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Kav and Knog made their way down the sidewalk, Knog was clearly inebriated and was attempting to cling to the younger man for support. Though Kav was clearly having none of it and continued to push his drunken companion off.

“So, tell me again, why did you have your driver park a so far away from our actual destination…y-your Dukeness? I might have just remembered I am in no state to walk… or is it gallop…or perhaps it is prance? On account of the hooves I am always at a loss on what to call the act of forward motion… I deduce that one of us might have drunken too much Gorgon Wine on the drive over. Hint, it was…probably…me? You know that reminds me…” Knog preceded to trail off on an unrelated tangent that became more indecipherable the longer it went on for.

Kav rubbed his temples in annoyance, he just did not have the patience to justify his decision to the old goat for a third time. In hindsight he probably should have not let the Satyr cap that bottle of Gorgon Wine, but it was not his place to police other’s vices and he had a feeling that his acquaintance was not as drunk as he was acting at the moment. Knog was a habitual line-stepper by nature and was always found of pushing other’s proverbial buttons for his own amusement; Knog always seemed to miraculously sober-up should the situation require it no matter how much liquor he was seen consuming prior. 

Kav was snapped from his current train of thought as he suddenly had the weirdest feeling that they were being observed; however, each time he looked behind him there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of nothing he finally caught a glimpse of an unusual character to say the least. As he was preoccupied with attempting to catch a glimpse of their mystery stalker, Knog managed to collide with an older gentleman of rather large proportions who suddenly emerged from an alleyway. Kav shot an annoyed glance at Knog who seemed to have knocked himself out cold before offering a hand to the downed man. The older man seemed non-perturbed by the collision and graciously accepted Kav’s help getting back to his feet; the large man let out a rather hearty laugh at the mishap as he attempted to wipe spilled coffee off his rather tacky sweater and bushy grey beard before grabbing a tattered brown flat cap off the ground. Kav thought the oaf should have left it there with the other pieces of refuse that littered the ground. 

“My wife is always chiding me about my clumsy behavior is bound to hurt someone and it seems like I finally plum did it this time. I hope your friend is going to be okay their sonny.” The man said as he let out a sheepish chuckle.

[color=f08080] “I would not exactly call us friends, but I suppose I owe you some gratitude for relieving me of this nuisance for the time being. This city certainly attracts a certain breed of people.” [/color] Kav says as he crosses his arms.

“You don’t say partner. Well, my name is Jim Hughes and it is certainly a pleasure to run into someone with a head on their shoulders around these parts” The rosy cheeked man extends his large hand and Kav reluctantly shakes it, his need for flattery outweighing any weird vibes this large man was emanating; though something definitely felt off about the name he provided.  

[color=f08080] “Charming. You can call me Kav, no doubt you heard of me?” [/color] Kav, says clearly using his supernatural looks to fish for more compliments from this yokel. 

“No…wait aren’t you famous on the interwebs? Right my grandchildren watch you on the Facetube.  Only really famous people can afford to have one name. Like Prince and yourself of course. I would hate to ask for a slight favor from a bonified celebrity, but me and my friends being tourists here are scouting for local hotspots. One of my friends last in pinged in this general vicinity but hasn’t checked in with the rest of the group in a good minute and I was wondering if one as well-connected as yourself knew of any places in this area where one might slink away to. Wink Wink.”

Kav was barely paying attention to the old man outside of the interspersed compliments as he inspected his nails for any potential damage. 
[color=f08080] “You know what, I might know of a place. My…the guy whom you seemed to have knocked unconscious recommended some dive bar around here. I usually do not do this Jimbo, but I suppose escorting one as fashionably challenged as yourself to their probably equally unfashionable friend would count as my good deed of the year.”[/color]

“I really do appreciate it that you would stoop so low to help one as undeserving as me. However, what about your uh…nuisance?”  

Kav once again glares at Knog and simply shrugged in indifference. [color=f08080] “Leave him, I doubt he is unaccustomed to waking up in close proximity to sketchy alleys after a bender. Speaking of which, one as clearly helpless as yourself should not make it a habit of traversing down alleyways alone lest you be murdered or something”[/color]

Jim lets out another hearty laugh that lasts for an uncomfortable amount of time as the duo depart down the sidewalk. Much to Kav’s annoyance the walk was to Saints and Sinners was not one taken in contemplative silence; the fat moron would not shut up about what great service he got at a local coffee shop earlier in the day. Jim just kept bring up how great his waitress was like he was trying to infer something more than a routine interaction happened between them like it was supposed to impress Kav or something; it was more pathetic than anything. He could not help, but to roll his eyes at multiple points during Jim’s recollection of prior events. He could not believe he traded Knog for this bumbling ingrate. 

Eventually the duo made it to Saints and Sinners, but like the filthy tourist he claimed to be Jim was occupied taking photos of the outside of the bar and the alleyway with his flip phone and sending them to his “friends” or whatever. Kav decided to wait on the bloated geezer to enter the bar first as he did not want the rather drab man to cramp his unique sense of style, but Jim never entered the bar he instead received a text message and walked out of the alleyway without saying a word. 

Kav entered the establishment more confused than when he initially set off on this journey.

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Despite forces beyond his control willing him to focus on other matters Vanja managed to mull over Chasa’s response. He was not surprised that she had some autonomy, but the degree of independence demonstrated piqued his interest; perhaps, she was not a mere thrall after all.  “My My, It speaks through its own volition. I must say that I never believed myself to possess the power to cause mountains or their facsimiles to respond to my inquiries, but today has certainly been chalk full of surprises don’t you think. Thank you for indulging me with your impromptu morality lesson creature, learning the depths of your self-delusion been most enlightening to say the least.  Allow me the privilege to retor…”

Vanja’s monologue was preemptively cut short by the forceful introduction of Simon’s barbed baton; sharp, splintering pains indicative of cracking ribs followed each successive blow. Vanja doubled over in anguish. It was a small miracle that none of the cracked ribs broke off and punctured his lungs or another vital organ, though at the moment the severity of the pain eclipsed any benefits of not succumbing to death; the severity of the spikes was somewhat negated by the fact that Vanja was still clad in his suit and accompanying layers, which at least provided some small modicum of protection though they were still painful.  Unlike other broken bones the agony of cracked ribs is prolonged as the rib cage moves with every breath one takes, the very act of living…of holding only extended the torture further; Vanja normally enjoyed would have enjoyed the irony had it not been inflicted on himself. Once again everything seemed to boil down to a matter of perspective. He was acutely aware of the all too familiar sensation of aches and pains that coursed through his body at the moment. Everything seemed to hurt and it felt like a herculean task to even consider rising from his current position splayed out on the floor, but Vanja managed to muster his remaining energy to rise to his knees; he seemed to avoid succumbing to his building injuries out of purely out of spite at this point.

[color=F0E68C]“From one professional craftsmen to another…breaking my ribs without killing me is a nice touch. Always good to show utter contempt for your victim,” [/color] Vanja manages to wheeze before listening to Simon’s proposition.  Vanja wills himself to coherently respond without too much coughing.
 
[color=F0E68C]“Tsk Tsk. And here I thought that you could read my mind, yet though you have seen through my guise it appears that my true name eludes you. Seems like we are playing Quid Pro Quo yet again. I for one thought that ‘Josip Dragnov’ was a name that complimented my appearance for once. I have a whole laundry list of nom de guerre that are stamped on a plethora of passports ‘Boris Bukhalov’, ‘Lavrentiy Malenkov’, ‘Maximilian Tinchev’, and so on; like with my suits I find it refreshing to change my identity frequently.  But, I will hazard to guess that none of those manufactured identities do it for you. No, much like Her I posit that you can innately tell when someone is being deceptive. That particular specter from my past continues to dog me even now.” [/color]

Vanja feels a well of emotions surge up inside himself and he repeatedly punches the ground in anger. 

[color=F0E68C] “Damnit, t-this can’t be my only option. Urgh. T-this can’t be. I-I have been made a fool of by these utter…-and I frankly refuse to believe that this is the way to ach…All those years… were for what? This cannot be h-happening.” [/color] He growls in a moment of frustration before composing himself. 

[color=F0E68C] “Fine, despite every fiber of my being and my years of experience in the field telling me not to, I will concede to your demand creature. Like I did once many years ago I will willingly give one dominion over my true name. I am Vanja Janković, son of Gersim Janković a humble matchstick maker from the village of Dolac.” [/color]