- HoHum... I am also not addicted to beer... - Vorhamus said while drinking two giant mugs at once.

After ending both mugs with deep swallows, he was left to say:

- If I were addicted to beer.... I would drink two giant mugs at the same time... And end both with some swallows...

Ren couldnt help but stiffle a smile at the very notion of this Lizard being given the title of Lord. The man who had sat next to Ren seemed to be in no slow pace to get himself striken with alcohol.

Since his confrontation with the lizard Ren had decided that drinking beer again on this night would be unwise, especailly as the lizard seemed to be getting more edgey with every mug of tea.

Not liking the situation that the newcommer had thrown him in, Ren lets out a loud sigh and leaves the crowded table.

Having never been part of a community before, Ren was not comfortable with how close everybody was happy with being, he walked across the bar and made an obvious point to want to sit alone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stick, he then held it within the latern on the table, untill it caught fire. Waiting a few moments for it to proerly burn, he then blows it out, leaving a small red tip on the end, emmiting a light coloured wood scented smoke to waft from it. He siged as he bought out a bundle of the sticks, he was running low, and he would have no way of obtaining more.

Ren sat with his back against the far corner of the room, the smoke swirling around him as he sat in quiet mediation, never taking his eyes of the group on the other side of the room.

He sat, awaiting his cloaks return.

Then I ask myself the same question.

Xalaroth , a druid in his late teens wearing a damged blue robe , arrow holes here and there , an funny looking green hat and a pair of blue legs enterd frodo's

-"Avish lemen anur Frodo , one cup of your finest tea please." He said reaching for his wallet.

- Xalaroth? it wasent yeasterday , welcome friend , this cup if on the house.

Xalaroth thanked him and sat down to have a chat with Frodo.
He relised a bunch of people was chatting loudly and...what is that? an lizard!?


OoC : Oi there m8's i love the fact that you have spent your time in making this marvoulus site! , as you might know im not very experienced in roleplaying but i'll do my best!

Shyra was quite please that the clothes fitted Eilfy and that she was quite well into observation of the situation around her.

"Well to be quite blunt with you sweet heart, "Shyra teased a bit while looking into her closet for other clothes in case Eilfy found herself into another accident.

"I never met any of them, though I am familiar with the type of people they are. Like those who claim to come from the bloodline of Banor or of Zathroth. Demigods we call them, monsters, inhuman, or superbeings are other such words."

Shyra found another set of clothes, one of similar color to her robe but was two piece like the one that Eilfy was wearing.

"As for the Hawkdragon... I met some others who bare both the name and the symbol that was on his chest plate's front. A noble clan they are, having a huge mixture of religions, beliefs, backgrounds, and heritages that bled into one culture.

Truth be done, you could say that me and the Hawkdragon clan are... acquaintances in many dealings in the past. Now do me a huge favor, and don't ask my age sweetie; or I may have to silence you."

She seemed widely, assuring Eilfy she was merely joking and playing with her.

"That Hawkdragon downstairs is of the rare breed, or more likely the smaller faction of the clan branch. It would take forever in going into detail, but even though he is young. He is quite dangerous, and will be very formidable when he matures; since his line are able to use both magic and sword in battle and are able to enhance their skills temporary in battle."

Shyra placed the other set of clothes near Eilfy and continued, "You could have those spare clothes there, I have many and most are unable to fit me anymore due to my sizes. Feel free to take them without worry of strings attach."

Shyra was busying herself fixing some of her more messier parts of her room, being a power sorceress that has much time on her hands to explore the depths of magic on her own.

She then added to Eilfy about the men's desires, "Honey, all men are the same. They look for pleasure, and when they're done; they go looking for glory or fame to ease their need to clang swords at each other. Besides, if anything they tend to go about with their ways of acting dominant; when in truth it's us women who hold all the playing cards."

Shyra had a sly grin on her face and it was obvious she had play this so called 'battle of the sexes' many times and won.

Shyra then notice the man's cloak on the bed and made a disgruntle face, "I suspect our Banor's son is wanting to have his cloak back. Will you take it back, or shall I? If you think he merely handed you the cloak for his own needs."

Shyra was enjoying playing games with everyone, though with the Hawkdragon... she would prefer to play another kind of game, and one which she'll have to wait on.

While putting the shirt on that Shyra gave her, she listens to Shyra and her analysing of the situation downstairs.

I was right, she knows those people probably for a longer time and by hearing what she told about the Hawkdragon guy... he and Shyra are far from friendly with each other. But why? I think I'll ask that later, no need to evoke any unwanted reactions for now.

Though, her curiosity has certainly grew bigger and somehow she doubts that the demigods and Shyra herself are in the tavern just to drink a cup of tea with each other. A bit uncertain about whether to ask more or leave it with this for now, she touches the clothes which Shyra put next to her.

"Thanks for the clothes, they are for sure more dry than the ones I was wearing. I should watch out with water... and I think I'll watch out with those men downstairs as well seeing that they are demigods and I am not even able to handle a sword."

She grins playfully at Shyra who seems pleased with Eilfy though she has no clue why. Strange to see someone who is skilled at magic interested in a girl who is only skilled in handling cattle... well skilled in swordfighting as well if you count the numerous training sessions in which she tried to fight an imagenry enemy.

I suspect our Banor's son is wanting to have his cloak back. Will you take it back, or shall I? If you think he merely handed you the cloak for his own needs." Shyra interrupts her wandering mind, reminding her of the cloak she got from the young man.

"I think I'll be allright, I'll give it back myself. There is not much he can do anyway in a tavern full of other man who might have their interests as well" She smiles at Shyra "And if he does have further interests, I think I'll be able to make him clear he's not dealing with an ordinary girl"

That for sure sounded a lot thougher than I feel... let's hope it turns out well.

While looking around if she didn't forget anything, she takes her small bag in which she put the clothes Shyra gave her. With the bag in one hand and the cloak of Ren over her arm, she walks back to the Tavern again.

When she arrives downstairs, she sees more people have arrived. One of them immediately evokes a shivering: he's dressed in a black cloak and nor his eyes neither his mouth are visible. The other is a young man who seems a bit surprised by the sight of Silven. She searches for Ren who seems to have seperated from the group and is sitting in the corner of the room now. Quickly, she walks towards him, carefully putting his cloak over the chair next to him.

"Thanks for borrowing me your cloak, it for sure held me warm for a bit. Luckily, Shyra had some dry clothes for me so I don't need it anymore." She smiles at Ren, not sure what to do next now.

Vorhamus noticed the woman come down from the stairs. She glared at him and at Xalaroth, before sitting down on Ren's table.

- Well... The mood of this tavern... Hasn't changed a bit... - said Vorhamus already on his fifth giant mug of beer.

- THERE HE IS! THE JESTER FREAK THAT MAKES STUPID JOKES! - yelped a group of children as they smashed the door of Frodo's pub open.

Vorhamus spit all the beer from within his mouth in surprise. He hadn't expected for his jokes to end up so negatively.

- Damn... I never thought it would end up this way... - he said while standing up. - Calm down children... Ehh... Why did the lion cross the road..?

- THROW ROCKS AT HIM! - the kid on the front said.

Vorhamus escaped from the back door of Frodo's pub, and nobody sighted him anymore. The group of about fifteen children ran after him, leaving the mood of the tavern in surprise. Some spilled their drinks in laughter and others just remained surprised.

Shyra was in her room as she checked for things, she let Eilfy go on ahead of her since she felt it was more appropriate for her to leave first.

She left her room and casted an enchant to ensure the room was locked from any and all intruders.

Then she heard it, a loud ruckus of children shouting about throwing rocks at someone from outside and below.

She calmly looked out the window and saw a hooded man retreating from a pack of children who acting like wild animals.

"Dear me, have the parents ever taught those children manners?"

Shyra was one who would get involve in any matters, as long as she got amusement out it. Especially after several of her own ordeals and triumphs.

She leaped out of the window and landed gracefully with the aid of magic onto the ground and shouted toward the children.

"Oh Children!! Come here for a moment will you all?"

The children chasing the hooded man stopped quickly as if in a trance by Shyra's voice. They turned and obey, like a flock of sheep to Shyra's direction.

Shyra laughed at their gullibility and spoke coldly to them all.

"Didn't your parent ever told you not to get involve with strangers? Or harm innocent bystanders?"

"But he tells bad jokes!?!"
"Why should we listen?"
"What's your issue old lady?!"

A series of questions which was expected by these brats somewhat irritated Shyra, but one thing got her attention.

"Lets stone her too! I bet she is with that guy!"

Shyra then gave all the children a very dark glare, one that froze them all in place. She spoke to them in a sinister voice that a well train adventurer would what it belonged to.

"Insolent Brats! You would dare challenge me! Know that I am more than capable of roasting you all alive and feeding your carcasses to the demons and furies who fall to my command! Now leave before I make good on my declaration of death on you!"

The children felt the cursing aura and with fear... ran for their lives as if they saw a real demon before them.

With that done, Shyra fixed her hair back and scoffed in boredom. Though her eyes were now on the hooded man.

"Wow a little nightmare spell and they run wetting their pants. Well now, since I dealt with the brats, without having you use anything lethal on them. May I know your name? By the way I am... Shyra Grimwalk. Pleasure to meet you."

Shyra then looked back to the tavern and walked that way.

"Come now hooded man, we stood head back to the tavern to better introduce ourselves yes? Besides, I am worried of my dearie Eilfy with that so called son of Banor.... Ren"

Shyra said the name with a slight different tone, one that could say that is was fill with some strange intent.

Distracted for a moment when the hooded man ran out of the tavern, followed by a whole horde of children who were yelling something about 'bad jokes' to him, she looks away from Ren, quite amused with the sight of the man that made her shiver running for a bunch of kids with stones.

Maybe he isn't that bad after all... just that he should really see someone to get his eyes and mouth fixed

The thought of seeing the hooded man in a chair of a magician evokes a slight grin on her face. Seeing his appearance he is most likely a demigod as well thus no need for him to look good, he's strong anyway.

Feeling the uncomfortable weight of her bag on her back, she carefully puts it off her back on the ground. Still not sure about what to do with Ren but with more curiosity than is good for her, she slowly walks to the bar hoping that asking Frodo for another drink will not reveal her uncertainty.

There was further ruckus outside as a young man, barely of age, staggered through the door and up to the bar.

"Dear God," the lad began, "a foolish Lord began giving away his possessions at the local depot. It's a freakin' madhouse down there!"

He sat down hard at the bar. "I need a drink. And make it strong, if you will. It's been a hell of a day."

Ren was ripped from his meditative state by the movement of cloth on his leg. He looked up and saw the young girl holding out his cloak to him.
She thanked him, and Ren smiled at her "Think nothing of it" He said "But thank you for returning it!"

The stick that he had lit had now burnt to naught but ash, leaving a small gray line on the table in front of him. With disapointment, he saw the young girl walk away from him, to the bar. He looked down and saw the girls bag sitting by his side, comforted by the thought that she would now have to be returning, Ren too stood and walked to the bar for another drink.

He approached Frodo and asked for some tea, he then payed for the drink and then handed extra money to Frodo, as payment for the young girls drink, he looked over to her, but she seemed uncertain of Ren.

He made a small motion with his hand, inviting the young girl to come and sit with him at his table.

Then I ask myself the same question.

Surprised by Ren's decision to pay her drink and still aware of the warnings Shyra gave her, she walks to Ren's table and takes a seat on the chair opposite of Ren. At the moment she almost sits down, she remembers she forgot her drink. With a playful smile at Ren she exclaims

"Well, looks like I'm not in the mood for anything smart today!"

She quickly walks to the bar and takes the tea from Frodo. She notices the other young boy who just entered, talking about the mess in the local depot. Not seeming that he finds anyone else than himself very interesting, Eilfy leaves him for what it is and walks back to the table where she sits down again, this time to remain seated.

A bit unsure of what to do next, primarily caused by the fact she never faced a unfamiliar man or boy, she concentrates at her tea and thinks frantically about a way to start a conversation.

As Vorhamus observed the woman deal with the children, she had asked for his name, on which he gave her an answer:

- My true name is to remain secret... But call me Deathly Vorhamus... Or only Vorhamus if you do not like to talk much... The pleasure is all mine... If it weren't for you... I would already be half way to Venore...

After following her back to the pub, Vorhamus sat down back at the table, and ordered another giant mug of beer.

As the drink passed through his throat, his eyes widened and he coughed loudly. He put his gloved hand inside the space covered by the hood, reaching his mouth. Taking out the hand, he noticed the blood. After leaving his mug over the table, he forced himself to stand up, and weakened as he was, barely walked away as he walked to the back door of Frodo's pub.

- I.. Will be right... Back... - he said with his same ragged voice, but with a weaker tone.

Getting outside, he layed his back on the brick wall, and gazed to the sky.

Hazour had finish his meal and was now dwelling through his own private thoughts. Though the new comers certainly did gave him quite a few stirs of emotions.

However, what caught his attention was the feeling of cold eyes bearing down on his being.

He thought to himself as he ponder: Who would give me a cold glare? Could it be that Ren guy? No... simply glaring and scowling would be beneath a so called honorable son of Banor. Hmmmm this feeling seems both nostalgic and alien at the same time....

Hazour looked around carefully, and he failed to notice the source of the cold stare.

Though he decided to get up and head out on his own for awhile.

"Well I feel I've had enough food and drink for the noon, I'll be exploring the docks and such so I can plan for my journey. May the grace of the Twilight Emperor shine on you all with good fortune."

With that Hazour made a slight bow and grabbed his gear to leave the pub.

"BLOODY HELL!"

A scream was heard from just behind the pub. A young man with long brown hair tripped over the black robes of a certain Deathly Vorhamus. This person didn't stay to apologise, though. He was in a hurry, for just behind him came running a whole gang of guards.
"OUT OF ME WAY!"

The young man stormed into Frodo's, knocked several tables over and bumped into another man who was just about to leave the pub, both falling to the floor.

"Where did he go?", one of the guards asked.
"Don't know. He's not here at least.", they didn't see John lying on the floor.

After they left, John got up.
"I'm sorry, mate! I was in a hurry, didn't see ya!"

Edit: Decided to get John involved here too. And when does someone come up with an adventure?

As he got his strength back, a man tripped on Vorhamus' robes. Vorhamus almost had not noticed for the incredible speed the man carried along with him.

- Lucky these robes are black... - he muttered silently, before re-entering the pub.

While he opened the back door, it fell off. Looks like the fault would be of both of the guards whom seemed to run after the man, or maybe it was the man himself who did the damage.

When he stared around, he saw both of the men on the ground, and decided to help them out. But he was doubtful that they would consider to be helped by such a dark figure, and decided not to. Going back to his seat, he noticed his giant mug of beer had been emptied. He sighed, completely disappointed.

- Alright... - he said in a lowed voice - Who was the one whom drank my beer?! - he spoke, in a high voice tone on which everyone in the pub was able to hear, except upstairs and around the pub.