Tales of Ikhorus

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Murk slips out of the door as quietly and quickly as he can, watching the two figures recede in the distance. A thrill shoots down his spine, making his fur stand on end and causing his tail to whip around wildly.

"Been a long time since I tailed anyone," he thinks. "Let's see if I still got it."

His black fur and cloak makes it a little easier to hide in the gloomy corners of the street as he makes his way after the pair of them, but when they both dart down the same alley he snarls silently. The tabaxi wonders if they made him, or were just trying to throw off any pursuer.

Murk tries to get a look into the alley, but it feels wrong. Something gives him the feeling he'd be seen instantly. Maybe a different angle would work. He leaps up to grab an overhang, quietly making his way up and cursing his old bones every time his joints crack from the effort. Still, it doesn't take too long for him to reach the roof and peer over the side.
 
Streets of Bankshire:
When Murk reaches the rooftop of the small building, the night is suddenly still - the sound of the handful of people that walk along the winding streets and the far away rumbling of thunder are the only things to be heard. Peering over the ledge, the two figures glance around, probably startled by some noise the tabaxi caused while climbing. They look to each other, worry very clear on both of their expressions. The man motions something to the woman and slowly stepped back towards the open street, his footsteps barely making any sound as they touch the alleyway's earthen floor.

Once he appears to be satisfied with his scan of the surroundings, he gets back and they start a hushed discussion. The old mercenary's ears are, unfortunately, not as good as they once were and most of the conversation escapes him. He manages to see the man flip through the notebook she was so interested in back at the tavern, then another series of indecipherable whispers before he hands it back to her and they stay silent once more. With a simple nod, the red haired man turns back and starts walking out of the alleyway, leaving her behind.


Song and Sorrow:
In a less exciting turn of events, Mellis is sitting at the bar when she notices Jackie Honeystep saying his farewells to the people he was busy all night talking with. The well-dressed halfling looked over to the woman sitting alone at the bar, then to the table her traveling companions were sitting, now only occupied by a white-furred tabaxi. His eyes darted between them both, deciding which one would offer a more entertaining talk, to this night that was almost coming to an end. He refills his own glass with mead and looked up to Mellis. "A lady such as yourself shouldn't be drinking alone, I'm sure you can find someone." He smiled warmly at her as he refilled her glass as well. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be that someone to another of my patrons."

He jumps over the bar and pats Mellis on the back, then walks up to the table where Snow was sitting. "Hey, I really have never seen you around here, believe me, I'd know. I'm Jackie, half the talent that keeps this place running. Well... a third of it if you count the mead." He laughs at his own joke and pulls a chair for himself. "You are with that weird group of travelers now? You surely weren't with them when they first got here."
 
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Snow had been observing the whole night, partially so he could keep watching the show and partially due to not wanting to leave without a companion by his side, when the new figure moved to the table “Snow of the mountain is the name I was given” the tabaxi cracks a smile and exhales with amusement when he hears the joke “I was not with them, you are correct. I have on,y arrived today if you would believe it, I’m not familiar with such an entertaining setting such as this one” he waived a hand about at the stage, the evening seeming to die down as he realized just how long it had been “time has given me the slip once again it seems, I must’ve just been lost in the moment”
 
Song and Sorrow:
"Snow of Mountains, huh? Not the first to come by with a name as unique as that. Are you from Narrowen by any chance?" Jackie leans back in his chair and motions for one of the servers to refill the tabaxi's mug. "Met many catfolk like yourself that came to this town, some of them had those kind of names."

When snow mentioned not being familiar with entertainment, the halfling lifs his mug with a even wider grin across his face. "Looks like you came to the right place then, we got the best stage in town and some would even dare to say the best performers. If you wnat to be truuly surprised, you should stop by during one of the official show nights." He gets briefly lost in the thoughts of his previous performances before turning back to Snow inquisitively. "Still, if you came here if that colorful bunch, why did they all leave you here? Nobody deserves to be drinking alone at a night as fine as this one."
 
“Narrowen, yes I call that my hometown, a wonderful place” the Tabaxi chuckled to himself “while I came with them, I only met them this morning, well yesterday’s morning I guess you would say. I am use they will return, I am only in town to explore, they are on some sort of mission. I plan on coming along” Snow stretches and instinctively reaches for his own non-existent mug as a mirror to the halfling before catching himself and putting his hand down “I may have to see an official show, on what day will the next one be held?”
 
Song and Sorrow:
A teenage human boy comes by the table and places the second mug of mead in front of the druid. "Here you go, Snow. On the house, of course." He winks and lifts his own mug, "to adventure." After a hefty swig, Jackie places his almost-empty mug to the side. "On a mission you say? They did sound pretty obstinate when they got here -- especially the Garthok kid over there." He said while nodding to the stage. "About the shows, my sister is almost finished preparing her next play, perhaps I can see you here tomorrow night. If you are not busy with that mission you got yourself into." The halfling chuckled to himself once more, as if having a mission was something he just couldn't wrap his head around.

Streets of Banskhire:
Murk sees, from the building's roof, the tattooed halfling leave the alleyway and disappear among the city streets further downhill. There, he watches quietly as the scarred woman stands alone among the shadows, still holding the small journal. The seconds seem to stretch as the woman simply stands there, doing nothing other than quietly stare into the increasingly darker night. Eventually, she walks out of the alleyway and into the Market Ward's wide streets, at a casual pace, she makes her way downhill and towards the city wall.
 
The firbolg nods towards Barost. "You should rest. You'll need it tomorrow." He says as he leaves.

Heading downstairs, he briefly contemplates sitting down with his companions, but that can wait. Instead, he heads out to the stables, checking on the antelopes that have been dragging their cart. He decides he wants to have a conversation with them, sitting down just outside of the stables and casting Speak with Animals over the next ten minutes.

When he is finished, he approaches the beasts of burden. "So, have you been treated well?"
 
The tabaxi reached for the mug from the younger man with a smile “Why thank you” he said as he hoisted his mug “to adventure!” He laughed, perhaps misunderstanding the focus of the halfling’s amusement. He would’ve found a task such as the one they’re on currently to be far out of his reach not just days ago. “I surely hope I can see your sister tomorrow...actually, I believe we’re leaving tomorrow, I should most likely purchase a room in which I could rest until then” the tabaxi drank once more from the mug and caught himself in another thought “actually did we say when we would leave? I need to find that out...”
 
Song and Sorrow:
Snow's stream of thoughts only causes Jackie to laugh even more. "Sounds like you and your friends still have a lot to work out." He stops in the midst of his amusement to drink from his mug of mead. "Maybe you should go talk to them instead of enjoying this fine drink with me. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll see you again tomorrow." He winks to the tabaxi and gets up from the chair. With a small nod, the flamboyant halfling moves up to another table where he quickly joins an ongoing conversation with patrons he appeared to know well.


Stables:
Inside the much smaller building off to the side of the Song and Sorrow, Kaesalor can easily find the two antelopes. As he approaches them, he notices that the inside of each of their stalls has long scratch lines across their walls, most likely due to the beasts' horns. They are both still awake, although one of them is close to dozing off when you come to them. "Yeah... they are good." One of them speaks as the other simply nods accordingly, but that could simply be a sign of his fight against sleep. "Small here.. not enough space.. miss the hills, the grass.." He lets the silence fall between them as he curiously looked to the firbolg. "Food's good," the half asleep one adds to the conversation, his eyes still half-closed. "Yeah.." the first one agrees, "the food is good."


Streets of Bankshire:
Meanwhile, far away from the rest of his companions, Murk is tailing the scarred lady as she moves across the streets of Bankshire. The ranger did his best to stick to the shadows as he followed her and, as far as he knows, it seemed to be working. The lone human simply walks downhill, taking a few turns here or there as she slowly gets to the foot of the hill that Bankshire is built on top of. After over fifteen minutes, she reaches a small gate on the outer wall of the series, that she passes through towards the Upper Slums, outside of the city proper.

Now that Murk got to the poorer part of town, the difference between there and all the places he visited earlier today or on the previous night is jarring. During his late night mision, the tabaxi passes through many houses on different levels of precariousness as well as many small street corner bars filled with customers, drinking away through the night. He follows the lady until she enters into one of these small, disheveled establishments -- the weathered sign above the door has the figure of a hyena as well as the words "Hyena's Head Bar".
 
Kaeasalor nods to the animals, understanding their plight of being stuck in such a small space. He almost feels the same way just for being in a city, and he isn't even confined to just a few square feet of space. "Don't worry, we are leaving for the hills again tomorrow." He says reassuringly. He takes a mental note that he should take them for a hike occasionally if they were to stay longer in town.

"I'm glad you like the food at least. Sleep well." He says, leaving them behind and heading inside. Seeing that Snow is sitting alone, he takes a seat next to him, trying his best to strike up a conversation. "So, kid. What's your story?"
 
Snow sat in silence for a moment before the firbolg sat next to him. He looked up at the larger humanoid and took a swig from his mug “a young one from narrowen decided that maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t be so bad” he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling “I've always wondered what it’s like out there, beyond the walls of our society. A thrilling prospect isn’t it?” He said as a smile formed along his face
 
Streets of Bankshire:
Murk sees the lady entering the empty bar and follows behind her, trying his best to remain unseen. The ranger reaches one of the dirty windows that might have been completely see-through years ago and peeked into the establishment. Inside, most of the tables are empty, except for one where a few gentlemen wearing gray or black clothing that are currently playing cards; other than them, the only other people in the room are the scarred woman and a middle-aged, bald half-orc that stands behind the bar. They converse for a moment before she vanishes behind a back door on the other side of the room.
 
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Kaesalor contemplates the tabaxi's words for a moment. "So many like to think the wilds are exciting, or thrilling as you have put it. The wilds are different from your safe and enclosed towns. They are open and free, that is true. But they are also dangerous. I learned that lesson the hard way." He says, his expression darkening and his voice turning somber. "But when I die one day, I want to die out there. It is my home, and I want to restore it to the peace it once had." He says, trying to keep his powerful, rumbling voice as quiet as he can in this enclosed space.
 
Murk weighs his options in the street as the woman disappears. He could return to the group with the news, that this woman who was watching them had a chat with their contact. Or he could find out more, and he was always interested in finding out more. The tabaxi waits a few minutes, watching the door the woman entered, before dropping his hood and entering the tavern, doing his best to look lost as he approaches the bar.

"Greetings friend," he says, being careful not to speak loud enough to be heard beyond any doors leading off the room. "This is the Hyena's Head, ain't it? Got a little lost on the way over. Just got in earlier today looking for some work so haven't learned the lay of the land as it were."

He fishes out some coins from his pocket and puts it down on the bar. "But in any case, met a lovely lady earlier on the street, had her share of scars -- always like a girl with some scars, shows they can handle themselves, although this one had a lot less fur than I'm used to if you know what I mean -- anyway, she said this place was as good a place as any to wet your whistle. Figured I'd see what the word was in town while I had a drink."
 
Hyena's Head:
As soon as the tabaxi enters the tavern, five pairs of eyes followed his movement up to the bar, as even the small talk of the men playing cards ceases and silence creeps over the place. The half-orc behind the bar drops the rag he was carrying on top of the counter, and stares at the no longer retired mercenary. "Is that so, fellow?" His coarse voice drags out the words, his speech slow and very paused. "I don't quite get who you're talkin' about. Y'know how it is like, plenty o' customers.." His eyes scan the empty room, almost daring the vacant seats to contradict the older bartender's words. "So, what drink you want, pal?" AThe four and only patrons seem to have dropped their cards on the table, their attention now solely focused on the stranger.
 
"Think an ale oughta cover it." Murk says, looking back toward the card-playing patrons and nodding at them, meeting each one of their stares. "Don't mind me boys. Enjoy your cards. I only play with liars I know."

He waits for his drink, one hand resting on his sword belt, not far from his blade. Murk wills his tail to stay still. He was never the face of a group, always preferring to stick to the shadows and jump in when things got out of hand. Time to return to the shadows.

"As for liars, I guess that makes two of us, baldy," he says, turning back to the barkeep. "On second thought, keep your sour ale." He swipes the coins back into his pouch, and instead leans over the bar. His ears lower, claws slowly gouging the wood, and he sneers at the half-orc. "Tell your friend I hope the little ginger liked her drawings."

Murk rocks back to his feet, pulls his hood up, and exits, heading back in the direction of the Song and Sorrow.
 
Murk ran a solid portion of the distance between the ragtag bar and Bankshire proper, although the people inside the establishment didn't make any moves to follow him. Eventually, he slowed down and finished the trip uphill through the streets of the Market Ward, only a handful of lamp posts lighting your path. After some time, the tabaxi sees the familiar symbol of the weeping violin and walks into the tavern once more.

Inside, everything is about the same as it was when you left behind the two figures, although the number of customers has diminished slowly as the night progresses. Barost was still upstairs, but, other than him, your companions are still in the common room, keeping themselves busy the best way they can.
 
Snow noticed Kaelsor’s darkening demeanor and responded by becoming lessen relax, he sat up for a moment and thought to himself “I understand then. I truly do not mean to appear as someone who wishes to explore just for the sake of it, I feel it to be my duty, as you say it is your wish to restore its peace, I wish to one day venture into the woods in peace” as he put his mug down again, it was emptied and the need for sleep had hit him like a bag of rocks. “I hope I can help on your Journey” he said to the firbolg as he walked to go buy himself a room
 
Eventually, the remaining of you go up the two sets of stairs that lead to your various rooms, where you can rest until morning. Almost as if trying to preemptively compensate for the amount of danger tomorrow will definitely bring, no strange dreams make their way into any of your heads this time around -- sleep is as peaceful as it can be.


In the next morning, you all make your way down to the common room of the Song and Sorrow, each at their own pace. Grabbing a table, the older woman that takes care of the bar in the mornings serves you all a simple breakfast and a mug of mead, if you so require it. Among the food and warmth that are an amazing change of pace for those of you that just got to town, or those stationed at the ragtag sort of inn, you are left to plan for the upcoming trip and mission.
 
Murk happily takes the morning mead, finishing his food and draining the cup.

"Took in the sights last night. Granite's muse, the artist who was so interested in us, met up with your halfling friend last night." He nods to Barost. He tells them what he saw of the interaction. "She ended her night at another inn, where I ran into a roadblock, namely a big ass half-orc. So I called it a night."

The tabaxi rubs one sore shoulder, and then the other. Damn lumpy beds. He'd take a nice, thick tree branch any day.

"Speaking of orcs, what led you to take this job? Not that I need a reason to crack some tusks. Just wondering."
 
Waking in the morning, Barost stretched, feeling more rested than he had yesterday for sure. Doing his morning routine with a slight bounce to his step he happily joined the others at the table, digging into the offered meal. Frowning briefly at Murk's report, he replied, "Understandable -- mighta impressed some of 'em, so maybe they'll find us again for work down th' line?" He patted a pouch on his hip, "The pay was good at least, if we need anythin' to stock up on, or if we jus' wanna split it now."

Taking a swig of his drink, he coughed briefly, "Er ... uh, the way it was written just, really caught our attention. Yanno, a true 'call to action' or whatever, like in the bard tales?"
 
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