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[Jay Darkcrest]

Winter 55, 515 AV
The Wolf’s Cave


With a sigh, Jay leaned against the bar of the Watering Hole and ran a hand through his copper locks. It was the first time since he’d come down two bells ago that he got a moment of quiet to catch his breath. The taproom that provided food and drink for patrons of the Wolf’s Cave could house fifty at most, but those fifty still meant a lot of work for two people. Fortunately, it was less than two thirds full – unfortunately, a significant part of those patrons were winged wild Zith.

When one of them met his gaze with raised eyebrows, he nodded and walked over to take their order. “Can I get a refill?”

“Sure.” Avoiding the predator’s piercing gaze, Jay collected his mug and fled back to the bar. While he was pouring ale into a fresh one, Winona finished her round through the room. When he’d served the Zith, she returned to the bar and got herself a glass of water.

Jay hovered next to her, stretching his arms and flexing his fingers to relieve stiff muscles. Since they both got a break for the first time that day, it was only then that she noticed the fresh bruise on his left cheekbone and eyebrow.

She pointed at it. “What happened there? Are you alright?”

He gave a lopsided grin, trying and failing to hide his embarrassment. “I walked around last night and the wind was really strong. I lost balance and hit a brick wall. That’s all.”

His superior snorted. “You did?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “It isn’t funny! That wind… it felt strange. Bad.”

Winona cocked her head at that, but didn’t ask him to elaborate. Instead she shuffled off to tend to a customer who had apparently signaled her. Jay smiled and felt in his pocket for his lucky coin. He had tried to avoid mentioning breezes or anything related to them for fear of having to explain his connection with the air in general and storms in particular. It was healthy mistrust of strangers that told him not to talk about his gnosis openly, but he hadn’t been able to keep quiet about the bad feeling he’d gotten the other day.

Maybe that was what he liked about Alvads – their tolerance. They weren’t suspicious of weird things, some weren’t even curious. They simply seemed to accept its existence and move on. Live and let live. He appreciated that.

Just as he surfaced from that thought, the rock corridor spit out a trickle of new customers. Some slowed down looking for empty seats, some headed straight to the bar. Jay got ready to don his welcome smile and serve those who came to the bar.

[Aislyn Leavold]

55th of Winter, 515 AV

Aislyn hadn’t visited a bar in quite a while. A few seasons, perhaps. Though that was to be expected; after all, she had quite a few reasons why she avoided it. First of all, anyone could buy a bottle of something strong and sit on a rooftop somewhere. There, she had a view, a drink, and best of all had to go nowhere near other people. Second, she seemed to have bad luck when it came to bars. Especially the Wolf’s Cave. To list just a few instances, she’d managed to get lost in a maze with a giant snake, been found out to be an Illusionist, and had even gotten herself some nice amnesia after a fall. All on separate occasions.
Thus, she had avoided it.
But tonight, the city seemed to be practically throwing the tavern at her. Every few turns she’d take, it would reappear, bustling with activity in the nighttime air. But if that wasn’t a sign from Ionu themself that Aislyn just had to go in tonight, she didn’t know what was.

And a sign from Ionu, Aislyn had to accept.

A dark alleyway and a shiny mirror later, the bright-haired and brighter-eyed ‘Maya’ faded down to the inconspicuity of ‘Thief’. Short black hair, sharp face accompanied by a sharp look, and she was golden. Whatever Ionu sought to gain from sending her to the Cave, they’d get it.
Inside, Aislyn stayed near the wall, only to find that the majority of the table seats were actively occupied. Unfortunate, but not disastrous. She’d come in with a group, after all, and said group headed straight for tables, theoretically to avoid splitting up. So Aislyn headed towards the bar, instead. If she were honest, she’d rather avoid a seat at the bar- inconspicuity and all that- but after a patron decided that his twelfth drink was enough for one night, leaving a seat open, who was she to pick and choose?

Sitting down at the bar, Aislyn let her cloak fall over the chair behind her. She didn’t remove it entirely, instead opting to simply let the hood fall. Then, in the absence of a server, she tried listening. That was one of the only good things about being around other people. They said quite a lot when no one was listening. Which was good, because Aislyn certainly fit under the category of ‘no one’. For example, the couple immediately to her right were discussing their plans for later that night. Which was certainly something she was not exactly interested in hearing, so she looked elsewhere.
The bartender, who stood a fair distance to her left, appeared to be explaining… Something. She couldn’t exactly make out the words, considering how far away he was. But from his hand motions, the man appeared to be discussing his… Face.

It was only when he turned towards her did Aislyn understand why. He’d gained quite a nasty bruise from… Well, something, certainly. Something about the wind, if she heard correctly. That made sense. The winds that season had certainly been… Unpleasant.
Rubbing her arm, Aislyn felt validated in the fact that she was not alone on the list of Alvads that had been picked up by the unfortunate breeze. She wore short sleeves underneath her cloak, but her illusions hid the bite mark from view. As her fingers brushed it, it briefly rippled in and out of view, succeeding in pretty much nothing other than agitating the area around the wound. It wasn’t particularly deep, but she’d only gained it a few days before, so it still stung.
What kind of wind had teeth, and a hobby of slamming people into walls?

As the bartender in question approached, Aislyn took an interest in a peeling splinter of wood on the bar. Thief could handle this. Social interaction was not the end of the world.

"Rough night?"

"Speech" - Thought

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cyrene was headed home. A long day at the forge and all she really wanted to do was sleep. She’d been walking through the twisting and turning streets, the ever moving and shifting city. Around every corner she expected to see her place of rest. No instead she saw the wolf’s cave. A place she hadn’t really visited. She bit the bullet perhaps if she went in for a brief time. She didn’t have to “drink” perse it hadn’t ended well the last couple of times she’d done so. Then again she’d been drinking in her Isur form not her ethaefel form. So who knew? She followed the god of illusions will as it seemed to be. Normally they saw eye to eye she went straight from sleep to work, normally not even having to walk twenty feet in either direction but today it seemed as if something else was on the cards.

Pushing the doors in, she stepped into the room. Her long white locks flowing loosely against the back of her coat. Her obsidian glass like horns forming an elegant crown around her head. As she stepped in some of the patrons stopped mid drink to take a quick glance at her. Nothing much to show off other than her face but her skin where it showed as almost like moving mother of pearl swirling purples pale greens and whilst swirling as she stepped into the room. She was used to getting jarring looks for many different reasons. But this seemed to be one of the more interesting situations. This was actually her first official visit to the cave at least outside of the hours of daylight.

She skirted around the edge of the room making sure to steer clear of a few of the more drunken patrons. She didn’t have her ludicrous strength to break their faces if they tried to lay a hand on her. So she had to be careful. She picked a spot at the edge of the bar. Sitting down at the edge she was kind of relieved. The wind outside was bitingly frigid and as such she’d brought her coat, but still with the tightness of her work clothes on her from her much smaller form she didn’t feel right removing the coat. Not to mention that would show the mark of izurdin on her right shoulder to the room.

Sighing she tapped a hand on the counter and glasnced over at the other patrons along the bar. Pulling out a miza from her bag, with her glaive still resting against her back she tapped it on the counter top. Snapping her fingers she called to the bartender. “Fruit juice. And keep them coming till the coins out.” A sharpness to her melodious voice, barbed like she was annoyed with something.

[Yisanareysin]

"You're going to have to be subtle about this." Rey rolled his eyes, grateful that his client couldn't see him. He leaned against a wall in a dark alleyway, a single red, green and yellow flower growing in the wall above his head. To his right, the alley made a sharp turn, and around that corner, just out of Rey's sight, was his client. Of course, Rey mused, just because he couldn't see his client, didn't mean that she, or one of her lackeys or accomplices couldn't see him.

The letter had been short, and to the point. He'd been directed to this spot in the underground, instructed to stand under the flower, and was told in no uncertain terms that he was not to round the corner, or else. The else hadn't been specified, but he could guess. She was a spy, after all, just like him. Paranoid to the bone.

"Axon is.. was a professional. And he knows I'm looking for him. Any hint that you're looking for him, and he'll go to ground. This is a delicate job, one I'm reluctant to entrust to an amateur."
Rey bit back a huff of annoyance at being called an amateur, and responded in as even a tone as he could manage. "Why me, then?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have much other choice. Axon knows all my spies, all my contacts and allies, everyone with potential I was hoping to bring into the fold. He'll be watching for them. So I need someone who we've never been affiliated with. Hence, your presence here. It certainly helps that I know for a fact he hasn't contacted you before."

"Oh?"
"Oh yes. For all that he seems almost human, you see, Axon is still a kelvic." The woman chuckled. "What self respecting mongoose would ever have anything to do with a snake? No, he despises your kind. Now, here."
A rustling noise to his right caught his attention, and Rey turned to find a piece of paper had been slid around the corner.

"Don't pick it up. Just memorise it."
Rey rolled his eyes again, but did as she said. There were two images on the paper, a human and a mongoose, both detailed and coloured. Rey drank it in, eyes flickering over every minute detail. When he thought he had the whole thing in his mind, he hummed.

Nothing touched the paper, he was sure of it, but it set aflame from the centre, fire licking out to consume the image. "Very well then. Pluck the flower from the wall when you find him. We'll be in contact."

Without another word, Rey turned, and left the alley, leaving a pile of ashes behind him. Making his way back to the surface, Rey considered his options. If he were a kelvic spy trying to get out of the game, he'd be on a ship headed far, far away. So perhaps the docks were his best bet. Although, there weren't that many ships sailing out in the middle of winter. Most of them had already left

Hai, most of them started leaving around the time Alvadas had started getting more dangerous than normal. Emerging from the underground, Rey blinked to find it was already dark. Huh.

This late at night, the docks were a bad plan. Better to approach them tomorrow. So, where to then? See if his contacts knew anything, or just return to the Wolf's Cave and sleep?

Or.... perhaps not sleep. If he were a kelvic spy trying to hide, well. What better place than among other kelvics? Turning, Rey followed the pull of his room key, his mind sorting through his recent memories of the cave. He didn't recall seeing anyone who fit the image he'd been provided with, but he hadn't had much reason to sit around the cave and watch people recently.

Although, he thought he vaguely recalled the word.. not mongoose, but one of those similar animals. Weasel? Ferret? Yes, that was right. Micah had been talking about having a new bartender. A "big weasel or ferret or whatever." When had that been? Recently, he recalled, although recently could mean anything from two days ago to two seasons. Still, it was worth a try.

Entering the Cave, Rey headed towards the bar. Call him an amateur, would she? He'd show her just what an amateur could do.

Snake Tongue | Common | Arumenic

[Jay Darkcrest]

Jay greeted the girl – human as far as he could tell – at the bar with a lopsided grin. “Rough day. The night is good so far. You want something to drink? Or a bite for dinner?” An audible accent lined his words, a sound that spoke of salt water and the cries of gulls in the air. Naturally, most land-dwellers wouldn’t be able to place it unless they happened to visit dockside taverns and talk to sailors frequently.

After a season of working at the Watering Hole, Jay was developing a bit of a memory for faces. He couldn’t remember seeing the dark-haired girl with somewhat sharp features, so she was new or frequented other establishments. Either way, talking to new faces tended to be entertaining in its own way. “Are you new to Alvadas? Or just to this place?”

Before the conversation could continue, however, another woman at the end of the counter attracted his attention with sharp words. Snapping her fingers, she placed a gold coin on the wood. Her clipped tone posed a stark contrast to her appearance which could only be described as otherworldly. Obsidian horns and snow white hair coupled with skin the color of moonlight… all that reminded him of Cosimia. An Ethaefal, then. Jay bounced over and accepted the miza with a friendly nod. “Aye, coming up! The city treat you badly too?”

Fortunately, he was able to prepare the drink out front and chat with his customers at the same time. Since Winona liked to experiment, the ingredients changed slightly every ten days, a treat for the Symenestra. Keeping an eye on the bar, Jay grabbed a glass and pulled the ingredients that were stored behind the bar towards him. First he peeled and chopped up a banana with the big vegetable knife, dropping the slices into the glass. Then he poured pineapple juice over it, judging the amount by eye instead of using a measuring cup. After Winona had taught him how to mix her fruit cocktails, he’d used it a few times. Eventually, however, he’d memorized the amounts and was confident to get them right. That way, he was able to prepare a drink much faster too. After the pineapple juice, he added a small spoon of sugar and some ground cinnamon before topping it off with milk. Sticking a large wooden spoon into the glass, he stirred for the better part of a chime to make sure all the ingredients mixed and the banana dissolved into the liquid.

With a friendly smile, he slid the glass over the counter. “Here you go! Tell me how you like it. Winona accepts suggestions.” Lifting his gaze, Jay nodded towards his superior who was serving a table of newcomers in the back. While he hadn’t and would never master the art of polished politeness and subtlety that she possessed, Jay liked to think most patrons who sat at the bar ended up enjoying his company.

[Aislyn Leavold]

"Dinner."
Glancing over to the entrance, Aislyn inspected the entering patrons. It was getting to the bar time of night, judging from the sudden influx. Not that it really mattered. After all, since she wasn’t a particularly frequent visitor to the cave; there was no one she knew. No familiar faces.
Well, perhaps she recognized a few. Maybe one.
Oh no.
Long hair, short stature, the vague, searching, serpintile look. Yisanareysin.
That was not good. That was very, very not good.

Petch, and she knew he’d be there, too. She was relatively certain he lived at the Wolf’s Cave, considering his rather fanged nature. It made sense. But apparently not enough sense for her to remember that rather crucial fact when she was being pulled towards one of the few alcohol havens in the city.

Speaking of alcohol, as she turned back to the bartender, Aislyn found that he had, indeed, gone to tend to a… Horned woman? That was interesting. But not an “interesting” for that moment. An “interesting” for when she was unrecognizable and had free reign. A question for when she wasn't in immediate danger. If Reysin saw her… There would be issues. But now the bartender was distracted, leaving her with no witnesses. Neither the bartender, nor Reysin, seemed like they would be leaving anytime soon. Which meant Aislyn was the one who had to change.

As casually as she could, Aislyn raised her hood over her head. There was no use in being seen. Pushing back her stool, she mimed dropping something, positioning herself so her head was practically underneath the bar. Slipping her mirror out of her sleeve, she worked as quickly as she could. Over the years, she’d figured out that there were a few things people looked for in order to recognize someone. The most defining characteristics. Hair colour, skin colour, and the eyes. But Aislyn couldn’t make up something on the fly. She had to use something from before; use parts and pieces of other people, other faces, or perhaps…
...Or perhaps use something that never quite got off the ground in the first place.
Samvrita.

Sam, the wonderful illusion that had been blocked from Aislyn’s use during her delightful stay in the body of a certain Nythis Drawne. She’d tried to implement the illusion before, but through some divine intervention, her illusions hadn’t worked on her body. Meaning “Sam” had never seen the light of day. Which made her safe.
Which meant Aislyn had a fresh face and a fresh name to work with.
Aiming to hold the awkward position under the bar for no more than a chime, Aislyn adjusted… Everything. Her skin darkened, her hair shortened, the facial structure of Thief’s softened just enough to make it unrecognizable. She kept her scars hidden, but let the bite from the winds show through. That was a defining characteristic that none of her other illusions had. Therefore ’Sam’ was unique. She had wounds that couldn’t possibly belong to someone a certain snake had seen before.

Stacking the illusions on top of each other clouded her concentration, and Aislyn knew she was approaching the limit to how many details she could add before her power gave out. As soon as she was given the opportunity, the illusionist would be excusing herself to find some secluded washroom somewhere to give herself a clean slate and truly solidify ”Sam”.
With the final touches of a quite a few freckles across her face (Aislyn had never tried freckles before- they were fun) she deemed herself ready. And thus, acting as if she had finally picked up that mirror she had so clumsily dropped, Aislyn slipped off her cloak and repositioned herself at the bar as the bartender returned. If she had any luck left that night, he would be too busy to notice the difference. If her luck had run out… Well, hopefully the bartender was a local. His accent was somewhat familiar, but not enough to ensure that he'd roll with any illusion that came his way.

"New to the city, yes…” Glancing over at the incoming customers again, Aislyn tried to calm the racing in her head. Her hands were a tad bit shakier than she’d appreciate, but there was no use in ignoring the bartender’s question. New to Alvadas, of course. A perfect lie, if she hadn't said it in an Alvad accent.
”...and I believe I'll need something strong tonight.”

"Speech" - Thought

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cyrene sat at the counter, her head propped up on one arm as her eyes leered out over the rest of the bar. A flick of her striking moonlight eyes at the bartender as he spoke. Her order was on its way. Banana slices, pineapple juice and cinnamon? Well it was winter. She sighed lightly a small smirk plying her delicate features. Did the city treat her badly? No. not quite. She stood up from the stool during the time it took him to prep the drink sliding her jacket off and slipping it over the stool. The mark of Izurdin emblazoned on her right shoulder. Her pearlescent skin flicking in colour with the torchlight. Bare midriff open to the warm inside of the bar. She hadn’t been here but she wished she’d visited more. End of the season she was off again to a new place. The drink placed infront of her she took a small sip of the now mixed liquid.

The soft warmth of the cinnamon and then the sharp impact of the pineapple with the sweet aftertaste of sugar and the creaminess of the banana. Lovely. “It’s lovely young man. Thank you.” The harmonious tone to her voice came through as she spoke, the tone of annoyance replaced with a slight melancholy. Flicking her eyes about the room she saw one woman dart beneath the bar and then another re-emerge. Odd she’d have to question that shortly. She paused a moment hearing the doors of the place open and slam shut again. Rey. She cocked a small smirk and shot a glance at him as he motioned over to the bar. Not forgetting the incident in the forge. “Hey Rey!” She called out her voice still harmonius and a little harder than it should have been. She sifted the weight of her hand onto her left arm now. Taking a sifting in positioning to look over at him.

“How’s the sword treating you?” She smiled out lightly under her breath. Flipping her gaze slowly between all three of the people in front of her. “Hope it’s up to the standards you wanted.” She smirked and took anotehr long drink from the rather warming and refreshing drink.

oocHavent got much to do really it's mostly on you guys for the time being. I'll interject more upon the next instance

[Jay Darkcrest]

OOCSince Rey hasn't replied in over two weeks, I'm moving this along.


Jay cocked his head. Food was all well and good, but he still needed to know what kind she preferred. She didn’t seem to emit that slightly feral vibe that he got from most Kelvics and also didn’t look like a Symenestra or Zith which kept him guessing about her order until she told him. Before he could rattle off the menu, however, the Ethaefal called out to him and he was momentarily distracted.

While Jay was preparing her drink, the girl shrugged off her jacket and unveiled an elaborate vibrant tattoo on her arm. Having a similar one himself, Jay immediately recognized it for what it was: a gnosis mark. Since it didn’t remind him of breezes or the ocean, however, he had no idea which God had bestowed it. As she tasted her fruity drink, he wondered what it did. Blinking, he focused on her words, then grinned. “Thank you. I’ll tell Winona you like it. By the way, you have a nice tattoo. Does it mean anything?”

Jay allowed himself a moment of relief that the Ethaefal had abandoned her bad mood before turning back towards the sharp-faced girl. Only to find that her features were no longer sharp, but soft, her skin darker and hair shorter than he remembered. She also had freckles.

Blinking, the Kelvic scrambled for some sort of explanation why the girl had changed looks. Unless she’d mysteriously vanished and a completely different person had taken her place in a matter of about two chimes. He supposed that was a possibility, but was also fairly certain he’d never lost sight of her out of the corner of his eye. The now freckled girl didn’t seem disturbed by her change in appearance, however, maybe she hadn’t even noticed. Either way, the way she answered his question as if nothing had happened reassured Jay. While he was no resident, he’d spent enough time in Alvadas to simply accept strange things when they happened.

Clearing his throat, he forced himself to nod. “Welcome then! That means a mug of ale, right? And I think you said dinner. Do you like steak? A nice salad or maybe just bread with butter?” Squinting a little, he gave her one last confused look. Even if she had come by ship, there was no trace of Fratava in her speech. In fact she sounded like any Alvad, although Jay didn’t know enough about language to be sure.

Giving the strange girl some time to decide, he grabbed a mug and turned towards the ale casks. While the liquid was pouring into the mug, he took the opportunity to cast a glance around and check for new arrivals.