POOHEAD189

The Blackwood

@Tortoise@Fetzen
How would you two like starting out together?

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal watched her carefully. Truthfully, he loved watching her speak, his ears picking up every word. He grinned when she stated she wasn't important enough to have enemies. Amal had around a dozen powerful and personal enemies, and he was the most worthless man in Al-Hiekk, at least according to anyone who asked, particularly those that wanted him dead. Street Rat they called him. Not that he minded. It suited him nicely.

"I envy you." He said. "At least a little. If I found my mother again...I'm not sure what I would do, to her or to me. But your parents did try to sell you, as she sold me. I guess neither of us were wanted." The thief placed a hand on her cheek, the callused hand suitably soft for the moment.

At the mention of the Witch Hunters and her wizard mentor, he blinked as if awoken. She would see the excited glint in his eye, betraying his thoughts. This was the stuff of tales he heard of the North! Grim warriors and witches burnt at the stake as charlatans spat out useless doctrine to keep the peasants in line. True, it wasn't exactly cheery. But it did lead to opportunities of fabulous wealth if one played their cards right. Dystopian or corrupt governments always bred such occasions. An Arabyan would certainly know.

"Why not get you accredited then?" He said, his hand leaving her face only to intertwine within her fingers, his large palm overtaking hers easily. "I'm sure we could gain some leverage over your old master to get him to agree. A sniffing Witch Hunter maybe?" He grinned evilly and leaned in to kiss her again before there was a small rolling tumble of a noise. It was good he was such an experienced scoundrel, else he would have caught what was about to fall atop Emmaline.

Her snake familiar had decided to heat up in the cold northern night, seeking a source of heat. Rather than slithering over to the fire, it wished to be closer to its master and managed to sinuously make its way atop the timber-made dresser. In it's slitherings, the candle it wished to curl beside was bumped and fell. Amal caught it just before it bopped Emmaline on the head or set her locks on fire. The serpent perked its head up, and looked rather embarrassed without changing expressions.

Amal's hand was callused, but he still felt the candle wax. He swiftly blew it out and redirected its fall to the side, to land holder up atop the table, as if it was set there gently save for the few hard wobbles. Amal was fond of the familiar, but he couldn't quite hold himself back.

"Hey!" He said, blowing his stinging hand. "You sneaky little trouser snake! I know she's hot as a sun-baked dune but that's a little much." Amal made a gesture of shaking his fist, but found the humor in the situation after a second. He whispered to Emmaline with a clear intent to jest. "I think he's jealous of me. He's seen you charm my snake and can't handle it. Soon he'll be out of work on the street, shaking what Allah gave him."

The thief actually halted and put a finger on his chin. "He would make a good rat catcher, now that I think of it." The serpent had not been idle, taking the time to reach the couch from above, now perched atop the arm handle as its tail slowly followed. It seemed content to rest there, though it watched them curiously.

"I'm kidding, my friend." He said to her familiar, smirking. "But we both know the deal. She's yours in the daytime but mine at night. We shook hands on it, remember?"
@Penny

The Blackwood

The comely blonde elf grinned like the cat that got the cream, weighing the bag of coins in her hands as if she could verify the mint, number, and quality of the payment with such a rudimentary examination. She slid the coinpurse into her small knapsack as the gnome made grabby hands at it, and oggled her chest while he was at it. She shot her eyes back at him as if she expected such underhanded tactics and raised her fist, and he leaped back.

The small quarrel might have seemed violent, but Cillian would get the impression they were old friends. The two blinked and turned to him just as he spoke. Both seemed to take in the sight and manner of him curiously, but after a moment's thought the elf stood up. "I was just leaving." She remarked curtly, yet in a smooth style. She seemed like she could chameleon her way through many things.

"Hold! Hold on Saskia." The gnome said, grabbing onto her arm. "Stay a bit. It's not everyday we get to meet a newcomer to the town."

"Yes it literally is." She said, but the Gnome gave her a look and she sighed, plopping back down onto the booth again. "Forgive me for wishing to spend my hard earned cash when I get it. I do have bills to pay, don't I?"

"Perhaps you can make more money here, ay?" Her diminutive companion remarked. "...By the way you owe me my cut. ANYWAY, you were not intruding friend, we were simply doing business with an associate of ours."

The elf grinned, turning to Cillian. "Yes we were. My sidekick Calvin-" the Gnome looked taken aback. "-is right, I would like to get to know you a bit. A traveling bard often has wondrous tales. Do you have a tale to tell, or need a tale to be told? I can always use information, or sell my own."

Meanwhile, the Dwarf had taken his leave from the Iron Star as Sylvaine got to their old table. Sylvaine would get the impression the elf knew exactly she was sitting there, even without so much as a glance in her direction.
@Romero@Duck

Describe the person above you in three words or less.

Been here longer?

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal nodded, his chin resting on her shoulder. The dangerous thief took another long gulp of whiskey before gasping satisfactorily a setting the cup down, the movement would have slid her off his lap had his other arm not held fast to her waist. "You're right, as always." He admitted. He wouldn't have lived long in Araby had he not a meticulous and cunning mind, but there was something about being outside of Araby that made him want to take some risks. Not that he was adverse to taking risks in general, thrilling him as it often did. "We'll probably be able to relax more when we reach Marienberg or whatever city lies further south. As strange as it is, we've been here a day and I'm already tired of it."

Not tired of the Empire, at least. He wished to explore more, and truth be told he liked seeing Emmaline in her element. She had always been so smooth or agile in elements where she was on off footing (albeit clumsily at times), watching her work here was interesting. "Not tired of this room, though." He admitted in Arabyan, turning her head to kiss her for a moment. "I guess in the morning we'll need to pack our things just in case. Wherever we go next, I'm sure there will be less to worry about."

He scooped her up from her legs and bottom, pulling her closer. He spoke again in his native tongue. "And if anyone tries to ruin what I have just said, I will kill them and bury there where even Settra may never find them. That is a promise, my desert flower."

As he looked at her, a thought crossed his mind. "Em, where did you live in this northern Empire? There are...proninces?" He said, failing at the word in Riekspiel. "Do you have family anywhere...or enemies? I know all about you but only a bit about how you grew up."

He did recall some anecdotes about a wizard teaching her a few things, and being lecherous towards her until she grew weary of him. But that was it. Amal wondered if he was going to be a problem.
@Penny

The Blackwood

@Tortoise By the end of the week, I'll put you in the game.

The Blackwood

Po gave her a smile in return and held out his hand to shake. If she took it she would feel his hand was strong and callused from some sort of labor. "If Ithaca vouches for you, you're more than welcome honestly. Besides, you have the look of someone who's done their share of traveling. Let me-" Po got up and turned, gnabbing a loose chair from out of the crowd that Mari wouldn't have noticed before from another table.

As he did, Phyrrae sipped her drink languidly. Orek's smile spread at Mari, revealing two golden teeth. "Don't be nervous. We're no' what you might call a daring group of adventurers. Ye'll do just fine."

Phyrrae nearly jumped when Po pointed at Orek, his finger thrusting past her face. "Oh, come on! Mari, this dwarf is the most famous adventurer within four hundred miles. Probably further." Po looked like he was a huge fanboy at that moment, suddenly giving off an air of a wide eyed boy rather than the rakish man he might look when you only get a glimpse of him. For his part, the Dwarf just waved him off, spouting off some small excuse as to why that was just youthful blathering. Ithaca leaned over Mari's shoulder.

"It's true, that Dwarf has been to twice as many places as me in the Blackwood, and we've been here around the same time. Don't let him downplay it."

"If no one will speak of where we are going, then I will!" Boomed Kane. Phyrrae, who was attempting to sip her drink for a third time, flinched and the alcohol sloshed off onto the table. Her eyes flared and shot at Kane, but the Drogotar was already too far into beginning what they came to speak about. "Orek here has told us that he may have found the Forge of Gandelyn the Smith, who wrought the Seven Runic Rings! This is an endeavor worthy of remembrance!"

Po had placed his hands over his ears. It was true the tavern was loud, but being so close to a humanoid so large, it could reverberate one's eardrums quite easily. "Yeah..." He remarked, lowering his hands and blinking. "If even one of those rings is there, it could be significant in over a dozen ways."
@Luminosity

Describe the person above you in three words or less.

Quite a dance

Describe the person above you in three words or less.

Very friend shaped

uh hi

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