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Thorbyn grabbed the new arrival's shoulder, squeezing it hard and digging his fingers into his soft flesh at the pressure point on the shoulders "be quiet, do you want to wake the whole town?... we are a gathering of warriors, rogues and mages for a mission that will potentially save many lives, some here may be demon worshippers but that is not the reason for this gathering" Thorbyn hoped this got the point across "now you are part of this, wheather you like it or not"
 
Having kept his focus on the horned figure, the knight had not noticed the approaching frame of the cloaked elf. Right until the moment she set her fingers on his right pauldron. As if burned, the knight shrunk back from her touch by a step, before regaining his stead. She introduced herself, lifting an arm to expose a well-crafted trinket snaking around the exposed flesh.


Casting a weary glance at the horned one, the knight turned to face the elf, hesitating for a moment, before returning the courtesy, voice somewhat strained once more "My... greetings you have as well, milady Lothiriel." he bowed "Sir Tyrann Streiter one would call me..." before nodding his head to the side, indicating towards the fairy currently staring at the horned one "This is my companion, the fairy Navi, and yes, enter you may, of course I would not wish to bar the way inside for a fellow perpetrator of goodness, however, this being here..." just as he turned to once more to the horned one, the being chose just this moment of distraction to jump through the small space between the knight and the entrance to enter the house, Navi giving a small cry of shock.


Turning around, the knight followed as quickly as his again ceiling-restrained height would allow, coming to stand directly behind the horned one as he accused the group of being despicable villains.


"Fiend." the knight spoke, his voice ice-cold, him restraining the fury that raged within him "Dare not speak to a lawful group of goodness-followers as if they had committed a crime."


Grabbing the horned villain formerly restrained by Thorbyn by his shoulders before turning him around, he forced the demon to face him, or at least stare up to face him, considering the difference in height, all the while ignoring the burning pain that suffused his hands and snaked up his arms "I know you for what you are, demon. However, a true perpetrator of goodness listens to all, has mercy for all. A trial I will grant you. As such, a question I have: You appear to know the owner and are appalled by our presence, mistaking our intentions. Thus, what is your business here? Why did you enter this place? How dare you accusing us? At the door, all I heard was the knocking, the words drowned out by the ongoing conversation."


Casting his gaze on Thorbyn, the knight added "If demon-worshippers would occupy this group, I would know and I would not tolerate them. The means never justify the ends, please do not dare speak as if such measures could ever be needed, sir."
 
Orcs... Leonard has heard that word before in his life but couldn't remember where. That's right! He's heard it a bunch of times! "Mumma call Leonard orc too!" He declared proudly, not sure what the rather large man and the slightly smaller man were arguing about. "But whenever mumma say orc, she say not nice word before it! Then she cry!" Come to think of it, a lot of people didn;t say nice things about orcs. As a matter of fact, Leonard recalled on several ocassions that some people would kick him out because he was an orc. They told him to go back to them.


"Leonard don't wanna be orc! Leonard wanna be with human!" He started to cry, thinking all the negative thoughts. Then he realized that the two humans were talking about the little girl. Scratching his hairy chin, Leonard wondered about the girl. "Hello", he called to her. Sticking out his pinkie, he smiled and said "Leonard's name is Leonard!"
 
Thorbyn glanced at the half-orc Leonard


"you boy... you have the form of an orc, but the heart of a man, don't ponder about what others think of you, they don't know you so it's not their place to judge you" he put his big hand on Leonard's head "orcs are bad, bad people, they live in camps and kill innocent people, but as i said, you have the heart of a man, you are not like that, don't feel bad" he smiled to the young one..
 
( =.= Please Allow me to react when directly touching my character)


Being as now two men were upon him, Lite was quick to begin evading an maneuvering around the small house. As Lite was smaller than the knight, and did not wear such burdening armor as the knight did, Lite could swiftly evade his grasp. As for the other much more angrier man's grasp, Lite could simply weave out of the way, thanks to Lite's nimble feet and quick reactions. Now, keeping from everyone's grasp, as well keeping sure to stay out of anyone's grasp, although being completely surrounded, luckily only two attempted to nab Lite.


"Bah, do you think you hold command over me? Think again, if your feeble mind can!" Lite laughed to the first man who had so angrily talked about forcing Lite to join their cult. Lite's attention then switched over to the knight, who so eagerly attempted to fall his arms upon Lite.


"Goodness followers? What kind of damned cultist calls himself that? You guys are deep, ain't ya?" Lite let out a light laugh, before continuing on, "As I said before, I noticed a suspicious group of people wandering about town and ending up into Mumford's home, being the kind neighbor I am, I thought it'd be well of me to check up on him, simply to make sure no one had robbed him. What I'd done was all right and good, what you be doing, talking of sending a child into the fray of battle, well that just ain't right," Lite glanced at the "knight", "Just ain't goodness, as I'd judge."


Lite felt that was enough to put them in their place, but still he was outnumbered and only making things worse, so maybe he could come up with an agreement. So, Lite spoke once more, "Although, I am willing to go about my day as if I had seen nothing, but I cannot do such with my light empty pockets, I would need something shiny, something of high value," Lite grinned, guessing they knew what he meant, "I am a man that needs his due, give it here, and I'd be just about anything you pleased."


On one last note, Lite looked to them, more off topic, recalling that they had called him a demon and the talk to the orc telling that orcs are all bad, forced Lite to add a little side comment, "Don't be a racist." Lite tipped a finger to them then focused on the situation.
 
Watching this spectacle Catherines face grew steadily redder as the demon-hybrid jumped around the room. She let out something unintelligible before rising to her feet.


"You want to dance Hellspawn?" she spat at the half-demon, "I've lost friends, and comrades fighting back creatures like you who tried to destroy the works of man, and you have the gall to act as if those sacrifices never happened?" She stepped onto the small table walking forwards and disturbing dishes on her way towards the demon.


"Then how about I show you how a true Soldier and Warrior of the Great Plains fights." she drew her sword with a nasty *shfwick* and began advancing on him blade first.
 
Gliba had been pointedly ignoring the tall folk, what with all there yelling and accusing, you never did see a gnome threaten anyone they way these people did, but despite his stern adherence to the practices of Ignorance Gliba could not help but hear an opportunity when it was offered. The small Gnome looked up from his now empty bowl of stew at the very acrobatic and lithe person who had just maneuvered himself away from the heavily laden knight and another tall person whom he did not know. Money was a big thing in the upper lands and Gliba had found out that precious gems and gold could also be used as a sort of currency here, gnomes generally used a bartering system for trading and it prevented many feuds among Gliba's people.





"I would buy your services young man!!" Gliba smiled at the man referred to as a demon, "I have two very large diamonds that say you will serve me for the remainder of our journey, I will even pay for whatever lodging and rations you may need for the journey as a bonus." Gliba then rose from his seat and removed his burgeoning backpack and proffered a very large diamond "One after you sign a contract that will bind you to my service and another after the completion of our quest." Gliba went on as he returned the diamond and replaced it with a sheaf of parchment and a self inking quill, a deal was a deal binding in every way especially if it was gnome making the deal. "You sign here, here and here oh and you may take a share of my own treasure at the end." Gliba pointed at several blank spots on the parchment and smiled innocently. "I must note that the contract is magically binding and requires a sample of you blood here" He finished gesturing to the bottom right corner of the parchment. Gliba then moved to a nearby desk and cleared it of its contents in anticipation of the youngling's reaction.


"Please calm down now, I wish to make a deal with the devil!!" He said a little bit too enthusiastically.
 
"I see. A true villain you are then." Tyrann rendered his verdict with a calm voice and, for the first time since entering the region, slowly moved his hand to set itself on the grip of the heavy goodness-warhammer on his back "I challenge you, fiend, both of us to walk outside and conduct the speech of weapons. Accept the demand or lay down and surrender in peace-"


Upon hearing the gnomes words, the knight could barely trust his ears, though he kept his gaze on the fiend, he questioned the tinker "How can you do this? This is a being of evil, one that perpetrates evil right before our eyes without wish for redemption!"
 
Leonard had no idea what the bigger man was saying. Automatically, he assumed it was stupid. Of course, Leonard was also unable to ask a person to clarif or explain things to him. Trying to contemplate, Leonard took it as a joke, and not to make the big man feel bad, he laughed about it. "Ahaha! Leonard laugh!" He was never a good lyer though.
 
Oh, and now the female raises a blade to him, quite the sight, it was few a time that anyone would see a women raise a blade. Even more interesting, but still further proving them, the many, to be bad, and Lite, the few, to be the good. Then again, the racist words are yelled upon Lite as if he were literally dirt between their toe nails. She seemed content on fighting right there in the house, was she nuts? As well she judged Lite as if he were truly some bastard trying to rape everyone in the room. Being unarmed and outnumbered, fighting would not be in Lite's favor, so avoidance of such would be the best option.


To do so, Lite quickly ducked down went around and right over a large table, his horns scraping against a hanging lamp over head. Now with a item between them, Lite could continue speaking without so much threat. "Aye, I'm sure there are many that have died do to the acts of my kin, but that does not give reason enough to shun me with such hate, as I had arrived here simply to help a neighbor. If any were evil, and if evil was truly a being, It'd definitely not be me. Anyhow you speak as if man have rightful place over every inch of land, that if you are not of mankind you must die or bow, so much for people of goodness, learn to think before acting. Aye, I could dash out the window, gather the towns folk, create mob, and run you cultist out of this town. There, we would be on a bit of an equal plane, for I am sure none would want such roughhousing folk hanging bout here." Lite explained, his soft gaze wandered about Catherine's body, covered in armor she looked not to have the most attractive form, he wondered what was hiding and begging for freedom under there.


To the knight once more, "I don't fight idiots; only idiots fight idiots, I ain't a idiot." Lite pointed to the orc jokingly, "Good man, least somone here got a sense of up and down."


As finally, one of them spoke up to make a deal with Lite, but not the most interesting, although two diamonds were always interesting. But a man with money was a man that Lite would listen to. "There's a man with a brain, may not work well, but least he has one." Lite nodded, slowwly heading over to the old man. Lite continued to keep his eyes on everyone else, being not to let any of them sneak up upon him. He quickly spared a few glances at the contract, being sure to read it over once or twice.


"That's a bit much for my taste, wee'man, how bout we make a man's deal," Lite grinned to the gnome, "You don't pay me until we get whatever this job you need done is done, simple as that, and we can assist my pay after words. Simple, ah, but if I wish to leave, I may, though I'll leave with no pay, which I can't be doing now." Lite turned to the gnome, putting his guard down, and speaking again, "I can assure you, I ain't leaving less you require me to kill a dragon, I can do just about anything you want, cook, clean, fight, long as I keep my body as is, I keep my mind as is. You don't ration me, I can feed myself, you don't pay for bunking, I can tend myself, and I get paid rightfully by the end, then the deals done. That's the agreement I'm giving, take it or leave it," Lite let out his hand, to seal the oath, "You have my word, be it worth little to you, it's worth much more to me. Meaning I won't go back on it, less I feel great enough reason to, and I don't think much would beat reasoning when diamonds are involved."
 
Gliba looked to the battle ready Knight and frowned "My people live for a very long time Knight, my own 140 years of existence pale to the long history of my people, but in the last century we have been forced to live out the rest our lives beneath your feet in dirt hovels, we once had a great nation but now all we have are groups of gnomes huddled together in fear of you!!!" Gliba could barely contained himself but restrained his voice and continued on


"You do not even have the patience to wait for a proper answer from him, now quiet down and reserve your judgement until such a time as he has proven himself worthy or unworthy of your mercy." Gliba finished, took a breath and motioned the hybrid towards the parchment "Quickly boy or face your fate at his hand instead of mine" Gliba said to his potential employee


Gliba had finished his small yet very calm tirade and listened to the counter offer. This surprised the small Gnome to no end, "You boy have piqued my interest and I accept your offer of service." The deal was mutually favourable and gave each of them what they needed, Gliba offered his hand to shake on the deal as was right
 
Teddy sat in his chair, despite the chaos going in the other room and nearly drifted to sleep there as it was. His soft, curled locks ruffled with each shift he made sitting in the cozy furniture, tapping his furry toes against the cushioned carpet. He was far too tired to worry about big folk and the fact his house was nearly a mess, the poor thing was too stressed to begin with.






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Orydd had snuck from the room long ago to check on her soon-to-be companion, slithering into the small living room to find the little creature almost half asleep with all the ruckus going on. She could only smile, glancing her brightly colored eyes to the different photos and trinkets lining the walls, followed by millions of old books and journals. What a simple man he was, who spent most of his life sitting in a hole reading his life away. The elven woman let out a dull sigh and turned, retreating back to the room where she noticed something very odd start to arise. A fight, among her acquaintances and another face that happened to show. "Oi!" she shouted, shoving her fingers into her mouth to let out an ear-ringing whistle. "Bloody hell, lower your weapons, everyone." she firmly said, "Have you no respect? ANY of you?"


She craned her lucid body and swiped the bow off her back, readying an arrow just for safety measures. "Here we are about to go on a journey with each and every one of you, with a man who hasn't even held a sword in his life. But yet, your respect in his very own home is absent." she wrinkled her nose under her veil, the voice of Princess of Gamberyl, and Queen of Themron returning to her lips. "If it hasn't hit you yet, the very sake of Algorn is rested in our hands."
 
Lothiriel strolled into the house, oddly calm as the calamity unfolded before her. She watched the drawing of weapons, the pointless dialogue and chattering. She cast her shadowed eyes towards the girl and ambled towards her. "May I?" She inquired softly and took her bow without an answer. Lifting it as if she had been born with it as a part of her body, something that she used just as much as any hand or foot and notched an arrow, drew the string back and shutting one eye for a better aim, quickly released a single arrow, pinning the fabric of Lite's shirt to the wall behind him. Notching another as if time itself had stopped for her, she fired more. Everyone with a drawn weapon was pinned to something. Placing the bow back into the kid's hands, she signed and raised one hand to silence everyone.


"Let us not be prejudice towards another. Has this man commited a treason? No. Has he murdered any of us? No. Who are we to say he is the one lacking goodness. We are all the same. We all have flesh, and blood filtering trough our veins. Shall we call a peace bound? Let this man explain to us about his horns and why he is here. No bloodshed." Her voice was firm, and the leadership assets of the elven warrior were revealing itself to the other occupants of the house.
 
Awakened once again by an ear splitting whistle, Baznif was quickly jerked back from the edge of sleep. He looked up with an annoyed expression of his face, and did a double take as he noticed that the number of people in the small room had once again increased, surely straining the room to capacity. A look of alarm spread across his face as he noticed the number of naked weapons being brandished about by the damned youngsters. He shook his head at the folly of younguns, no experience, so quick to quarrel over the smallest thing.


He surveyed the scene; it looked as though another hobbit had came in, along with another elf, and one of the various demonic races. Baznif payed little mind to such things, he had found that the machinations of men were easily an equal for any mischief a demon might cause, and that they were just as open to negotiation as any other race, if you held a position of power over them. On the other side of the room, small as it was, Tinpot, the tall hobbit, and the loud mouthed lout from earlier were squaring off. He sighed, shaking his head in despair as he clambered to his feet. He paused to take a spoonful of soup, grimacing as he found it had turned cold since he had nodded off. Such was life.


He was, however, surprised as the newest arrival went so far as to fire a good dozen arrows at the other occupants, though her intent was either nonlethal, or her aim exceedingly poor. He severely doubted being fired upon would do anything to calm the tempers being exhibited. He shook his head again, he was of half a mind to take several sets of parents to task for allowing their offspring out of the house without beating some common sense into them. He mentally prepared a hold person spell anyways, along with a mass paralysis one, Those two spells were always easy to remember, as casting them had not a few similarities with the fireball spell.


He loudly banged his staff against the ground, the magically hardened wood issuing a resounded knock as it dented the softer wood of the floor. "What's all this then?" He demanded angrily of no one in particular. "Waving weapons around and making more noise than a troll marching band, shooting arrows inside a hobbit hole? bah!" He threw up one in an exasperated manner, the other having a firm hold of his staff. "I'd turn you lot into toads, but I expect you'd still keep us up all night with your croaking!" He pounded the floor once more with his staff.


"I may not know what's going on, or who you are, or where my dragon is, or where I am, but I do know one thing!" He paused, one arm raised and finger upthrust to illustrate his point. "And that's...that's..." He paused, a confused look coming over his face. "Hold on, I have it...somewhere..." Baznif stared at his feet, at a loss for several seconds. His face brightened as it came to him, divinely inspired. "Ah, I do know that we must all be here for a reason, look around you, have you ever seen such a mismatched bunch of misfits? Clearly we have assembled here to triumph against insurmountable odds!" He nodded his head in conviction could there be any other explanation for the fates assembling them? He thought not. "So the next person to jeopardize the mission," He cast a glare at the elven warrior who had so recently employed the bow, "Gets to deal with an angry wizard with an active imagination."
 
Taking his hand off the still-unclasped warhammer on his back, Tyrann turned to lady Orydd "Milady, respect and peace we held, as far as I was able to spot, at least, up until the moment this fiend here..." he gestured with his right at the horned one, while his left was meanwhile cradling his fairy, whose earlier chipper attitude had turned to fear when lady Catherine drew her weapon.


Then, the arrows flew, the archer, lady Lothiriel, apparently intent on restraining them by force. Instinctively, Tyrann pushed his armored front in defence before his fairy, while a projectile pinned his cloak to the ground. While he could have torn his cloak in order to free himself, that would deny Navi a warm place while travelling at night, an abominable thought.


As such, the knight redirected his words now at lady Lothiriel, his words calm and collected, the tense situation having momentarily pushed aside his terror before the female gender "Milady Lothiriel and milady Orydd, rest assured, prejuidice was not what had me contemplate drawing my weapon. This-" he nodded at the now-pinned horned villain "- is a demon, I know it, I feel it, but even so, I did not even set a hand on my hammer, gave him a chance to explain himself, which he instead used to intrude into the homestead."


Slowly, he repositioned himself to a more upright position, which was hard, considering that the ceiling stayed the courteous knight's unbreakable barrier "Has he committed treason? Yes, for he threatened to do so if we gave him no monetary compensation in exchange for supposed silence. Has he murdered one of us? No, but one needs not be a murderer to be evil and plan the downfall of others. I say he lacks goodness, for he has shown nothing else but greed and spite. Only after this observation of his deeds and personality did I deem him evil, otherwise never would I have wasted a thought on drawing my weapon."


With Navi climbing back onto his shoulder, the knight sat back down and began to carefully pull out the arrow pinning his cloak to the ground "But very well, if he wishes to parley, then the chance he shall have to do so." interrupting his work to cast his gaze on the soldier Catherine, he added "Milady Catherine, by goodness and peace, I must ask that you stand down."


Once again, the situation took something of another turn, not by arrows this time, but the awakening and lecturing figure of the wizard. Though he appeared to be contemplating it, he did not cast a spell, fortunate. Nonetheless, Tyrann almost shrank back every time the wizard's staff dented the wood. Taking a deep breath, pulling out the arrow and finally freeing himself without damaging his cloak, the knight chose to wait for the moment, having already said all that needed to be said.
 
Teddy shifted his weight once more, the whistle literally kicking him from his deep slumber. They were still here? "Oh by the Gods of Algorn.." he groaned, rubbing his dim eyes to rid of the sleepiness that still lingered. Furry toes placed back onto the cushioned floor fully as the Hobbit stood, wobbling back to the other room to check how everything was. His peepers squinted when peeking in, trying to make knowledge of the new faces that arrived. "Ah!" he jumped, the noises of the arrows sinking into his valuable wood floors making him cringe. "No no no!" he shouted, hobbling in and waving his nub of arms with much distress. "That is quite valuable I have you know!"




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Orydd let out jittered breaths, holding that bow of hers ready against the evil that lay in front of her. "Oh?" another face had appeared, a sister with the same blood, swaggering in and touching her bow to settle matters for herself. Orydd could only bite her lip harshly under that fur veil. How dare she touch her bow that her father passed down with his very noble hands like that.. It was carved with his love and loyalty, and stained with his blood from the wrath of her husband. Orydd could only clasp her brilliant eyes shut, curling her thin fingers into fists. No one knew who she really was, and that was all that mattered. All these people in the room would show more hatred for her if she revealed herself, more hatred than they had for the man with demon blood in his veins. She could never say.


Inhaling sharply, she stepped aside and flinched lightly when each arrow was shot to pin her companions down. It grew silent before Lothiriel spoke once more, literally ripping the words from her very own mind. Orydd could only nod in agreement. "If the man deem good otherwise, it is fine." she stated. "He may hath a rough exterior but you not know the goodness of what he can do or will be." she slid her bow back onto her back, standing to her full height. "We all will travel many moons for this quest, together, so we need to do whatever we will to get along."


She turned her attention to the Hobbit, who was now awake and glanced to the others. "Greetings again, Sir Mumford." she greeted, completelt ignoring his tantrum.


( I'll add the colors once I get home, I'm currently in class. )
 
Catherine yanked hard on the arrows, they came loose with the material and clattered to the floor, she looked at the group again, and after a minute of what seemed to be a considerable debate going on behind her glaring eyes she sheathed the weapon, with rather more force than was necessary and demounted the table.


"Fine." she stated, tension still creeping into her voice.


"Do what you must, I'll travel with whatever you like." she took a seat again in an unoccupied chair.


"But know this, should certain members of the party make a wrong move I will not hesitate in acting." She looked from figure to figure, finally resting her eyes on the wizard thumping away with his staff.


"You needn't worry about me, I won't cause trouble, I'll merely resolve it in my own way if it ever comes to that."


She adjusted her baldric before unbuckling a few sections of leather armour on her torso, the red slowly fading from her face as she fell silent.
 
Rismond and Mirana shakes their heads in disgust of the two who were raring to go. "Stop it! We shouldn't be fighting with one another," Mirana screamed, unable to sit and watch. Rismond nodded his head in agreement, and said, "Honestly. a man drawing a sword to an ally is no braver than a man drawing a sword to a passive animal. In light, it would be pointless for any of us to be fighting. I am not insinuating that I would defeat all of you in single combat. The chances of that highly uncertain to me. Also, I am certain that each of you are skilled," Rismond said with great disgust in his voice. Watching people going at it was interesting if it were sport. However, this would have been unnecessary bloodshed.
 
Lothiriel grew silent, completely oblivious to the conversation that went on around her. Much of it didn't entail her opinion, nor was it very exemplary to an extent. Growing nonchalant, the female shrunk back to the shadows, keeping to the wall. Suddenly and rather spontaneously, her skin begun to prickle and sting with unpleasantness and she begun to grow dizzy. "Mm..." the elven breathed softly, her brows furrowing in concealment. Was this just a simple figment of her imagination or was she honestly growing heavily ill within seconds? Would it pass? Lothiriel, now teetering, grabbed ahold of a table and looked down at it, her loose raven curls almost brushing against the wooden surface. The female blinked a few times, each time her eyes flickering a different tone, shade, or color. Her hearing was no longer acute, most noise drown by an immensly irritating buzz in the back of her mind. Her body hitched slightly but she quickly stood straight, trying to act as if nothing was going on. She tried to push herself to walk to the other room to prove so, but her feet and legs wouldn't work, hindered by the buzzing and pricks of pain. Lothiriel's eyes begun to illuminate the small space around her, since she had resided in the darkest part of the room. She let out a soft gasp and fell back against the wall, unsure of what to make of anything.


"What... what is going on?" she whispered, her eyes quickly opening and then closing. "I am the ohtar... I can't..." she was starting to switch between tongues as her mind slipped in and out. She wanted to pass out. Curl up, and fall asleep for years. Then a soft voice entered her mind. The bottle. Drink the bottle in times of need. The plague is to come back to you at some point in time. Drink up, child. Of course! She had felt like this before. Long ago. Vibrating slightly, the elf reached a hand into her pocket and slyly pulled out a something that was slim-green and tipped back her head, placing the rim of the tiny, now opened bottle to her lips. She allowed the old liquid to dribble into her mouth and down her throat. It was such a rancid taste but she didn't seem to flinch or hesitate to drink the remainings at the bottom of the bottle she had held onto for years. Standing slowly, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her off behaviour. Already, the elven warrior was feeling better and gaining back the color pigments in her her.
 
Out of the corner of his eye, Baznif caught sight of the female elf, the second one, acting strangely. Anticipating yet another outbreak of violence, Baznif's brows furrowed as she collapsed against the wall. Her strange behavior ended moments later after she slipped a bottle from her pocket and sipped. Baznif nodded in sudden understanding. Those accustomed to the drink, the nectar of the god's known as alcohol were prone to adverse behavior and ill health, convulsions, shakes, and sickness similar to what he had just witnessed. Baznif attempted to catch Lorithiel's eye, offering her a sly wink as he did so, surreptitiously patting his own flask prominently displayed on his belt. It was strange, Baznif had known few drinkers as far advanced along the path of alcohol as she to let the symptoms become so pronounced while they had alcohol. Perhaps she had simply been attempting to ration her supply? Baznif nodded in conviction, that was surely the case. He made a mental note to share some of his private supply with her if the need arose. While she was still a mere elf, and he, a wizard, Baznif well understood camaraderie among fellow drinkers.


He shifted his attention back to the former combatants, still prepared to meet any further outbreak of violence with a proper spell.
 
And the deal was struck, diamonds for common service for a temporary time. No bindings and no strings, no lies, no false. It was simple as said, just as Lite had preferred it, he was tied down by no limits, especially not by knights claiming goodness while swinging about their swords like there was no such thing as tomorrow. Whatever job they had seen a need to get done, it was probably going to go unsolved, with such rabble and uncivilized folk, it seemed no hope, no god, not smile of the lady luck laid upon any of their backs. What was Lite getting into? Bah, it doesn't matter, along as the pay is good, their are women to be adored, and a name to be taken then Lite was on board, at least until he felt a proper time to leave. Which would seem like now, being as more sand more people crowded into the room and even more aggressively than before. Seemed these seemed to like contradict themselves and yell at each other, Lite wondered if he was simply joining a hate group. So far, just seemed to be a group of racist complaining about the fact that Lite was a demon, and assuming that be the only reason for them to be allowed to lynch him. But before to much happened, Lite grasped the little gnome's small hand and gave him a firm shake.


"Alright then, my name is Lite Rige, L-I-T-E, some call me the King of the Jacks, just cause I've got skill in most, if not all, trades. You got yourself a worker, big man." Now that the deal was settled, Lite mainly felt like leaving the crowded place and meeting up with them later on, although he could always stick around to try for what exactly they were doing, but he preferred the former rather than the latter. If he was going to continue to be ridiculed for simply being what he was, he would rather it be on his own terms, where either no one was armed or he was properly armed as well. But out of anything, Lite wanted to be out side this damned hovel, his neck hurt, it smelled like dirt, and it was overly crowded with to many people who sought violence above negotiation. They really considered Lite to be the ruffian, the "evil" bringer, when he had yet to do anything wrong, sides assume the worse, which he did rightly so, being as he has yet to be proved wrong. Elves and wizards began yelling and shouting, as if casting spells and commands, some arrows were shot, one skimmed against Lite's clothes but just ripped a piece off. Again with the yelling and the contradicting words, but it seemed that they were at least deciding to calm, stead of attack. They seemed preoccupied with each other enough for Lite to begin skulking towards the exit, where he could get away from the heat from the many bodies.


Most of them seemed a quite bit more occupied with the crazed elf than Lite, so he could luckily get past with a bit more ease. Especially to escape the damned yelling.
 
Lothiriel's shadowed face turned towards Baznif, inarticulated. She struggled to grasp for words to speak but came up with nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothingness. She was slowly gathering her thoughts but her words were, despite stuck in her throat, and her wanting to speak; lost in a deep abyss of nothingness. Something quite common with the elf. Her ghost of a smile was indirect but the bright illumination of azure-blue shot from under her cloak's hood was directed at Baznif, amusement fluttering inside her as she followed his patting hand to the flask. The likelihood of another understanding her off spasms and fallen illness was rare. It was marvellous to know another afflicted. Her marvel was quickly swept aside, and out of her thoughts due to her guard. Moving towards the middle of the room, her face utterly hidden for some unknown reason (and inquiriable due to having it on for so long without revealing her face), cleared her throat before that soothingly honey-sweet voice was emitted. "This quest I hear of you speak from time to time... what is it? I'm enthralled..." she said. Her wording was rather interesting to listen upon, and her body language filled with elegence and slight confidence. It wasn't enigmatic to decipher that she was brought up a noble.


Lothiriel lifted her pallid hand to her cheek, two slender fingers resting against the doll-like lower half of her face as she questioningly tilted her head to the side, patiently awaiting a reply to her inquiry, and if anyone were to oppose to answer her question, she would be perplexedly vile and spiteful. Being ignored was not something Lothiriel was use to, and it was not proper to ignore a being anyway. That was what her handmaid told her at the age of five, when she grew enraged by her lordly father who had been too busy to talk with. She had ignored him for three days straight, and slightly worried the man. Half a smirk etched across her rosey lips before instantly vanishing.
 
Watching silently how the demon slowly left sir Mumford's homestead, apparently thinking himself stealthy. He could not compare to the true darkness beyond and its spawns, but the knight supposed that for the less experienced regarding the Taint, the demon would be successful.


It was Navi, who had lost interest in the demon when the arrows had begun to fly, that turned him from the sight, pointing into a portion of the house that was kept from the lively light, just in time for the knight to decipher the figure of lady... Lothiriel pushing herself off the shadowed wall, stowing away a small bottle, her eyes appearing to have a slight, yet illuminating glow. She looked around, face pale, as if she had been caught off-guard by something, before she regained her composure and moved confidently back into the livelihood of the room.


Resolving to ask her about the occurrence later, as her demeanor betrayed her unwillingness to speak about it to what had to be a group of strangers to her, the knight conceded with her words as he turned to face lady Orydd, who appeared to be the most knowledgeable about the quest "I agree with milady Lothiriel, milady Orydd, if you would mayhaps be so kind to share your wisdom as to the further details of our goodness-blessed quest?"
 
And the deal was struck between Gliba and his new employee, the little gnome envisioned a very profitable future for the two of them. They shook hands and made their pact irrespective of anyone else' opinions, a Gnome was only thrall unto himself or to those he wished to provide a service as was their nature. Once Gnomes had wandered the upper lands freely and without fear for their skills were once widely known and very much in demand, but as their business empire grew and they accrued riches untold but other folk coveted their riches and their creations and drove Gliba's Gnome ancestors into their current subterranean abodes beneath thick forests guarded by ancient magicks.


Gliba jumped in surprise as an arrow whizzed by his head pinning his backpack to the wall, the gnome's eyes widened and he paused momentarily before he turned to his pack and worried over it's contents "I find it rich when you all talk about damaging property and yet find no problem in doing the same thing." He mumbled sourly to himself as he rummaged through his pack ensuring that none of his inventions were damaged.


As the small gnome worried over his possessions he heard the thump of a staff and the old wizard's words, his ears noticeably pricked up as he had confirmed that everything was in relative working order. Gliba snorted a little humorously at the angry wizard and could not help but giggle a little, the whole situation stunk of some bad divine joke and they were all the butt of it. Gliba replaced his pack and pulled the arrow from the wall examining the deep gash in the wood "I can't fix that sorry Master Hobbit." He mused as he used his small index finger to pick all the dust out
 
"Rismond, you should do something about this," Mirana said gripping his sleeves. "I assume this is beyond me in the words department," he replied in a sad tone. He wanted to stop all of this without the use of magic. Even one spell would exacerbate the situation. And so, all he was able to do was watch this go on with a dull expression. This was like a bad joke and it was getting worse.
 
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