[hr][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjk2LmRkYTBkZC5VbUZ1YzI5dElFeGhZbVZzYkdVLC4y/golden-jewelry.regular.webp[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/HvlcxJd.pngp[/img][/center][right][code] The Waystone Inn
Interactions:  Kel [@NoriWasHere] Cali [@Fernstone]
Outfit: In need of a rinse[/code][/right][hr]

Ransom’s smile held strong as Cali poked holes through his threadbare story. He was far too full of himself to realize that his ruse wasn’t as clever as it had seemed in his head. His pride actively dodged and parried the evidence of Cali seeing through his deception. No, the reason that Cali hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to be “saved” was as obvious to him as the horns on the hellion’s head. At least it was until she pulled out a symbol of Mielikki. His smile thinned. Discrimination indeed. So if it were not his radiant and splendid divinity that gave her pause, then what in the Nine Hells was it?  

[color=B21A4D]”You think I want a [i]foursome[/i]? With [i]you[/i], and her, and–”[/color] So on. Only, Ransom heard, [color=B21A4D]”You think I want a [i]foursome[/i]? With you and [i]her[/i]...”[/color]

Ah. Of course. Now it made sense. Good, now he wouldn’t have to riff about the wood market with some jackass treehugger who worshipped at its altar. Ransom chuckled alongside her wicked cackle. Hilarious and depraved maybe, but not expliciting disinteresting. They just needed to find a more palatable third and fourth. He gave an unapologetic half-shrug and gestured towards Kel.

[color=plum]“Good lord, she’s drunk, not deaf,”[/color] said Ransom, trying to pretend that he wasn’t relieved as he stifled his laughter. He turned towards Kel. [color=plum]“Don’t listen to her, honey. Some people are just more superficial than others. I’m sure you have a great personality, and maybe in the right light you…”[/color]

What was up with her face? 

[color=plum]”You look [i]aw[b]FUCK![/b][/i]”[/color]

Ransom had already started to spin with a sudden swiftness as he recognized the look for what it was. He twisted away with grace and brandished his cloak like a protective shield to deflect the blow. Unfortunately, his guard was high while Kel’s assault went low. His senses were overwhelmed in a flash: deafened by a loud retch that could’ve silenced the bar, poisoned by a foul stench of sulfur and spirits, and paralyzed by the sensation of something warm splattering on his pant leg and slipping down the inside of his boots. For a brief moment the man appeared petrified, frozen by his inability to comprehend what had just occurred.

[color=D87093]“…I think…”[/color] He didn’t. Ransom, with a look of murderous intent on his face, flashed forward like a sword being drawn from its sheath, gliding through the pool of sick as he grabbed at Kel's collar with a dizzying speed. [color=D87093]"I got some on you.  Sorry.”[/color]

Sorry? Sorry? She was sorry? He ground his teeth together. She fucking would be. He’d see to that. She’d be sorry for the rest of her miserable dumb life, what precious moments she had left in it. 

[color=plum]“[b]YOU THINK THAT[/b]–”[/color]

Ransom cut himself off, the heat in his words dying as he glanced towards Cali. What would a priest of Lathander do? Roll over like some little bitch. The fire in his eyes dimmed. He held up a finger to ease the tensions and gave a reassuring pat to Kel’s shoulder, smoothing out any fabric hi roughness might've wrinkled. He tried to stomach the stench and forced a smile back on his face. He shifted to stand by her side in support, or rather in case there was a second volley. He was supposed to be the guy who walked with the downtrodden and the damned. A bit of bile probably paled in comparison to the stinky filthpile of shit that a true shepherd of Lathander regularly trudged though. 

[color=plum]“You think that an accident would upset me, child? It’s the bar staff that should be your concern. I imagine they’re gearing up to throw you out in the cold, assuming they don’t decide to use you as the mop first,”[/color] said Ransom, calmly but certainly not kindly. 

[color=plum]“Somebody should walk you home. For your own safety,”[/color] cooed Ransom as he motioned towards the door. He watched Cali from the corner of his eye, making sure that she witnessed his piety. [color=plum]“Yes, that’s right, for safety. Wouldn’t want you to be found dead in the street come tomorrow morn, drowned in your own toxic brew would we? Pink is better suited for you than purple. Come come, let’s take care of you.”[/color]