Tales of Ikhorus

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A grin appears across the man's face after what the sailor said. "And I bet you'd like to know which one you are, right?" He raised his mug and smiled playfully. "It is certainly a huge coincidence, is it not? I am happy I decided to stop by here this time around, otherwise we'd miss each other completely. What is this gift? If you would excuse my excitement."


Murk, while scanning your surroundings for potential eavesdroppers, you find a human woman that is too interested in your conversation. She appears to be in her early twenties and has very short jet-black hair, is currently wearing simple gray and brown travel clothes with no adornments other than a single teardrop earring. Also, a scar can be seen just behind her left ear and going downwards, towards her neck.

After noticing that, you casually get up from the table while mumbling something about needing another drink. Once you were seated at the bar, you glanced to the woman you caught watching the conversation earlier, with as much discretion as you could muster. The woman in question was still looking towards the table where most of your group is currently seated, except that now, every so often, her eyes drifted your way as if to make sure you haven't moved yet again.
 
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Taking another sip, Barost returned the grin. "Unfortunately, I had not expected to see ya, so it's up in my room. If ya'd like, we could head up and ya can have it." He gestured towards the rooms, "I think you'll like it, from what I know of ya. Shall we?"
 
Murk is made only the slightest bit uncomfortable by the deal, of which he had no prior knowledge. He was no stranger to illegal activities, depending on who was paying for the services of his mercenary company. That's if this deal even would be considered outside the law. But as usual, his mind starts to wander and he scans the room for anything out of the ordinary. That's when he catches the eye of a human woman who seems particular interested in what is taking place at their table.

The tabaxi grunts and stands and stretches, bones audibly cracking in his spine as he does so. While waiting for a drink at the bar, he keeps his eye on the woman as surreptitiously as he can manage, though he had more skill for espionage in the outdoors. But he waits just long enough to see if she's armed, and to make sure she's still watching the table. Once sure, Murk turns toward Mel and blocks his mouth from the woman's view with his drink.

"We're bein' watched. Human girl, short black hair, scar. If she leaves I'm gonna follow her."
 
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Kaesalor leans in as he starts speaking. "Even I haven't seen many of my kind as of late. Those of us who can, still keep to the wilderness. I have wondered on countless occasions if they are brave or foolish." The deep bass of his low voice rumbles across the room, but it is inaudible to anyone too far away.

The firbolg then prepares to stand up from the table, to follow Barrost to his room and make sure nothing goes awry.
 
The man finished over his ale and ran a hand through his ginger hair. "Well, if that's where it is." He stretched in his chair a bit, while Snow could hear a few rhythmic taps of his food on the wooden floorboards. Then, he gets up and looks to the seated half elf, that is as tall as he is while standing. "After you."

Murk, you see the woman shift a bit in her seat after the halfling moved from where he was seated. Her eyes were still wandering about the place, but resting for longer periods of time on the table she seemed so interested in.


Barost, you get up from your seat and lead those who wish to follow upstairs, to the room you shared with Garret. Inside, it's easy enough to retrieve the box you acquired in Dewfall from its hiding spot, if that's what you wish to do.
 
Leading the small group into the room, Barost went for the box, retrieving it and offering it to the halfling, "Far as I know, everythin' that should be there is still there. Honestly kinda forgot we had it with us a few times -- oh right, gimme a minute," setting the box down on a bed, Barost dug in his pack, retrieving a letter. "Proof of who we represent, and what's 'spose to be in there. If I recall, some sort of payment was gonna be figured out upon delivery." The sorcerer leaned against the wall, "We got it here on time, in one piece, on behalf of th' one who couldn't make it."

He smiled, his eyes still looking tired from his poor sleep earlier in the day, "We plan t'head out for a few days, after a bounty. I'm wonderin' if when we come back, is there gonna' be a seat at th' table cuz we're labeled as easy marks... or because we're interestin' enough?" Lowering his voice he continued, "An' I'm wonderin' how th' table feels about ... certain stone sculptures these days."
 
Without a word, Kaesalor stands up, ready to follow Barost upstairs. Although he is visibly uncomfortable about the whole situation, he isn't about to let his friends down.
 
Common Room:
Murk and Mellis; After the small group vanished upstairs, the woman opens up a small notebook of sorts and starts to scrawl something along its pages with a piece of charcoal. During this time, she doesn't partake on the extra-vigilant behavior you have noticed before, as her attention is focused entirely on the small journal.

Upstairs:
The halfling man holds the box while pocketing the letter sent by Ras, he quickly scanned over the envelope before shoving it inside one of the pockets beneath his black cloak. "Right, right. Well, Let's make sure everything is in here first."

His fingers trail the bottom of the box until they find a small indent in the wood, a small click could be heard and then a blue arcane rune started glowing across the cover of the box. Without saying a word, the man pulls his dagger a few inches out of its sheath and slides his finger across the blade, letting a drop of blood fall atop the glowing symbol. A louder click this time and the mysterious man grinned as the box opened up, a few inches below what you assumed to be the lid. "It looks like they kept their side of the bargain. Although middle men were not part of the bargain." He shrugged, and held his finger in place, as not to bleed all over the room. "Eh, you lot can keep the payment for all I care."

He placed the box over a nearby surface while he rummaged around his pockets. "I'm not sure about that one, kid. If you are really just middle men, perhaps you could do more around this city than you thought. Our.. line of work is always in need of able hands on our side." He hands over a bag of coin and his expression darkens when the statues are mentioned. "We definitely don't plan on becoming one, that's for sure." His eyes move carefully between the two travelers in the room, not keen to press on that subject.
 
Watching the display with interest, the sailor moved to dig through his things again, retrieving his healer's kit and offering a small cut of bandage for the halfling to use. "Nah, from what I understand, if he could've made this trip, he would've, just things didn't line up well." Taking the coin he hefted it before setting it aside.

At the mention of work, Barost smiled, "Maybe we'll see 'bout that, assuming we survive the trip we plan to take." His expression faded at the reply, shaking his head, "I sure as hell don't want to either but ... at th' very least, wonderin' if your group had any ... ideas on how to undo some." He gestured towards the box, "I've seen some snazzy things in my time, but not anythin' near that. 'Sides, always good t'have friends in unfamiliar harbors."

Shrugging, he continued, "Anyways, is that all ya were after? Up to you if ya wanna linger a little bit, maybe dip out a different way, Iunno how you lot handle things in th' city."
 
Lost to the rhythms of his own songs Garrett was giving the show of his life, then he saw her. A stunning woman with raven hair, watching her compatriots leave...
well that simply won't do, a suspicious artistic woman keeping tabs on my friends. How to be disruptive... Garrett you genius.
In that moment he stopped playing cold, a murder went through the room, why had he stopped?
"Friends forgive the abrupt change of tone, but I have been struck dead, by beauty. You see there is a woman here tonight that I must confess as my muse."
Extending his hand toward her, all heads turned to the woman.

"By the grace of the gods, I pray that my eyes do not deceive me. For you are Calliope, and you are the voice that whispers upon winds. Singing sweetly to lovers on spring days, telling tales of passions yet to be had. Please my lady... Join me here on the stage, so all may bask in your presence."
Sensing her obvious hesitation, Garret then incited the crowd to encourage her as well. If there was one thing he could to it was stir people up.
 
Common Room:
When the music stop, it took some time before the woman realized what was happening. Her gaze lifted from the notebook's pages and drifted through the surrounding crowd. She turned around a few times, feeling most of the tavern's eyes staring right at her, watching her every move.

With a smile, she tucks the notebook and charcoal back inside her coat and wanders to the raised stage at the other end of the tavern. "If you insist." Her voice was just loud enough to be carried through the empty tavern. At the bar, Garret could see a heavily-intoxicated Jackie entertained by the whole situation caused by the traveling bard that borrowed the stage for the night. Meanwhile, she walks across the stage, her charcoal-covered fingers trailing the half elf's arm before she turned to the crowd and winked to a dragonborn woman that sat in one of the tables. She faced Garret, still smiling. "What do you have for me, then?"

Murk, from the bar, you are still keeping tabs on the woman's every movement. While she was walking through the tavern, you noticed how her gaze kept darting back to the staircase that led to the higher floors.


Upstairs:
The halfling started to stop the bleeding with the offered bandage. "Maybe won't survive the trip, huh? Sounds like you lot like to live on the edge, huh?" He finishes his passable first-aid and admires his work. "If you want to get your hands dirty sometime, ask Jackie about me, he'll tell you enough." He frowns when the sailor brought the statues up once more. "'My group'," he says with air quotes, "knows nothing of the sort. And if we did, would we go around telling strangers? We don't dare defy the King in all kinds of ways imaginable. We leave that for the fools." The red-haired man closes the box and holds it under his arm. "Yes, this is all I needed. Nice doing business with you." He stops at the door and, without ever turning his back to you, motions for you two to leave first.
 
For the duration of the exchange, Kaesalor was standing just next the door, watching the halfling carefully with arms crossed across his chest.

"I think even if we managed to free our person in question, they'd just come back for him and for us as well. As for us, I'd rather die fighting out in the wilds than be turned into a statue."

However, the firbolg is uncomfartable with the idea of turning his back to this person, and to leave him alone in the room as well. So he refuses to budge from his position by the door unless the halfling leaves first.
 
Helping her to the nearby stool as a gentleman would, he sat her there. Leaving his lute where it lay on the stage, he began is clear cadence's and tones, never letting go of her hands.

"As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung."

And it this moment, with his hand against her cheek he leans in for a kiss...
 
Murk covers his face with his hand and runs his temples as Garrett calls the woman on stage, having obviously caught on that she was watching the group.

"Are you kidding me?" he grows at Mel. But as the woman comes onto the stage, Murk can't help but grin as he begins to sing to her.
 
Chuckling, "I don't think I'd say I like to, but I tend t'end up there all th' same." Watching the halfling prepare himself to leave, the sailor shook his head at the direction to leave first. "Sorry, but for all th' 'friends' we are, either you leave first, or we leave together." A faint spark of lightning worked its way across his chest, "I've got some stuff I still need t'do in here anyways, preparin' for tomorrow."
 
Upstairs:
The halfling nods to Kaesalor. "Wise words. And I have to say," he looks over to Barost, "you really aren't half as stupid as I thought. You might be very well in this line of business." He grabs the doorknob and exits the room, closing the door behind him.

Common Room:
The woman did her best to show her enthusiasm as she clapped along with the music being presented to her. When the bard leans in for the kiss, she carefully keeps him at bay with her hand positioned at the base of his ribs. "Maybe you should make your courting lengthier the next time around." She whispered to him, before getting up from the stool, clapping. "Bravo! As your muse, it was really an outstanding song." She winks to Garret then tries to rile up the crowd a bit, before jumping down from the stage and sitting back at her table once more.
 
The tabaxi watched his companion, entranced by the performance. If only I had a way with words like that. He was amused, this was the most fun he had had since leaving home and it’d only been a day with these people. “This is a wonderful place to be” he said to himself as the woman stepped away from the stage and began clapping for the “show”
 
Holding his pose for a little longer, Barost waited until he felt confident the halfling had walked further away then released a massive sigh of relief, smiling at the firbolg and clapping him on the shoulder. "Man, I think I got a compliment! Gods ... I haven't had t'act tough like that inna long time. Whew," the sorcerer chuckled before moving over to the bag of coin, dumping it on the bed. "Looks like about a hundred an' twenty-five, we can figure out how we wanna split it later, or maybe start a group fund, yanno? If we're gonna need t'buy anythin' for our trip, an' then th' reward from that gets added into th' pile ... Iunno."

Rubbing his face for a moment the half-elf fell backwards onto the bed, "Honestly, I jus' hope I get some decent sleep tonight ..."
 
Shortly after the woman resigned herself from the preaentation, she gets back to drawing in her sketchbook, slowly tuning out the loud crowd, her focus is solely directed to the task at hand. After not much longer, she suddenly reaches a stop. She pockets the journal and the charcoal, finishes the mug of mead, and makes her way to exit the Song and Sorrow. On the way out, those at the bar could see her smiling to Jackie, who payed no mind to her presence.

Murk, however, manages to catch something else as he followed her every move. The older tabaxi sees for a brief second a small, red-haired figure leaving just moments before the lady did
 
It looks almost as if an immense weight has been lifted off the Firbolg's shoulder. "I would prefer if we didn't do that again." He says in a serious tone, answering the sorcerer's question afterwards. "I'm not so sure having a group fund would be to everyone's best interest. It would shackle us to each other in an unnatural way."
 
Barost waved a hand in the air, "Nah, I don't intend to if I can help it, but it's good to know how t'do sometimes, yanno? You did pretty well, lookin' all gruff and tough."

Hearing the firbolg continue, the sorcerer sat up with a confused expression, "... 'unnatural way'? Ya make it sound almost like golden chains or somethin', I'd think it'd jus' be like ... a shared store of food or something? I mean it's still somethin' to talk about with the others, but it can come in handy sometimes, not fightin' over who pays for what. Already owe Mel for payin' for th' rooms ..." Sighing he rubbed his earring, "Anyways ... ya gonna head back to the main room?"
 
"I only meant that if all our money is in one place, how do we decide what do we do when one of us wants to leave? Do you want to force people to stay with us just because their money is with us? If we want our allies to stick to us, we shouldn't do so by indenturing them to the group fund." He thinks for a moment before continuing. "Hmm... Maybe some middle ground could be reached, as what you are saying has some merit to it. We should ask the others as well." The firbolg walked just out the door before saying "I'm heading downstairs, should we wait for you or will we discuss things in the morning?"
 
"I guess I see your point, but I mean ... if someone wants t'leave, they just need to say so?" the sailor looked confused, "Not ... forcin' anyone to stay." He ran a hand through his hair, "People're free to leave as they like." Frowning he flopped back onto the bed, "I don't wanna leave this room unguarded, 'case somethin' happens. Don't wait up for me, if ya need me, ya know where I am."
 
Murk finishes his drink, trying to be less obvious about watching Garrett's muse than she was about watching them. As she stands to leave, he nods to Mel.

"Think I'll take in the night air," Murk says, dropping a coin on the bar and trying to stay out of his target's line of sight while keeping her in his. But as he does so, he notices a small, red-haired person dart out the door. It didn't seem to be a quick exit as much as someone trying to get out before she did. Trying to ambush her maybe.

As soon as she is out the door, he moves as quickly as he can to the door without making a scene, and pushes it open a foot, trying to catch sight of the lady or the ginger.
 
While Barost proceeds to settle in for the night, Kaesalor is free to make his way down the stairwell and back to the first floor of the bustling tavern. Once he gets back to the Common Room, the tattooed halfling was nowhere to be seen and Murk is just exiting out to the cold nights of Bankshire. Other than that, the tavern is mostly the same as it was before. Garret is still performing on the stage, Mellis is still at the bar where she tried to stay out of tonight's dealings, Snow is still sitting at your table, the younger tabaxi continues to be endeared by all the displays he was not used to back in Montmur.


Murk exits the Song and Sorrow to the empty streets of the Market Ward this late at night. The signs of last night's storm are still present as a chill wind constantly assails the hillside that is the city of Bankshire. The tabaxi's eyes fall on the two people walking away from the tavern, apparently in the same direction. Doing his best to mingle with the shadows of the badly lit streets, the ranger followed them both for several blocks, before they turn abruptly into a smaller side alley. The alley itself did not seem to have a good spot for him to watch whatever the two of them were up to.
 
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