Closed [The Quay] We drink, and drink, and drink some more

[Gideon]

“She had the most shapely aft this side o’ the Suvan, mate. And when she unfurled her sails, ugh! A sailor’s shore dream...Hey! You even listenin’?”

The slap of a callused palm against his right shoulder dismantled Gideon’s concentration of the clustering of people before him, eyes blinking back the hawkish glare he’d been casting as he straightened his spine and favored the one talking to him with an apprehensive gaze, hand resting carefully on the pommel of the sword he had been unwilling to part with. “I… I sorry, friend. It just… people.”

The half empty mug of amber ale held twixt his scarred fingers was examined for the umpteenth time that night, its amber contents sloshing about as he rotated it nervously in his hand. Gideon didn’t much care for social gatherings. He didn’t much care for people in general, truth be told. The individual was pleasant enough, and small company could be appreciated. But to have so many in one locale made the hunter wish to crawl out from under his own skin.

He had come only at the behest of an old acquaintance, someone whose opinion of the world seemed aligned closely with his own. Of course, at the time of the invitation, Gideon had thought this to extend no further beyond a small huddle of recognizable faces and tamed revelry. What he observed of this particular gathering was well on its way to a bedlam of debauchery--at least from his perspective.

The callused hand from before met with his shoulder again, this time more gentle in its delivery and prolonged in duration. Furrowing his brow, the southerner turned his chin to find a flask being offered to him, glancing past it briefly to see the face of the sailor he’d been carrying on minced conversation with. “Here, drink this. I promise. It’ll make everything right with the world, mate.”

Gideon’s nose scrunched towards the bridge where strands of soot colored hair were brushed back, head shaking involuntarily as every instinct bade him refuse. “No. No. That no good. Need watch. Need show caush...care.”

The sailor’s lips twisted wryly, his insistence not so easily cowed by the hesitation shown in the other. He pushed the flask into his chest, and gave a falsely plaintive look. “Mate, you need to live a little. Stop with all this serious, dark, broody bullshyke. No one likes those kinds of bastards.”

“How you know I bastard?”

“That,” the sailor sighed, “isn’t what I meant. You’re craven. You’re--”

“How dare…”

“Shut yer yap and listen for a tick, Laviku almighty!” The exasperated tones led to a more forceful grip of the hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “Y’take life too seriously, y’understand? You’re afraid of lettin’ go, when lettin’ go is all it takes for you to live. No harm’ll come to yeh tonight, that I promise. Truth is mate, none of us are in control, savvy? We’re just playthings of the gods. So why not, y’know, play?”

Gideon’s lips pursed, fighting back the urge to drag their discussion on into a quarrel, but knowing it was neither man’s true intent. Still, his honor felt somewhat mistreated, hand setting down the mug as it grasped the flask poised against his chest instead. Uncorking its top, he stared daggers at the sailor before tipping the drink back and letting it flow willingly between his lips.

It was...revolting at first. Fire branded his tongue and churned all the way down to his stomach, collapsing his throat for a moment as he sputtered and gagged for air. The sailor could only watch in amusement, a dry laugh echoing off the stone walls of The Quay. “There he goes! More! More!”

The hunter shook his head, wiping the spittle away from the bottom of his lip with dirtied sleeve and continuing to cough. The insistence of the other became a steady push along the bottom of the flask however, coaxing it towards Gideon’s lips until there was no choice left but to drink or be drenched. Tilting his head back once more, eyes wringing from the sheer bite of it, the contents flowed until there was nothing left to show for it except a clearly distraught, hacking man, and one empty flask.

The sailor patted his newly found drinking partner along his back when he keeled over, Gideon’s hands dropping to his knees while he gasped for precious air. “What the petch in that?!” he spluttered.

“Something we use to clean the hull when she’s weighted down by barnacles, lad!”

Gideon’s expression paled, eyes drawing wide with the despairing thought that he might have just been poisoned. The sailor’s laughter only intensified at witnessing it, assisting the other to stand upright and clapping him once more along the back. “Only teasin’ ya lad. It’s rum, albeit a bit more potent. Enjoy yourself, and remember what I said!”

Latching his hand to one of the tables that had been set out for the festivities, Gideon could feel the world slowly begin to spin around him. And yet despite a perilous view of the world, everything around him seemed more pleasant and untroubled by the thoughts which had kept him so focused, and admittedly, uptight before.

A smile creased his crooked lips as Gideon made his way towards the thrall of guests, completely at peace with the fact that he was wandering headlong into one of his deepest fears.

[Fallon]

There was a chuckle, the hum of amusement as the little group Fallon had fallen into the chatter of storytelling and repeating of grand tales. Which was an advantage in some regards, it slowed her consumption for one - she barely managed to take up a slurping mouthful before she was forced to continue due to anticipation - allowing her to remain mostly observant to what was going on about her. New faces, old slightly more familiar ones and then the close. It appeared all sorts of Sunberth had appeared, though she poked it more to be the close local population who resided close to the Quay instead of the other, further inland side of the city. Regardless, she maintained the rough voiced tones of the Bitzer persona, a flicker of her gaze as she looked among the faces.

"Alright, alright!" she barely managed to get another sip in, "Don't rush me. I'm continuing. So, where was I... Yes!" She summoned the image within her mind, the burning memory of the past as she summoned forth her own experiences and weaved them into tales that seemed only far-fetched at the best of times. It was upon one of the tables she had perched, the pitcher of ale going round between the others who listened upon the bench opposite, "Our heroine of the tale! I forget of such details... that was her name, Fallon. Anyway, as I was saying..." she gave a wiggle of the fingers, the faint clink as she pointed the tip to them, "Fallon fancied herself an adventurer. Though, reality dictated that she was merely just a scholar - yes, the learned sort, but you'd think with such brains that she would lack the foolishness that made one travel. But that is the way things would be."

"So there she was, stuck with one of those knightly folk and squire. Might have had some element of safety sure, but that didn't stop the wilde bandits of the forest. No-sir-ee!" Another brief swig, her gaze caught a flicker of Zandelia, the green-blue orbs following before she snapped her attention back down to what was before her, "It was with a strike that the bandits grabbed them whilst on the road. The knightly knight falling down like a sack, her squire following shortly and our rather failing scholar collapsing unto a heap with them. And as the colours faded into night, where they dragged back to camp, and held there for gods knows what."
"What then?" one of the younger ones chirped up, eyes wide with interest.
"What then indeed! Well as our heroine began to stir, the bindings tight upon her wrists, the others in a similar sorry state did the bandit leader grace himself with his presence, and in his great voice he said..." she cleared her throat, focusing as she summoned up a squeaking, lisping voice in a poor mockery of imitation, "Well, wook wike yer all awake. Don't worry, going to be swavery for you lot soon!"

A mocking gasp escaped her lip, feigning shock whilst laughter escaped. She gave a clink of the tankard with another but shook her head when a refill was offered, "What was our heroine to do? She had to escape of course! So with a wriggle to the left, and a wriggle to the right, and then back to the left did she pull and pull upon her bindings. The knight had a similar idea by the looks of things, and so as the Bandits settled for the night did the three of them spring free..." A long glug, she needed it, "Chaos insured! A fight was upon the hands as they were discovered! Without a moment to loose, and barely a grasp upon their weapons did knight, squire and scholar flee. Quick as anything they grasped upon the horses of the bandits, a mighty slap upon their rumps and with that they rode off into the night never to be found..." She sighed, relaxed now the story had ended, and it was with a small nod she smiled, "And that, is that. Now, if you excuse me, ladies, gents and small persons. I must be doing the rounds. Feast! Be merry whilst I am gone!"

With a clamber up and away, Fallon slid off into the crowd, bobbing and weaving slightly in the direction Zandelia went. Tankard still within her grasp, there was pivot as she brushed shoulders with another - barely registering that they were male - and gave a gleeful shout, "Enjoy yourselves! Please! Plenty to go round!"

When she finally managed to slide up next to Zandelia, she gave a lean round to her right shoulder to whisper within her ear, faint hum of the rolling lilt escaping, "And good evening to you fair lady. Enjoying yourself I hope?" A low bubble of laughter escaped, it was her free arm that looped round across the shoulders in a sense of familiarity - she was willing to let some of her usual tight laced formalities of being leader of the Scars. Her gaze glanced down to the game of dice, "So... I was wondering... seeing as you're so nicely dressed for this occasion, and well, we are skipping the usual businesslike approach to things, not sure if names are included in that, but..." Lips peeled back to reveal a flash of teeth, the gauntlets clacking as the fingers wriggled, "Would the lady object to a dance with her wolf?"

[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer was flustered. It had been about noon when she'd found out about some sort of party going on over at the Quay. From that time onwards she'd been busy whittling away at her employer's resolve, convincing him that he wanted to let her go. Merv had been resistant at first, offering excuses to try to get her to work at her usual time, positively putting his foot down when she had tried to wiggle out of working at all. Her employer had won in the end but in a way so had Caela. Free food and drink were going to lose the Pig's Foot most of its evening customers and so she had negotiated an earlier working time, which still left her free to go to the party.

Even with her arrangements time had proven to be in short supply. She'd had to make a run up to the Hot Springs to clean her after the day's work before returning to her room to get herself ready to go out. Regardless of how fast she moved she was going to get there after the event had started.

Her red dress which hadn't been worn in awhile was decided on as the most suitable item for the occasion. The dress alone would serve its purpose and so the woman had chosen to leave her corset at home. There was no point cutting off her air supply and crushing her ribs for the sake of good appearance. She'd only be showing herself off to the scum of humanity for the most part and she wasn't getting paid to do it so there was no point in doing it in her eyes. Sturdy boots were pulled on, cosmetics were applied to her lips and her cloak was thrown over the whole ensemble. There was no place to put a dagger that wouldn't seem ridiculous and so the blonde was forced to leave it at home. If someone chose to pick a fight with her she was probably better off using her hands that the blade anyway so she hoped it'd be no loss.

Her preparations complete, she hurried off to the party. Well known streets were passed through with rapidity and it wasn't long before she neared the Quay. She heard it before she saw it, slowing down before she was even in sight, fighting the urge to turn tail and head back home. Kechaiya will probably be there. You can find her and maybe some other people you'd like to see too. The number of people that she wouldn't mind seeing could be counted on one hand without including her thumb. Kechaiya was probably one of the only people that she felt genuinely comfortable around and so she focused on a future meeting with the foreigner amongst the rabble. She conveniently pushed away any thoughts that the woman wouldn't be there and closed the distance that would actually allow her to see the rabble in question.

Such a gathering of bodies, all in merriment, wasn't something that she'd seen in Sunberth for quite some time. It'd be a hard season, harsher than usual and so it didn't surprise her that so many people were taking advantage of the opportunity. She was taking advantage to although as she stood there looking on at all of the drinkers and dancers she couldn't quite remember her reasons for coming. Confident steps carried her into the revelry while in reality she wanted to shrink away. She immediately began scanning the crowd for the foreign doctor. People who'd already had too much to drink - the lightweights - were engaged in bawdy singing, a collection of slurred syllables that Caela couldn't translate; she didn't speak drunk. Others were getting amazingly cosy with one another, regardless of sex or race and she imagined that there would be many people who continued the revelry long after the party was over.

She found food and drink before she'd seen any sign of the black eyed woman and couldn't resist the urge to nab some food while there was still some going. Her cloak was removed with a flourish and rested over one arm as she set about gathering as much food as she could safely carry as she continued her search. Pig flesh, fruits, vegetables and nuts along with a tankard of berry cider were carried away with her as she continued to look for Kechaiya. Half of the cider had been gulped down to stop it spilling by the time she spotted Noven. The blonde had little desire to see the man, her opinions of him still a little shaky especially after what she'd seen him do this season. The sight of him talking to some pretty wench made her instantly suspicious of his feelings towards Kechaiya.

Moving herself closer by pushing her way through the crowd, she tried to get a better look at the woman that the cook was talking to, intent on bringing any reports of infidelity back to the doctor. But as she grew close and truly looked at the woman, catching a glimpse of the ebony eyes that she sported, Caela realised that it was the good doctor! The realisation made her stop to stare, rudely jostled by one of the other party goers and nearly dropping all of her food in the process. Recovering her balance, she continued to stare in the woman's direction trying to decide if she should approach. She knew that that dress had looked familiar... If the doctor was with Noven then it was probably best to leave them be, no point making the poor woman self-conscious by having Caela was with them. The prospect of mingling with the party goers at large wasn't a pleasant one. If she could just sneak away without the woman noticing then she wouldn't have to be obliged to be a third wheel. Her eyes skimmed over the party.

The question was where should she move to?
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[Sherashadiss]

Shadiss had heard through rumours that a party was being held at this place called the Quay and she couldn’t resist. No, most definitely not because she had the mind of a poison crafter and therefore if people were getting drunk then it was the perfect time to spike people’s drinks with a little something something. At parties, people tended to drink way more than they naturally would on a normal tavern night, for music and food were involved. People’s spirits lifted among like-minded individuals and even if one passed out from an unknown substance, the rest wouldn’t be one hundred percent aware of it until their foggy minds cleared. The Viper could almost feel a cackle bubble to her lips as her right gloved hand that she had tucked into the pockets of her hooded coat, clasped around the vials that contained two doses of a drug, a drug that she wanted to find out the effects of. The woman had to go all the way out to The Plantation to secure these doses, but she hoped that the gold spent upon them would be worth it, for apparently the drug was worth quite a bit. If the effects brought about certain outcomes, Shadiss might be inclined to experiment more upon the drug, to try and work out the ingredients of the drug so then she could replicate the effects.

Viper didn’t actually know much about this particular drug, in fact, rarely did she ever experiment with drugs or with anything that she herself didn’t make. Otherwise how could one find out exactly what goes in to make a particular poison or drug? In fact, she had yet to experiment with her own venom, something that she was going to do… Eventually. In her profession, there was just so much room to play with, even if she did petch up some ingredients by burning it a little bit. For at least it would still retain some poisonous property that she could use in her poisons, it just wouldn’t be a very strong poison. Slowly her gloved hand slid out of the pocket, for at this moment the precious items were secure, for now, until they made their way to the respective drinks. Poisons were one of the three Ps that the Dhani woman lived by, however it was the poisons that was the dominant P out of all of the three that she lived by. It was a simple life that she lived and hopefully it would stay that way, for complications were not a part of her over-all plan.

The Dhani woman was dressed in her usual garb, for she didn’t feel the need to dress differently. A white shirt, pair of black pants and boots, as well as her black coat and gloves, sufficed her. Tucked among the folds of her coat was a dagger, mostly for security purposes and that was all that she carried upon her person, having spent more than she really wanted to upon the drugs that she had bought. Silently, she slipped through the gates of the quay and into an unfamiliar territory. People moved in and about the area and a smirk soon found its way to her lips. It was so perfect, she just had to wait a bell or two as she carefully selected the possible candidates to be her little experiments. She snagged up a mug of ale and leaned her back against a solid wall, her crimson gaze slowly sliding over the many people within the area. Viper lifted the mug to take a good mouthful of the liquid before she lowered it once more so then her gaze could continue sliding over the crowd, taking note of those dwelling within the crowd.

LedgerLove Dust x2 = -28 GM
Word Count626

[Kechaiya]

Kechaiya was growing a bit disappointed at how few people she recognized from her seat. She hadn't seen Noven, nor Caela, and at this point was willing to spend her time with Amon of all people, just so she wouldn't have to be alone at this table. Strangers sat at the far end of the table away from her, after first considering her company. But like always, her eyes were far too disturbing and off putting. She never regretted being her parents daughter, and loved her heritage and the people who raised her, but sometimes it was harder to stomach. Especially when she put forth effort to put herself out there. She nibbled at her food, sipped at her bubbling cider, stewing in her loneliness.

Then a familiar voice cut through the fog, and she brightened right up, looking to see Noven's grinning visage. She noticed that his hair was wet, despite the lack of rain. It wasn't unpleasant, and worked for him, it was simply strange as to why it was wet. But that was just salt water in the sands right now, because he'd finally arrived. Her broad smile lit her face right up, "Yes, taken. By you." The relief that his presence alone brought he was immense, as she patted the wood. She was determined to make tonight a good night for the both of them, and not ruin it with injuries, tears, and fears. It was time to implement all the advice Caela had given her. She made sure that when Noven sat next to her, she scooted over a bit so they met at the hip and leg. Touching, in seemingly insignificant ways was very important to men. Apparently it made them feel special and wanted without making the woman seem like a seductive whore.

And every time she spoke to him, she made eye contact, as she did now,"You be well? I be at Leeland's for days. Lots of sick." She nibbled at her food, trying to display the confidence that Caela had said she needed. She was doing her best to ignore those that stared at her, because Noven was with her. After all, no one expected the crazy eyed foreigner to get a 'model' Sunberthian like Noven. The corset was a little uncomfortable to sit in, but if Caela could dance in it, she figured it would just come in time. And it certainly showed off her small breasts and hips in a manner pleasing to the doctor. She felt pretty, and wanted to be seen as such. A woman walked past their table, tall, brunette, breasts like melons. Kech was searching for her flaws as Caela had said to do. Her ample cleavage was covered in stretch marks and as she smiled, Kech saw that her teeth were far from white. Caela was right, this did make her feel better.

Looking over at her companion once more, "Been busy at Jillene's?"

[Markus Andres]

The mug was drained at an alarming rate. The content swirled into the belly already full of beer and roasted pig. Even the fruit had been nibbled and joined the rest down there in the simmering mass that had been his dinner. The knight had yet to try the chicken, but the night was still young and there was plenty of time for such culinary adventures. The cocktail needed more ale to be complete. He felt a burp rising and he let it go without a fight. He pushed up from the table and turned to the larger party. His corner was noticeably lacking in ale. But there was something else that caught his attention. Half a panic came over the man as he realized there was something very important he had to do. The knight moved in a determined path towards the docks. A lady in red, or a man in a dress, his eyes did not register before he accidentally bumped against her. Much too light for a man. There was a murmur of an apology before he raced off. More pressing matters at hand. An older fellow and his younger date passed him by. They seemed to be in good spirit as one of them roared with laughter. It put a smile on his lips to see such joyful mood.

"Evening gents." He said with a nod before continuing to the most pressing matter in the world at the moment. Without much of an explanation if they turned to look after him he dropped his black cotton trousers and let gravity handle the rest. He hoped Laviku or the dhanis around in the water wouldn't mind him taking a leak in their domain. It was refreshing. He soon finished up and pulled back up the pants and returned to the party. Vision already a littly blurry and the sounds of people chatting. Singing. Instruments playing.

Kvist took a deep breath as he emerged from the docks and he smoothed out the leather jerkin he wore. It was one he had used to rarely that it still looked somewhat unused. Surprisingly he had chosen to carry his blade with him tonight. Common logic had dictated he should have gone for the smaller dagger instead, but with so many unknown people showing up and Fallon's reputation in the city... He had chosen to be cautious. Though at the rate he was drinking it was hard to tell whether or not he would be able to wield his sword tonight. Kvist glanced in the direction of his mug, but as his head turned he saw a woman wearing what seemed like a purple dress. Although she still wore a cloak over it. Though the colour was unmistakeable, as was the silvery blonde hair of her beautiful Konti race. Strange... she must've thought it was cold and gotten her cloak. He approached the figure by a much larger one. Taller than Kvist it seemed. One of her patients? Or old friends? Seems like he can fight so a worthy addition. Kvist figured he'd not let his mind do the work and instead let S'Essy explain herself. He appeared beside the Konti woman and his arm automatically placed itself across her back.

"Hey darling, who's your friend?" He spoke with an easy and disarming smile. Kvist was not sure what alerted him to something being wrong. The wrong angle of his arm, the unwelcoming body language of the person whose shoulder his arm was resting on. He turned his gaze for a brief moment and from there it was quite clear. This was most certainly not S'Essy his arm was resting upon. This was a very different Konti woman.The colour drained from his face as the realization crept over him.

Oh petch me.

"Oh shyke, I am so sorry! Sorry! I thought you were someone else." Kvist said as he took a jump back and away from the woman. Holding up both hands flatly between them. "Honestly, I thought you were S'Essy!" Half-slurred words spoken hastily in a mix of his Syliran and Zeltivan accents.

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ClarificationThe one Markus mistakes for S'Essy is Nitai.

[Marone]

Free food and drinks? That would probably work for a lot of people in Sunberth but it was not enough a reason for Marone to go to the party because the Sun's Birth does the same for him everyday. However even within the seemingly closed off group there was talk of the party. Not about the food of course but of what anyone attending to it could expect. It had the potential to be an expedition of great opportunity to those that at least gave it a shot. Or so Marone heard.

Of course after being able to enjoy the benefits of provided by the gang first hand Marone hardly ever left its reach unless it was absolutely necessary to him which made at least one of the points which came up in his conversations apparent. It was a chance to meet more people. More importantly it was a chance to meet more people with skills that can be used. Marone has been buying the materials for his personal projects from the outside but those were a lot less frequent than he would've liked to prevent the suppliers from suspecting his purpose. The same problem if he had asked a raider to acquire his materials.

The chance to get the materials from people he would less likely run into while in the Sun's Birth. Less likely to have to meet unless he had a reason to would be valuable indeed.

Even if he thought that way Marone was still unwilling to keep away from the security assured to him by the Sun's Birth. Especially when that security was all that kept him from the chaos and harmful nature of the rabble of Sunberth. It took a few days of preparing and planning but Marone was able to assimilate himself into a group that was planning to attend the party themselves. It was easy when members of the Sun's Birth would be at The Gold Lodge at one point or another.

Everywhere Marone went he heard about this party. Clients in the Knight's Armoury commenting about how the hostess led a collection of thugs and ruffians to raid the bandits that made the food shortage a lot worse than it should be. Some people here and there in the Refuge whispering about how the mistress of the Quay came back from the dead after many had thought she'd drowned. There were a lot more rumors that Marone heard of the nature which confirmed one thing.

This Bitzer had quite the reputation and was doing a good job in attracting attention to her celebration if not herself.

It was during his daily visit to The Gold Lodge when Marone overheard a group planning to crash the party and decided the group was as good as any. Waiting for the opportunity to assimilate himself into the conversation Marone took his chance when his ears picked up on their discussion about the rare display of generosity in Sunberth.

"Rare? What do you mean by rare? We have the same all the time over here don't we?" he said in feigned ignorance.

"Because we're special brother. Very special" one answered. A good start.

Another added "Very very special. You should come too. They be happy if we go there to. Go there to.."

"Spice up the party!" the first concluded.

Marone ended up at the party feeling relatively safe compared to if he came himself especially since the lot of them sported the same Eight Point Sun mark somewhere but he was rethinking his plan. Ever since he got to The Quay the group hadn't given him the chance to leave. He lost count of how long he has been stuck with them already but he noticed that people were filling in fast. A lot more than when he first came.

Being stuck with his own people was not the reason Marone attended the party and he made a firm decision "I need more food and drink" before quickly leaving the group. Good natured people but uncomfortably clingy he felt. His excuse was true because everyone else came for the food and drink making him believe that more people would mingle by them.

His only dilemma was who to meet first. The last thing Marone wanted was to get the attention of some serial killer or ne'er do well which would do more harm than benefit him in the future.

[Victus]

Victus was so enamored with the crowd and their little social dances that he nearly jumped when he felt a warm, soft presence collide with him. Another downside of being a cage fighter: it ruined your spatial awareness. If it wasn't right in front of you and bellowing for your steaming entrails, you were blind to it. "Careful, girl!" He snapped the words out with thought, personality switching out of instinct, reacting how he would to one of Master's "lesser" slaves barging into him. Bad habit to pick up, clumsiness; best to break them of it fast and harshly. Then he remembered where he was, and forgot to shield his face in his mild horror. A face that seemed built of sharp angles greeted the girl's eyes, predatory glower morphed in an instant into something... confused. Contrite. Victus cleared his throat and his eyes flitted downward. "Lesser slave". What a term. They were all lessers; the habit of thinking otherwise had been broken in him, most certainly. When he apologized, it was with eyes downcast, as he'd always been taught. "Apologies to you, ma'am. It was an accident. I spoke out of place." Whatever she thought of him, she seemed bent on introductions. Victus blinked at the proffered hand as if it would change into a handful of pigeons. She... did not seem angry. She didn't storm away or curse him or snarl and snap back at him. She was grace and patience. The slave quietly decided to leave that a while before setting it in stone, but until then... he managed a shy smile utterly out of place on his grim, lined face and engulfed her delicate pale hand with his own callused mitt. "I am V-" The hand rose, and he paused for a fraction, thinking fast "-... Varan. Varan from... the Tent City." And it lowered again, a proper shake. Then he looked down a realized two things. Firstly, the scaled that shimmered and winked at him, covering her arm and down her pale wrist. He cocked his head like a dog and studied them, her trapped arm forgotten until he asked in puzzlement, "What happened to your arm?" Not much tact, do gladiators have. But as his eyes perused her, they came back to his own hand... and he saw that the slave tattoos carved into him with wooden needles and charcoal ink, snaking around his wrists in runes of owning, were exposed to the world. The cage fighte rbroke from her hand as if she were diseased, hurriedly shoving his sleeve back over his hands, eyes flickering as if frightened. Finally they came back to her, and part of his mind wondered just what an insensible dotard he must seem like to so lovely and polite a girl. But the years under the lash took priority, working his lips, and he whispered in tones that tore at him those words every slave learned early. "Please, don't tell anyone..."

[Toan Onox]

Toan's eyes had to be forced to remain down at the collection of parchments in his book then, a particular moment in which an delightful story caught his ear raised a bit of interest out of him. It appeared that there were indeed several interesting characters that he had to look out for, out of the numerous he had to be wary of there were no doubt a few prospective ones he could benefit from. The woman that told the story of "Fallon" being such a person, granted he could only surmise it was her own story if not a fabrication of someone she knew. Interesting... He smirked a bit as he decided to go ahead and look up, another sip of the sweetly tart cider in his mug as he looked around to see the figures of bodies that collected in the bustle of this festive collaboration.

He neglected to notice that the cider had already began to lighten his mood some and bring a sense of ease in that process, a small bit of laughter quelled within his chest as he glanced about several faces he thought he might've seen before. There was no guarantee at the moment but alas he wasn't going to jump about and join in the collection of social groups that gathered, seeing as how he needed to be a bit more high spirited to accomplish the task, the timing would certainly be better if he delayed it for a bit longer and it certainly would prolong his good health. That's one thing he's at least managed to keep to himself in the short time he's arrived to the city, the fact he could say he still drew breath definitely counted for something since Sunberth was rampant in chaos and death. People could easily kill one another without others caring to spare a second thought, yet alone a first granted many just minded their own business.

"Y'know," Ven managed to spat words out between chews, "You should totally indulge in some of this food they have. Its pretty damn good for a city that's got terrible hygiene." He finished with an obnoxious belch before he sunk his teeth into more meat, his plate nearly cleaned off save for the portions of scraps he didn't deem edible.

"I'm all good." Toan jeered with a smirk on his face as he suddenly lost whatever appetite he started to build, he allowed a sigh to part from his lips as he went in for more cider. This time he indulged in a couple of gulps as the substance washed down his throat and settled inside his gut, he couldn't help but allow himself to enjoy the flavor of tart as the prominent flavor strongly presented itself in an abundant aftertaste. "I'm definitely going to need more of this if I'm to survive the night." He admitted as his nerves gave a jitter out of anticipation, he took a bit to settle himself before the whole big act.

"Me too, never know when we're going to go fishing." Ven joined in as he reached for a separate mug near his own, Toan gave a slap on the back of his wrist as he rejected the notion for his companion to drink.

"Not yet dear boy, first we're going to focus on making contacts. We need our heads working properly in order to make a lasting impression. Then you may drink to your heart's content, as for the fishing we'll worry about that at a later date." He assured the Kelvic as all received was but an aggravated frown, the artist then decided to go with the creation of one more sketch to relax him and at the same time sharpen his focus. He started on a drawing based on the memory of a woman who's form he remembered clearly, both from Ravok and from Nyka when they last spoke. From there he would use it as clarity, and in turn give his cider time to soothe the anxiety of poorly made decisions from happening in the near future.

[Lianel Lighthand Terras]

She watched the cloaked man, for it was clearly a male, drinking in the glimpse of sharp and narrow face, laced with suspicion and mistrust she had come to know. At first he snapped, and though he was surprised she was not upset at his outburst, she was fully expecting it. People that covered themselves with such intent clearly didn't want to be seen, whether this was because of deformity, illness, otherwise, she understood that quite fully. Of course, people that didn't want to be seen shouldn't come to a fairly talked about party either. A quizzical curious expression remained on her lips, transforming into a smile when he was quick to apologize.

Taking his hand her smile only widened. "Varan of the Tent City, it is a pleasure, I suppose if we're going with titles you could add Nitai of the Sunset Quarter to the end of my name." She smirked, shaking his hand strongly, and watching as he examined her hand. When he spoke a light laughter erupted out of her throat. She was so used to everyone knowing precisely what she was, whistles or lude jeers being thrown her way, she found the spot of ignorance rather refreshing. "Ah, I was born that way. Shame isn't it?" She watched his face fall and his hand snap back like she was diseased and didn't connect the gesture to the strange markings on his own arm. Her grin disappeared somewhat, but it took a lot to offend the Sunberth bred Konti. "I'm sorry, it was a joke, I guess I'm just not used to people who don't know...I'm a Konti? Beautiful blonde fish ladies of the mysterious and wondrous island far far away? Never been there myself, but I here its filled with many women like me and luscious beaches." She watched him, suddenly realized with his desperate plea that he was worried about the focus upon him and not her. Suspicious figure bent on not being seen with semi-familiar and clear stamped markings on his arm-

Her mouth opened in a slight 'o' of realization, but before she could speak she found an arm wrapping about her in a familiar fashion, her interest piqued even further when her head tilted to the side to survey the person to whom it belonged. She could feel the heft of the arm that put itself around her, the muscle of the figure only confirmed as she gazed upon his form, one who held himself with a casual grace, a sword on his belt that she had no doubt he knew how to use. Before she could even fathom an answer to the man who acted like he knew her, the uniqueness of her race in Sunberth was pulled up once more, arm snatched away, the man stumbling for words.

Nitai couldn't help but laugh again, considerably amused by how fun this evening was progressing so early on, albeit wishing she had a bit more alcohol in her. "I do not know of this S'Essy, but she sounds like a lucky lady. I'll call us even if I know to whom I am speaking and where the keg of ale is that you've been drinking out of friend. As I was just explaining to Varan here, I am Nitai." She gave a little bow and flourish of the hand, grinning broadly and taking a deep draught of her cider.

oocThanks for the clarification
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