The brith had attempted to to keep her eyes down, wanting nothing more to not draw attention to herself just as the Wolframs would have desired. However, when another imposing man had seated himself at the table, Kjellfrid could not help but look up to inspect the stranger. It was a grave mistake as she had immediately seen the head of one of her kind draped on his shoulder, terror had immediately consumed her mind. Her claws felt glued to the table, the lines of her previous digging into the wood being visible as she just stared at the man with large and terrified eyes. 

She hardly understood him, not because of any language barrier, but due to her ears being unable to hear anything other than the pounding of her heart and the worry of her mind. Kjellfrid’s head snapped to the side when the tiefling spoke, again almost unable to understand him because of her unableness to focus on anything other than her terror. However, a flash of slow green movement caught her attention her eyes once more shifting to see a female orc moving behind the brith-pelted one. While there was no outward hostilities being displayed, the orcish tongue was enough to make the brith trip over herself and fall out of her seat, the chair coming down with her as she scrambled along her back.

It took a moment, but eventually she made her way to her feet and pushed through the crowded tavern to try and escape her fears. Her form bumping into people as she eventually made her way to a quieter area, not fully secluded due to the business of both port and tavern, but enough to allow her curl up against a wall without too many eyes. 

Annabella watched as the brith made her hasty and rather ungraceful escape with concern. She was prepared for scorn and vitriol from one of her kind, but not fear. The idea that seeing a brith skull adorning a man’s shoulder causing distress never even entered her mind. In any case, there was no question about what to do next. The orc bowed slightly at the remaining party members. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too terribly offended by her leaving suddenly after just having introduced herself. 

[color=fff79a]“Excuse me for a moment.”[/color]

While Kjellfrid had needed to push and shove through the crowd, the other patrons more or less parted around Annabella’s broad frame as she made her way toward the frightened woman. A hand that might’ve lost a fight with a bramble bush a long time ago settled on her shoulder with surprising tenderness. Though, the brith seemed to still tense up at the gesture.

[color=fff79a]“What troubles you?”[/color]

Kjellfrid looked upon Annabella with still terrified eyes, her form attempting to back away into a wall that remained unmoving despite the brith’s terror. In a hurried breath, she responded.

[color=red]”I do not want t-trouble, orc.”[/color]

Her eyes went away from the Annabella, no longer wishing to gaze upon a source of her current terror as she felt her heart wanting to escape her chest as her breathing maintained it’s quickened pace.

The orc gave a welcoming and hopefully reassuring smile. This one was frail both inside and out. Perhaps she was a magic user like the scarred human? Annabella could only hope for her sake. The weak rarely have a joyous life, much less a long one.


[color=fff79a]”And yet you already have it here.”[/color] She tapped the brith’s temple with her finger. [color=fff79a]”Come, grasha and sit at the table. One branch snaps easily, but many together are like steel. Drink, eat, and be merry.”[/color]


She gestured at the gathered party of who she assumed to be the brith’s friends. Perhaps allies. She would take acquaintances at the very least. Kjellfrid’s eyes remained fixated on the floor as she curled herself further into a ball, the words of the orc not finding ground within her mind. The brith could not afford a glance to the table, especially with the one wearing one of her kind. 

[color=red]”N-no. I c-can’t,” she spoke, shifting her form along the wall and away from the persistent orc.[/color]

She made no move to restrain Kjellfrid and took a step back. No use in pushing the issue further A horse cannot be made to drink after all. Still, Annabella felt a twinge of pity for her.


[color=fff79a]”Then don’t. If you change your mind, I’ll be with your compatriots.”[/color]


With that she waded back through the crowd toward the gathered party and put on her best smile. She could only hope the rest would not flee in terror from the very sight of her. Though she doubted that would be the case. The rest appeared to be made of sterner stuff.

[color=fff79a]”I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but your friend seemed, as you say, [i]distressed[/i]. Is there still room at your table for one more?”[/color]

Sigemund had let the orc’s question hang in the air a moment. Long enough for her to leave and return. While the brith was panicking, a healthy reaction to his favorite cloak, and this Annabella creature was tending to it, he took stock of the tiefling. It was intimidating. Perhaps smaller than the one that had wounded his father, but not necessarily weaker. He had strangled several brith larger than him. [i]Do those horns break with steel or bind with it?[/i] He could not recall. He’d have to take the skull down from above his bed in Dreamer’s Draugr and test it with Hrunting later. For now there was a pressing matter in this very alive tiefling being here, among these folk. [i]Can they truly see through illusions?[/i] Again he could not recall. Every piece of folklore and old wive’s tale and fact and fiction was blurring together in his mind as he considered this threat. He chose to distract himself for a moment, watching the elf across the way receive comfort.

“[color=00aeef]An orc is a good warrior, is it not? That is what you greenfolks are yes? Warriors are surely welcome given our little collection of imps. The brith seems perhaps unsettled and the goat seems to have taken offense to my taking offense at her presence. So join us, Annabella.[/color]”

Then he looked at the brith against the wall. What a strange mutation of their folk. He considered for the first time how he might react were he to see a man cloaked around an enemy’s frame. He decided eventually that he wouldn’t react. Still, he set his right hand on his pommel and his left flat on the table. 

“[color=00aeef]My name is Elric Farmoon. My ears are clipped short, can you not see? I am an elf. As an elf I do as I ought, and as I ought is to insult a brith and call on your physiognomy with lordship. The latter is a kindness.[/color]”

Annabella was visibly puzzled by his declaration but sat down in Kjellfrid’s now empty seat anyway. What a strange man. Then again, most men of the frost lands were strange from what she knew. It dawned on her that he was likely making a joke and she laughed a deep resonating laugh. She slapped the table once with a powerful arm, making it shudder just slightly.


[color=fff79a]”And I am a very tall dwarf! Your jokes are appreciated. Many of the sort you and I belong to avoid humor as though it burns them.”[/color]

Her smile softened toward genuine gratitude as she repositioned herself in her chair to get more comfortable.


[color=fff79a]”Regardless, I thank you for the invitation.”[/color]

[color=39b54a]”Likewise. Although I cannot claim to be joking type.”[/color]

The mage had quietly crept up to the side of them as the others had been focused upon the flight of the Brith and the comings and goings of the Orc. His face was blank, inscrutable. His green eyes roamed over the three faces at the table, the Orc, the Not-Elf, and lastly the Tiefling. A single pale finger scratched at the edge of the horrid scar on his left cheek.

[color=39b54a]”I presume you called me over for a reason. Since I do not see Tali Riverend here, perhaps one of you can tell me where to find her. If you would be so kind.”[/color]


If one had wanted to find a definition for the term of 'steady decline', just looking at Vekyzz's face might have been a good source for it. The Tiefling was anything but amused as events had unfolded pretty much in the way predicted. Well, at least a part of him was able to understand the Brith's feelings. Seeing one's own kind being degraded into a mere piece of more or less cruel decoration was something he'd find very hard to accept either. Ironically though it seemed that the very latest addition to their party, the proud orc woman named Annabella, was of the much more reasonable kind -- assuming that she had not thrown a bunch of insults at Kjellfrid while talking with her in the distance. The parchment had not mentioned an orc, but she had demonstrated knowledge that she could only have obtained from Riverend herself.

Anyway, Vekyzz started to hope that she would be one of the lesser problems of this endeavor. The obvious number one of those was sitting right in front of him, claiming to be an elf and definitely eager to demonstrate his destructiveness. However before Vekyzz could address him the other elf he had called over previously finally showed up. 

[color=ff9900]"We are all waiting for Tali Riverend, but I have been instructed and authorized to assume leadership in case she's unavailable. Feel free to sit down as we probably will not leave right away."[/color] The mage took up an empty seat.Then the tiefling's gaze turned towards Sigemund, his voice still more of a whisper instead of a roar.

 [color=ff9900]"Goat knows how to handle [i]Sand Wraith[/i]. Goat will make one of them eat oversized elf when we enter goat-land. Goat is wondering if oversized elf's ears were clipped because clipped away pieces were the most valuable things of oversized elf's body. Goat has adjusted his language so oversized elf can understand goat more easily. Goat is pissed off by oversized elf's behavior."[/color]

A smirk made a brief appearance on the tiefling's face.

[color=ff9900]"Alright... and now much more seriously: I have to lead all of you through this and this won't work if we start hating each other right away. I can't force you to comply, but I strongly recommend that everybody shoves all of his habitual slurs up his ass in one go for the sake of efficiency, if not even survival. The better we work together the sooner we'll be over this and, just as a bit of additional motivation, I don't care what anyone of you does afterwards."[/color]

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[center][hider=][youtube]https://youtu.be/2rjHbb8F6Io[/youtube][/hider][/center]
As the teifling settled those at the table, [url=https://youtu.be/2rjHbb8F6Io]a smooth and gentle sound[/url] began to ebb over the tavern as a flute made its way through the crowds, calming those within earshot. A simple head turn would be all that it would take to see the form of Kjellfrid playing a dimly lit flute that gave off a ghostly aura. As she moved her head, wispy trails flowed off of the ghostly flute, and the calm seemingly coming too naturally. Her normally solemn eyes were closed, concentrating on trying to get the flute to play to its full effectiveness, though something prevented her.

However, that did not stop the Brith as the solemn sound soothes the surrounding souls from the wears travels and crowded spaces, though the song was ultimately meant for herself. As she opened her eyes, though, she did notice that many eyes had turned to her, staring at her as the music slowly died away until the silent hum of the flutes form disappeared. Kjellfrid hid the last remaining bit of the flute on her person before she got to her feet and dusted off her dress. Her head kept down as she walked to the table of the strange party, not making eye contact with any who looked to her. 

[color=red]”I am sorry for my disruption, I will try t’ keep my fears to herself,”[/color] Kjellfrid said curtly in a line clearly said more times than the poor soul could count.
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[center][i]A post by [@Lauder], [@Jarl Coolgruuf], [@Parzivol], [@Kassarock], and [@Fetzen][/i][/center]