an answer. But Merv just stood and watched the young man for a bit before sliding the gold Miza into his pocket. That did it for Ereck. One hand lowered to the handle of the scythe at his belt and the other reached for Merv's shirt to pull him in. Ereck wasn't quite sure for what. To beat him? To kill him? Ereck hadn't thought that far. And he didn't get that far either. Merv, having more than enough experience in the business, held towel and mug in one hand as he whipped out a piece of wood doubling as a makeshift club from under the bar counter. Before Ereck's fingers could grasp the man's shirt the club hit him on the wrist, knocking his hand away. The next thing Ereck knew his head was on the counter with a thumping pain on the side of his head where Merv had cracked it on the counter and a pressure on his throat he immediately registered as lethal if it continued for too long. The club pressed down on his throat and kept the young man's head on the counter of the bar and prevented him from doing anything at all. "Whoa...whoa. Merv. Friend. I'm sorry." Ereck squeaked a little as the air had trouble coming out of his throat and forming the words. His hands moved up, palms outwards toward Merv. "No need for anything rash..." He lowered one hand reluctantly to his purse and pulled out another two gold, making a total of four gold Mizas that had changed owners in the span of a few moment. The pressure on his throat eased up and the club disappeared under the counter once again. Taking a few quick breaths, Ereck massaged his neck and throat with both hands. "Right, so?" He tried to make it sound casual as he looked expectantly at the old man. "There's been some new people in town, yes, but nobody interested in a guard or a guide yet. Nothing there." Ereck stared at Merv for a few passing moments before he opened his mouth and closed it again. "I paid you four... FOUR! bloody Mizas for that?! I should kill you right here and rid the world of the garbage." While his voice lend itself extremely well towards the threats and accusations he was shouting, Ereck's lithe and somewhat feminine build did not. Merv just looked at him, one hand already halfway under the counter, the towel and mug standing forgotten on the bar somewhere to his left. Ereck felt the eyes of several regulars on his person as his shouting started drawing attention. "Anything else?" Ereck managed to control his voice as he looked at Merv, plopping himself down on the barstool. His fingers curled around the mug of ale that had been in front of him all this time and he took a several gulps of the beverage before smacking the mug back on the counter, splashing some ale over his hand and the counter. "Oh, right. There was this other guy looking for the Hound. Big, muscles, tattoos. Not a local. Lots of weapons. And a woman. A talkative one. Also not local. And also weapons. Maybe they could help?" The smug smile on Merv's face pushed all the wrong buttons for Ereck again. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he stood up from the stool. "Thanks, Merv. Ya Gobshyke." While Ereck still felt anger seething under his skin, Merv just gave him a friendly smile, no longer smug, and went back to his mug cleaning. Ereck turned from the bar and headed straight for the door. The cold evening air quickly helped to cool the young man down as he trudged his way through the snow. Stupid old man with his stupid information. He had just paid four, that was about a tenth of the money he had for the entire season, gold Mizas for nothing. Empty air with no meaning and no use to the young man. His left hand gripped tightly on the handle of his scythe as he continued his way. His head was throbbing from the impact with the counter and he rubbed his fingers over it. Merv, for an old man, was still really fast and alert, Ereck had to admit. As his fingers kept caressing the sore spot on the side of his head, a small grin crept up to his lips. Stupid old man. He'd die too soon if he kept up that lifestyle. In hindsight, with the cold cooling his anger back down to it's near non-existence, Ereck realized that he hadn't really done a very good job of that. Merv never asked for too much, or only a little bit too much, at least and he'd always been friendly with Ereck, or uncaring at best. But when it came to money, Ereck often found himself struggling to keep himself in check and outbursts like these were common in relation to him spending money like that on nothing. If only his emotions considered money the same way they did killing and hurting people, uncaring, unconcerned and distant.

[Fallon]

What once only started as two names had now grown into a list. Of those who had stared into the rumours, who became a chaser through the uncertainties and looked to join the Hound. No, they had a banner to rally under now and a name she should grow to use. The Scars. It was the name that had been put upon her now, smothering that of the Sylirian Squire and leaving it in the past. But that was where it belonged now - locked away and a memory. It was for the better, it left a sour taste in her mouth.

Did it become easier to see who was working with purpose? The hunters among the crowd and faces? Perhaps, but it also helped to know who to tempt and lure out. Lips were always looser when there was an incentive - that was one fact she quickly learned in this city. It was also knowing where to look. So when the mercenary watched Merv almost pull a skinny lad across the counter, she could not help but lean in an listen. Eyes narrowed as she chewed her lips, the blunt words of the bartender.

Guy, tattoos, weapons. Woman, talkative, weapons.

Her lip broke into a curl as she listened, her hand resting in her chin as she watched. Tongues lashed - least the younger one's did whilst it lasted before he made his escape into the cold night air. Standing, Fallon slipped over to Merv, "He was a Hound hunter wasn't he?"
"Got that right."
"Excellent. Thank you," she gave only a quick respectful nod to him and followed after the lad.

Trudging through the snow Fallon pulled her layers up around her, the dulled beat of steel in upon her waist marking her foot fall. In the gloom she turned her eyes about, searching and watching for the shape of the lad with a seething temper. Shoulders hunching in she gave a quick step, sight prickling as she stared after him. For a moment she hesitated, pondering upon his intentions. Perhaps he was looking to associate himself, or perhaps he was looking to more blood hungry past times. Revenge, a fight, or something more? Either way he sounded desperate, and it was that same desperation that could be easily played upon. Fallon broke a grin.

No matter his reason, it was still to her to judge and determine them. For better or for worse.

Stalking him she gave those careful steps, light and focusing on maintaining silence. Shoulders dipped and swayed, her form stepping into the darkness of long skewed shadows and out of the light of the warm orange glow. Whether or not he realised he was being followed was beyond her, but never the less she kept a distance. Or at least until the street thinned. As the staggering, cold pubic grew less, and the rickety builds drew in closer did the mercenary prepare herself. Arms pushed the cape back tucking it behind her elbows, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of the tulwar. Taking her stand she stared upon his back.

"Hound Hunter. Chaser of rumours, follower of leads," she called out. Firm, clear, her chin lifted almost in challenge, "How is your head? Chilled from the previous heat I hope." Eyes glinted, then sharpened the once smirk falling into that of cold, hard business, "You having a hard time finding your prey? Maybe we can... help each other."

[Basek]

Up above the bustling pub, a man covered by a black cloak and hood sits upon his knees with his ear to the ground. His ear against a cone, he listens to the conversation below intently. Learning the secrets of Sunberth really was this easy, and the conversation he had discerned from the noise was quite interesting to him indeed. He, too, had heard of the hound.

He knew fully well boards beneath him in his room would creak something fierce if he moved, but he took solace in knowing that the jostling hustle and bustle beneath him would mask such an occurrence.

He hadn't yet taken initiative, but the conversation was music to his ears. Someone else would do the work for him, so that he might follow the man and lead himself to this group. From there he would decide if they were worth his time as a crew to know, or simply some people to keep an eye on for a future mark.

He knew Merv would have him out on the street if the old bartender knew what he was up to. It was his own little, fun, secret. It was worth every Miza he spent to stay at this rat hole.

Basek smiled with a satisfactory smirk when he heard Merv point out the 'new people in town' and didn't mention him. Those Mizas he had bribed the man with a long time ago still held their value after nearly two years. It was a refreshing thing to know, that Merv could be trusted as his landlord. So long as he was paid, that is.

But then Merv mentioned a big guy, and a woman. Armed to the teeth, they were. They were looking for the hound as well. He knew he couldn't be there all day to overhear everyone's conversations, but missing those two vital morsels of information sent a greedy pang into his gut. It was a secret he had to know.

But then the man said he would be leaving. Basek knew he had to act fast, to catch up to the busy man before he was lost. He went over to his closed window, cracking it open with a swift jolt of his hand. He took a quick glance to see the man exiting the tavern below him, heading off down the street. He saw he was losing his mark, and he could feel a sense of urgency.

Basek jumped over his bed with a quick hop, nearly tripping as his foot caught against the sheets, forcing him to hop on one foot towards the door to his room. He opened the door, kicking off the sheets which were now strewn across the room. He shut his door behind him, sliding a key from his pockets and locking it behind him before he quickly switched back to his main task.

He dashed down the hall, quickly descending down the stairs, each step a quick and successive tap as he rushed as fast as he could. Like a blur through the crowd, he navigated his way through the mess and soon found himself opening the door to the outside. He looked to his right, quickly observing what there was to see in the direction the man had went. There was a woman!

Was she following him, too? With this thought in mind, he began to follow her, regaining his composure as he walked. Even from here, he could easily make out the shape of her equipment. She looked to be a bit of a warrior, she had weapons. Was this the woman Merv was talking about? He could only follow in silent anticipation as he clung to the shadowy alleys as best he could, to make himself inconspicuous should she glance over her shoulder and spot her stalker.

However, his enemy became quickly apparent, an enemy that he had forgotten in his haste. The cold weather swathed over him with a biting sting. He knew he would soon grow tired, the cold had that effect on him. He didn't have much time.

He noticed the footsteps in the snow, and decided he didn't need a direct watch over the woman to follow her. He waited for a few moments outside the tavern, until the woman was somewhat out of sight before he resumed following. His eyes traced the imprints of her boots in the soft, dirtied snow.

Since she had weapons, he knew he had to be careful. He wanted to plan his escape should she approach him with hostile intentions. He kept a close eye behind him, shooting quick glances behind him to make sure he wouldn't be pinned down by any pursuing thugs should he have to make a quick getaway.

He didn't know if she had indeed noticed him, but eventually she met the one she was trailing without incidence and initiated a conversation. He saw this as he got closer, and quickly ducked behind a convenient pile of snow-ridden garbage and rotting boards against a nearby building.

Following her had paid off, now he just needed to listen. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his listening cone, hoping to overhear the conversation.

With the cone against his ear, he sat still to strain his hearing through the small device, to pick up their conversation as clearly as possible. Of course, he shifted his hood over the device partially to make sure it was hidden well enough should anyone walk by and notice the man sitting in the shadows.

But the cold, the cold was striking him even faster than he had expected. He began to shiver, shaking as he struggled to keep his listening cone level with the two. He let his teeth chatter, to take his mind off the unsettling low temperature. It took every bit of endurance he had not to drop it, and run off towards a warm fire.

[Ereck Darkshade]

As he trudged on through the muddy snow, Ereck felt the last bits of his anger die down again. He buried the useless emotion back where it had crawled up from and sealed it away in some dark corner of his mind. His fingers loosened around the handle of the scythe but he kept them touching it at all times. The sun sank behind the building and the orange glow colored the dirty snow in the street where ever the sun managed to peek through the buildings. It seemed to Ereck that it was about time for work now. With the sun sinking away, he felt more at easy, more in his element as the shadows started embracing him. The people in the street started fading away, going to their families or dinner tables or favorite watering holes in order to spend the night and get rid of the cold. Quickly rubbing his hands together against the cold, Ereck wondered when he had stopped caring about such things. At some point he had still gone home in the evening to his father to care for him and make sure he was alright. Even after his father had died, Ereck had kept up things like meal hours and taking care of the house. Not that he didn't now, it just was done on autopilot, with his mind elsewhere. It was a strange sort of sensation, to look back at one's own life with such detachment. It didn't help with Ereck's mood and his earlier grin faded away. The moment the name of his target sounded through the air from behind him, Ereck spun around on his heel, using the slippery snow under his boot to spin him quicker. His fingers were back on the handle of his scythe and he held it out defensively in front of him in his customary reverse grip. The hand scythe extended down his arm, providing it with a means of blocking attacks from armed opponents. His bent his knees slightly, lowering his center of gravity in the snow and staring with a half snarl on his lips at the person behind him. Without taking his eyes off the person his right hand moved to his belt and took the rest of the chain from the small hook, taking hold of it an arm length below the weight, letting it dangle in the air. "My head is just fine where it is. Cool and attached to my neck." Ereck looked the woman up and down, at least he figured it was a woman. She seemed rather masculine or not feminine at least. What was quite obvious, however, was the weapon she held onto on her belt. Merv's words shot to the surface of his mind. Woman, check. Talkative, somewhat check. Weapons, check. It seemed like this was the woman Merv had been talking about. Or someone taking her appearance for their own gain. Ereck didn't let go of his suspicion and kept his own weapon exactly where it was. "While I don't like your titles, I am indeed looking for the Hound, not as a hunter but out of curiosity." Ereck let his eyes slide over the woman. She seemed very sure of herself with her feet planted firmly on the ground and her hands sort of in her sides, keeping the cloak back. It was a rather silly thing to do, to uncover oneself as such, inviting in both the cold and the eyes of others. The cloak would have given her a pretty solid defense had she kept it closed. Not as a shield but as a deterrent for anyone deciding to attack her. It was never smart to attack someone when you couldn't see how many weapons were hanging from their belt. "Who might you be then? And what is your interest in the Hound and in my interest in him?" Ereck's tongue pushed through his lips as he wet them, feeling the cold sting his lips immediately. With the immediate thread not being as immediate as Ereck had first thought he started to loosen a bit. While his hand with the sickle in it remained in front of him as a shield and a weapon both, his legs straightened as he stood up. The weight dangled from the chain in his right hand as he moved it slightly, keeping it swaying back and forth, giving it a little more starting momentum should he need it. You never knew what Sunberthians were up to and capable of. If the woman decided to use her weapon, it might surprise her to find the weight embedded in her skull, introducing itself to her brain.

[Fallon]

So animated he became the moment she announced her presence. Then again she was in Sunberth, land of the paranoid. There was only a brief glance back over her shoulder, her brow creasing slightly. Was she being followed too? Was someone watching and listening in? Perhaps the feeling the locals had was beginning to rub off on her. Her brow only creased slightly, her lips pursing into a line before she returned her eyes to the Hound Hunter, "If you don't like the title, what would you have me call you then?"

A teasing tone hung there, her head tilting to one side. Letting her left arm relax the heavy material sink back across her body. For a moment she held her ground, watching the lad weigh himself up against her. How quick he was to reach for his weapon - whatever it was - and draw it. Then again, most Sunberthians were of a jumpy kind - which was why she had chosen to take a slightly more announced approach. She did not fancy having a live blade at her throat any time soon. There was a curl of the lip, her eyes burning in amusement to his questioning. Obviously he was no straight up brute - so far he had managed to show incentive and a clever mind. Questions, stalking and searching, obviously it needed refining from its current rough state. Lids pinched, her distance however remained where it was, getting closer would only aggravate him no doubt.

"Bitzer is the name I go by," she answered, her chin lifting in challenge, "Hunter of rumours and seeker of curiosities at your service." Her neck clicked and her shoulders rolled, only the darting tongue peaked its way out past her lips and into the cold air. Not that it bothered her too much. Her head gave a nod to the chain of his weapon, "Nice swinger you have there. Like to strangle people with it?" Bad tasting jokes aside she quickly continued, "You were looking for a lead if I heard correctly. Yes, I heard your ruckus in the tavern - who didn't?" Her throat cleared a single step forward, slowly and carefully lest he suddenly made a demand of her. Not that she would obey it straight away.

"So, here's my proposition," she began, "I'm looking for Hound too. Not to hunt of course, to... find acquaintanceship with shall we say? Seems a lot of people are doing that as of late anyway. Not that I'm saying you are." She broke a grin, "But... if I'm..." Fallon turned her head back to look over her shoulder again, long and hard this time, her eyes staring out into the dull night light and twisted shadows. Her hairs rose, the eyes straining in the low light. The gnawing sensation of eyes called at her, the prickling idea that someone was indeed there, watching and waiting. She shook her head, no it was nothing but her mind playing tricks, "As I was saying, let's make an exchange eh? Bit of good old fashioned team work? What you say?" There was the gentle clink as she took a second step closer, [b]"No hurt or fuss. Just knowledge. Good deal, right?"[b]

To test, to lure, to see how quickly he would snap to grab at the information. To weigh up his mentality, his willingness to partake and involve. That was her task to do and so she would perform it the best she could. And if he gave the wrong impressions to her, well, she would just have to deal with him accordingly.

[Alias Burns]

As the world swirls around me, I begin thinking they aren't showing up. I've been back here everyday for the past four days. I lower my head more, empty gaze upon the mug in front of me. With a head full of dark thoughts I begin to gather myself for the trek back to my lovely slice of tent city. "Look, Merv, I gave you one already. Now fork over the Hound information you got! It's not good business if you keep taking from me without giving in return. You said to wait a few days and then to come and check. Here I am. So tell me what you know." I squint my eyes at the escalation of sound. Who the Salak would want to announce intentions like that? Let alone in that demanding tone of voice? My eyes go back to my drink. I'll wait until this blows over. Sudden movement wouldn't be proper in this thick of air. In the corner of my eye I see the demanding man reach for his weapon and Merv's shirt in the same smooth move. I rub my temple with one hand and pretend to be busy dissecting my mug with my eyes. I was right. Is all the thought I spare to the demanding man as I watch him receive the business end of a club to his reaching hand, shortly followed by his head being smashed into the counter. "Whoa...whoa. Merv. Friend. I'm sorry." Changed his tune awfully quick. I inwardly smirk with no humor. With the tension in the air released, I gather myself and head for the entrance. The snow is worse than I remember, like always. "Ay, yuh gotta extra Miza?" I ignore the man. Stupid drunk. I smirk as dark thoughts cross my mind. fall in a hole an- I stumble over my own feet and fail to catch myself on anything, falling shoulder first into a snow bank. After struggling with my various layers of clothing, I finally get myself onto my hands and knees. There I wait for the world to stop spinning. As my stomach starts to settle I begin the ponderous movement required of me to stand. Almost standing I reach to the nearest wall to steady myself. I fall again as my hand catches nothing, but this time shoulder first into the said wall. Alright, almost there. I push myself up the wall and straighten myself. "Stupid drunk." says my own mind to myself. Echos of a life once lived touch my feelings but as I stumble to grasp them they disengage their estranglement of me. I stay put, leaning my shoulder against the wall. As my spinning senses begin to re-attain focus, I notice the demanding man from earlier stomping off away from the tavern. He is sure gripping that weapon tightly.. I'll keep my distance. I push off the wall and begin a wavering pace heading for a different route then the demanding man is taking. He must not have gotten what he asked for.. Or received it and decided it wasn't to his liking? Eh, who cares. That guy obviously cares.. In my peripheral I see quite an oddity. A window in the second story of the tavern cracked open and shut too fast for me to see anything but a figure move quickly behind it. I pause, tucking this fun fact away just as a woman opens the tavern door and hesitates there looking after the demanding man. Okay, this guy acquired a few fans. Time for me to disappear. I turn into an alley heading perpendicular to the demanding man. As I continue forward I think back to my.. ah, associates. I suppose I'll have to come back tomorrow, they may get here any day now. That man is in trouble! If they don't show by the end of the week- What are you doing! I pause to shake my head. Save him! I can't. Try! I can't- Stop blubbering damn you! That's not who I am anymore. I begin walking again. He is probably dead by now anyways.. Flashes of a brutal murder scene in a snowy alley break through my mental filter. I pause again, one hand cupping my forehead, my entire diaphragm quivering. Dead. Yeah, dead.. The gathering storm escapes. I suddenly become a flurry of action as drive floods me. I might not be too late! "-your titles, I am indeed looking for the Hound, not as a hunter but out of curiosity." It took a bit, but as I come within earshot, I sigh in relief. Not dead, still speaking. "If you don't like the title, what would you have me call you then?" says a woman's voice. "Who might you be then? And what is your interest in the Hound and in my interest in him?" I stop in my tracks.. who the Salak.. I duck into an alley, leaning only enough to peak back out. There is another guest, a person in that pile of snowy garbage. My suspicion was flagged due to how little snow had gathered on the man. He must have moved into position after the woman caught up with the demanding man. I look down the alley I'm in, then back to where the hidden figure sits. There is an alley that comes out closer to him.. I disappear into the depths of the alley. "Bitzer is the name I go by, Hunter of rumours and seeker of curiosities at your service." answers the woman. I'm making way too much noise.. This snow.. I stand not ten feet from the hiding man. I've been slowed to a crawl due to my aching nerves. I take another step, followed by another.. "So, here's my proposition," This "Bitzer" began, "I'm looking for Hound too. Not to hunt of course, to... find acquaintanceship with shall we say? Seems a lot of people are doing that as of late anyway. Not that I'm saying you are." She pauses before continuing. I clamp my hand over the hiding man's mouth. "SHhh.." He struggles! I fall from my low crouch to sitting position with a audible woofth of the snow."But... if I'm..." I hold my breath, eyes wide staring into the other man's eyes, pleading for caution. After a length of silence, "As I was saying, let's make an exchange eh? Bit of good old fashioned team work? What you say?" There was the gentle clink as she took a second step closer to the demanding man, "No hurt or fuss. Just knowledge. Good deal, right?" "What are you doing here? Why are you following these two?" I whisper. OOC : I went a little further than I meant to.. PM me and I'll edit if anyone has a problem! (Is there some missing dialog? That is because Alias was out of earshot, or couldn't make out those words.) Basek: I assumed you were too captivated by your eavesdropping to notice my terrible sneaking

[Basek]

The dithering snow clung to Basek's hood as he listened in on the conversation intently. The two immediately met, and he listened as the exchanged leads. The sounds came in clearly to his ear through the hidden listening device under his hood. He heard every word.

Idle trivialities flew from corner to corner as the verbal ring grew heated and tense. But then they quickly grew into something more.

"Bitzer is the name I go by," came the girl's voice. Isn't that the name of a horse? Basek suddenly thought.

"You were looking for a lead if I heard correctly."

This was it, the promised lead. He listened intently as he breathed in with anticipation, the cone in his ear angled so precariously in their direction. But then it happened, the crunching of snow. To his right, a man came-a-crawling forwards.

Basek shot a glance at him, and saw that the man was walking towards him. What was more, he was hobbling, out in the open! His position would be given away soon, he had to think fast. The man's footing was terrible, lurching forward as if diseased or drunk.

Then the assailant tumbles forward, hand outstretched to try and reach for his mouth. Basek springs to his feet in a brief moment of terror, causing a flurry of garbage and snow to tumble around everywhere. A board falls atop the man. "Shyke!" He mumbles. He leans forward into a quick step on top of the board before leaping off it to begin his run away from the trio.

Every stretching repetition of his legs sent fire through his body as he ran as fast as he possibly could. He nearly stumbled as he turned the corner, but regained his balance with a well aimed brace from his right foot being shot outward.

His cover blown, he had no choice but to abandon the operation. He would find a lead soon, but this day would not be the one. He didn't look back as he ran, intending to head back to the Pig's Foot tavern and collect his thoughts.

[Basek has left the thread]

(OOC: Having trouble coming up with ideas for Basek. Writer's Block has been particularly difficult lately.)

[Ereck Darkshade]

Ereck regarded the woman in front of him. He wasn't sure what to think of her. She didn't seem very strong or dangerous to Ereck, yet something told him to keep his distance from her, should she decide to attack him. It was an uneasy and new feeling for the young man. Ereck thought for a moment at her question. There was no problem with telling her his name yet Ereck didn't feel like telling her. There was a reason why people kept their identities secret in Sunberth. Like the Hound was doing now. And like the Night Eyes had been doing already for so very long. Ereck stood in silence for a few moment before he finally brought forth an answer. "People call me Shade. Or Scythe, depending on how we met." He looked intently at the woman, to see how she'd react. Nobody had ever called him either of those but now was as good a time as any to get his nickname going. At some point he would get famous and he'd need a good handle to go with that fame. Shade and Scythe both sounded good to him. His face remained unmoved, his eyes constantly on the woman. His mind registered the name, Bitzer, as somewhat odd. Yet he linked her face to it and stored it away in some shelf of his mind, ready to use it whenever necessary. Most of the movements around him were filtered out. Some drunk swaggering across the snow, another guy moving over a nearby trash heap, Ereck pushed them out of his focus, keeping only the tiniest speck of focus on them, leaving the rest of it for the woman. His entire being became alert to her, even if he was standing seemingly relaxed in front of her. Ereck immediately came to a conclusion about the woman. She liked the sound of her own voice quite a bit. And on top of it she seemed to enjoy talking down to Ereck. He bit his teeth together as he watched her, his lips betraying his annoyance for her. And then she moved forward and Ereck's entire body tensed up. One step and he already felt threatened by the woman. The same unfamiliar and uneasy feeling overcame Ereck. Something primal was telling him to not stay where he was, lest his meager existence would end tonight. But he pushed it aside and buried under the same pile of nothingness where he had previously stuck his anger at Merv as well. He pushed it down and willed his body not to move, resulting in a twitch along his left hand, arm and neck. For the rest he remained tense and still. He listened to her, intently once she dropped the Hound name and mentioned that she was looking for him as well. There was a chance here, for more information. He realized it would cost him something. It always did in Sunberth. Money, most likely. Or perhaps he could offer her something different, a sliver of information he had obtained that she hadn't yet. An exchange. He had no real idea how to go about it though, several problems immediately popping into his head as he tried to work it out. When the woman suddenly stopped talking and turned to look behind her, Ereck's eyes followed her gaze towards nothing but snow and some random people walking the streets. Then her attention was back on him. Ereck watched her, tried to weigh her worth in his mind. Not only her martial prowess, but if she was bluffing on having any info on the Hound. If she pulled a Merv on her and gave him nothing but useless scraps while he paid a small fortune for it, he would have been duped twice in one day. "No hurt or fuss. Just an exchange of information." Ereck's voice had that natural dark edge to it that, when in his Night leather outfit, made him seem more dangerous. Outside of his night leather outfit, however, the voice seemed as misplaced as a full purse lying untouched in a Sunberth street. "What can you tell me about the Hound, Bitzer?" Ereck continued as he tasted the name from his own lips. Saying it didn't make it fit any better with the woman. She didn't look like a Bitzer at all. Maybe a Mary or Elizabeth but not a Bitzer. The cold wind cut through Ereck's thoughts about the woman's name and focused him back on the now. Slowly, he brought his hands together and passed the weight and chain to his left hand. He hooked the hand scythe back on his belt and started looping the chain onto it as well, his hand moving slowly and his eyes never leaving the woman's face. If both parties stuck to the agreement of "no hurt, no fuss" Ereck's weapon would remain where it was. But just to be on the safe side, the youth kept his left hand on his belt at all times, his fingers always touching the chain or handle of the sickle.

[Fallon]

"Shade, how ominous," the voice darkened in like, turning from a purr to husky growl. There was silence, her eyes searching and watching, the gentle rolling of shoulders as they kept themselves relaxed and subtle. There was no need to have the cold sink its fangs into her flesh just yet. Feet sunk themselves into the snow, her head tilting to one side in thought. She said nothing more after that, simply allowing the accompanying silence to continue. There was no words to this standoff, no whispers or hums into the night sky.

Exhaling she stared, the hand resting on the tulwar hilt and her eyes flickering to and fro. He was guarded, or at least was trying to be. That was the impression she got from his short snappy answers in comparison to her own. That or he was filled with the nervous energy and the nagging worries as to her very nature. There was a blink, the lip curling in amusement as he tensed up. Fear, that nagging call to flee. The guard against the unknown, would she help or would she not?

Well, as long as he did not try anything funny she would cooperate a little bit. No use spilling out all she knew without knowing more on his suitability. To weigh him up, to see how much and how far he wanted to go. Determination, pressing, urgency, how far he would tip himself over the edge just to know - let alone join. There was the groan of steel in its sheath, the low mumbling of voices of the people in the distance. She had heard something was the resounding, nagging thought that danced upon the back of her mind. It was a set distraction, one that would keep on playing against her until either it was answered or they moved on. Meet the paranoia and solve it, don't leave it eating away at her core. To give room for exploitation was not a good one.

Frightening or dangerous, was not the dress of black leathers or tone of voice. Frightening was being out of control, to be pressed and unable to fight back. To be left vulnerable in the hands of another and left in their care. To be run through with the blade of your loved one, to be held upon the brink and your wits end. This? This was not frightening, at least not to her. Nor was it particularly dangerous to her either - he had done no harm yet, so what was there to worry about? So, with her features falling to that of a blank, unmoving canvas of profession, the mercenary began. She had control at the moment, the flow of information the words that could or could not be useful to him under her hand.

Lips parted into a wolfish grin, the eyes burning bright. This was going to be fun. An unknown against and unknown, each teasing and tempting the other into submission. Maintain the upper hand, lead around and leave him wondering for more. Either way he was hooked now, even with his guard up.

"Depends on what you want to know about the Hound," toes flexed in her boots, "I doubt you'd want to know their favourite colour." The husky tone continued, lower tones rumbling out. She let the words sink for a moment, "Well, apparently their gathering. Looking for the mustering to get change, guess you know that much. The Hound is trying to get people together, forming them into a gang who wants change in Sunberth. Least, that's word on the street. Going to guess that was more of the information you were after." She gave a shrug, it was up to him now, "Your equivalent exchange Shadow Lad?"

oocSo as Basek has dropped out the post order would now be; Ereck, Fallon and then Alias. Also, Alias as a note, it's preferred on Mizahar that people write in the third person instead of the first.

[Alias Burns]

As I reach for his mouth he suddenly springs to his feet, toppling the pile of refuse. He somehow gets through the falling pile in a blur of motion. I, on the other hand, get swathed in crap. I curse as a beam that had been precariously leaned against the wall hits my shoulder causing me to collapse as the rest of the garbage slides out to cover about half of me. I lay there for a good moment in full knowledge that my position had been given away, though I can't remember why it matters.. I begin to gather my bearings when it clicks. Where'd that man go? With a rather large grunt, I roll the beam off of me and pull myself from the pile of refuse while trying to look for the stalker man. I wrench my hand to cover the searing pain in my shoulder as I stand. As I try to refrain from jarring the left side of my body, I notice the man and woman from earlier still down the way. "-ell me about the Hound, Bitzer?" The man finishes in a dark tone. They are still talking? Never mind commotion in Sunberth. Well, works in my favor this time. "Shade, how ominous," The woman says in a mockup of the tone of voice he used. "Depends on what you want to know about the Hound, I doubt you'd want to know their favourite colour." I begin shambling towards them. "Well, apparently their gathering. Looking for the mustering to get change, guess you know that much. The Hound is trying to get people together, forming them into a gang who wants change in Sunberth. Least, that's word on the street. Going to guess that was more of the information you were after." many a person has attempted change in this place. Salak, I came for change, if not towards the city. I push away my skepticism in place of the unknown as I proceed. "Your equivalent exchange Shadow Lad?" As I get closer I can't help but ask myself why am I here? Tell them of the fool stalker. Warn them. I stumble over my thoughts for a moment. As I attempt to pierce the clouds of my mind, without a thought towards how I may explain my presence, or what they might do to me, I call out. "Hey! You may want to convene matters of business in a more private setting. Just now I stumbled upon some finicky person stalking you." A grin comes to my face at my success, I didn't slur my words.