[Red Diamond Tavern] A Taste of Pain

[Azeran]

Timestamp: 40th of Spring, AV 511 PCs Allowed: Azeran, Cara, Danyella, Berus, Darren, Stitch

Azeran sat silently in the corner of the room. The tavern wasn't warm, but the fire was raging and it definitely beat being outside. Azeran hated this place, Avanthal. Scum of the world. The frozen pit that deserved to be swallowed by the sea. Well, to be more specific, it was Koarhal that despised this place, Azeran could tolerate it, even found a few things about it that could be enjoyed if the temperature wasn't so painful. "Azeran you dumb shyke. You and your damned feelings, urges to leave Riverfall, urges to jump on a boat and leave, to hitch with a caravan and ride, to get petching sick and getting us stranded here. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are trying to get us killed. Tell me, what is the reason for this? Why are you trying to kill us? Are you really so pathetic that you can't find a reason to live? Well guess what you chicken shyke, I do. I'm taking over for a while, vagik. Hush your mouth and sleep. I think you'll find us alive and well when you wake." Azeran allowed this, physically they may have shared the same body, but mentally they were different. Azeran was feeling the effects of days without rest, full of worry and restlessness. Koarhal would assume control regardless, Azeran might as well shut off and sleep. Koarhal, somehow without the ability to speak any local languages, managed to order a drink, Beer, strong and lightly spiced with honey. He preferred something stronger, taste didn't matter, but regardless he drank it without restraint. His cold gaze wandered the room, cursing to himself the amount of cold Taldera had. Even winters in Riverfall weren't this bad.

[Berus]

Berus sat in one of a dozen cushioned chairs near the fire, absentmindedly playing soothing melodies on lyre as he nearly dozed off. It was colder today than usual, so he decided to forgo his general wanderings of the boardwalk and instead practice his music here. He wasn’t allowed to attempt new songs here, however, as the bartender had explicitly forbid him from driving away good, paying customers with the ‘cat screechings.’ Apparently even drunk men did not appreciate the laborious task of developing new songs to entertain posterity and would not willingly sacrifice their eardrums for the sake of their children’s entertainment. A mug sat on the armrest of his chair, of the cheaper variety and very sadly half empty already. Berus decided to limit himself to just one nowadays so that he wouldn’t get into any trouble.

A cool breeze kicked in, threatening the roaring yet still tenuous fire that cackled in the fireplace, as a very, very large man entered the room. He was well over seven feet tall, exactly how tall Berus couldn’t tell from his vantage point. Tall enough for a poor five foot four man to consider the blue-skinned, muscled fellow a giant. Berus stared for a moment, jaw stupidly hanging, before he recognized the man as an Akalak; the proud people who generally resided far to the south. What he was doing here Berus could only guess at. He was obviously unhappy with the cold conditions if the frost on his eyebrows was any indication.

Berus looked the man up and down and decided that if the man suddenly turned dangerous he would have a hard time chasing Berus through the snow. He was a southerner, after all, and not used to plowing through the snow. He hopped out of his chair, placing his lyre on his back and picking up his mug, and walked toward the huge blue man. He scurried up, indeed, he felt as if he were a scurrying like a little mouse when faced with this behemoth, and smiled up at the Akalak. He offered one hand tentatively as he smiled and called up his greetings, “Hello there, Akalak, what is your name, and what brings you to my frosty home?”

[Cara]

Cara was sitting at a small wooden table in the corner of the tavern, away from the fire, and the prying and sometimes rather lustful eyes of the drunken male patrons. It was best when she remained away from things. Cara always seemed to invite trouble; starting fights just about everywhere she went. If not a full-blown fight, there was at least a good screaming match. She was running her fingers through her long black hair, her eyes flashing a playful emerald green as she looked around the bar. Several men were slumped over in their seats, alcohol dripping off the side of their chins and onto their bellies. Cara laughed. Men always make such fools of themselves, she thought, as she glanced around to see who could actually hold their liquor and remain awake. From the looks of things, there weren't many people of the sort left. Just a rather over-sized dark blue-skinned man, as well as Berus, who was lazily striking a tune on his lyre. Judging by how he played, he had more than likely had a bit to drink already. Cara sighed, she was more than a little tempted to start some trouble just to liven the bar up a bit. But she had promised herself that she would at least try to behave for the rest of the night, and simply laugh as everyone else did the fighting over something stupid. Something they'd surely forget by the next morning. Cara continued to run her fingers through her hair, if something exciting didn't happen soon, she may simply fall asleep in her chair, and that wouldn't be good. Sleeping left one too vulnerable as far as Cara was concerned. "Hey Berus!" Cara called across the bar. "Would you mind playing something a little more lively on that thing? It's a little dead in here, don't you think?" Cara asked. "Just play something fast and loose to get the blood flowing, that IS what you Snowsongs are good for right?" Cara chuckled. Hopefully he wouldn't just ignore her, as he often did. The music was sure to help the mood along. Music was like that. You could be happy one moment, but if you were listening to something sad, you often found that you would grow to feel that way soon enough. Always matching the music. It was Cara's hope that Berus would pick something that would piss everyone off, put them in a foul mood. Make them want to fight. After all, Cara wanted to be entertained, and she had some of the best seats in the house.

[Darren]

A pleasant evening, Darren thought as he put his back on the chair. He was already nodding off, occasionally falling into lapses of sleep before Berus's playing woke him up. Hmm...you'd think with him constantly playing he'd be a bit better he thought as he looked at his drink. The milk in his cup was causing a stalemate between Berus's wretched playing and his tired body desire to rest to continue. He didn't bother to look as the door opened and the bar got quiet as they looked to see who it was. I never understood that... alright alright let's continue with the usual he thought as he waited for the bar to continue with it's usual chatter. But for some reason he didn't hear anything, oddly enough. Hmm? he said as he turned to see what the holdup was, Sigh* Alright, what's going on? ...oh. He saw what looked to be one of the warrior races. An Akalak...that's new he thought as he looked at the individual lazily. Finishing his mug he looked around the table to see if anyone else had everything to say. "Hehe...Berus, ohh and lovely Cara too? " he laughed as he watched the scene between them.

[Danyella]

Danyella trudged through the snow with ease, a large bundle in her arms, and a long bundle on her back. She was annoyed that she had to come to this bar yet again to fix something. This bar always had bar fights which always broke something metal. This time though, it was easy, in the form of firepokers. Apparantly someone snapped the other ones over someone's skull. She wanted to make him some cast iron or steel ones but Rayvoris insisted on the cheapest, most brittle of iron. Oh well, his business stupidity helped her business. 

She arrived at the door to the tavern and attempted to nudge it open with her foot. The wind caught ahold of it, and ripped it off of it's hinges, slamming it into the tavern floor. Danyella sighed praying to Morwen that the hinges were still intact. She stepped into the warm threshold and over the door. That idiot bartender, Rayv, hadn't even noticed. She walked over to an empty table and set down the heavy bundle. She saw Berus sitting near the fireplace, and tossed the long bundle of firepokers at him. "Can you put those up hun?" hoping the bard would catch the bundle.

She walked back over to the fallen door and inspected the damage. She was relieved to see the hinges intact, and that the nails had just slipped from the wood. She knew there were some left over screws behind the bar from the last time she had to make a repair. She walked behind the bar and grabbed the sack of screws and walked back to the door. She attempted to pick it up but only managed to get it a few inches off of the ground. She set it back down and looked around the bar. She spotted the not so jolly blue giant and walked over to him. After living with her dad, large muscle bound me never intimidated her, "Could you help me lift this door please?"

[Azeran]

Koarhal felt a wave of peace wash over him as Azeran quite literally gave up struggling. It was almost like the lighter brother fell into a deep sleep, his presence wasn't even truly felt. Koarhal smirked to himself as he pulled his clothing tighter to his body, fur clothing he purchased from Riverfall to survive the Winter trek. If he had expected to end up in Taldera, things would have been a little different. Koarhal lifted his drink to his lips, about to polish off the remain third of his drink when a small man strode up to him. Koarhal's drink fell back to the tabletop, his mouth was no more quenched than before. he felt a shudder of disgust as the man spoke something to him. The only word he picked up was Akalak. Koarhal growled faintly, misinterpreting the tone and mysterious language as an insult to his race, perhaps because he was a newcomer and didn't fit in. Did this little Lyre-musician think he wouldn't face retaliation simply because Koarhal and Azeran were new to Avanthal? If he did, it was a mistake. Koarhal stood up tall, his form only reaching higher past Berus's head as the Akalak height drew to its peak. His eyes were fierce as the burned holes through Berus's head. Eyes to eyes. Koarhal knew that the first to look away was afraid or weak, and to stand there and refuse to look away was a challenge. Did Berus dare challenge the strange blue giant? Azeran spoke, his own tongue familiar with Tukant filled the room as everyone hushed. It was rare that an Akalak visited Avanthal. Who could know how to accurately respond? Koarhal ignored the welcoming, lingering handshake offer. "You'd best watch where you step Human. I have not traveled so many miles to be insulted by a rodent like you." Korhal's hands shot out, his index finger prodding Berus fiercely in the chest, he continued. "I have killed for simple insults as this. I won't hesitate to hurt you." Cara wanted excitement, and even though Koarhal didn't bother with even looking over her once, she was most likely watching him now. Conflict was rising swiftly. Koarhal was interrupted in his Tukant threats by yet another Vantha, a woman this time. She also spoke in this mystery language. Of course Koarhal knew it was logical for them to have their own words, but it was frustrating. He couldn't understand a damn thing, at least she didn't have any negative tone in her voice (not that Berus did). Still, she was probably taking Berus's side, trying to get Koarhal to calm down, perhaps suggesting she would call in guard or something like that. Koarhal looked back down at Berus. His hand reached over to his drink, then poured the liquid from it on Berus's scalp. A rather cruel chuckled echoed through Koarhal's smirking lips as he did this. "You can flee if you prefer."

[Berus]

Berus stood confusedly for a moment at the big Akalak’s reaction, for it was completely unexpected. Then he cursed himself for a moment; the man obviously did not speak a word of the Vantha’s language! He should have tried common! The big blue man spoke in some foreign language for a moment and a hand roughly came forward and poked the little bard hard in the chest, aggravating the bruise he gotten from his failed attempt to catch the bag of pokers. He felt as if he were being threatened like an adult would to a little child, being told merely not to mess around. To the seven foot giant Berus probably looked like a little child!

He paused for a moment to rectify his earlier mistake, deciding on the Common language as his best option for communicating as he didn’t really know whatever language the Akalak spoke. Their home city was too far south for him to consider that language one worth studying. Danyella walked up to the Akalak and asked him to help her hold up the door, but she also spoke in Vani and received a similar rude treatment. Berus’s eyes widened, knowing that the little smith wouldn’t take a poke in the chest without delivering her hammer right into his forehead. He started to speak, hoping to stop the fighting before it happened-

Then he felt the Akalak’s drink start pouring down his head and start dripping down onto his shoulders. What the…? were his only thoughts as he stood for a moment, completely stunned by the action. Did he really just…? He stepped backwards, away from this crazy man. He was no longer worried about Danyella planting a hammer in his forehead. Heck, he wouldn’t mind if she aimed it so he would never have the option to raise children that would randomly pour their drinks on people’s heads. Berus considered doing it himself, but he figured that the large, muscled man would block the blow and then send out one of his own.

That, Berus had no doubt, would probably send him into next season.

[Stitch]

Stitch sat in a far corner of the tavern, trying not to think of his earlier incursion in here. He had managed to out a scam artist, and in turn, had managed to help every single frequent patron accomplish the act of memorizing his blind face. He hadn't come to this place to draw attention, and lately, that was all he had been doing. He mumbled darkly to himself, and reached out for a mug of water that he had ordered earlier. He took a deep sip of it, keeping his head bowed. He didn't really even bother glancing around with his Auristic vision, like he normally came in here for. He usually just came to watch the people, but today, he just wanted to sit in a corner and rest. That was all his life consisted of these days. Resting and work. He had gotten a job at the Icewatch, and that was what he passed the time with. His job, and hours spent talking with Malia. He was just waiting for Summer to come so he could make the trip to the Watchtower. It was honestly a nice life. He liked not being noticed. It was pleasant to be in a town where he could just draw his hood over his head, and wander about without getting noticed. In Syliras, it was suspicious. Here, it was common. He could just go about his business, and not get bothered by the warm people of Avanthal. Not that they were bothers. He was just a blind man who used magic to see. The Icewatch had accepted him, but partially only because Jedara and Senari had commanded it, in a way. Or at least, that was what he thought. Perhaps his view of humans had just become a bit tainted since Syliras, and he couldn't help but be a bit cynical. Perhaps they really were as warm and accepting as they appeared to be. But, for as quiet and calm as he wanted the world to remain, the world was never willing to stand still. Another dark sigh blew from his lips as he tilted his head up a bit. No one would be able to realize who the cloaked figure was, not yet. He was fully robed in a woolen cloak, as well as hooded with that same piece of wool. He had pulled the wool down low, and had managed to sit in just a shadowy enough corner to attract some of that darkness to his hood. He was very well cloaked. That is what he had wanted. To be that dark guy in the corner no one ever approached. It had taken him days to find the corner. He was met with a whirlwind of Auras, from the large and hulking muscle of a man, to Darren and Berus, who he was familiar with. He didn't take a second glance at Darren nor Berus, as he was familiar with them already. Instead, he stared at the Akalak, genuinely a bit confused by the man. He had two seperate Auras. One was extremely tightly contained by the other one at the moment, but there were definitely two different... existances. How was that possible? His dominant Aura made Stitch feel uncomfortable, as well. He had seen a variety of angry, raging, beastial Auras... Darren, for instance, when he got mad. But this dual-souled creature? His entire Aura was on fire with violence and wrath, barely contained, ready to break out at any given moment. Stitch didn't feel comfortable with the man, and he felt slightly scared for the new visitor that suddenly approached, asking about a door. He didn't give her much attention. There was something much more interesting. That girl in the corner. Her Aura spoke of the same magics that Kamalia had used, the memory of which brought a slight ache to Stitch's heart. Reimancy. Interesting. That wasn't something that Stitch had seen in Avanthal. Not yet. It made him cautious. Even though he used magic, his was much less dangerous then what he had seen from Reimancy. A sudden surge in the Akalak's Aura brought Stitch's attention back to the blue man. He was obviously foreign, as signaled by the strange tongue he spoke in... and somehow, he had taken the cheery greeting delivered by the friendly Berus in quite a bad way. How he had done that, Stitch didn't know. But he suddenly felt protective of the young bard. Especially when he had his drink dumped on his head. A soft voice rang out across the tavern, firm and deep, speaking one word he hoped the Akalak would understand. "Stop." The minute he said it, he regretted it. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, and already he was beginning to fail again. That, and this dual-souled man... he was massive. Huge. Ripped. Stitch's voice suddenly came out again, but smaller this time. His earlier show of bravado would be almost amusing after his next words were heard. "The young lady needs your help with the door." He spoke meekly, and pointed to Danyella. In his sudden rush of fear, he had forgotten that the Akalak had trouble understanding common. He just had spouted out the first distracting thing to come to mind.

[Cara]

Cara smiled. It looked like she would have her way after all, if the Akalak had his way anyway. Considering how each of them was out for blood. Although Cara was more in the mood to watch from a safe distance, and the non-jolly blue giant, on the other hand, seemed to be flexing his muscles. Now he actually wanted to be involved in the fight. Cara began to laugh inwardly, trying to hide her amusement, and not draw any more attention to herself. Of course, she was more than a little tempted to comment on the situation. After all, the bard was about to get his ass kicked again. Cara internally wrestled with herself, she managed to contain her laughter for several minutes, but her mouth, on the other hand, was another story. "You may want to start running Snowsong," Cara called over the bar. "You'd be lucky if that Akalak does nothing more than smash your own lyre over your head. Now wouldn't you?" Cara's eyes were sparkling playfully as she placed her feet firmly on the ground, and then pushed her seat back. Within seconds, she was on her feet and crossing the bar to where Stitch was sitting. Cara reached him within seconds. She placed her left hand on his right shoulder, as she stood behind him. She stood for only a moment before she leaned in a little, so that her lips hovered by the blind man's right ear. "Why don't you do everyone a favor and quit playing the part of the translator?" Cara asked, her voice taking on an icy edge. "Some of us would like to watch a good old brawl. Especially when the winner is so obvious." Cara paused again. "So quit distracting the blue guy from the bard. Berus has it coming anyway, always playing his pitiful songs. So very off key..." with that, Cara straightened herself up before tightening her grip on Stitche's shoulder. Her fingers curled inwards, and into his flesh. Her nails seemed to pierce it. She seemed to be saying: remember that. As soon as she had finished applying pressure, Cara returned her hand to her side. Cara walked around to the other end of Stitche's table. Hopefully he'll remain silent and the real fun can begin. Cara leaned up against the other side of the wood, before placing her palms face down on the table. She pressed into them, and hoisted her body up, so she was sitting atop it. The water in the blind man's glass shook, and splashed against the side of the cup, until the table stopped trembling beneath the sorceress' added weigh. "This is sure to be a rather entertaining evening," Cara commented, as she stared at Berus and the Akalak. She could almost sense the bard's fear. Smell it. It reminded her of that day, many moons ago when she had chased him through the night for not upholding his end of the deal. She smirked. He never does realize when he is way out of his own league... or what is good for him. "You ever watch a brawl?" Cara asked. "Or taken part in one?" Her legs were swinging over the sides of the table, causing her heart to beat a little faster. Her excitement was merely becoming all the more tangible. It would be disappointing if the tension that lingered in the room, dissipated. "There is no shame in it, you know, if you have. It's good to get your frustrations out sometimes. In fact, it's more than likely healthier than holding it all in," she mused with a slight laugh. OOCOk normal text is Vani, stuff in italics is common. Bold are Cara's thoughts.

[Darren]

Darren tensed a bit as he saw the Akalak poke Berus. Looks like a communication problem, he reasoned starting to get up, If Berus is smart he'd better just leave it alone. He then went to the counter to ask for a new drink as Danyella entered the tavern. He chuckled as he saw Danyella throw the pokers at Berus but got a bit worried as he saw her walk over to them. He checked around the area to look for possible help against the blue intruder and saw Stitch and Cara in the corner of the room. He waved to them and motioned them at the Akalak ...well at least to Cara Hmph as long as nothing happens we should be good here...he thought as he took a sip from the cup. What happened next nearly caused Darren to choke on his drink. Splash* He whipped his around to see the outsider drench Berus with his drink a cruel smirk on his face speaking to Berus. At this Darren nearly snapped as he angrily glared at him and then at Berus and back to the Akalak. Oh no he didn't! he screamed in his head, he then looked around a plan formulating in his head. His eyes rested back on Stitch and Cara and nodded at his latest idea. Trying to keeping his aggressive tendencies in check as he averted the blue man's gaze and walked to the table with Stitch and Cara. "Hello Master Stitch, and Cara, my dear" he said looking back at the Akalak, seeing if it was looking at them. He looked to see Stitch not liking the tension in the area also and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, while smiling softly at Cara shyly. "Ready for some excitement?" he grinned as he then grabbed a chair and threw it into the air, getting into position as he hit the chair with a thrust kick sending it right at the Akalak. "Come on!" he said looking at the straight in the Akalak's eyes. He put on his gauntlets, a challenging glare and attitude in the air. "Oh yea! You...your gonna fight me." He said at the Akalak but pointing at Stitch, as if trying to instigate that it was him that hit the chair at him. He then called over to Danyella, "I'll help you with that later Dany. Just make sure you protect Berus."