Chaszva leaned against the bar, watching what there was to see around them. A lot of humans, a lot of them cloaked or drinking. It would've been infinitely easier to bring their own people, but the Dark Queen did not want to send an army here. Not yet, anyways. This was strictly gathering information and attempting to get a foot hold here. Though the Goddess had all the time in the multi-verse to wait and plan, Chaszva planned on being the one to settle this realm. There was little immortality for the mortal save being remembered for something great. It was the drow female's belief that was why Stavros was here. For the glory of his name and memory.
"This drink smells of Alk piss!" The sound of the human's declaration drew both her and Stavros' attention. Apparently the wizard had yet to find anyone of note because he'd remained silent since entering. Not that Chaszva had a problem with that. But if there was no talent to be found here, then why waste the time standing around? The female watched the small scene, noticing that many of the others around the bar were doing the same. The man was large, easily three times as wide as the slender drow, and apparently drunk as well. That was the reason Chaszva didn't mess with alcohol. It lowered one's guard. And common sense, obviously. The owner of the establishment moved to deal with the man who didn't like the quality of his drink.
Stavros gave a sigh of annoyance before taking a sip of the water. If he was hot in the coat he wore, there was not a bead of sweat to indicate as much. He brushed a lock of blue hair behind a pointed ear while peering about the room still. Where to even begin? What's more, the drow happened to hate humans. Apparently, that was all he had to work with. Why couldn't they have arrived at a realm full of slender elves? At least that would've given him something of interest to look at. The priestess was the only one around for... well, quite a ways. And Stavros wasn't about to get mixed up with Chaszva.
A collective intake of breath drew Stavros' attention back to the fight. He'd not heard what was said, but the guard of the tavern had a sword pressed to the man's chest. It was enough of a scene that the male drow continued to watch now. He briefly considered the merit of such a man. They needed informants as well as sell swords. Stavros was minutely curious how loyal said guard might be to the owner of this place. His near blue eyes slid to the small, beautifully figured drow next to him. Stavros was betting he could test the man using her.
Chaszva rose a single, slender brow when the large human was killed by a well placed sword. Truthfully, she could see the feint even as the drunkard had turned, deciding it was not worth it. If he'd been quicker... or smarter... then he could've thrown the blade rather than running at him. Granted, it was never a wise course of action to attack someone while drunk. You just ended up... well, dead. Much to her surprised amusement, the guard make his way over to them. She could nearly feel the tension coil up in Stavros. If Chaszva died on this mission, he'd never be able to return home. To the male who prided himself so much on his family name, the disgrace was worse than death.
The priestess said nothing nor did she move when the man approached. Better yet, he simply claimed the empty stool next to her and sat down. All uninvited. Not that she really cared, but it was something to note. What he said though, made her smile more than anything. "What are a man with no sense of heat and the most beautiful woman I've seen in the last twenty leagues doing in place like this?"
Stavros decided he immediately didn't like the guy. But being fond of someone was not a requirement to hire them. If the man was worth anything, then so be it. Stavros would put up with him. He didn't say anything though. Chaszva was leading this little party. So far.
The drowess took a sip of her drink, mulling over his question. She'd been about to answer, but... someone squeezed in the small space between her and the other man. "Good day mistress. I apologize for his lack manners, he knows nothing about Drow society." Chaszva's brows rose a fraction at his words, wondering if the man knew that she was not the average flavor of drow. But the warning that this new comer delivered was by far more amusing than the fact the other human had just walked over and sat next to her.
Stavros was near dumbfounded as some other male stepped between the priestess and the man she was talking to. He almost intervened thinking it may be a hostile action... until he heard the words. Then he just stared. Well obviously someone knew about drow, but Stavros and Chaszva were not Lolthian by any stretch. Their Goddess, Assirra, had no preference of sex. Rather, it was all based on power. Since Chaszva was stronger than him... because of that damned shadow... she led the party. But before anything could be said, the other man was gone... leaving both Chaszva and Stavros to stare at the guard as though blaming him for the fact the man had randomly shown up.
Chaszva glanced to where the smaller man had went before turning her attention back to the guard. As she started to talk, she found the other man was not done with them. Rather, he introduced himself as Deandle Umbralstrike and another man as Uther Bonegnawer. The names had absolutely no meaning to them... but what Deandle said about Uther... that had both drow's attention. A god of Death and Chaos? Both Chaszva and Stavros shared a look that clearly meant this may not go so well. There were very few deities that clashed with Assirra, but of those few they were very dangerous. The recent fall out with a God of Death had both Chaszva and Stavros on edge. It would take but a thought and her shadow would be on the cleric before a breath of spell could be uttered.
The guard would have to wait. If there was a fight to be had, both drow would be ready. "A cleric of whom?" Chaszva breathed softly, eyeing the man known as Uther. Even Stavros' attention was on him, spells on the tip of his tongue if the wrong name was used.
