Fragments of The Soul (IC) {M}

[Myr]

Ah, Prinem-a town balanced perfectly on the edge of nowhere, with its humid air and the distinct charm of a nearly suburban community situated by something likened to a cesspool. Add a few muddy streets, the slapdash quality of the buildings that suggested they were 'good enough' with the thick gobs of tar used for patching walls and how roofing shingles were held in place with rocks...it wasn't bad for a swamp-side community.

Such a shame it had to be a haven for anyone, much less anything, that didn't want to be found. Good for business at times though.

That's what the innkeeper was thinking as his eyes roved the small crowd within his place of business, the Shalebreakers' Haven. The 'fox' squirrel-Ferge was his name-had lived there his entire life, and he'd seen enough things that little fazed him anymore. Dragons-in their being form, obviously-demons, 'cubi by the dozens...and by the Night Wind, he'd even seen an angel! Or someone pretending to be one, at least. Not to mention other creatures, many of which he didn't even know the names of.

Thankfully it didn't seem like there was much out of the ordinary today. The carefully placed electric lamps-a new addition-were situated on high shelves to give a warm glow throughout most of the common room, and none were broken. The floor was polished ironwood, which he'd found wasn't quite prone to splintering but much more likely to burst into flame, and the walls were treated cedar that reflected the light duly. The chairs were sturdy, as were the tables...and after a few past incidents, firmly bolted into the floor.

The fireplaces added further light-one on the left side of the building, another on the right...since he couldn't yet afford a heating system. What mattered was that the inn was warm and moderately comfortable-if for a price.

Well, he amended as his gaze lingered on a wolfish being seated as near to the right fireplace as possible, almost normal. The chap had been there for a few days, and when the squirrel had asked politely what his business was, the seeming lupine had, with equal politeness, informed him that he was waiting on some folk.

The stranger's clothing were simple, yet oddly concealing and made out of soft, tanned hide...almost like an old-fashioned tunic and matching leggings, to be honest...and he was always attended by his companion-a male lynx whom wore similar clothing and watched any newcomers warily, triangular blade within easy reach. While the feline would rest in their designated room on and off, the lupine merely sat where he had from the first day, accepting offered food and drink while keeping his attention on the door. If he moved, it had to be when the innkeeper slept!

No matter though, as any further thoughts on the matter were promptly squashed as he was given an order for some of the stew they had leftover from lunch. It'll be a good day when he takes the ferry back to that hell he calls home, Ferge thought as he went to fill the order....

[Meany]

It had taken more effort than Dhōngami would ever admit to find the tavern, let alone the town.  Father would be immensely displeased, that the money he spent on a geography tutor had been for nothing, but again Dhōngami didn't plan on sharing.  The greater difficulty was procuring food, a daily necessity if he wanted to avoid diving into his glucose rations, which would only buy him two days at most.  People were frightened by his unique appearance, and the spear he carried with him; so any that didn't refuse to sell outright charged outrageous prices for their wares.

He'd probably lost weight, having to spread his meager coinage, for Father had repeatedly told him paper money was not worth carrying, and Mother would have ripped his tail off, again,  for not doing as Father instructed.  The woman was always trying to get into Father's good graces again, efforts which Dhōngami was happy to sabotage after regrowing his tail and wing for the second time.  Still, they had a point, paper bills would have been smuged to uselessness, given the amount of water he'd been exposed to; he'd learned the hard way that most currencies were printed with ink that never fully dried.  But back to the point; his diet had been mostly produce, and at one time he'd been lucky enough to obtain soybeans for necessary protein.

By the time he'd located the town, he'd definitely lost weight, and had spent his entire coin collection, down to the last copper; which had bought him a tasty cookie from a sweet little girl.  It was getting to the point that he either started on the candy, which was moderately repugnant, or start on his seeds, which was stupid.  Of course, locating the town didn't mean he had arrived yet.  And he spent a couple of days working; with his magic, helping seedlings grow into trees ready to be harvested for lumber-a practice Dhōngami had to bite himself to keep from stopping violently; he did some minor healing under the direction of the local overworked doctors; and sold a few spare pouches of his candy.  The labor had given him enough money to afford a ferry, and maybe, just maybe, an night in an inn. 

When he'd arrived at the Shalebreaker's Haven, he was tired, hungry, and looked the part of both rather blatantly.  He was quickly coming to despise the town, not only for its lack of fruit-bearing trees he could finagle into growing a snack for himself, but also the humidity which was screwing with his shoots air-sensing ability, and the mud which had nearly stolen one of his shoes.  Before entering, he brushed some dirt off his clothes, straightened his hair, feathers, and made sure Fumetsu's sheath was secure; in general made himself presentable.

The sight of the crowd of people, mostly dreadfully dull Beings, enlightened Dhōngami to a fact he had previously, overlooked.  He had no idea whom he was supposed to meet here.  An oversight he knew was going to end up badly for him, just like that cookie, which had given him indigestion for two days.

[VAE]

On an otherwise uninteresting day, one could see a rather mundane looking robed figure walking down the road. A worn hooded robe with small flecks of oil and other dirt which defied cleaning, a new-ish green cape fastened by a cheap brass trinket, and one of those new pairs of shoes made of waxed paper on top of compressed. glued rubber scraps, the only thing that raised any interest were the spiked steel shoulderpads... but then, years after the war such things were still easy to encounter, if one was willing to strip them from the remains of their previous owners - there were regions where peasants made plows from broadsword blades, and chopped down trees with double-bladed waraxes.
Little could be further from truth - the figure in question was Vladim, a lynx many thought and even more wished dead...
A master knows when to fight and when not to fight...  the only thing i miss is not seeing the look on their faces... That, and about 800 minions
He came to the billboard and started looking around.
A sizable note appeared since yesterday, which, at a glance, didn't appear like someone selling cattle or looking for protection from highwaymen for his caravan. The words "exceptional reward" resonated within his head, as well as the looks of the note. He smelled it and rubbed it with his finger - the writing was done in the juice of some plant or fruit, however, the note looked like genuine worked skin of something... or maybe someone.  Even nicer a surprise, a further note revealed that creatures of all, or better, nearly all races were accepted.
"Hmm, it seems someone really needs a job done." Vladim muttered to himself with a grin.
Looking briefly at a map, he set out in the direction of what seemed to match with Prinem.
Seems to be a rather small place... i hope it isn't just a bunch of better-to-do peasants (EDIT: added an escapee word) with a thief problem accidentally hiring a demon PR expert to advertise... We'll see - at worst, i can find some minions - youths in such places tend to be tough and poor, and thinking of better life...
He set towards the town, whistling "Country Road".


Three days' walk, and through the tinned rations he took on the way, a hungry, tired Vladim arrived to the swamp-side town of Prinem, which, well, looked like the kind of place one might encounter near a swamp. With little difficulty, he found the Shalebreakers' Haven, and walked in.
Noticing the squirrel owner, and a few inhabitants, he came to the squirrel.
"Greetings! May i ask... what's cooking today? And while you are at it, pour me an ale if you can."
Life changes around... a few months earlier, my desk had a paperweight made of a lead-filled skull of an adventurer, and now i am one... So far, i think i can see which part of it drove Dad to alcoholism. He frowned at the last memory, and waited for a response from the innkeeper.

[Boog]

Renald had just made the finishing touches on his new cloak. It was a little funny looking, succubus wing crinkled in this peculiar way for something that felt so velvety, but overall he was having a really great day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing...
He paid the local tanner for the use of his workshop. The man hadn't been willing to touch the materials he'd brought him. Appreciative of his taking care of the succubus, but... Surprisingly squemish. The woman had been stealing souls in the area, Renald really couldn't see the cause for such reluctance.
But he didn't hold it against the man. Not everyone could be... Strong. That's why Renald had to, for the other beings who couldn't.
He never stayed in a particular town for too long. He had enemies. A clan of dragons, any remaining family of a certain demon, and he wasn't entirely sure what the insectis' stance on his activities was. So it was on his way to the province of Malse that he saw the sign on the road.
It was... Intriguing. He rather wished the client had offered more info about themselves, but then, it was understandable. Prinem was a little out of his way; he tried to avoid more modernized towns. Those were more likely to have mixed communities. If a local creature was able to... Behave themselves, then he didn't have much choice but to let them alone. Which was a little foolish, really. He was certain they'd do something EVENTUALLY. Best to preempt it.
But then, perhaps he could do some good there...

Renald strolled into the Shalebreaker's Haven like he owned the place, in a benevolent landlord-y sense. He looked over the crowd briefly with a smile, before checking his torn-off stub of the posting. No description... Hrm. Either they'd find him or he'd find them. He made his way over to the bar, considering the barstools and deciding they probably wouldn't hold up him AND his armor.
"Excuse me, barkeep?" His tone was polite and conscientious. The picture of a gentleman, waiting until the lynx had received his drink rather than swaggering up like most adventurers. "An Ac'Corris ale, please." He left the coinage on the countertop, just a LITTLE more than the drink was worth, and surveyed the room.

[Myr]

Oh yes, there was a good mixture of races-predominantly beings currently-within that inn! From the trio of acolytes passing through on pilgrimage, or a few that looked like quite experienced mercenaries (Or were they merely bandits? It was hard to tell in some cases!) and of course a modest portion of the townsfolk. A couple even looked like fellow adventurers, grim-faced and discussing something in low tones. If there were any creatures, they were well-disguised, possibly out of habit.

Eyes flicked in the newcomers' direction as they came inside, before returning to their own affairs. True, some kept their attention a little longer-the two that looked to be adventurers in particular keeping a wary eye on the Creature to be sure he wasn't a threat! Otherwise it was like the folk here were hardly bothered by such strange sights, much less worried about them.

Well, okay. There was one other that had an interest in them.

That very same wolf, still seated where he had been for the past few days. His companion was away at the moment, attending to their own needs-they weren't necessary anyway, not at the moment. The lupine observed them each with hardly a flicker of expression, though perhaps at least the heavily armored canine-Renald-would notice those strangely glassy eyes looking him over with intense scrutiny when he'd taken out the stub to examine.

That aside, he seemed quite content to wait and watch a moment, seeing as the warrior was currently engaged in getting something....

"Hmm?" The innkeeper asked as he was suddenly confronted with a pair of orders...as well as a request for what was on the menu. From this range, it was interesting to observe how the fellow's left eye was slightly off-center, rolling forward to focus on whomever he was talking to. "Wanting to know what's available eh?" Amber orbs focused on the lynx seriously. "Well, currently we have a bit of stew made from a bit of this and that leftover from lunch, some sweetbread that'll be done within the next five minutes, as well as some recent delicacies brought in by, ah, some of our rather good friends."

It was worth it to notice the slight grimace at the mention of 'friends', before the squirrel continued. "I'd suggest having a strong stomach if you're wanting to try the dainties...but that aside, drinks, hmm?" Here he glanced at Renald as well, hardly batting an eye at the fact that the pro-offered payment was a bit more than expected for the requested liquor. "Ale, and some of the strong stuff. Not the ordinary travelers, I take it?"

By now he'd already turned away, but was definitely listening as he reached for a bottle, a pair of mugs...and quickly stepped over to a small set of barrels with labels-some in different languages-telling what was inside to pour the ordered drink. "Name's Ferge, by the way," He said in a conversational tone as he neatly slipped the lynx his ale seconds later and poured the doberman his drink, "Feel free to ask a few questions-I'll do what I can to answer, free of charge."

[Tipod]

Bart had been quietly sitting at the bar almost five minutes, and already he hated this nowhere town and this particular establishment. And it wasn't any fault of the residents, but just in how... lackluster the whole area was. It didn't have the fresh air and charm of a rural village or the slickness of a developed city. It all felt so halfassed, like the tired denizens just didn't care. Thankfully, this was just the meeting place. Their mysterious recruiter would probably show himself soon enough.

The demon's own outfit seemed like just as much of a compromise between old and new as the Inn itself: a thick, black flak vest with stiff metal collar and plates sewn across the front and back, worn over a black BDU shirt and dark gray slacks; flat, iron slab of a mask with straps; old army boots, shin and arm protectors made of tempered steel; a moderately-sized camping backpack; knife and pipe tomahawk affixed to his belt... his whole kit looked like some amalgamation of a police officer and an amateur mercenary. The kind of thing that screamed "city boy raiding the local army surplus."

To be fair, he'd raided the local army surplus and camping outlet before leaving for this jerkwater town.

He'd taken his mask off shortly after sitting down, figuring he may as well get some air. Not as if he'd be staying in this dump for very long. "Hey, barman, this place serve burgers? I'm jonesin' for one pretty bad."

[VAE]

Vladim looked at the squirrel ,introducing himself as 'Ferge' for several seconds, thinking.
I'll go with the stew, and maybe something else later - dying of hunger isn't fun and besides, it's bound to be better than those damn tins.
At least they were sterilised...
Grabbing the newly-arived ale, he spoke:
"So, Ferge, i think the stew and my insides will strike an alliance tonight. Just do make sure there's enough of it."
He paused, taking a mighty gulp of the ale. It tasted a little swampy, making him wonder.
Hmm, this brew either got baptised by the bar owner, or the folk making it haven't heard of a filter
However, it satisfied the body, and that was important.
"Now, as for the questions -  it's no use pretending i am from anywhere close around, especially with everyone and their horse staring at me and this fellow here. Soo...  what can you tell me about the town?  What do the folk do for a living around these parts? "
In the time, he turned to the massive doberman:
"Greetings, stranger." Glancing at his cape, he remarked further, with a smile: "You have a refined taste in material. There's plenty of that cattle around, but few get to tan the leathers"  (EDIT: Factual error - the cape is made from a bat-winged one as boog said me)
Hmm, what a pity - this one  would make an excellent enforcer... now he is here either because he heard of the job, or about me... and both options suck... But then, why didn't he whack me when i was too busy with the ale to notice him?
Waiting for a response from either, Vladim took down another gulp.

[Meany]

Dhōngami allowed himself to look like a lost puppy for a few minutes while he tried to compartmentalize this turn of events.  Going through all the effort of coming to this repugnant township, and being blindsided like this did not sit well with the part-angel.  Not having the right questions to ask to locate his potential employer, which he should have planned on the ferry, was particularly galling.  Regardless, the issue was properly isolated, letting him resume proper functions, dealing with it once it came to the forefront of his various issues again.

Right now, he needed to get some food in his stomach, before he had to turn on his candies.

Approaching the bar, let Dhōngami see the more interesting variants of the default Being; namely what appeared to be a caped priest wearing spiked shoulder pads, and a Canine swathed in a cape made from...wings?  Dhōngami brought his own wing closer to his torso, on the odd chance the canine was looking to start a feathered variant, and stood near the bar, waiting his turn for the barkeep's attention, as was polite.

"Umm...sir?"  The plant-ish Creature inquired uneasily, ears drooping; the looks he was getting were not conducive to confidence, after all.  "Do you happen to have any more of whatever it is that smells so wonderful?"  Yes, he was lying through his teeth, but embellishing the truth was a specialty of his; and he found it had a way of lowering the listed price on goods, if done well.  But he didn't have the energy right now, so blatant work would have to suffice.

Depending on the squirrel's response, the part angel would either fetch his remaining monies, and pay for the meal, or sigh, and slink off to find an unused table and start munching the semi-spherical candies he'd stockpiled. 

[Cogidubnus]

Ah, the swamp.

Cog slapped a mosquito and stepped gingerly across a a small scum-encrusted puddle that was threatening to turn into a stream, and began to look for the Shalebreaker's Haven - not that it was that hard, in a town like this. He looked for the building that looked like it had been abandoned in the swamp only fifty rather than a hundred years, and then approached closer.
"A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth, turns and twindles over the broth, of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning, it rounds and rounds Despair to drowning..."

"Swamps have their place, I suppose." he said, crossing one such black pool, and taking a look at the sign hanging from the tattered building.

Sure enough. The Shalebreaker's Haven.

The wolf adjusted his belt just slightly - and to the discerning eye, put the hilt of the sword just past his middle, so that the handle was even with his opposite hip. He lifted the larger sword off his shoulder, and held it edge-up in his left hand.
That was one of the problems with a sword like that. You had to carry the damn thing around. He gave himself a wry grin.
Somehow, things always began like this.

He opened the door and walked in. Surprisingly, the air was a bit cooler inside than outside. Electric lamps dotted the walls. He hadn't expected that kind of class this far away from everything. As he took a few steps inside, he looked around.
A strange looking man with one wing and looking like he had chlorophyll for blood. A spear-user, buying some food. The other wolf in the corner also caught his eye, but Cog knew how to play his particular role. He'd wait until contacted. Some fellow with...no face, apparently, was asking for a hamburger. Fair enough. The armor he wore bespoke adventurer as well.
The fellow with the warhammer worried him. He was fairly certain he recognized bits of creatures he was using as his armor, and the fellow looked all the world to him like a being. That meant he was either an incubus, or was this year's winner of the Captain Balls award.

He walked up next to the thin-looking Lynx, and took a seat. Just one more part to play here.
He set the larger sword down, so it was resting on the bar, but kept the tassel corded in his hand. "Whiskey." the wolf said, and gave a grin. "And whatever you got on the stove."
He put a silver coin on the table, and waited.

[Myr]

"Is that so?" The rodentine fellow said with a smile-oddly enough, he lacked those bucked teeth everyone was used to seeing for squirrels. Maybe he just took good care of them? Who knew, as he kept his gaze on Vladim and slipped Renald his drink with casual efficiency. "Well then, show me the color of your money-if it's money at all-and we'll see that said alliance is finished as soon as the transaction's made, won't we?" If one wondered, he was referring to the fact that one might trade a trinket or bauble instead, assuming whom he was talking to happened to be an adventurer.


****
Even as the innkeeper spoke, that strange lupine kept his eyes-for the most part-on said Doberman. The others making their way into the inn were of little interest at the moment-they didn't show a sign of having the same item as the armored canine, afterall. The strange, quite reptilian visage of Bart hadn't disturbed him at all either-in fact, before Renald had entered, the man had been more interested-if unobtrusively-in Bart's appearance. Still, work first, curiosity later. Those equally strange eyes briefly noted the half-angel once again, before lingering for a moment on the newest arrival.

Whatever he thought was strictly for himself, but seeing he was noticed the fellow seemed to smile as Cog passed-there was one that seemed to realize his purpose, or it could be just happenstance-a fellow wolf thinking he was greeting one of his own.  In either case, the recruiter would get to them soon enough-if the object of his attention didn't approach him first.

****

"And just a second on showing it to me," Ferge said mildly as he also swept up the offered coins from said uniquely armored canine and put them under the counter. He panned his head just enough to bring the scaled chap into view. "A burger? I suppose we can whip one up, but don't expect those fancy buns you see in other places." Or, he decided not to mention, some of the other things you're used to. "Just give me a moment, and I can see about getting one going for you."

Really, the squirrel seemed to have his work cut out for the next few minutes! Good thing the innkeeper was good at keeping track of details-but like the fellow Cog had noticed, work came first, idle gossip in spatters between it!

He glanced at the plantlike fellow named Dhōngami, even as the rather normal-seeming wolf sat down next to the lynx. Looks rather like a cat, he decided before speaking. "Wonderful, hmm? I suppose you can call it that." He smiled again. Possibly he'd encountered this type of act before, or was taking the false compliment at face-value. "And we'll see. How much do you have? And eh?"  An ear perked at Cog's voice.

Egh, creepy! He deliberately let his off-center eye roll back into it's more normal position so he could look at Cog. "Whiskey? Not sure I have anymore in stock, seeing as that lot-" he nodded briefly towards the oddly mercenary-like chaps, "have been swilling it down for the past three hours. As they put it, they're relaxing before heading out on some campaign or other. I'll see what I have handy, so hold onto your coin while I get someone to look." He looked over his shoulder, to where a sliding door that very nearly matched the wall could be seen. "Kaine! Check for some whiskey, and be sure that bread doesn't catch fire! You botch that up again and I'll be sure to send you right back to that shrine you hail from! That or poke your toes with a heated skewer!" Then he paused. "And be ready to fill some orders before you try and steal some of that ground beef again!"

There was a muffled acknowledgment from within as the fellow huffed. "Kitsune and their learning programs," he muttered, "And I get stuck with a whelpling kit whom almost can't tell a skillet from the spatula. Anyway," He clapped his hands together, his attention briefly on Vladim again. "What now, fellow? Questions about Prinem? Might as well call it a hideout for the more mortal hellspawn out there. We get'em all, with a few of the more longer-lived ones like Dragons and even a few other Creatures. Then of course there's our dear friends, whom I won't speak of even if you pay me." He shrugged. "As to what we do here-it varies. Some fish, some farm, some dig up peat from the fringes of the local cesspool-others cater to travelers like I do, and there's even a ferry into the swamp-though most folks would be bloody fools to go in there without permission." Ferge shook his head, before smiling a little. "Now, anything else before I see about filling these here orders?"

[VAE]

"Business first, i suppose" Vladim said with a smile. The barman wasn't stupid to give out anything of more worth than the ale, and as it went, non-stupid people gained a small sympathy point with Vladim.
He shuffled in his pocket and took out a silver and a hand full of coppers of various forms and shapes, pretty much from all over the land, and placed it mid-way between him and the barman.
"I assure you the color of my money is satisfactory, although the shape might vary sometimes... Now, we only have to agree on how much of them shall change an owner tonight"

As he spoke he noticed a wolf with a rather warrior-like appearance, and something vaguely catlike coming in and as if  that wasn't bad enough, the wolf decided to sit right next to him.
Hmm...  more of them...  this swamp seems suspiciously lively. I guess the old "It pays to advertise" slogan was right.   That fellow there looks like some of Sergej's lab specimens when we were working out how to enhance the minions...  But at least, with the bunch of them around, any one isn't likely to start a fight


The remark about wonderful smells nearly caused Vladim to choke on his ale.
*he-kch* *chroak*
Heh...  either whatever experiment they did on him messed up his nose, or his facial muscles - saying this with a straight face... He might as well claim he's an angel, and the shoots are just a new fashion trend
The innkeeper began to speak about the town, and somebody back there shouted for a hamburger. Vladim turned , and noticed a fellow making up in junk-crafted equipment what he lacked in facial features.
He glanced at the plantlike at the bar again, and shook his head.
"Hideout for more mortal hellspawn... seems about right "  he said to himself.
"Right, since you are as nice as to mention your friends... are any of them within the tavern perchance?"

[Boog]

Renald took a swig of his drink, eying the man who'd addressed him casually. Was this his contact? Didn't seem like it- the fellow was already talking to someone else. Jumpy little man. Seemed like the sort who said things like "They called me mad!" A lot. But, from what he'd had to say, they at least had a bit in common. He made a mental note of it; if he was going to be in this town long, it was good to know who was likely to be useful.
The others who'd arrived weren't anything for him to take particular note of. The lupine swordsman was probably here for the same reason as he was. The man looked capable with what he carried, and he could respect that. Too many adventurers weighed themselves down with things they didn't need or didn't know how to use. The young fellow... were those plants growing out of the poor boy? He caught himself staring and focused the brunt of his attention back on his drink. Magic or poor hygine? Regardless, the boy looked hungry. Renald didn't like creatures at the best of times. Even now, he was looking at the lads wings more than his face. But he felt bad for him, all the same.
The flat-faced fellow asking for a burger less so. Seemed like the sort to start knocking down walls when he had a few drinks in him. He knew the type.
Finally, in scanning the room, he briefly locked eyes with the other wolf, the one who'd been looking at him.
No, wait... At the tab in his hand.
Rolling it between his fingers, Renald strode over to the man's table and sat down, casually, nodding politely to the lynx as he did so. He sipped his drink again, before holding up the stub of paper and raising an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but do you recognize this?"
He had a voice that rumbled, in a trustworthy sort of way. A voice that could say the words "Verily" without the slightest hint of awkwardness. A square-jawed, sports announcing sort of heroic.

[Cogidubnus]

"No Whiskey? Man could die of thirst!" Cog said, but his expression was hardly displeased. He gave the bartender a patient smile, and watched the man in the armor walk away from the bar to go sit next to the lynx and wolf in the middle of the room.

He turned his stool halfway around, and with an air of patient curiosity, waited, and listened.

Although it wasn't apparent where he'd gotten the thing, he rolled a gold coin between his fingers - on one side the sun, and the other a cloud and deep scratches of rain. It somehow sparkled in the dim light of the tavern.

[Meany]

The part angel turned ever so slightly to watch the new wolf enter.  Warning bells rang in his head as he saw the sword, making Dhōngami forget his hunger for a second.  When that second passed, and the wolf sat without incident.  Now to turn his attention to the barkeep; Dhōngami reached into his satchel, groping around for his money purse.  The contents were meager, mostly copper with a two silver pieces, one being obviously larger than the other.  He also had a coin of what he assumed to be electrum; Father had insisted his education of money be thorough,  but given that such coinage had fallen into disuse, he didn't trust it to pay for much.  But this was going to be tricky, Dhōngami just knew it from the barkeep's choice of words; asking how much he had, instead of listing the going rate implied the seller was going to charge a bit north of the usual.  But he'd come to expect it.  Dhōngami fetched out the larger of the two silver coins, and three copper pieces,and held them out.

Droop ears, check, shift weight, check, make small disgruntled sounds, check; make it quite clear you are uncomfortable with spending 'all your money'.  "Is...is this enough?" Dhōngami swayed a little, half to give the impression hunger was clouding his mind, and half because it really was.  The angel started to get an itch in his wing; it felt the same way when you know someone's watching you, but isolated in the feathered limb.  Stretching it out slightly seemed to quake the sensation away, for the moment.  Whether or not the barkeep took the money, Dhōngami would look start looking around for an open table. 

Creepy dog with the wingcape was leaving to talk with another dog, a wolf from the looks of things.  This let the part-angel relax a little, and then he saw it.  It, was a reptilian looking creature, with little in the way of a face, outside of eyes, and dressed in army surplus clothes, sitting at the bar.  It looked to be of the male persuasion, but given some of the women Dhōngami had seen working farmland, he did not assume anything. 

While he looked for a table, after having torn his gaze away from what Dhōngami assumed to be a variation of Mythos, the part-angel examined the prospects for his new employer.  The drinking adventurers were a likely group of suspects, but nothing could be assumed yet.  Dhōngami rapped his fingertips against Fumetsu's shaft, and, if the barkeep had accepted the money, take his food to an either unused, or sparsely populated table to eat, preferably not the one Captain Balls and the wolf were occupying.

[Tipod]

Man, all this talk about drinks was making Bart thirsty. "You guys sell sod--" Oh, who was he kidding. What the hell kind of inn served soda? "...sell Stuport Gold? It's the beer of kings, you know." If this place didn't serve the kind of burger Bart had in mind (an all-beef patty with buns being the basic template here), he'd need something to wash the taste out with.

Around then, he noticed the strange mythos giving him a look over. Not that Bart really held it against people when they stared, but this town's atmosphere and general populace was making him crabby. "...the hell're you staring at?" He could scarcely tell just what Dhōngami even was, species or racewise.

Sheesh, and I thought I looked weird.

[Myr]

The fellow didn't even blink as the canine 'knight'-if one wanted to use that term-settled down and spoke to him directly. Then again, he didn't have to. When seen up close, those eyes were distinctly reptilian-each covered in a clear, polished scale and complete with the narrow slit of a pupil. True, he had eyelids, but if they served a purpose...well, one had to guess, outside of keeping that glossy surface clean.

His companion eyed Renald warily, those curiously tufted ears perking as he kept that triangular blade within easy reach. Clearly the feline was quite loyal to this strange fellow, and would leap to his defense if it seemed necessary. Either that or he was just cautious. Hmm...

"I recall it quite clearly," he said in a soft, dry voice, "Seeing as it was made with my own skin. My dearest companion here held the knife, just as I asked him to." The lynx shifted slightly, glancing at the strange lupine with surprise. One could almost swear he was wondering if his friend was trying to get him in trouble!

"Oh, and while he understands us, he won't speak in your tongue-he has quite the dislike of it, you see." A trace of a smile graced the oddly narrow muzzle-it had looked so normal from a distance!-before he continued.  "Having someone talented in healing magic like him is quite useful as well, I daresay, when lacking quality materials from other sources." Delicate fingers reached to take the parchment...even as it might dawn on the Doberman that the fellow he was talking to had just informed him that the stub had once been a part of his body!

"Now, what do you want of me?" The fellow said-possibly interrupting such thoughts, "Are you perhaps just curious, or are you seeking to perform the service we require?"

*****

The  innkeeper opened his mouth to reply to the priestly-seeming lynx...before glancing at the curiously reptilian demon. "I heard that first bit-if you're wondering, we do have soda...but I'm not sure as to the brand o'beer though-the good stuff's a bit sporadic here-and I'm sure you've seen part of the reasons." He glanced at the small barrels speculatively for a moment. "Seems I'll have to check," he said with a shake of his head before smiling at a certain werewolf's comment.

"And as to dying of thirst," the squirrel said with a wink in Cog's direction, "We'll see. Otherwise you'll have to take it up with that lot, and see if they'll spare a bottle." The rodentine fellow pointed towards the group of ruffians. The lot were talking amiably at the moment, passing a bottle and clearly recounting various ordeals they'd been through. Heh, interesting lot, to be sure.

Now, he would have turned away to head into the kitchen here...if not for Dhöngami putting on his partially feigned act.

Interesting show, but Ferge wasn't moved by it. Well, okay, maybe a little. Amber eyes flicked toward the coinage, clearly gauging the value before taking the three coppers. "We'll see what I can get you," the chap said mildly as he turned towards the kitchen.

"Oh, before I forget," the squirrel said as he paused right at the door and looked over his shoulder at Vladim, "I'd rather not say if one's here...but, if you're thinking of taking up with one, why not join that paladin-ish chap?" He gestured vaguely in Renald's direction. "I'd suggest you keep your distance though myself-they've got strange values and care little for others' opinions on'em." Not to mention they'd soon as show you their ideal of bodily harm as not, he added quietly to himself as he slipped through the door.

In seconds one could hear a distinctly vulpine yelp followed by a dull thwack that sounded suspiciously like a newspaper-yep, it could be a moment before he came back with anything...ah well, at least it shouldn't be long, if at all, before things were doled out in proper fashion....

[VAE]

hmm,  so at least i know who to meet with....  how the hell did the dog figure it out - the skin had nothing such written, nor did he ask the barman ... He shuffled a little Maybe it's just me being obtuse on an empty stomach and it was somehow obvious... well .. who cares now
He noticed the barman leaving to the kitchen.
"I appreciate the advice, but before i go to see them, in any case i should get to know the stew.. and perhaps one of those hamburgers as well."
The hunger was making him rather tired by now ,but he didn't mention it as a starving customer would give the barman a hint to dump all kinds of leftovers on him, knowing he won't be very picky.
He turned around to see what is happening at the table , but still keeping track of the small pile of coppers, and the silver.
So, another wolf ... and a lynx...
Hmm, better than the wolves... or maybe not - after all that bitch was a lynx too, indeed

[Boog]

Renald blinked twice at the man's reaction. His eyes went back to the fragment, examining it more closely. Before he believed it to be some form of vellum, or other fine paper. It didn't feel like hide at all. If anything, it was slippery and soft as something still alive. His eyes attracted more attention though. The scale-eyelid, the shape... The other fellow, with the shoulder armor, seemed like something that could be explained by magical contamination. His mother drank from some enchanted pool, or his own works with the arcane had jumped back and bit him. This fellow's alterations, in the muzzle and eyes were too... Total. The eyes, the muzzle. Even his mode of speech and mannerisms seemed... Off. Maybe more of some breed of mythos, meant to resemble a being. Wouldn't be the first time nature'd made a predator look like its prey.
Looking a man in the eye was supposed to be an act of trust, but Renald's look had shifted to something... appraising. He wasn't looking at a face. He was examining the eyes. And he didn't want to hand over the stub anymore.
But then, if I find out it if it does somethin', I know where there's more now.
Reluctantly, he passed over the scrap and gave his best friendly smile... To the lynx.
"Well, those who didn't grow up to the language can have trouble with it. I've had a fellow from Aeskin tell me it's harsh on the throat from him. Is there a language he prefers? I speak some broken Fengos... My Northern Demonic's very poor, but I can manage it. I would hate to be rude." He chuckled and went on, becoming more businesslike as his attention shifted to the 'wolf', "But, I digress. I'm... interested, in helping you, but I would need to know a bit more before I promise anything. Starting with your name."

[Myr]

Ah, now that was different, being examined in such a manner! There was a cold, emotionless quality to those orbs that seemed to say nothing existed there-wait, there was something! What little one could discern was something like a challenge-no, an invitation to see what they could discover...if only one would try. And yet, it seemed remarkably like he was vaguely mocking the Doberman somehow....

Or perhaps they were just imagining that....

As it was, the creature took the fragment with only the slightest of nods...and after a brief examination, did something that was no doubt quite unexpected. There was a flash of teeth that reminded one of a bone saw in design, and the scrap was gone in a heartbeat. Where it went was quite clear, as the recruiter swallowed the scrap with little care for whom was watching-or listening, for that matter. Egh.

As for his companion...the feline blinked, an ear quirking slightly at the friendly smile. Clearly he didn't know how to respond, and with a rather uncertain look at the wolfish creature-whom merely glanced back-simply shook his head and shifted nervously in his seat.

"It's not so much that he doesn't speak other languages," the fellow said after he swallowed, "But more of that he hates them, as do most of our companions. And I assure you, none of those specific ones are within his vocabulary. But like yourself, I digress." 

The creature leaned forward, oddly catlike ears perking intently. "My name, you say?" One could swear those eyes narrowed, looking Renald over with much greater seriousness-or at least that was the impression as his voice became a dusty hiss. "My full name is of no real importance to you, mammal." Then he shrugged, suddenly looking rather indifferent. "But it looks like you'll insist, and I have plans for behaving during my stay. So be it, you may call me Réanmarl." The way he said it was remarkably strange-fluid yet guttural,  with an indefinable accent. Then he nodded at the lynx sitting with him. "And he is Cori, in your tongue."

"Now that you know part our names...what is yours? " Réan head tilted slightly. "And ask away on what you wish to know-I take a great pleasure in answering questions...provided they're in my ability to answer."

****

And of course, while Renald and the creature were busy, other things were happening as well-perhaps not as important right then and there, of course....

If the innkeeper heard that last request before he got onto said vulpine...one would find out soon enough, as the rodentine chap slipped back through the door with what was already done! Of course, there was ample time for everyone to talk to each other before then, since it still took a moment or two.

A small, rimmed plate with a piece of sweetbread and a bit of the stew-whatever it was, the broth had thickened to a nice gravy and hid the nature of the ingredients quite well-set to one side was balanced on his head, while the thick curve of his tail was keeping a bowl of the same stew from spilling. In one hand, he was holding onto a small bottle of whiskey-unfortunately not what Cog was after, and clearly equal to a little over a cup or two-and a mug of beer that smelt oddly fruity.

"Burgers will be on the way shortly," he grunted as he set the bottle in front of the wolf and casually slipped the mug over to Bart, "And sorry I don't have what you're after, either of you. Whiskey's from a place to the east called Alten, while the beer's a local brew-the maker puts a few fruits in with the hops while they brew-cuts back some of the bite. Now, let's see here...a bowl of stew to start with for you." The bowl was set in front of Vladim, "And here's what a few coppers gets you fella." The plate went to the half-angel. There were no spoons, or other cutlery-probably for safety reasons, given what folk he got in here.

Then Ferge's attention flicked back to the caped lynx he'd just given some stew, "And you caught what I said about one of our...ah, friends being here, right? I'll tell you, he came in a few days ago, saying he was expecting some folk." Then he shrugged. "Maybe you're one of them, if you're asking about him. Anyway, just a moment." He readied to head back into the kitchen-though if one wanted to catch him for something else, there was a chance to do so, at least....

[VAE]

Looking at the three back at the table, Vladim noticed the wolf eating the piece of scroll the armored doberman handed to him before.
Hmm, that's something to do with confidential info... if the order doesn't come soon, i'm going to have a chat with them too - if i'd lose the job because of that, i might as well swap my cape for a dunce hat


After a minute or two, Vladim heard the tavern owner talking again, and when he turned he was presented with an amusing image - the squirrel used every empty part of his body to carry some order...
Finally.... i think i will down this, and while the burger's cooking i'll check out the "friends"
He turned to the bartender.
"Yes, i did catch that - in fact i'll be going there just as i deal with the stew" he paused for a moment. "You folks seem to have a real thief problem here", he grinned, and took out a folding spork from inside his robe.

If one ignored the slight (and sometimes not slight at all, depending on the piece) smell of old meat, the stew was surprisingly tasty, probably because of the plethora of spices thrown in to camouflage the age of the ingredients, Vladim's diet of various tins that weren't made with much more regard to quality, and chiefly, the fact that the last time he ate was yesterday around mid-day.
Finishing the bowl rather quickly,  and downing the rest of the ale, he licked the spork, wiped it, and his mouth with the sleeve of the robe, and used the same to clean his mouth from foam and stew remains.

"Call me when the burger's done!" he shouted towards the kitchen, stood up, and walked towards the table where the doberman, wolf and lynx were seated.
Damn, i left my cash in there.... anyways, it's just a bunch of coppers.. and if anyone tries anything, i guess it will be an opportunity to demonstrate my "job-related skills". He began to snicker a bit.

He sat down next to the doberman on the lynx's side, noticing the blade he was playing with, and began talking.
"Greetings....  " he thought for a few seconds "My name is Vladim. I think that i don't need to insult your intellects by explaining why i came over here, so, if you don't mind," he looked around the three faces "i would be... interested in the details of the .. job, so to say"

[Kafzeil]

The door to The Shalebreaker's in opened once more and yet another Creature strolled in.

Not so much "Strolled" as lumbered. His fur and feathers ruffled,shoulders hunched, and a look on his face that screamed "I'm having a bad day Please Good Sir, Would you Kindly leap off a Cliff?"

His clothing was fairly upperclass, though indicated he was from, or preferred, more modern civilization. And right now he confirmed it. This damn little town desperately needed at least some form of law enforcement for the roads. Travel in these parts could get your head on a pike.

Thanfully the highwaymen where a good combination of kinda stupid and very cowardly. Kaf had only needed to dispatch too before the others ran for there lives. Off course, he had fried one with bolt of electricity, and bashed the other's skull in. His war hammer, slung over his shoulder had a splatter of very fresh, warm, red blood. Might as well ask for a towel to clean Charlene off...

Kaf slumped down on a random barstool, not really paying all that much attention to the other patrons, as he waited for turn to be served, he started mumbling something about how he'd never take directions from a Dimanika Clan ever again.

[Cogidubnus]

The wolf swordsman wrinkled his nose a little bit, still flipping the small coin between two fingers. He nodded absently at the bartender, and took the offered bottle without much comment. He took a sip.
The bitter taste of hops, mellowed out a bit by what tasted like apples. Or whatever passed for fruit in this swamp.

It wasn't bad.

He took another sip, and then took a deep breath, smelling the air. He eyed the wolf and lynx closely - almost like he was looking for something. He stood up after a moment, bringing his larger sword with him in his free hand, and walked across the floor to the table slowly, standing next to the canine knight.
"I too found your notice, and found it...curious." he smiled. "Not quite any trouble like the kind you find in want ads."

He turned to the more talkative of his two prospective employers. "Is there a particular language you would prefer conversing in? I speak a somewhat formal draconic, and a few other odds and ends. One hates to be rude."

[Meany]

The part-angel did not particularly care what the others at the bar were doing, there was something much more important on his agenda.

Food.

Dhōngami thanked the barkeeper, and took the plate, after returning his silver coin to his satchel.  As he was walking around, looking for any vacancies at the tables.  Before he left the vicinity of the bar, however, there was manners to observe.  The mutant had asked a question, and it would be rude not to answer.

"I was looking at Sir, of course."  Dhōngami nearly sang as he passed by on his quest for a table.  The new food, no matter its quantity or quality was still nourishment.  Beyond that, he could care less.

While he shopped-there were multiple factors that went into table selection, after all-the freak's mind drifted over to the quickly populating table near the fire.  He had no proof that the occupants were indeed the ones responsible for the add; nor could he last long through an interview if they were.  At a loss, Dhōngami turned to his companion, the seemingly dead spear he was toting around.

Fumetsu was actually very much alive, in part due to Dhōngami regularly feeding the weapon energy to keep it from dormancy, and due to the natural stubbornness of the tree species it was a member of.  And while Fumetsu was even younger than Dhōngami, and had few ways to perceive the world without the part-angel feeding it sensory data, Fumetsu had a knack for picking up things the biped could not.  Subtle things, which the spear was not equipped to properly explain.

Walking around, glancing at various tables throughout the tavern, Dhōngami sent a bit of his Plant magic into the spear, establishing a mental connection between the two.  It had been days since they communed, and thus Fumetsu was...sleepy would be an accurate approximation.  The part angel shared his information with his partner, particularly his unease at the presence of the wingcaped canine.

...answerjoingrove...  The spear slowly sent over the connection.  Fumetsu's frequent exposure to Dhōngami's 'higher' brain functions made it more easy for the two to communicate, the weapon even grasping certain concepts that naturally grown plants would not.

Dhōngami did not like the spear's answer.  Really.  And evidently Fumetsu picked up on his misgivings, for it sent another message over the link.

...statementgrowtesticles...  Dhōngami stared aghast at his partner, who had broken the connection on its end; Fumetsu was rarely so commanding.  So, swallowing down his unease, the part-angel changed course.

Dhōngami tried to look professional as he walked toward the table where everyone seemed gathered, tried being the operative word.  He still looked like starvation was setting in, and was obviously in need of sleep.  And he probably looked awkward, carrying a spear in one hand, and a plate of food in the other.

"Does this little party have room for one more?"  He'd meant to sound aloof, but his words came out as more a sigh than anything.  He'd taken up a position on the feline side of the table, glancing periodically at the two canines from the bar.  This glancing enlightened him to another patron of the tavern; a patron of the winged variety.  He did not pay attention long, however.  The newcomer seemed even more weary than Dhōngami did at the moment.  The choice of attire hinted at Angel, but the blood on the hammer made him think Incubus.  Father had limited his exposure to other Angels that he unconsciously compared them to the old manipulator; even knowing they couldn't all be like him.

Someone would have begun actively killing them off, were that the case.

[Tipod]

As the little mythos wandered to join the others, Bart hung back. The wolf and lynx looked like the head honchos he needed to partner up with, but...

"Ferge, did you mention just what the deal with those two is?" He gestured back to the out-of-towners and their rapidly-forming group. "They, uh... don't look like they're from around these parts." Some declaration from a Creature like Bart. He took a sip from his mug, swallowing flatly. Yeah, he'd be avoiding fruit-brews in the foreseeable future.

"In fact, I'd go so far as saying they don't look right." They almost looked like skeletons wearing the wrong skins, if that made any sense.

[Boog]

Renald learned a lot, looking over the man across the table. The challenge told him the man was confident. The teeth confirmed his suspicions that he was a creature. His careless manner in regards to the skin-scrap told him that either he had nothing to hide or expected nobody to step forward about any oddities. The most telling, however, was the slight outburst when asked to give up his name. The way he hissed the word mammal. A slow smile spread across the canine's face, like a man finding he had some unexpected vacation time coming up. A tell like that at a recruiting meeting told him the man he was talking to was stupid, or something closely approximating it. And that made everything much easier.
The lynx... Frankly, the lynx's manner was confusing, but... Familiar. It reminded him of the mindset of some in his own town, the ones who never questioned having Red Fen around. A plan was coming together...
... Was that young man with the red eyes coming over here? Oh, oh dear.
It took Renald every scrap of self control he had not to groan when the young man had sat down and openly engaged in negotiations. He'd been in the middle of something.
"Yes, well, that's what we're trying to hash out right n-"
They were swiftly joined by the man with the two swords from earlier, as well as the mythos. He'd started a trend.
"Yes, but- Ah-" Renald's shoulders slumped. In retrospect, if he'd wanted a private negotiation, he should've gotten the both of them in PRIVATE.
Right. Well. Adopt, adapt and improve.
He nodded to the fellow adventurers sitting down around the table.
"My name is Renald Dirkassen," he began, gesturing that the winged fellow with the plants (a young man he'd already mentally nicknamed as "Squeaky"), "And lets start with the straightforward questions. I assume that whatever community you represent doesn't live in the middle of suburbia. How far from civilization are we going to be? What EXACTLY are you offering as payment? And you haven't given specifics on what KIND of personal harm we risk. Are we walking into a war zone or a ruin? You mentioned people hidden in your group..." He made a rotating motion with one hand, indicating that the man keep going with the description.

[Myr]

Heh, food could wait, it seemed! A newcomer, and a rather interesting question made the squirrel pause just as he was about slip back into the kitchen.

"Just a second," he said politely to the scaled demon, before glancing at the clearly tired, agitated Angel. He had no trouble telling what race the fellow was-there was just some quality about Kafzeil's race he'd learned to identify from his last encounter. "And may I help you, good sir? Food, drink, a room to put your weapon for convenience...? Even a bit of information?" Then he looked to Bart again, feeling that the newcomer would want a moment to think of what he'd like, before answering his question.

"Those two?" He echoed flatly-even as the lynx left the table. "Oh, they're from around here-in fact the wolfish chap's lot have been here longer than most civilizations, as I understand." Ferge glanced to one side, looking a bit furtive as he spoke in a low voice. "The feline's more than normal, but those like himself are a bit odd in the type of company they choose, if you catch my meaning. Now, the one they're talking to...he's different from anything I've ever met-and he's just a whelp by their reckoning." He nodded at the creature sagaciously. "Surprised they sent a kid out here, when they could have just called in someone like Myr. As I hear it that one's been around for a few millennia, and he strictly deals with us Beings. Nice chap, but cold as frostbitten blood if you tried to play him false. But if you want to know more," the squirrel said as he looked to Kaf again, "You'll have to talk to one."

******

A rather interesting trend, at that...though for a moment, the creature seemed to have lost all interest in the affair as his ears perked sharply at the sight of a pure-blooded Angel making his way inside. Those present were treated to a soft, sibilant hiss as snakelike eyes locked firmly on Kafzeil...rather likened to when a predator is surprised by the sudden presence of choice prey, come to think of it.

Of course, Réan's companion saw this as well...and his tufted ears flicked back completely; almost as if he expected trouble and was seriously debating on leaving the immediate vicinity. In fact, he did. The lynx looked at the group nervously before quietly slipping out of his chair and making for the back rooms as quickly as dignity would allow.

Now, if he'd stayed, he would have seen the creature regain his self-control...but no matter.

As if that interesting lapse had never occurred, the recruiter returned his attention back to those present...starting with Vladim. Heh, seemed he'd been able to pay attention to what was said, as those orbs glanced at the feline with vague interest. "Intellect is ephemeral in these type of instances-it matters not to me how quick of wit you are, but that you are...capable of the tasks we need assistance upon," Réan said, before looking at the others.

"And while I appreciate your interest in wanting to...how those outside of our borders say, 'break the ice', I find it easier to speak in this tongue." A slight smile, remarkably becoming of his strange features, graced his narrow muzzle. "You would be hard-pressed to find anyone that could understand our language, both verbal and non. Hnn?" His attention shifted to include Dhōngami for a long moment, an honest touch of perplexity in his expression. "A...party?" The word seemed to be alien to him, but the creature was quick to recover. "If you mean the discussion, then yes...take the seat my companion had, if you wish. Cori is so shy around strangers." Then the creature sighed softly, the tone nigh inaudible. "And I will freely admit I am more than unfamiliar with the customs of the outside world...but I blame my youth."

Réan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he steepled his fingers together. "That aside, Renald," the fellow said mildly as he eyed the armored canine, "You ask some reasonable questions that show true interest, and the sooner I can explain, the sooner I can go back to my business in Malse." He settled back more comfortably, looking about the group-and glancing at the ferret-Angel seated at the bar with an impression of insatiable hunger-before speaking in a manner that was clearly rehearsed.

"We are no single community, but more small pockets of what could be vaguely termed life-" It was odd how he put emphasis upon that, as if he felt he weren't truly alive- "I myself am from far inside, where interaction with the outside is nonexistent. But I digress. You have seen the swamp bordering Prinem? That is your destination. As to how far..." There was the slightest of frowns, "We term distance differently than those on the outside, due to how many of us travel. But you may travel far within, or you may not."

The creature shrugged here, as if the question of injury was unimportant. "I would say the danger is considerable, and possibly varied. If you are fortunate any troubles you encounter will involve you trying to protect your flesh from physical harm. An example of what you could find is here..." He reached into his shirt and pulled out a large, long-dead mosquito. The thing's body was nearly a foot long! Réan lightly tapped its head before continuing. "I'd wear plenty of what you call 'insect repellent' if you'll take my advice. But the conditions you'll be going through depend on where you go: there are those that declare war on us, even though we have done nothing to them and theirs, and I am aware of at least one ruin within our borders-a testament to a nation's folly at thinking they could claim our land for their own...."

The creature paused, closing his eyes for a little while. "And rewards are negotiable-if we can provide what you wish, we will certainly try to give it or its equivalent to you. Money, knowledge...almost anything. Some things might require intense discussion amongst ourselves, however, so you'd best have a second option. And hnn?" His head tilted a little at that. "Yes, that...while there are some of us that would be willing to help you-provide shelter, offer support depending on what you need...there are just as many whom would be happy to add to your troubles-some of you more than others." His gaze flicked over the crowd before him, lingering on the half-angel. "Any other questions? I will answer as I am able."

[VAE]

Vladim looked around, noticing others followed his example and practically stormed the table where the two presumably beings were sitting...
Great... the armored dog at least looks able and hopefully, not too smart to try to get all of whatewer will be given for himself... but the "23"
(that was the sample number of the experiments that resembled him, so he used it as a natural nickname) and the faceless guy look about as useful as flamethrower on a submarine, and the more diners the less cake...

Situation became a lot bleaker when he noticed a possible competitor ... a small ferret-like angel.
Angels were more than a worthy competitor to Vlad.. despite his talent and training, Angels had natural affinity to magic, so one would be able to outdo him in that respect with just a moderate amount of study, not even mentioning that it is way easier to fit it in your schedule when your av. life expectancy is one and half millenium.
The fact that the mentioned natural affinity was to light magic, to which he was somewhat "allergic", was just a cherry core on top of the whole crap-cake.
Ah *bleep*  ... the only thing missing is that one of these turns out to be an law enforcer wanting to get a few bucks during holidays...
He let know little of his mental state by his expression, however, an alert eye could notice his ears under the cape twitching somewhat.


Finally the wolf , began to talk of at least some details of the job to be done, pulling out an unusual insect specimen in the process.
He heard the somewhat deteriorating remark towards his presumed capabilities, and his eyes fixated upon the wolf, Vladim began thinking at a feverish pace.
Reward... they look like they *might* not only pay up, but give me enough cubi and triwing DNA samples to... or indeed the knowledge how to become one outright... if only they aren't bluffing.. i find their wares, and suddenly their feet will itch in the swamp's direction.. or sacrifice us as a neat gambit after we take out the opponent's figures...

When the wolf was done talking, Vladim begun.
"That might be, however, capability to overcome obstacles is determined by more than physical might," he shifted his eyes in direction of the doberman for a split-second " indeed, an apt mind finds the door instead of breaking down the wall" - .
"However, speaking of obstacles, who or what is in our path and what are they able to do?   I find it hard to believe that someone with enough might to raze cities  would go through this trouble to get around a few animals," he pointed towards the mosquito with a claw " however large and vicious."

[Cogidubnus]

"I do have a question." the wolf with two swords asked, his tone somewhat flat. He looked around for an open seat - finding none - and debated briefly about sitting on the floor before turning and dragging another chair over. Not being able to see the person you were talking to made negotiations hard.
"You want us to march into a hostile environment to fight enemies we are likely ill-suited to fight, without much information as to who is friend or foe, to overthrow someone who is -ostensibly- evil, probably just doesn't like you, and is apparently too powerful for you to overthrow yourselves, without causing 'chaos', as your note says, losing our own lives, or simply getting lost in the swamp and never being seen again."

"I think we might need a bit more than a dead mosquito." Cogidubnus said, giving a wry smile. "Maps might help. A better description of what, exactly, you want us to do might help. A better idea of what our foes are capable of might help."
He leaned forward, and his smile faded just a little bit. "Being a bit more honest with us might help. You reek of illusions." he tilted his head, and sniffed for emphasis. "If we're to bleed for you, honesty is the very least we can expect."

[Tipod]

Bartholomew gave the (apparently) canine recruiter an intense look as he listened as best he could. Gee, what was it that Uncle Artus told him about helping uncanny and dangerous-looking foreigners?

'So Uncle, say I ever get offered a job by some creep who claims it's for good--
'Don't do it.'
'But what if he's paying out bigtime?'
'They're untrustworthy individuals you've never seen or met before. Don't do it.'


That seemed like decent enough advice. After all, he had no idea just what kind of monetary reward they'd even be offering, and he'd been short-changed before on these deals.

But knowledge... hmmm.

The demon strode over, taking a seat at an adjacent table. "What kind of knowledge we talking about here, huh? Like 'turning lead into gold' knowledge, 'where all the dodo beings went' knowledge, or what?" He draped an arm over the back of his chair. "I mean, no offense, but did you just admit to living in a fuckin' swamp? What the hell kind of info could you even have that we want?"

[Kafzeil]

'Your strongest drink for starters."Kaf muttered the Derge, reaching for his coin purse. "Stout preferably, but really drop a bottle of vodka in front of me and drink it straight." He raised his warhammer."And a towel to wipe Charlene. "Oh by the Gods he named his weapon! And it had a female form engraved in it(What a pervert!), the scantily clad ferret's top half was covered in blood, a single drop dripping on the table, Kaf quickly shooting "I'll wipe that down too."

His ears caught something a hiss from behind. His eyes quickly glanced back, noticing a table of odd characters. An odd looking Creature, possibly a mythos, was staring at him, Kaf guess he might have been the source of the noise. And he was looking at Kaf like he aimed to reach down his throat and rip out his still beating heart. The purebreed Angel  narrowed his eyes,  as if shooting a mutual "I don't like you either buddy." towards him.

The others had some quirks as well, a wolf Being, probably atypical Adventurer, seemed like the closet thing to normal. Everyone else was either curious looking or gave Kaf an equally bad vibe as the wolf-mythos thing. A large figure concealing his face behind a metal mask. Strange, but there was weirder, like the clergy looking fella with the ominous evil/obnoxious spiked shoulder pads. Likely another harmless crazy. A Paladin like wearing...by the Wings of Azimuth was he wearing body parts?! Oh Gods, he felt like he was going to vomit.

The weird plant-like mythos seemed to have traces of Angel in him.He wasn't sure what to make of him, really, but maybe he could at least have a friendly chat with the guy. Maybe about screwed up Angel family politics.That's be a fun evening alright, telling him your family's bloody history Kaf! Surely he'd be delighted to know how many your great grandfather backstabbed, poisoned, and had murder in their sleep!

The ferret Angel turned back to Derge. "What the Hell is going on at that table?"He asked casually. "The circus recruiting or something?"