@Alisdragon911@ineffable

"Can I help you?"

The words reached over the girls shoulder and tugged on their ear with a force that could not be ignored. While spoken softly the words were clear and sharp, abruptly cutting the near silence found this far from the main floor. They carried with them an air of confidence and authority with a slight hidden undertone of a faint frustration and displeasure.

Behind the women stood not one but two of the Radahaw brothers. And in such close proximity without confrontation...
The one who spoke stood on the right, his focus on the cuffs of his elegant black suit as he meticulously adjusted them to fit perfectly to his attire. His skin was smooth and eyes steely, hiding a thousand thoughts and memories behind them. Instantly it seemed if his nature was more serious inclined, if not troubled.

Standing beside him, half a foot taller and much more rougher in appearance was the other brother. His clothes simple and stained serving functionality over style. His skin was marked with tattoos and scars and even his posture was more carefree and restless. This man seemed more raw, even his eyes had an animalistic inclination to them. He was shamelessly looking the girls over from foot to head when they turned around. A sly smile on his lips and predatory glare in his eye as he speaks in a deep voice with a rough rugged charm.

"Or maybe can I help you?"

@Dark Light @Alisdragon911
"What the-" Lunaria raises her eyebrows at the men in the hall. She turns to look at both of them. Both handsome. She draws the dagger instantly out her boot, quite discreetly and pushes her red hair out of her face. Her bright blue eyes were shining brightly out of fierceness and a bit of shyness as well which was not common for Lunaria. She runs her tongue over her lips wetting them and says again. "Yes"

The new entretainer coughed and gripped the hand firmly, before reaching in his pocket for the key he had been given, and picked up the various bags and instruments he had brought in. His shoes once again clinked against the floor, before he vanished upstairs.

His room was nice, it had to be said. The bed was bigger than a single, but not quite a double, and there were somehow electrical sockets. He supposed that the multi-dimensional quality of the tavern meant it would be an amalgamation of different tech, but it was still strange to see.

He unzipped the suitcase and rustled around for first his hygiene bag, next his formal clothing; the boss had asked to see a performance, so he would have to comply.

When he walked down, he was clean-shaven, and his hair had been trimmed slightly. In one of his hands he was holding a trumpet, the metal polished and shiny, seemingly slightly glowing within the light. The mouthpiece wasn't on it yet, but he had it in his pocket, and lightly adjusted his waistcoat.

He pulled a bar stool to a clear space and sat down, experimentally fiddling to make sure he needed no grease or oil, before slipping the mouthpiece in and taking a breath, wondering what he would play even as he set the instrument to his lips.

@Dark Light@Snarfulblast@ineffable
Carefully turning the pages of his book koru scanned the pages for anything that might resemble instruction on how one might construct a paper doll, one hand sifting through his spell components for the straw needed. His brow furrowed as he came closer to section that appeared to have a large amount of pages torn out, he had no rare collection of what or who had done this to his book or what may have been written there. Hesitating to turn past the torn section he reached for his wine, downing it all quickly and flipping pass with while he wasn't looking directly at it. The sight of regular notes on the other side where a little more comforting if not a little harder to read.

The old hand writing was harder to read both due to age and the quality of the handwriting itself, much to his joy what he hoped were instructions on making a straw doll were there. unlike his notes now these instructions had been messily packing into a corner of the page making them much harder to comprehend.

Gently he began to shape the stalks of grain into shape, though the more more he tried to hold it in place thew more the straw began to slide and shift out of place. His clumsy hands would try again and again to mold the straw into shape. A several broken shoots later he was about to put the finishing touches on the doll a loud and sudden shouting came from behind him causing him to jump and release his grip on the soon to be doll that now fell back into its components.

Koru looked upon the ruins of what should have been a simple task, he couldn't help but lament how much easier this would have been if the straw was still alive and not the dried out husk that lay before him. He put his head in his hands and began massaging his face, he could decide if he was more relieved or hurt when the barman offer the girl one of their own Straw dool then wait for him to finish.

When the barman returned he would probably order something a lot stronger to massage his wounded pride.

@Dark Light Snarf brought the girl to the door to his room, "You stay out here lass, I'll not be a minute." Entering his room, he went to the chest at the end of his bed. He opened it to reveal a myriad of items, among them where a few children toys. Memories of his very young years flooded back to him, of when he was young enough to be considered 15 among humans he wanted to make toys for children. He shook his head and smiled glad he had decided to become a bartender, grabbing one of the more simple straw dolls he closed the chest and left his room. Handing the girl the doll, "Here ya go lass now go on home tah yer mither she's probably worried sick about yah." He went back downstairs and stood back on the box behind the bar counter so he could see over it.

@ineffable@Dark Light

"I would not anger them, how much they piss us off we still have to keep our cool." Ayeka says ass she rubs her ears from being around loud sounds to get her attention. She turns around to looks at the two hot looking brothers. "Yes, you may." She quickly hides her elf ears as she knows her emotions better than her face. Her fingers nails turn into sharp ice daggers as she is a bit weary of the two brothers that just appeared in front of her and the double doors behind her, she is thinking crap we are trap.

@Dark Light

"Can I help you?" Knutik peered over the shoulder of the lady he was standing behind @ineffable and took a look at the two men that seemed to have appeared out of no where. He didn't hear them approaching and added to his thoughts that the two men looked rather funny side by side with how they seemed to contradict each other. Knutik found himself feeling strangely exposed and vulnerable within the tallest ones presence. The energy the man gave off was all too familiar to the shade, it partially matched his own. "Or maybe can I help you?" These two were definitely not humans.

@Varicke@Alisdragon911@ineffable

Dorian, now satisfied with his cuffs stopped playing with his suit and gave his full attention to the trio before him. His steely eyes and sharp gaze bore into them as he waited expectantly.
"Well?" he finally asks." What is it I can do for you?" his voice soft and smooth, remains polite, but it's clear he is a very busy man.

Clayton seemed to grow even taller and more intimidating. His grin spread wider and his muscles slightly tensed. He seemed to relish in the uncomfortable aura that grew in the air around them. Savouring the awkward silence, he seemed in no rush to go anywhere.

@Varicke@Alisdragon911@Dark Light
Lunaria feels someone behind her and turns to look, she hides her gasp however and just simply raises an eyebrow at him. She looks back at Dorian.
"I want to know exactly what the hell is going on in this 'Tavern' of yours" She glares at him and grips her bow tighter.

@ineffable@Dark Light@Varicke

"I want a diffrent job, the old bartender finally woke up to do his job again." Ayeka says as she met Dorian before as she is used to his fancy ways and cold business like ways. She looks at the guy that joins them on the way here. She did not want to waste the boss time just from talking to them for their personal problems.

Dorian answers Lunaria

"My dear, you are going to have to be more precise in your askings if you truly want answers. Why it would be presumptuous for us to assume that at any one given moment I could be fully aware of 'what in the hell'" he mimics her words with a smile." was going on around me let alone in 'this' tavern." He smiles a well practised charming smile and his eyes light up as words come to mind. His voice dips into a sultry whisper and he moves closer to her. Eyes always locked with hers." Take this moment for example "
He plays with his words as he speaks, drawing on their length and accentuating certain syllables.
" What is even happening here? " He moves close enough that his breath can be felt upon her skin. " What is even happening here?" he moves back just enough so his bright smile can be seen and continues to whisper in her ear. " Five present but only four alive. Strangers conversing in a hallway. Fear and arousal taint the air. Those with every reason to be alike are not while those without reason find cause to be. A heart beats slightly faster than its usual rhythm, a lady mindfully covers her ears. We stand amongst a violent aggressor yet another is at the ready and holds the means to kill. The searching and the found both not where they are meant to be. The individual strands of fate entangle a moment to memory when it is simply but that, a passing moment."

And with that he passes, gently pushing down the middle of the group, sliding past everyone. He pauses for a brief moment when he gets a small static shock from Knutik and glances his way. Ignoring it he carries on and moves to his room.

" Answer me all that and all my knowledge is yours if you have the hours to pry it from me, until then I must ask that you excuse me." Dorian who had largely ignored the rest of the group turns to address them all. " I leave you in the company of my brother. He will see to anything you need and sort out scheduling and employment issues, I believe we need a keeper to distribute and collect the keys to the rooms. Good evening all."

Dorian swung the door open casually as he entered his room. While the door didn't open extremely wide, neither did he attempt to obscure the view. There it was as clear as day, a glimpse into the mysterious room. Yet strangely, as soon as the large doors clicked shut behind him, closing against one another, no one could recall what they had seen. No matter how hard their memory may try to reconstruct the image, their ability to recall was met with insecurity, uncertainty and jumbled images from their past.
It was a word lost on the tip of your tongue, that dream you just awoke from but can't explain. It was right there but at the same time unreachable. Time sought only to further erase the foggy memory, after a short moment they wouldn't even remember that they couldn't remember. Soon they simply wouldn't think on it anymore.
You couldn't even feel it slipping away, it was there and then gone. You can't know what you don't know and you wont remember what you don't remember.
The shade being what it was would linger on that unexplainable fleeting feeling longer than any of the others. But he too would forget that he forgot.

That just left Clay standing there before them. He rolled his eyes as his brother left but brought his hands together to pop his knuckles as he looked over his new acquaintances.

@Snarfulblast The girl was overcome with relief more than anything else. Tension flooded from her as she put her nerves to rest and could finally relax. It was like she was finally free to breath now and it only caused her sweet innocent glow to brighten.

Thank you so much! She squeals to the barman.
Taking her doll she sits it before her and starts whispering to it.
Where was I? Oh yea. *mumbled whispering* ...and I ate his sweet too...
...I left foot prints on grams good rug
...didn't say nuffin when 'e got grounded...
...kicked the cat... then there was an awkward pause. Her face suddenly guilt stricken as the next confession was a bit harder to get out. She stammered with her words remembering fresh detail.
Told em I left my doll up the hill... then I let them inside

No sooner had the little girl finished her last word a creepy scraping sound begins clawing from every shadow. The darkness within the shadows begins to bump and boil as it gives way to a form. Slowly escaping the shadows vile scarecrows begin dragging themselves out of every dark nook and cranny into the taverns main hall. Crude leather bag faces on hessian sack bodies with limbs of bound sharp strong straw, these nightmarish creatures came for those who hadn't confessed.

The taverns door swung wildly open, it was now anchored and strongly connected to its current location, the little girls world, and the laws of that world true and strong throughout the nameless tavern!
It was the night of the Straw Man, and if you didn't burn away your sins they would come to take you away...

@Dark Light

He had heard every word that was whispered and it was only a short moment after it was all said and done that Knutik realized the man was explaining their literal situation. The whispered words spoken seemed to still linger in the air of silence even after the man turned away to head to a room, supposedly his. The shade felt a small sting on his left hand as Dorian brushed past him. The man paused to address the group as a whole stating that his brother would handle the rest of the situation.

Being curious by nature, Knutik couldn't resist the urge to catch a look at the strange man's room. He wasn't expecting much but what he did see barely registered to him fast enough before the doors shut, leaving him with a slightly odd feeling. Surely he did just watch the man enter his room, and surely he did catch a glimpse of the inside... so why did it feel like there was a gap some where in that span of time? He felt like brushing the feeling off since it seemed like such a small thing, but there was no doubt in his mind that he did see something. He made a serious mental note to check out that room just to make sure insanity wasn't some kind of special 'emotion' that was effecting him. Maybe he'll sneak in later.

He was just beginning to think of when would be a good time to sneak in before he felt the stinging on his hand again. He brought it up to his face only to find that a small spot on the back of his hand, for lack of a better word, was dripping. He ran a claw over it and it almost looked like tar. He ran a gentle shadow over the 'wound' and it closed up. Pain... it hurt.... something had actually hurt him... physically. The very thought terrified him, and it only happened when that man brushed by him. Knutik felt like retreating to his realm where he was safe, where his own fears couldn't reach him, but he decided against it figuring that it would be weird for him to up and leave in a panic; he's already made a fool of himself enough. He turned to see that the taller one did in fact remain behind to help them. Knutik remembered he only came up here following the vibes of violence and to relieve his boredom, so being in the presence of this intimating... human? Beast?... was almost enough to make the shade want to go back down to the bar. Speaking of the bar, he could've sworn he heard something morph in the shadows... and... scratching? He shuddered. Something wasn't quite right.... he turned to face the direction of the stairs wondering if he should check it out.

@Dark Light@Varicke@Alisdragon911
"For god's sake!" Lunaria exploded after the man had left. "What in fuck's sake does he think he's doing?" She turned to face the other man, blue eyes glowing bright with anger. "Well? Can you explain this?" She asks, angrily. She can feel a sense of unease from the shade like creature behind her and almost a sense of annoyance from the girl next to her, probably directed straight at Lunaria. She wanted answers and she was going to get them.

Niccola stands in the entrance of the tavern, dripping and befuddled, the confusion clearly evident on her features. A moment before she had been at the bottom of the pond, attempting to retrieve the hatchet that she had tossed into the water in a fit of pique and now she shifts from foot to foot in nothing but her wet shift and soaking braid, a puddle forming around her bare feet. She remembers a light through the gloom of the peaty water and now she is here. She ponders this a moment longer, before shrugging and making her way towards the crackling fire. After all, there are more things in heaven and earth and she is wet and cold. So now instead of standing on the doorstep wet and confused, she stands in front of the fire wet and confused, hands outstretched towards the inviting flames as she casts surreptitious glances around her.

@Dark Light@ineffable

"You must be human, this a magical tavern where all kinds of supernatural creatures can stay to forget their troubles." Ayeka says to the girl who wanted answers before looking at Clay as she is a bit annoy at the moment. "I don't want a job that I am resbonsiable for forest fires, kids crying on Christmas, or the people going broke for not making shoes." She may be a elf but elves can do more than just those jobs she just mention. She is sick of hearing the sounds from the first floor as she wanted to rip the tips of her elf ears and hand to the nearest Pearson.

@ineffable@Alisdragon911@Varicke
"Well what do you think of this?!" Lunaria turns to the shade behind her, eyebrow raised. "And don't you want to know why the tavern moves from place to place so easily?!" She turns to the annoyed looking girl. "Clay, you better answer me." She grabbed his muscled arm, nails digging into his skin.

@ineffable@Alisdragon911@Dark Light

Knutik blinked a couple times after being clearly pointed at. He quickly examined himself, his chest, his arms, he even spun around a few times trying to take a look at his back. 'Is there something on me? Did I break something again? Do I look too weird? Was she even talking about me!?' his thoughts raced for a moment before he paused to see the dangerous lady grab the tall man's arm demanding answers. The shadow creature brought his hands to his face, peeking between his claws. That seemed like such a terrible move, what on... wherever they are... was she thinking!? He wanted to hide but he wanted to watch, he knew he shouldn't stay but the energy of violence was so tempting. The shadows on his back practically bristled with tension. Maybe he should intervene? Say something? Anything? This woman is so determined to get answers, sometimes there's just things you shouldn't know. What if her questions get her in trouble? Does he even care?

@Dark Light @Pineappletumble @Song book @Snarfulblast
@Dannyrulx

As the final, chilling notes of the rhyme faded, the almost trance-like state that had held Hardwick captive abated and he was left once more at the bar, fully aware and filled with boundless terror - compounded by the fact that, try as he might, he could not recall ever having heard the song before, nor could he remember the lyrics that he had chanted mere moments before.

Back in his own time, on his own plane of existence, the soul-crushing weight of powerlessness and cosmic insignificance was something that he had slowly come to terms with. He had made it his mission to investigate the great and terrible Eldritch powers that lurked just beyond the human perception, and to prevent them at all costs from tearing reality asunder - or, at the very least, to delay the inevitable for as long as humanly possible.

But this... invasion... of his mind, of his free will, was a darkly sobering threat. He had heard the stories of the Witch-House, he had spoken to Dreamers and Sages of the unknown, he had seen those who gave up their souls in service of the Old Ones, yet he himself had taken every precaution to prevent himself from succumbing to the infinite darkness - his body still bore the scars of the hellish arcane rituals, the warding runes he had carved into himself during his sojourns into the darkest and most secretive places of the Massachusettsan countryside. And yet, all this preparation could not stand up to a little girl and her strange nursery rhymes.

A jarring scratching sound pulled Hardwick from the depths of his thoughts. Across the tavern, the soft glow of many candles began to flicker wildly as the shadows in the darker recesses of the room began to shift and darken. The other patrons looked around in mixed confusion and fear as the scratching grew louder still, until throughout the room all that could be heard was the almighty din of innumerable claws scraping on ageing timber.

Before he could process what was happening, the shadows began to coalesce; no longer two-dimensional impressions of the objects behind them but rather three dimensional, twisted impressions of the human form. They dragged themselves from the depths of the sinister darkness as if from a pool of liquid, globs of shadows falling from their straw bodies to splash upon the floor. Once again, that terrible feeling of knowing washed over Hardwick as the grotesque imitations drew themselves to their full height, worn leather heads and terrible false faces staring unblinkingly at the patrons.

The Straw Men had come to take what was theirs.

No longer dripping, but still very self-conscious in her half-dressed state, Niccola made her way towards the bar, eyes downcast and a furious blush on her cheeks. She is vaguely aware of the many goings on around her; other patrons seem very engrossed in their conversations, some very serious. There is not as much frivolity as she normally expected at taverns, but then the whole situation was unexpected at best. Unceremoniously, she plunked her skinny self down on a stool. Raising one finger, she cleared her throat slightly and sought to catch the eye of the barkeep.

The urgent need for intoxication left her though, as the noises in the tavern registered. Slowly she turns in her seat and glances around. Clearly something is happening, though she in unsure exactly of what. As the shadows begin to change, Niccola can only goggle. This whole series of events has become too much for her to rationally process and instead she simply decides to withhold judgement until later. Once that conclusion is reached, she inhales and then a soft sigh escapes her thin lips in the form of a thick Irish brogue, "Oh, hell"