➶ quest

['pyrrhic]

Mira Amara ;; forty + years ;;
rouge dagger wielder / poisons ;; elven female
with;; The Party, Ester ;; xxx ;; xxx

Mira had surprisingly stayed quiet through everything, and she just sipped her drink. The amount she'd had so far was child's play compared to anything
else she could've consumed. Her small figure still stood up straight and her legs crossed under the table, her curly hair falling into her face in a playful
manner. It didn't really bother her what Fabian was trying to do, but it annoyed her a little how empty her cup looked. The things around them made
her listen to the conversations of slurred words and long run on sentences. "I've given up on asking who you all are," Mira said proudly and rolled
her eyes, drinking slowly in sips.

She was no where close to drunk, as Alyce seemed to be. If she didn't want to get out of town on an adventure, she would've caused many things to happen.
Mira took a small vile from her belt and tipped the clear liquid up and down to watch it move fluidly. Not really wanting to answer any questions about it,
she kept her finger firmly on the top, so no liquid got out. "There's one for the sorrow, and two for the joy, and three for the girls and four for the boys.." Her voice was now melodic and very light, but it was quiet as well. The words were in 3/4 time, and were melodic, she was an elf, and worked for a while as a singer.

{ really, really writers block.

[Keriae]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ＦＡＢＩＡＮ ＳＨＡＲＰＥ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
❛''''ＡＮＤ Ｉ＇Ｍ ＮＯＴ ＢＡＣＫＩＮＧ ＤＯＷＮ
I WILL STAND MY GROUND! I WILL STAND MY GROUND!
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯

★x
★
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ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ
ａ ｃｈａｍｐｉｏｎ ｉｓ
WHAT THEY CALL ME NOW!

★
★
★

xxxxxxxage: twenty seven
xxxxxxxclass: warrior-knight
xxxxxxxtagged: party

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It seemed that they couldn't even get drunk in peace.

While putting up with Alyce and her drunken, annoyed glares was very satisfying and very amusing, it soon began to grow tiresome. Well, he'd be leaving soon, with his lovely companion, so he wouldn't have to put up with it for much longer. Until he returned, but Alyce could help herself to his leftovers if she wished. However, when he looked up from whispering more things in the wench's ear, a man had joined them. A man that he did not know, but Alyce clearly did.

His olive skin looked darker in the dim light, his hair the colour of pitch and his eyes shining. Fabian watched out of the corner of his eye, hands still on the woman in his lap and the now nearly empty wine bottle, and wrinkling his nose as Alyce's rambling. He was going to leave soon, so he didn't have to deal with any more chatter. Unfortunately for him, as the newcomer moved to sit down - everyone but Fabian had moved over a little bit to give him some room on their dingy little corner table - and he promptly fell over, right into the tavern maid's lap. Fabian's expression darkened, and then some more at the smile and wink. He wouldn't have someone trying to muscle in on his woman! Alyce was bad enough, but he could deal with her by simply ignoring her. A stranger, however.... especially a handsome stranger, he grudging admitted to himself.

As the man (Ester, Alyce had called him) stood up, he pulled the waitress with him and immediately started a conversation. The only good thing to come out of it for Fabian was the knowledge of his female companion's name.

"And what do you think you're doing?" He asked, voice notable cold. Tilting his head, the man finished the rest of his wine and stood up, forcing poor Elanna behind him as he drew himself up to this stranger. He wasn't quite as tall, short by a couple of inches, but he wasn't going to back down. It wasn't as though he was acting on a drunken impulse, either; Elanna had, quite obviously, been his target of "affection" and he wasn't going to stand for someone forcing their way between, but he was tired and moody from the forest and wanted to have a night of his own wishes, thank you very much.

[Wolvine]

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Ａｌｙｃｅ  Ｔｏｂｉａｓ  Ｖａｕｘ

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Ｈｕｍａｎ  Ｓｐｙ

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Ｗｉｔｈ：  ｔｈｅ  Ｐａｒｔｙ

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"Shrunk? Probably. Getting thrown in a dungeon for a few days tends to do that to you." She laughed at his response, shaking he head lightly. "The bigger picture. That's code for, 'they were much larger than I am and would have beaten me into a bloody pulp' right?You're honestly the worst assassin I've ever met."

Alyce couldn't quite suppress the grin as Ester tumbled into the tavern girl's, and by extension Fabian's, lap. The warrior looked ready to cut his head off there and then. Her smile only widened as Ester tugged the girl with him as he rolled over, and as Fabian grew even more livid. She couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming when the knight rose to his feet and offered the assassin a not-quite-but-almost threat. If she was really lucky, tonight would end in a brawl.

Of course, with her ribs, it was unlikely she'd actually be able to take part. The mage and the alcohol were working their magic, as she could hardly feel her hands at this point, never mind her chestpain, but if they were planning on moving out the next day, nobody would thank her for getting beaten into a bloody pulp. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't sit back and watch.

She leaned over to Elanna, making sure that Fabian would be able to hear, and drunkenly stage whispered, "Frankly, you'd be better off with D'Lancy. Good Ser Fabian here's only knows how to swing one sword." Far from her best work, but she was fairly drunk, and her tongue felt heavy and slurred in her mouth, being lulled to sleep by the ale. She had no doubt that if her assassin chum had been here more than a couple of hours, he'd have announced his orientation to everyone in the tavern, and the girl would be well aware. He had no subtlety over such things, and that was coming from the Queen of Blatancy herself. Still, it would egg on the fight that was already brewing. She sat back to watch, shooting Allya and Mira a somewhat apologetic glance. They hadn't come here for this. Allya in particular was bound to grow uncomfortable, but hey, better she knew now what she was potentially getting herself into.

ooc; ok apparently 'some day' is today but this is short and bad and not worth the wait. skip me if you need to keep the pace better, i dont mind, im not contributing much rn.

[Kitty~.]

e s t e r
role;; rogue assassin
race;; human
tagged;; the party,
and Mira
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Alyce was ever the ball of laughs. His lips quirked into a smirk at her rebuttal. "Hey now, words hurt, Alyce. Couldn't you have softened it? 'Oh Ester, you're the worst, but definitely the most dashing, assassin I've ever met'," he jibed.

Elanna was unlike Alyce - gentle, kind. Ester liked her. It proved to question why she was in the lap of someone who associated with with his favourite, but most mischievous friend. Alas, he wasn't about to judge her for it. To each their own as he liked to say. Plus, he was handsome, if you went for the 'I just came back from fighting a boar' look. Ester was personally more inclined to men who didn't grunt their way through a conversation. He looked like that type of bloke, with the whole rugged beard and wavy locks. Give him a sad backstory and you had your typical main protagonist. (Ester had always been a romantic and a book-lover.)

Startled from his stupor, Ester turned to our typical main protagonist as he almost spat at the blissful assassin. Could he not engage with a nice conversation with this lovely young lady? He smiled, almost goading. But no, Ester would never. He was a good little boy who did as he was told. Alas, he was highly amused by this. "I'm talking. Heard of it?" he rebutted languidly, wrapping an arm around Elanna's shoulders. The arm quickly dropped when Fabian got to his feet a little too quickly for someone who looked like he'd crawled out of Hell. Sure, Ester was taller but Fabian had the bulk. He couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. It might have just been him, but he didn't really feel like being punched by a fist like that. "Hey now, I'm a nice guy," he grinned, placing a tentative hand on Fabian's shoulder. "How about we just step back a bit, have a few drinks and - oh, speaking of which..." Hands quick and eyes alight, Ester gripped a mug passing by on a saucer and splashed it upon Fabian's face. He did look like he could cool down. The assassin shrugged in a rather unapologetic manner with a 'woops' and swiftly ducked behind an elven man, charming smile gracing his lips. Only, he was doing so to avoid any attacks that came from Fabian's direction. Call him a coward, but Ester really didn't want a black eye this early in the evening.

The brunette archer - Allya - widened her eyes with visible shock, eyebrows shooting very far up her forehead. Besides this, her expression remained mostly neutral, only the slight upturn of the corners of her lips betraying her amusement. Otherwise, she looked ready for action. And ready for action she should have been. Ester felt as though he should've been more prepared, but why waste time preparing when you could wing it?

[Keriae]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ＦＡＢＩＡＮ ＳＨＡＲＰＥ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
❛''''ＡＮＤ Ｉ＇Ｍ ＮＯＴ ＢＡＣＫＩＮＧ ＤＯＷＮ
I WILL STAND MY GROUND! I WILL STAND MY GROUND!
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯

★x
★
★

ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ
ａ ｃｈａｍｐｉｏｎ ｉｓ
WHAT THEY CALL ME NOW!

★
★
★

xxxxxxxage: twenty seven
xxxxxxxclass: warrior-knight
xxxxxxxtagged: everyone

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"I'm talking," the man had said in a nonchalant manner. "I'm talking," he'd said, wrapping his arms around the pretty woman's shoulders. Fabian had always been possessive of his things. Materialistic, he preferred to put it. As far as the man he worked for knew, he was just a man who had had no choice but to resort to the worst of means in order to survive, and he had been saved from the dark and was now walking in the light. Ha! Fabian's true calling had always been the darker side, stealing purses, breaking into houses, stabbing people in alleys for nothing more than getting in his way. He had so much blood on his hands he was surprised that he'd been offered "redemption" instead of a noose around his neck. And just because he had money coming in from a good source didn't mean he wasn't going to get money in any other way. Just as long as it was kept under wraps, nothing mattered. Fabian liked to walk in the more dangerous side of life, on a knife edge, and a wrong step could send him falling to his doom. There was a breathless thrill in it. It was adrenaline constantly in his veins.

Like right now, actually. Ester had dropped his hand from Elanna just as Fabian forced her behind him, squaring up with a look on his face that told of all the things, all the pain, he wanted to cause this man. He was drunk on the power he held over him, watching him wilt a little just from him getting to his feet. That was probably helped by how his fists curled at his sides, knuckles white as he (barely) refrained from delivering a punch right in the middle of the pretty boy's face. Of course, Alyce took that chance to very obviously say just what she thought of his certain skills. "It just so happens that it's the one that matters," he shot right back, not turning his head from Ester, so he could continue with his death stare. People were watching all around them, but who cared? The night needed something to liven it up.

As it was, Ester got there before Fabian. Some poor soul had taken the quiet and still to slip behind him, and the tankard of piss-poor ale was promptly thrown in his face. It dripped from his hair, from his nose, from his beard, it soaked his shirt, but it certainly didn't cool him down. In fact, it only make the fire in his body burn brighter. If his poor mother had been there she'd have fainted at the words that came from his mouth, full of rage. Well, alcohol did bring out the better side in him.

The elven man Ester was hiding behind didn't even think about anything else other than running when he saw Fabian coming towards him, all charging bull in a china shop. He didn't even think about using his weapons; instead, he relied on his fists. There were some other people that got in the way - something about not hitting the bloke, but he'd brought this on himself - and within moments people were fighting everywhere. Somehow Fabian ended up with the leg of a broken stool in his hand, and was advancing on Ester.

[Kitty~.]

e s t e r
role;; rogue assassin
race;; human
tagged;; the party,
and Mira
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Ester thought that, perhaps, he wasn't thinking this through properly. It was getting late, he had consumed a fair amount of alcohol and where the man before him lacked in height, he made up for in anger and strength. Never mind that, however, Ester had never been one for 'thinking before he acted'. It had gotten him in troublesome situations before and it was certainly getting him into one now. Clenched fists, jaw set, Fabian had looked like the image of fury right before him. Ordinarily, one would back down, give it up, buy the good man a drink. Ester was not that type of bloke. He liked to - what was the phrase? Poke the sleeping dragon. After all, what would the harm be?

As he had thrown the alcohol upon the man, Ester considered following with an off-handed comment, likely a teasing jibe such as 'you looked like you needed to cool down'. Not one for overused lines (or a way to further enrage the warrior), he pointedly decided that that wasn't such a good idea after all. Fabian looked livid, like a bull that had seen red. The words that spouted from his mouth surely made half the tavern turn to look, tearing away from their current conversations. The elven man Ester had made a very brief, outgoing conversation with promptly turned tail and ran as Fabian charged towards him. Ester was sure it would have been like getting hit by a galloping draft horse had others not got in the way. Poor souls.

Afterwards, it was a bit of a blur. Everyone was shouting and fighting as the owner attempted to calm everyone down. It wasn't long before he too began to resort to violence. Ester, ever the sly minx, had managed to avoid the majority of the fighting, but was still sporting a few fresh bruises and a bite on his arm from a rather drunken dwarf. Allya, he had noticed, was squabbling with a slight man. As soon as the fight began, she had been under the table. The poor sod had been knocked under as well in the duration and, upon sighting her, made his advances. Like a cat, Allya had lunged out, all nails and teeth and she looked like she had the upper hand. As one of the only sober patrons in the whole bar, she had the best reflexes and clarity of them all.

Still, it did not do well to dwell on another when he was being targeted by a large angry man. Said man was now bearing the leg of a bar stool. Where the rest of the stool had gone to, Ester wasn't entirely sure. He just knew he didn't want to be receiving end of it. He glanced left, then right and to his absolute happiness found that he was mostly cornered. Unless, of course, he wished to enter a lively fistfight between a man breaching six foot five and that fat dwarf who had earlier bitten him (on the left); or a one on one with the tavern owner who honestly was not afraid to glass his patrons (on the right). This left no other option but forward which was where Fabian of course was charging in his direction.

As an assassin, Ester had to have a firm grasp on reflexes and agility. Still, with the alcohol blurring the edges of his sight, he felt as though it would be detrimental to rely on these skills in the Garters. He kept his palms opened, favouring them over fists. He never quite had it in him to slug someone in the jaw, nor did he have the build for it. With his hands ready, he could be given the chance to catch the stool leg mid-strike, or if worse came to worst, a clap over the ears was always an excellent disorientation.

He braced himself for a blow, one foot back and one foot forward, knees bent, shoulder low. When he (eventually) returned home and his mother asked what he had been up to, he would be sure to leave this detail out of his stories, he told himself. As Fabian came towards him, he struck first, trying for a hit to his solar plexus. It was only half-way through the motion did he realise he had already outstretched himself, as he stumbled forward, off-balance. An excellent beginning to his inevitable failure, he thought sardonically.

[Jade Harley.]

leanne kios
• nineteen • human • spirit healer • tagged: da party • the tavern •

Her legs were heavier than a wyvern's bottom. "This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea," As Leanne spoke, her voice shook but she tried to laugh anyway. "Head up, chin up, be proud of yourself!" She let out a sigh, trying to regain her composure. Who'd have thought! A little mage girl could run away from templars! Leanne's mood suddenly changed as she laughed and jumped a little in joy. Being so close to death and suddenly so far away felt great, amazing, spectacular! Leanne had been sentenced to death after "accidentally," killing two templars. She had good reasons to. Templars weren't good people. Those two especially. But just days before the Templar order thought it would be good to use her as much as possible so she was allowed to go out in what she thought could have been her last days. Bad move.

The moment she stepped out she conked out her escorts and made a run for it, ditching her staff and pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. She hadn't stopped running until she reached she reached the forest of Narivi. Her freedom had only really kicked in as she wandered through the forest. A real forest! Not like the ones in her books or the ones some of her mage friends would spin tales of for her. After the feeling of freedom and curiosity died Leanne started to feel panic and scared. Without her staff she was basically defenseless and the templars still had ways of tracking her down. After the next town, surprisingly she actually made it through the forest, she tried to put on a poker face. She put her hood down but kept the cloak tight around her body, lest someone recognise her circle robes.

Everything had been incredible, she was back on her "freedom," high and back to admiring all the wonders of a world she had never seen before. She only had the money which she stole off of the templars she knocked out but the problem was she didn't even know how currency worked. Being taken away at such a young age meant she never really knew the essentials of life. No one bothered to teach her about basic outside world needs and the templars said she wouldn't have to know. The young girl shook the pouch of coins. It sounded like a lot at least.

Deciding her money would be better spent than left hanging from her belt, she had decided to go into a tavern. All the taverns had strange names and she found herself giggling like a little girl whenever she read one. This one was called, "The Queen's Garters." Were they allowed to do that? Didn't nobles get needlessly angry when you played a little joke or a prank on them? It was still funny and she found herself chuckling until she burst the door open. She yelled immediately and ducked to avoid a flying bottle. Was this normal for outsiders?? Leanne tried approaching someone near the door, "Uh-excuse me what's gOING ON OH GODS DON'T THROW THAT CHAIR!" She tried to push the large man away but magic leaked from her fingertips, sending him a little further than she wanted to. Laughing, the girl quickly covered her mouth and tried to apologize between giggles, "Oh-pfft-I am so sorry sir! I guess-haha-I'm just stronger than I look?" Oh gods d*mn it now he looked really angry.

[ sweet babies i finally posted im sorry if its not a full on brawl yet but kitty told me it was so if it's wrong blame her omg]

[Keriae]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ＦＡＢＩＡＮ ＳＨＡＲＰＥ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
❛''''ＡＮＤ Ｉ＇Ｍ ＮＯＴ ＢＡＣＫＩＮＧ ＤＯＷＮ
I WILL STAND MY GROUND! I WILL STAND MY GROUND!
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯

★x
★
★

ＢＥＣＡＵＳＥ
ａ ｃｈａｍｐｉｏｎ ｉｓ
WHAT THEY CALL ME NOW!

★
★
★

xxxxxxxage: twenty seven
xxxxxxxclass: warrior-knight
xxxxxxxtagged: everyone

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Fabian could have laughed. Honestly and truly, he could have laughed at the pretty boy, holding his palms up to the sky and looking for all the world like he really didn't want to fight Fabian. Well, he should have thought about that before he grabbed the tankard and emptied it into his face. Hell, he should have thought about that before he even came near the lovely Elanna. Who had promptly disappeared as soon as the fighting began, so who knew where she was now. Probably running through the streets to get come without incident. And as far as Fabian was concerned, it was all Ester's fault, and he was going to pay for it. Fabian had trekked through the Narivi, of all places, he'd survived a demon bear, he deserved one night with a pretty woman!

There was a feral grin pulling at his lips as he moved closer. There was nowhere for Ester to go, surrounded as he was by fighting. Wherever he went in this tavern, he'd be surrounded by fighting. Which meant that wherever he went Fabian would have a chance to collar him and teach him a lesson. A slow painful lesson, too. At least, that was what he was planning with a deadly glint in his eye. But as he got within a few feet, Ester made the first move, lunging forwards with what appeared to be every intent to hit him in the solar plexus. But Fabian was too far away, and he didn't even have to dodge it. Instead, Ester began to fall to the floor, loosing his balance. He stumbled closer as a woman's voice shouted from the doorway - something about a chair. Fabian paid it no mind, confidently wielding his stool leg.

It didn't exactly take much to slam the side of the wood into the other man's temple. Perhaps he was overconfident in turning around straight away and grabbing the nearest drink to finish it. After all, he'd only had one bottle of wine, he was nowhere near drunk yet. Just easily angered. It was ale, apparently the same as Alyce had been drinking, though he thought it was likely warmer. Fabian slammed the empty tankard on the table. "Who wants some then?" He shouted, though to no one in particular.

[Wolvine]

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Ａｌｙｃｅ  Ｔｏｂｉａｓ  Ｖａｕｘ

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Ｈｕｍａｎ  Ｓｐｙ

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Ｗｉｔｈ：  ｔｈｅ  Ｐａｒｔｙ

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The inevitable bar fight was every bit as delightful as Alyce could have hoped. It opened dramatically, what with Ester flinging a drink (that wasn’t even his) like an insulted lady, which really was a delightful touch. At the action, all the patrons who had yet to notice the developing event seemed to fall quiet, turning to the source of the commotion. She fancied she could still see the ale dripping out of Fabian’s beard even after the brawl had begun. The pure outraged disbelief on the, now rather damp, warrior’s face was worth every single copper spent in the Garters that evening, and then some. To see a re-enactment of the scene that followed, the utter terror on Ester’s face as the soggy and seething Fabian charged him, she would have given up all of her family’s savings.
It was perhaps fortunate she wasn’t in charge of the Vaux business after all.

The tavern erupted once more into action, with large, drunk men flinging themselves at each other. Everything blurred into men being thrown onto tables and tables being thrown onto men. Liquid of assorted origins sprayed into the air, and Alyce’s ears were filled with the comforting sound of squabbling drunks.

A veteran, dare she say even a champion, of events such as these, she was content to sit back and watch the sloppy technique of the gladiators, making private bets with herself on the most likely victor. Any other time, and she would have thrown herself into the fray, glad for the relatively safe outlet for her stresses, but she remembered only too well how painful it had been to drag her battered self through the Narivi, and had no wish to repeat the experience. The spy knew the best ways to make herself fade into the background. As a woman, she was already less of a target, and so it was not hard to appear small and irrelevant to the fracas surrounding her. She did, after all, make her livelihood from disappearing.

Only a single battler attempted to approach her. His head was spitting blood freely, and the skin surrounding his eyes had the sunken, blue-tinted signs of a frequent Powder user. Judging from the miniscule flecks of pallid blue around his nose, his latest dose hadn’t been all too long ago, and so he probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind. Still, Alyce had no desire to let him get near. He was large, much larger than her, and even in his frazzled state he could prove troublesome at close range. She spat at his face, making him reel back and paw at his face in confusion, bringing her tankard down on his head.

While she had been distracted by the Powder addict, Allya had somehow managed to slide under the table and rip a gaunt man into shreds. Alyce ducked her head under and beamed at the elf, apparently unaware of or unconcerned by the fact that the gates of Hell were opening around them.

“Having a good time?” She did, truth be told, feel a little bad. Allya clearly hadn’t been comfortable when they were drinking, and this would be far out of her comfort zone. But they had just spent what felt like half their lives in the forest of nightmares. They deserved one night of debauchery and alcohol. Though, seeing how the tavern maid had done an excellent job at disappearing, perhaps they’d have to replace the debauchery with some more ale.

The sound of the tavern door being slammed open drew her attention upwards again. The city guard, most likely attracted by the rather gentile sounds of violence emerging from the tavern, had arrived, and were busy splitting up scrabbling men and ejecting the more wrathful of the gentlefolk. She was pretty sure she saw one particularly eager fellow try and engage what she assumed was some sort of well-armed official, judging from his rather impressive moustache (one could generally tell how high a rank a man was by how well groomed his facial hair was), in combat. This gamely chap was promptly knocked out and tossed out onto the street.

“Our signal to leave, I think,” she told Allya cheerfully, bringing herself to her feet and moving over to Fabian, being careful to avoid his suspiciously dark looking chair leg. “Fabian, old boy, what do you say we move out? You seem to have defended your honour well enough for one night.” She glanced over in mild concern at her unconscious friend. He’d been utterly trounced, but it didn’t look like he’d have any injuries that the healer-mage wouldn’t be able to fix.

“I know you didn’t have the best of meetings, but I think we should take Ester with us.” She considered, briefly, letting Fabian know that he had never been in any real danger of losing ‘his woman’ to the shoddy assassin, but it was not her secret to tell. “He is a friend of mine, and while I do understand that you had to beat him bloody to prove your manliness and whatnot, I’m not sure it would be healthy for our relationship if I left him to bleed out in a grotty tavern.”

[Kitty~.]

a l l y a
role;; rogue archer
race;; elven
tagged;; the party,
Leanne, Ester
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Prior to the barfight, Allya hadn't exactly been enjoying herself, per se, but she hadn't been discontent. She was actually quite pleased with the lack of chaos and whatnot. She was always the most at peace in a forest (preferably not one inhabited by demon bears), but she had noticed her stress begin to wane away as the night progressed.

Of course, that had to change, inevitably. As soon as she noted this 'Ester' boy begin to pick a fight with Fabian, Allya could feel herself sinking further into her seat. This was not going to end well. Not in the slightest. Both men were in a state of intoxication and both were far too arrogant for their own good. The deal was sealed when Ester (very stupidly, might she add), threw a mug of ale into Fabian's face. Allya had never moved so fast to climb under a table before in her life, but there she was, scrambling for the darkest corner away from the impending battle before her. Some might call her a coward, but at least she hadn't been socked in the jaw.

Sitting withdrawn under the table, Allya quietly observed the ruckus from afar. As if she hadn't had her fair share of chaos for that day. People were shouting, punching, kicking, biting - was that magic? She quickly averted her eyes. Now, if only Allya could remain like this for the rest of the night...Fate, however, would not have that. After engaging in a fistfight by the table, one such unfortunate man was deposited in her hiding place. He thought it would be a good idea to advance on her. That was a mistake on his part. As he came within reach, she lunged, knocking him flat underneath the table and attacking him with every ounce of savagery she had. Scratching, punching and biting, the man was very much regretting his detour to this table. After a vicious beating, the sod scrambled away, welts on his face and fresh bruises on his skin. Panting and now incredibly on-edge, Allya glanced up to see a head - Alyce's to be specific - ducking over to say hi. Unamused, the elf glared at her companion, not feeling as though she should oblige the woman with an answer.

Her attention was once more drawn away by the City Guard, bursting through the doors like they owned the place. Allya was certainly thankful. It would give them an opportunity to escape from the cesspool of alcohol and sweat. Left and right, individuals were being split up by the men and women in armour. Clambering out from under the table, Allya followed close behind Alyce, wiping away a little blood from a split lip. It was one of the only blows the drunk had managed, flailing about as he was. She doubted it was even intended.

Although Allya didn't often approve of Fabian, his methods with Ester were admirable, if a little over the top. The assassin desperately needed to be taken down a few notches, particularly after starting that bar fight. Reckless and mischievous, it was any wonder he hadn't gotten himself killed yet. She observed the unconscious human with mild disdain. If first impression were anything to go by, Ester would remain out of her good books for this moment of time.

-

After the rather eventful night, Allya relished a good night's sleep, or as good a night's sleep she could get. She had always experienced light slumber, far too cautious to fall too far into her dreams. The hard stone of the street did little to help, she supposed. They hadn't taken up an inn. They didn't have the gold. Perhaps they would have, had they not drank themselves silly the night before. A small part of Allya hoped they would have horrible hangovers when they got up. Maybe they would learn a lesson or two (probably not, but a girl could dream).

Her joints ached, from both the surface and previous days of travel. She steadily got to her feet and strode over to Alyce. It was moderately early, but citizens had begun to arise from their homes. Allya fully intended to leave before the streets got busy. Crouching down beside the rogue, she hesitated, but eventually grasped Alyce's arm, shaking it lightly. "Alyce, we've got to go see that healer," she spoke softly.