It was early morning on the First's Femest of Mentrischt, 5,728 NB and dawn was just beginning to break over the Shady Corner. Most of town had not gotten up yet, save for a few who were awake and gathering for a daily meal. A loud "thud" can be heard as the tavern doors swing open towards the tables. A verry, very old Elf and a filthy, dirt covered Ixifar stumble in and collapse at the first table they are able to reach. The Elf seems to be mumbling quietly to himself, and the Ixifar has a deadpan look about him, seeming unfocused on anything.
Katri sat in the tavern, quietly eating breakfast after a long night of pacing and thought. She had been unable to sleep and given up on the thought long ago. She looked up curiously when the door swung open with a thud to reveal a pink and grey dawn along with two faces she had never seen before. She watched as the both collapse at the nearest table, sparing only a snort of amusement for Nasher, who stumbled in looking hungover and miserable.
She rose quietly, taking her plate to the kitchen along the way, and strode over to the Elf and Ixifar. She offered them two glasses of ale she had picked up between destinations, "You look worn. If you wish, drink. I haven't poisoned them. What brings you here?"
The Warlock is in the darkest corner of the tavern relaxed and in deep thought when two unfamiliar faces stumble in. Syra's eye shoot open and she stares intently at the two. She shifts forward just so the light hits her face and speaks "What do we have here?" Her eyes dark and her face impassive she looks to Katri as she offers the elf and the ixifar some ale.
Zwey walks into the Shady Corners, a heavy pack full of traveling kit on his shoulders, wearing his full battle dress. He catches the urodeq giving the pair drinks, and chuckles at her remark. Walking over, nodding to the Capitan, and bends at the waist, and says in a hushed but deep tone carrying tone between the two newcomer's heads, "Ya know, there are 3 ways to tell if your drink has been poisoned. One, if and Urodeq hands it to you. Two, if they feel the need to tell you its not been poisoned. And Three, to taste it. Id be wary of that ale." Zwey stands again, chuckling, before he noticed the condition of the two travelers. "It looks as if you two have had quite the journey! Here, this ought to bring you round!" -burst recover?-
Katri snorted and rolled her eyes, settling down with her back against the wall. She chuckled at the Angori, adjusting her mask to rest on top of her head, "Because somehow between here and the bar- in plain sight- I managed to poison two ales without notice. I may be a uordeq of some talents Zwey, but I'm not quite that talented. Aside from that, I have better things to do with my time than kill indescriminately and publicly. It's a danger to my health."
As Ohren sniffs the Ixifar, the only thing he is able to smell is the very potent odor of Ale, as if the man had bathed in it recently. Then all of a sudden, the man stops crying, albeit sniffling a little, and takes the mug in front of him, draining its contents in seconds. He sets the empty container down and resumes his deadpan look which lasted for all of five seconds before he starts wailing again, head down on the bar and arms by his side.
Between sobs he can be heard mumbling short phrases to himself such as, “I’ll get her back,” and “I’ll do it right, I promise.”
Zwey kneels down, so he is about eye level with the Ixifar, " Who is she? Where has she gone?" Zwey signal the barkeep for anouther drink. "We are a town of hearty adventurers! I am sure that our combined might can bring anyone home from any danger they may face!"
The drunken Ixifar raises his head to the woman that spoke and begins to make a mumbled sound. When nothing comes out right, he falls to his kness and throws up a rancid pile of putred alcohol filled vomit. He wipes his face, then turns to the Angori and says "My daughter. She's been taken. I KNOW I CAN MAKE THIS RIGHT! I'll try harder. I'll be there more! I have to find her, PLEASE!" He collapses into a heap and continues whaling on and on.
"Show compassion Syra, its a good trait for a leader to have." Zwey says as he directs a hard look a the Crosair. Returning his gaze to the vomit covered ixifar, and stands, goes to the bar, "Hey Mac, get something greasy and full of meat started, could you? Also, day old bread and water, for the time being." Sliding afew slivers across the bar, Zwey returns to the Ixifar.
Setting the plate down on the table, Zwey tries to meet the ixifar's gaze, "Sir, we are going to need some details about you and your daughter. What is your name? And from where do you hail? And if the town will not help, I can and will throw the considerable might of the Gallimaufry at the issue at hand."
The goblin watched as the Ixifar emptied his stomach all onto the floor. Nasher burst out in a loud, obnoxious laugh at the Ixifar's expense, forgetting momentarily about the hangover he had. "Birdy made mess of himself!" the goblin shouted, rolling backwords in laughter. The hangover hit him again suddenly, forcing the goblin to roll himself over to the table's edge and add his own pile to the floor beneath him. The goblin just sighed as he began to drink more of his water.
The Ixifar looks up to Zwey with watery eyes and a drunken smile on his face then shuffles forward on his knees and embraces the Angori’s leg in a great hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he exclaims before stopping suddenly, letting go of Zwey’s leg and retching again on the floor. He wipes his mouth and stands on wobbly legs, grabbing the table and Zwey’s armor for support.
“My n-name is uh… Ce-… uh, Cephus. Yeah, that’s me,” he stammered. “Andromeda…” he starts to say, but as soon as he utters the name he bursts into tears again and pounds on the Angori’s armor weakly, sliding down to his knees again onto the floor, hugging Zwey’s leg again. With a muffled voice he cries, “I miss her so much!”
Zwey has had about enough of the slobbering mess at this feet. He pulls the Ixifar to his feet, and stares him down. Zwey face has no give in it, but kindness and concern lay in his eyes. "Cephus, was it? Listen here, while I understand your pain, Andromeda and I need you to be strong right now." Zwey places the filthy ixifar into a chair at another table, away from the vomit. Placing the plate in front of him again, Zwey pushes the Ixifar to get something into his system.
"There can be no weakness now, if we aim to find your daughter. Get something solid on your stomach, start soaking up that ale. Orn is much smaller with the tools I have at my disposal, I just need to know where to go, Cephus."
As the Ixifar tells the name of his daughter Syra's eyes light up "now why does that name sound so familiar? Andromeda?" She test the name "Andromeda? where have i heard this before? Cephus where do you come from?" The elf speaks with a soft calm tone trying to have some sort of sympathy.
Cephus turns up his nose at the idea of food, but spots the second mug of ale that was left for the Elf earlier. He quickly grabs it and drains the mug before anyone can stop him. Setting down the container and knocking it over in the process, he puts a smile on his face that melts slowly as he starts to think again.
“Th-there’s a town… that I’m from, b-but I haven’t been in… years. I have a ranch a couple miles out of t-town,” he says, trembling a little. “C-can I have another drink p-please?”
Zwey, beginning to loose his temper, stands, grabs his hammer, and whindmill slams the the head of the hammer onto the mug into the table, -breach the mug into the table, with lots of hammer?-. "Perhaps we should start to sober up, for your daughter's sake."says Zwey, all smiles and good vibes. Zwey walks behind the ixifar, and grabs him by both shoulders, "Lets see what the Ancestors think about this drunkenness, maybe their knowledge of having to be suddenly sober can help us this day. -purge-"
As Zwey hits the mug, pieces of both it and the bar spray the two. Cephus flinches heavily at the brute force of the Angori and quivers as Zwey grabs him. As the magic hits the Ixifar, he sits there for a second, eyes wide as if stricken. Then with a great convulsion, he hurls the remaining contents of his stomach onto Zwey’s front, completely covering his armor with bile.
Cephus, with strength not necessarily attributed to someone in his condition, shakes free of the hold and scrambles behind the bar peering over it. He then ducks down behind it and glass bottles can be heard clinking together. After a moment, Cephus comes back around to the front with two bottles of wine in hand and a rag. He stumbles a bit, dropping one, causing it to shatter, but he pays it no mind.
“I’m s-sorry! So s-sorry! I’ll clean it up for you,” he says as he pulls the cork from the wine with his teeth and takes a few swallows. He wets the rag with the dark red liquid (which has a label on the side that says, “Save for Jeb”) and begins to wipe Zwey’s armor clean, leaving a burgundy shade behind.
Nasher watche with dizzy eyes as the ixifar wretche all over the angori. "Seems your color Horney One! HA!" the goblin shoute as he pointed. He wante to laugh profusley, but the goblin felt whats left of his own stomach rolling so he settle for taking another swig of water instead.
Katri sat back quietly and listened, eyes on the group with amusement, as she watched the scene unfold. She gave a quiet snort of laughter. The Uordeqi woman shook her head as she pulled her mask down over her face and drew up her hood in preparation to walk out into the growing sunlight of the morning. "Let him drink himself in to oblivion if he wants, Zwey, and please don't volunteer all of us for a fool's errand without asking." She added with a chuckle.
She paused and looked the Ixifar dead on and ginglerly avoided the spilled wine and broken glass as she moved for the door, "Of course, if he does that.... I'm not sure if helping him search for his girl is of any use, if he's just going to run her off with the reek of alcohol anyway. It's no skin off my back either way, really."
"I did not volunteer you specificly. I do not think it would take much convincing for some other members of town to come along, should the Gallimaufry not have the strength to take this on." Zwey stares the Urodeq down as she walks to the door, "Its is this man's condition that worries me most, no daughter deserves to suffer a drunkard of a father. I will not take her from him, but I'll be further danmed if I let this go unchecked"
"He's a grown man with more years than you, I'd wager." Katri returned over her shoulder, hand resting on the wood of the door. "It's not up to you. If you want to play mother hen, find a child of your own. Whether or not you bring him to her, is your doing, but you've no sway over what he decides to do with his own sodding drunkard self. What a child deserves is not always the same as the parents are willing to give." Her last words sounded nearly as cold and bitter as they tasted on her tongue.
“It’s not a f-fool’s errand,” Cephus exclaimed. “I know I didn’t do it right before, but I p-promise I’ll do it right this time… I just need to dull it… a little you know?” He hung his head for a moment as another tear ran down his face. Then, he looked up to Zwey with genuine remorse and said, “Please, you have to help me. She was taken from our farm. I was able to hurt that blasted harpy before it got away. It killed my wife t-too! Just… just please help me find her and… and I promise I’ll never touch ale again! I can take you b-back so we can start looking!”
The goblin stumbled into the bar, hand upon his head from the ragin head ache he had. 1 of his eyes was still dialated from the hallucinations he'd been suffering the past 2 days and the effects were still wearing off. He grabbed a bottle of water from the bar, not feeling for his same liquor breakfast. He then proceeded to a table in the center of the tavern where he decidedly sat back in relaxation.