[b][u]Evelyn Keove[/u][/b]

Caught up in the music from the live band playing to her left, Evelyn's thoughts drifted away from the tavern. For a strange moment, she contemplated the vast distance she was from her Elven home. It wasn't something she often thought of as magic brought a lack of interest in almost everything but her relic questing. But it hung at the back of her mind like a teething memory, chewing at her. Debating the 'why' was quickly dispelled as she was interrupted. 

[i]"Pleasant evening miss. I do not believe we have crossed paths before."[/i]

Evelyn heard the stranger coming up the stairs before she glanced up. People often didn't impress her, but she found herself quite curious when a dark-cloaked figure joined her on the second floor. He looked nothing like the common rabble of Bastille, holding himself with a traveller's care. His eyes caught her off guard most, she swore they were hiding something marvelous. With a smile she replied, [b]"No. No, I don't believe we have."[/b]

Taking her glass off the wood railing, the elf stole a sip before continuing. [b]"My name is Evelyn Keove, a wood elf from the ancestral forests of Althaes. I'd tell you why I'm here but," [/b]She gestured to the floor below them, [b]"I have a feeling everyone's been reading the new posters. I'm an adventurer looking for some hired help."[/b]

She chuckled, waving her hand in a joking manner. [b]"Oh, but how rude of you, you didn't introduce yourself. What's a shadowy traveller like you doing at the cross roads of Ravenfell?"[/b]

[b][u]Mattien Arior[/u][/b]

Argorn's obscene snoring on the collapsed tables got him a swift boot out of the Inn, and there he would remain passed out in the street until morning. Mattien debated pulling the drunk's pants down on his way out, but thought better of it. All the tavern regulars knew Argorn was just a sour idiot, he was harassed enough for that.

Standing in front one of the Battle Mage's posters again, Mattien re-read it, frowned, and tore it off the wood pillar. The poster folded and tucked nicely into his belt pocket. After a few weeks off the road he was itching for action and coins; this would be the perfect opportunity for him. He'd blow the competition away too, ensuring there would be more gold for himself. He heard of kings paying outrageous sums for old swords with a proven link to their lineage. It sounded like easy money if one could defend themselves like he could. Dungeons were no match for him and Ra-Shin's bloodlust. And with his skill, he was very assured of his spot beside the Mage. 

Imagining his pockets overflowing with gold coins, Mattien chugged back one last mug of ale, slamming the cup on the counter. His speech was slightly slurred as he tossed a coin by his mug. [b]"This Battle Mage is gonna make me a rich Breton, just you watch!"[/b]

With that drunk statement he staggered down the hall to his rented room on the first floor, closing the door. The bed heaved under his weight as he collapsed on top, quickly passing out.