The Rowan Tavern

[Anonymous]

A lone figure wearing plain traveler's clothes and a hooded cloak entered the Rowan Tavern and took a seat near the fire.  After a few moments of rest, he paid the barmaid for a tankard of ale and a hot meal and sat down to enjoy the well-prepared refreshment.  He ventured to draw back the cloak's hood from his jet-black hair as he sat there eating, listening to a bard in the corner pick out a merry tune on a lute.  Every once in a while he would glance out the window at the passersby, as if he were half expecting a friend to join him.  He absently drew the hood back over his features and eased back in his chair, enjoying the evening's entertainment.

[Anonymous]

Nahar walked slowly down the stairs, unsure of what her next move would be. She had rested a bit and had something to eat. Now she felt ready for todays challenge, but she didn't quite know what that would be. She had quickly found out that people were alot nicer than her village had made them out to be. Or at least the ones she had actually talked to. Perhaps today she would go out and explore the city of Adela. But having enough of being lost, she decided it would be best to find someone to help her. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, and tucked her dark chestnut hair behind her pointed elf ear, and let her green eyes wander around the room, searching for someone who would possibley help her.
Her eyes fell on a dark haired man sitting by himself at a table. Nahar wondered if he was waiting for company. She stood there staring at him for a bit, wondering if it was worth it to even ask him.
Finally making her decission, she held up her head proudly and strided over to him. She cleared her throat to grab his attention.
"Excuse me sir, my name is Nahar. So you live in this city?" she gave him the fainted smile to show him she ment no harm. Not that she even looked like she could harm anything though. But sometimes appearances can be decieving.

[Anonymous]

"I am...only passing through, milady," the young man answers.  "But I am well acquainted with the lay of the land.  And I am pleased to meet you, Lady Nahar."  He makes a sort of half bow while still sitting and smiles politely, the hood of his cloak still covering his head.  "My name is Tirhion."

[Rhindeer]

This was not where he wanted to be, and not just in a physical sense.

The entire position he'd found himself in these past few days was just...ridiculous. While he enjoyed a good old fashioned game of cat and mouse every now and then, tracking down someone who he hadn't planned on ever having to hunt down simply wasn't his idea of fun. Never mind that his idea of fun was already innately warped by most people's standards; that wasn't the point. This was simply annoying, and not the least bit amusing. And, in a way...it was baffling. He hadn't expected the boy to have the courage to attempt something this stupid behind his back.

Especially since the brat wasn't really free. And no amount of distance could change that fact.

Well, at least, not so long as he possessed the ring that kept him bound to him. Nevertheless...once he found the boy, he'd be sure to think up something that would discourage any future attempts. After all, he couldn't watch him all the time, and he wanted to ensure that the boy was put back in his place. And if that meant breaking his spirit, so be it; he didn't need the kid's spirit, anyway. Just his abilities. Hell, the kid would probably be even better broken. He needed to be reminded who was the master in this "relationship", anyway.

Shifting his cloak about his shoulders absently, Kyras glanced tiredly up at the inn that entered his view. He'd already scoured about half the village, shops and all, and was just generally worn down, weary, and moody from the whole ordeal. And only growing more so with each passing minute. But he wasn't about to stop his search, not until he at least got a lead of some sort. Under his control or not, he couldn't have the boy winding up the victim of some street thug or worse, and he had no power to prevent harm from coming to him. And the boy wouldn't be much use severely maimed.

Well...time to go on and quiz yet another set of people.

Pushing open the doors to the inn, Kyras scanned over the patrons already inhabiting the space quickly as he made his way inside. Meh. Just an elven girl, cloaked stranger, a few drunkards and a bard. Wasn't much different from any other inn he'd been in that day. Every inn seemed to have that combination of strangers, at least. He wasn't really disappointed that he didn't recognize anyone, though, not even his pet. He didn't expect the boy would linger long in an inn if he had any brains in that skull of his. Still, Kyras would expect the boy to make a stop at an inn for nourishment in the least, so maybe the innkeeper would have seen something.

The boy did stand out, as it was. Red hair wasn't all too common, so it did tend to stand out.

Shrugging out of his cloak, as the atmoshere within was substantially warmerâ€"and besides, playing polite was generally a good way to get what you wanted if it was availableâ€"he made his way up to the barkeep and ordered a tankard of ale. He never touched it, though. He wasn't much of a drinker, and he didn't need a reason to feel any more tired than he already was. But it was practically an obligation to buy something, and who was he to spit in the face of tradition?

"Excuse me, but I was wonderingâ€"I know you must see a ton of patrons each day, but I was wondering if you had perhaps seen a man about, oh, six feet tall, red hair, ears like an elf, green eyes? Black mark on his neck, looks like a cross? Maybe you remember?" he asked casually, speaking at a normal pitch. He didn't care if others overheardâ€"in fact, even better if they did, for it meant more eyes to keep on the watch. Well, if they were the watchful type.

The reply he got was a simple shake of the head. Inwardly, Kyras cursed, though he kept his disappointment masked. Though it was a bit tempting by now to empty the tankard before him. Instead, he just kept his hands busy by brushing strands of blonde hair from his brown eyes.

Ugh...for all he knew, the boy might not even be in Adela anymore.

If he was smart, he wouldn't be. Though, something told Kyras he'd still be here. How far could he go, anyway? It wasn't like the by could have much money at all on him. No, no, he wouldn't be getting far at all.

Tying not to sigh in annoyance, he took at seat at the bar and rested his elbows on the table. "Ah...well, if you do see someone like that, hold him for me. He's a damned runaway, and I am offering money in exchange for his safe return." Well, the barkeep knew nothing, but that didn't mean no one else here, did. And a little eavesdropping could often reveal a good bit of information. So, he turned his attention onto the other voices that filled the room.

[Anonymous]

Tirhion glanced up at the newcomer but quickly turned his attention back to the elvish woman in front of him.  "Are you in need of a guide?  Or perhaps someone to protect you as you travel through this territory...not everyone is as hospitable as this establishment toward those of our kind."  He emphasized his last word by drawing back his hood only far enough to reveal the point of one ear, and covered himself again, smiling kindly.

[Anonymous]

Jeral walked in, trying to shake off a nawing headache, and because of an advetise ment he saw in the town square. "Man, I need a job, some pipe weed, and a drink. Think I can get one of the three here." He walks torward where there seems to be alot of people, nods his head to the people there, then shifts his staff out of the way. "Excuse me, heard there's job here. Care if I can fill in the spot? Name's Jeral Strongblade, if that helps." he says to the man behind the bar.

[Anonymous]

"Niver hard of ye," the innkeeper replied good-naturedly.  "But then Oi've niver hard of a lotta ye in this here villige, me bein' newly open 'n all.  So yer name be Jeral Strongblade, eh?  Wut kin ye do, lad?  Kin ye keep a bar?  Or are ye mar fit fer larndry 'n piller-fluffin?"

[Anonymous]

"Not amazed. I can sling drinks, keep a bar, cook, do odds and ends, mop, be a bouncer if I have to. Perfer to sling drinks, though." Jeral says to the innkeeper. The man's accent throws him for a loop, but Sprian slang would throw everyone here for a loop, so he tries to refrain from using it.  He notices one person react to his name, the elven female. He takes some notice to it, but doesn't make a sign of it yet. "Hey, could be worse, you know."

[Anonymous]

"Oi cud use anathar barkeep, lad.  Ow bout it; try ye out 'n watch ye a bit?" the innkeeper said.  "Oh, tha name's Sam."  He stuck out his huge hand to shake that of the newcomer.

[Rhindeer]

[Hah! yes, finally got Kyras' character more ironed out. XD Um...I'm altering his appearance just a liiiittle.]

The tavern talk was boring Kyras; nothing new, nothing that he hadn't heard at a hundred other taverns, just the same old stuff. Tending to patrons, hiring new workers...

Typical boring, human things, and nothing like what he was looking for.

He gave a little sigh as he cradled his chin in his hand, one clawed fingertip tapping lightly against his marked cheek in thought, and a lock of wavy black and blonde hair fell across his eyes as he turned only slightly to glance over the other patrons one last time with those strange eyes of his. Indeed, under each brown and red eye, the color of the irises swirling and shifting oddly, were a series of small, black symbols that could easily be mistaken for tattoos, except they were natural. And indeed, in place of blunted human nails were nails that looked more like sharpened claws. Well, looked like it was on to the next location, whatever that might be. As much as his body just wanted to rest for the time being, finding he boy was more important than rest, and his body would just have to deal.

And this inn certainly wasn't revealing anything useful.

Yet, before he rose, there was still one last ditch effort to attempt, though he really doubted it would work; it had failed at all the other inns, and no one here resembled the child. Still, he was always one to leave no rock unturned. It was always best to never discount the unikely.

Idly watching the other patrons as though he really were interested, he muttered quietly to himself, his lips' movement hidden by his hand and words hidden by the myriad voices that filled the space. Get over here. Now. Still, if he were here, even if he couldn't see him or hear him, it should have some effect on the boy, though not a great one.

If he was here.

And so he watched the patrons, watching for any hint that his words had any effect.

And in is left hand he idly rolled a simple gold ring between his fingers, as if out of habit or idleness.

[Anonymous]

Lenrizel was well aware of Kyras' presence, but his attention was distracted by the conversation with the elven woman just slightly enough for Kyras' words to catch him off guard, even though he was not close enough to have heard them over the noise of the tavern.  As he covered the point of his ear with his cloak's hood, emphasizing something he had just said to Nahar, his conscious mind sensed the words being commanded and reacted accordingly.  Before he could deliberately refuse and mask how greatly the command drew every ounce of his being with wrenching power, Lenrizel's hand that was still raised in the act of drawing the cloak's hood back over his "elven" ear twitched with the reflex-like action, coming down inadvertently upon the table knife that was resting half on the table, half on his plate.  Not that the action was all that noticeable or did all that much harm--the wound was not even near mortal, though it was painful enough--but the shock of his hand hitting the knife made the tell-tale words of his actual native language come out of his mouth, and they certainly weren't in the accent he had been using throughout his entire conversations in the tavern.  Realizing what he had said (not out of the horror that he had almost uttered foul language in front of a woman, though under other circumstances he would have noticed that too, but that he had slipped up in his disguise and spoken in his native tongue), his eyes immediately went to those of Kyras, wondering how much the man had heard.

[Anonymous]

Nahar eyes shifted from side to side, trying to figure out what was exactly going on in this Tavern, but then gave up. She would only confused herself more, something that she didn't need right now. Her whole trip to Adela had been confusing enough for her.
Turning her attention back to Tirhion she replied with a smile, "It is very relaxing to see one of my own kind here! You see, I've only just traveled here, and back in my village we have no contact with any others. I can't read common, I dont know what half these buildings are even used for, and I have no idea what anything is even worth. I would be very grateful if you would just show me around, perhaps explain how this chaos of a town is run." She took a deep breath after her speech. Letting all her problems out at one time did indeed feel good. Taking another breathe she continued on. "I can pay you for your troubles, and as for protection, well.." she open her cloack up a bit, to reveal a sheathed sword, and a knife hanging by its side. "Lets just say I can prepared. Oh, also, what villiage did you come from? Perhaps I may have heard of it." She smiled again at him, flashing perfectly straigh white teeth.

[Rhindeer]

Had he heard?

He most certainly had. But what was more, he had seen. Scanning half-heartedly over the patrons after whispering his command, as though boredâ€"which he wasâ€"his eyes had been drawn abruptly to the sudden sound of a hand slapping a hard table, landing unfortunately on a knife, and he soon saw that the cloaked man was the source of that reaction. And the source of the cut-off but familiar words that followed. All too familiar words and an all too familiar accent.

Hmm.

What was more, the man glanced over at him, as though nervous, and for one instant their eyes met. And Kyras' lips curved slightly in a cool smirk as he took in those all too familiar green eyes, the whites of his fangs just visible as his lips parted a little. Well, wasn't this just fishy? And, now that he thought about it...he should have been suspicious of him from the get-go. The day was warm; what was someone doing going around with their cloak hood pulled up, and in a tavern? Never mind that there were some freaks out there that enjoyed playing "enigmatic" to make themselves seem tough or something. And never mind that this boy seemed to have black hair. Heh. Clever.

But he didn't walk over to the table at which he sat just yet. Instead, he swiveled slightly in his seat and listened openly to their conversation instead, elbow on his knee and hand cupping his chin like the conversation was the most interesting thing in the world. It really wasn't, and he paid only partial attention to the female's monologue, but from the few words he caught, it sounded quite cute. Too bad that little tour guide thing wouldn't happen. However, Kyras really did come to attention toward the end, and his smirk only broadened to a grin when the female got to the part about asking which village the boy came from. Oh, this should be rich. And highly amusing if his guess was correct.

"Yes, what village did you come from?" he spoke up suddenly, innocently inquiring as he rose from his seat finally and stepped a few paces their way. He left his cloak on his stool. "Your tongue sounds familiar to my ears, but I fear I can't quite place it." Then, with a bit of a malicious grin, his strange eyes narrowing slightly, added quite clearly, "Please, do tell me now where you just came from. I'm quite curious and wish to know. For that matter, you look familiar. Tell me, have we met?"

He moved casually, and took a seat at their table univited. Right next to the male "elf". Kyras always was the bold type, and right now, he was pretty confident in his hunch. If he was right...the answer he recieved should be pretty amusing, and hopefully a bit humiliating to the boy, and that would only be the start; oh that kid was in a whole world of trouble, and if Kyras was the empathic type, he might feel sorry for whatever punishment the boy would face. If he was wrong...well, he could just wing it and pretend he really was interested in whatever they were talking about.

[Anonymous]

Jeral shakes the hand of the Sam, then asks, "Before I start, can I go, like, out back? I gotta write something for someone and, um, need to do it away from people."

[Anonymous]

"Yeah, tis a'right wi' me," the innkeeper replied, pointing behind the bar.  "Thar's tha mos' direck way ta tha back door.  Outhouse too, if tha indoor facilities be full."  He went back to wiping down the bar.

[Anonymous]

Answering both their questions as he used his cloth napkin to stop the small trickle of blood from the cut on his hand, Lenrizel said in the accent he had first used before he hurt himself, "I am actually from Serendipity, and that is where I was born, but unfortunately through my travels as a merchant and apprentice to a seller of spices and tapestry, I learned to curse in other lands, and for my crudeness before a lady's ears I do apologize."  He held his right hand in his left for a few more seconds and then checked it to see if indeed the bleeding had stopped, and it had--it always seemed like the smallest wounds made so much fuss.

"I have currently gone on somewhat of a sabbatical at the moment," he continued, "but I am also looking for new wares to add to my stock back home.  That is what brought me here."  He stood and gestured  toward the door.  "I am finished with my meal, and unless you also need refreshment at the moment, we may be on our way, milady."  He made a polite bow of farewell to the stranger and awaited Nahar's response.

[Rhindeer]

His answer didn't faze Kyras. Perhaps he had found a loophole and was able to weasle out of it because the female had asked a similar question. Still, if anything, it was the way the boy was acting that kept the smile on his lips, his sudden desire to get away, even as he maintained his litle act. And Kyras was pretty sure it was an act; there was just far too much coincidence involved: the way he was dressed, his reflexive jerk when Kyras had murmured the command, the accent he'd slipped into, the way he'd kept looking over at him, the way he suddenly wanted to be away now, and now, as the boy stood foolshlyâ€"his height. Far, far too much coincidence...

Kyras stood as well. "Oh, really? A merchant. You know, I might be able to suggest a few places around here to look..."

And that was when the boy bowed. "...If you were a merchant to begin with, liar."

And when Kyras struck.

With a quick, snakelike action, his arm shot out and yanked the hood of the cloak back off the boy's head in a downward motion that bared the full length of his neck. And there it was, standing out plain as day against the boy's skinâ€"a small black tattoo at the base of his neck, a design of strange, geometrical symbols and lines that oddly resembled the marks under Kyras's eyes. Kyras had had the mark put on the boy, inked them into his flesh himself for good measure. And there they were. Just as he was assuming they'd be.

Well, hadn't this visit paid off nicely?

Kyras's fingers didn't release the cloak; instead, he gave the cloak a quick jerk to bring the boy closer to him, and his fingers curled up in he folds of the cloth, holding onto the boy possessively. He grinned mirthlessly, and the full length of his fangs showed clearly. "Well, well, well...isn't that just interesting. Heh, you are in so much trouble, boy, you can't possibly imagine..."

Looked like he'd just have to beat his spirit out of him when they returned "home". No, the boy wouldn't even so much as be able to look him in the eye when he was through with him. He'd gone easy on him before, but playtime was most definitely over, and it was time for him to start acting like the slave he was.

[Anonymous]

In an act of foolish desperation, Lenrizel snatched at Kyras' free hand, trying to retrieve the ring from his finger, but as soon as his hand touched the gold, such a shock went through him that he cried out in pain, his knees giving way.  He sank to the floor, still in Kyras' firm grasp, a defeated expression on his face.  He had known  that the attempt would be in vain, for while Kyras was conscious of the ring's presence on his finger, it would be impossible for Lenrizel to remove it.  That's why he hadn't tried to take the ring when he escaped several days ago; he didn't want to risk waking Kyras and spoiling what little chance at freedom he had, a chance that now was cut off abruptly.  As long as Kyras was aware of Lenrizel's proximity and remained awake, there would be no escape, not as long as Kyras possessed that cursed ring.

"I don't care what you do to me," Lenrizel dared to say.  "I will still refuse.  You may not have a conscience, but I do."  Not the greatest thing at that particular juncture to be declaring, but he let it out anyway.

[Rhindeer]

Kyras' eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance as Lenrizel grappled with him, but he knew what the result would be, and wasn't disappointed with the outcome. Lenrizel cried out in a pain that brought him to his knees, and Kyras watched him sink with satisfaction; there was no sympathy or even empathy in those odd eyes of his. Fool. Oh well. For the moment, at least, the boy looked defeated, if not submissive. That was a start.

"Don't be so dramatic. Get up. W'e're going home," he said calmly but sternly, and his hand moved to grip the back of his cloak and shirt's collar to pull him unceremoniously to his feet. Though, before they did go "home"...it looked like he'd just have to make a pit stop at the slaver's headquarters in this village and purchase a collar for the boy. If he couldn't behave himself on his ownâ€"and Kyras had given him that chance; not out of kindness, but simply because he was testing the boyâ€"then he'd just have to learn the hard way. Perhaps a few nights and days chained up to a tree would teach him some humility if slapping him around a bit didn't. Though, he imagined the more painful methods would work; if animals could be taught quickly that way, a human certainly could. If not, they were just as dumb as any other beast.

"You will care. Trust me. And I do have a bit of a conscience; I plan on letting you choose what color collar you wish to wear. Perhaps we can even get you a fancy one, like what poodles wear. Though most dogs are more well trained than you. That will change, though. Believe me." He smirked, and cooly brushed a strand of black and blonde hair behind his pointed ears. He could almost pass for one of elvish blood by his looks, if not for the fangs and clawed nails; he was far from elvish. "You aren't really in a position to refuse, I'm afraid.

"Now, you better start walking. You don't want me to drag you, and you know I will if I have to," Kyras warned, and without even looking at Nahar or making sure the boy complied, he started toward the tavern doors, still gripping the collar of Lenrizel's shirt and cloak firmly.

[Anonymous]

Let nobody tell you that a little eavesdropping is a bad thing, especially around a tavern. Sellion had paused to one side of the door of the "Rowan Tavern", and, setting down his oversized backpack, he listened intently to the sounds of a struggle within. Luckily, it was brief, and the cry of agony didn't seem death-like. Sellion was about to enter the tavern again when he overheard the brief comments which followed. At the mention of "collar", he lost his temper completely (coming after all from a half-animal race). He supposed he shouldn't interfere, but...what the heck. Pushing his thick glasses up on his narrow, sharp nose, he shouldered his backpack once more and paused in the doors of the tavern.

The slaveowner was evidently a vampire, or something like that. The elven appearance and fangs made that clear. Sellion had never actually met a vampire before; he assumed they were just "nursery bogies". Still, he held his ground.

"Sir," he said with the most irony he could muster for his 12 years, "don't you think slavery is a rather reprehensible and heinous practice?"