[center][b][i]~IN THE BEGINNING~[/i][/b]
[i]Time: Second Hour and Second Quarter of MiddleDay[/i][/center]

[i]Old Boar's Inn; Lobby[/i]
[b][Locien/Ganti][/b]

Locien would chuckle, eventually leading to a full blown laugh as Ganti's ramblings increased, his tassels thrown back with his merry head. "No mate, he's actually not that bad. Just full of angst and untapped heroism." Locien paused, quirking his head upwards, "That and maybe just a little bit of darkness thrown into the mix." Quickly, his head would be propped under a gloved hand, as if throughly enthralled by the mention of the Shepard of Fire, "But this chaotic, too spooky for you, god you mentioned. Tell me more, for I have not heard this story quite yet. And what is this 'Fitz' you speak of? Sounds quite enthralling, to be honest." 

Just as quickly, however, the elven bard's attention would snap to the empty tankard, and then the bar. Smoothly sliding out of the booth (while brushing Ganti aside), he exclaimed, "But first, mate -- booze. Care to to join me?" Without waiting for a response, he would begin to limp his way back to the black stoned surface of the bar...

[center]----[/center]

[i]The Old Boar's Inn; Bar[/i]
[b][Missile/Pullo/Kresnik/Locien][/b]

The sharkman eyed Missile suspiciously, his hands uncrunching from the counter top as his gruff voice voiced his thoughts, "Y-you do?" He looked from the dhampir to the dilconius, as if he were trying to detect some sort of joke between them. "Cause I've been hearing some people complaining that my cobbler wasn't that great anymore..." Bruce would look back to Kresnik, and then to Missile, large fingers pressed together as he gave a slight bow, "Sorry, mates. Orders will be coming up. Both of 'em. On the house." Drinks would be hastily stirred, mixed, and placed before them in all of their alcholic glory before Bruce turned to go. However, something jolted him, cause the hulking crossbreed to turn back to Missile. "Did you say that the Boar is drunk downstairs?" If the pink haired woman gave affirmation, Bruce would sigh heavily, putting a large hand to where his forehead would be, muttering under his breath, more than to himself than anyone else, "Guess I'll have to go get him.... -- DAVEY!" The kitchen shutters would open, the cook's eyes peeping out, "One full clucker, with crushed Irish'd butter, and one of mine -- for him." The shark's massive forefinger would point to Kresnik before disappearing behind the swinging door...

...In which Locien would appear, firmly planting himself between Missile and Kresnik, "Allo mates." Turning his attention to the bar, with eyes closed, he began to rattle off an order, "I'd like a double-gutted tent shot with extra sprung juice and three eyeballs." Opening his eyes, a drastically disappointed frown would appear on his face, "Oi, where'd the barkeep go?"

[center]++++[/center]

[i]The WildWood; West Hemisquare[/i]
[b][Garret][/b]

Another giggle. "Yes, [i]expose[/i]. Brave knight, you wished to know where the nearest place of home is. But out in this wild, wild wood, such shelter is well hidden and does not welcome strangers. More than once has fate tempted those to find those who hide, but alas for the seekers, Death had better placement for their desires. Rarely is such precious information exposed to all those who seek to hide from dangers."

A step of the delicate frame was taken towards the demonblooded knight, "But I sense great honor in you, sir. And for this, I can give your needs under my guidance. But I cannot do so with your friend flying above." If Garret hesitated, she would smile softly, "Your guide is a creature that would frighten many. Do not worry, my dear knight - you will be well." If he accepted the offer, she would fully walk to him, coming so close that she could look directly look to his eyes, "Come brave knight." Her clawed hand would softly grasp one of his, tugging on it as she began to lead him, "Let us go."

However, if Garret didn't quite trust her, questions and riddles could always continue to extract information..."