Alexis would likely be inclined to attend.  She's a mercenary officer and it would give her the opportunity guage her potential clients and adversaries.

With the drakonic man taking a place just to his right, Michael glanced down as two cards came to him.  It was only the initial deal so as he peeked at his cards, he found they told him very little.  Almost distractedly, he intoduced himself; "Michael...Wolfram.  Soldier of Fortune."

It seemed of those at the table, only Agnes and Viserquinn were also fighters by trade; the rest seemed to be merchants and craftsmen there for drinks and the game.  The girl would be the first to bet by the blond man fished some silver from his purse in anticipation for his ante...

@Pips

As the woman turned her attention to Michael, he was still shooing the livid looser away so that he might focus on his own drink and game.  The brute left as the mercenary sipped mead, a somewhat unusual drink he had come to favor...

Despite his profession, Michael was only loosely aquanted with the 'dialect' of sell-swords.  Still, the Guard's spies helped to keep him apprised of the goings on thoughout the Grand Duchy and he might guess at her meaning.  Shrugging, he said, "Fast as ever; could turn soon though, coming from the south west?"  He was guessing his reply as well, only hoping to imply the location of the Regiment and what it might do...

The Ash Guard could always do with allies; the muster was still ongoing and the the Colonel's plan's called for much...

The livid patron remained where he stood, glaring red-faced at the woman who took his coin as another large man nudged him aside.  This man was well dressed, clad in a thick green jacket under a stiffened vest of blue-black canvas.  The large man wheeled on the newcomer as if expecting a fight but the swordsman simply raised his free hand to signal peace.

"It's not in your best interest to pick fights here, friend," Michael advised, leaning by to set his own recently filled cup on the table.  "It's only money, after all."  The pale giant let his left hand come to rest on the pommel of his sword, a two-handed device with a long blade.  The apparent threat gave the suddenly impoverished man pause and a reason to step back.

Michael easily slid into his seat as another bout of players shuffled toward the woman's challenge.  He too fished out a handful of coin to stake on the game as he quipped, "It would be a shame to slow a lady's generosity."

Once he had done up the last button of his yellow doublet, Joshua was reluctant to pass through the improvised washing area but knew that staying and listening to Tara bathe would only fluster him further.  Talking a calming breath, the now dressed smith steeped back out, steeping toward the tub.  "I was going to see if there was work to do for the Guard..."

It was an awkward thing to explain in context but once said, Joshua made his stiff way toward the entrance...

Though she had leaned in close, Joshua could feel a moment's discomfort flow through Tara, made more obvious by her nudity.  This, combined with his own nervousness, guided the smith away, hands sliding up to her shoulders as he leaned back.  With a moment to think, the smith realized how unprepared he was and gave an awkward cough before turning way from his companion.

He was about as clean as he could be and said as much, rising out of the tub.  "I'll let you finish up..." he added before grabbing a thick towel and walking toward the divider, slipping into his quarters again.  He needed to dress, as well as calm himself down; he was turning somewhat red despite himself...

Despite the growing intimacy of their moment, a deeply pessimistic part of Joshua's subconscious told him that he should stop this.  His awkwardness was reveals in a sudden tension pulling through his naked back; he doubted Tara would fail to notice.

Still, she had kissed him.  It was a new experience and the smith was unsure how to respond - he was content to let the bare relax a moment.  Eventually, though, he turned, darkenning water churning around them as he came to face his companion, putting an arm around her waist.  It was a spur of the moment response as leaned in to return her intimate gesture.

It had been nearly two and half hours - give or take; Samuel did not have space in his home for a chronometer - since the assassin began to transcribe notes from the borrowed grimoire when the sound of movement creaked through the floor above him.  Unfortunate but not unexpected.  Not wanting his work to be discovered, he slipped a parchment into his own nondescript tome before tucking it amid his other volumes, and closed Allaeya's own book before heading upstairs.

Finding the girl by his garden window, the host walk up beside her.  He made no effort to hide his presence, so it was likely the dragon would have felt his approach through the floor.  "It's still early yet," he informed, examining the vial along side.  "Don't worry.  I wouldn't have let you miss it."  It was true enough and his own curiosity spurred him on; he wanted to see if this potion the girl had made would even work.

Turning away from Tara gave the smith a chance to obscure himself.  For all his emotional turmoil, he was able to easily drift though the rigors of his bath, using a handful of lather to wash most of himself, even kneading the substance into his scalp.  Gradually, the water darkened as the soap pulled more and more dirt away form their skin and hair.

Still, his mind ventured toward awkward fantasies that took every ounce of discipline to try and ignore.  The pair likely had other things to do that day and remaining too absorbed by this intimacy...Joshua quickly forced his thoughts elsewhere.

Michael's reply seemed non-committal as he simply shrugged at the child's incredulity.  "Wouldn't anyone?"  Perhaps their usual misfortune's had tainted their understanding of even vague kindness.  Though it might have had to do with him being a mercenary...Either way, he could not force them to accept aid, no matter how misplaced their concerns.

A more simply dressed man had just entered the tavern, making his way to their table.  Michael recognized him as a fellow Guard, specifically, one of the Jaeger scouts.  He had news to relay and quickly bent to the Lt.Colonel's ear.  It appeared that the scouts had raided a shipment of gunpowder headed toward the capital; this was good news as it gave Wolfram an excuse to head directly back to camp.

Retrieving his beret from the seat next to him, Michael fixed the urchin with an appraising stare.  "Duty calls but if you change your mind, by offer stands.  Meet us by the south gate around  dawn and I'm sure we can find some work for you."  With that he began to leave, needing to make arrangements for an early start.  The scout seemed mildly confused but had little cause for question.

The small stand for the alchemic took almost no time and before long the host was returning.  He soon found the girl where he had left her; it seemed Allaeya had slumped down against the wall, unable to remain standing as sleep took her.

There was a brief dilemma regarding his next choice, but the assassin crouched down, scooping her up to carry the girl upstairs.  She would be more comfortable there in the long run...but really, it would give him greater security as he rifled through her grimoire.  After all, that was his reward for helping her, regardless of the dragon's opinion of him.

If she woke, she would find herself laying across a settee, Samuel having crept downstairs to look over the ancient work...

Joshua did his best to focus on only the most immediate task, rubbing the soap against Tara's skin using the brush to drag out the grime of their earlier journey.  He first cleaned the areas that Tara would likely have difficulty reaching and move outward.  She could stop him at any time but it seemed she was content to let him work.

Still, he had expected he to handle her own...front, and was at a loss when it seemed his chosen task seemed half done.  Before long, though, the smith reached for a nearby bowl and scooped water against the bards to rinse away the filth, before offering the simple cake of soap to Tara.  "Could you get my back, too?" he asked, though he secretly hoped a reversal in their position would put her at ease.

As the articles arrived as his place, Khosrawi closed his eyes against the din of the room as the vultures began to circle.  Most did not have the Prince's supernatural foresight and hedged on both sides of the deal.  But the seer saw a myriad of outcomes, some he could change and others that he had no need to.

He could easily cover the initial buy in but decided to low-ball his interest; he demanded 16 percent interest, plus 5 percent per day accrued after an as of yet unspecified date - most likely the expected date of arrival.  He scratched this all onto his own blank sheet before tapping his stylus to his lips.  Long-view deals were not beyond the understanding of most Essyrni but Parsa did take the concept to the extreme.  He wanted the foreign Gryphon to come back for more; a long term partnership that proved reliably lucrative for both parties...

This demanded the success of the venture.  He thought to offer the services of his private cavalry to aid in the security of the caravan but know that untested private protection might be taken as an unnecessary hazard coming from a society that treated greed as a virtue.  Instead as he blotted the ink, sketched in a common trade language rather than Essyrni, Parsa elected to send his men along in secret as it was often easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

Rereading his offer a few more times, Khosrawi eventually passed the document to the assistant as the youth collected the offers from the other merchants.

It really was crazy: a seemingly helpless waif was a prime target for marauders and the like, and it was unlikely they would simply let an easy target walk by simply by looking poor.  The war drew resources away from internal security so the danger of such outlaws was growing increasingly prevalent.

Finishing his drink, the tall mercenary fixed the child with an almost chastising look.  "You know how dangerous it is to go alone."  It was not a question so much a statement of fact, an assertion that they knew better.

The harshness of the warning drained away quickly as he shifted his aim.  "If you must know, the Ash Guard have camps dotting southwest Vythe.  You'll know us by our banners; green and yellow with crossed rifle and spear..."  Though he fully intended to allow the begger to travel with them when the time came...

Connlaoth

---

Joshua Fischer, Metalurgist: Connlaothian blacksmith and fire magus, combining his supernatural powers with local science.  Unknown parentage...

Karl Martin Gustav Mandel, Heir of Eisenmark: Connlaothian lord and knight.

Ingrid Sauer, Fencing Instructor: Fencing master and gang leader in the city of Reahj.  Willing to accept just about anyone as a student, so long as they know when to shut up and to do as they're told.

Essyrn

---

Parsa Khosrawi, Merchant Prince: Merchant, financier, clairvoyant.  Investments are almost guaranteed to bear fruit.  Dreams of the futures of Essyrni civilization and does not like what he sees...

Zahara ult Makhia, Gladiatrix: Slave and swordswoman, force to fight in the arena.

Zantaric

---

Samuel Nevin, Manhunter: Demonlord assassin.  Operates out of the Free city but willing to travel for work, he studies potential pray before agreeing to any contract.

Wanderers and Independants

---

Alexis Mandel, Mercenary: Former child of privilege and later, a White Lily deserter.  Now the Colonel of a mercenary regiment with a strong sense of justice.

Michael Wolfram, Mercenary: Mandel's Second-in-Command.

Leenan NicFiacc, Pirate: Freelance adventurer...

Joshua acknowledged the bard's intent, muttering, "Right; of course," before letting go.  The smith turned away for a moment, evading the moment of humiliation while also retrieving the soap round, as well as a palm-sized brush, from the nearby stool.

Nervously, the smith shifted back so that he could sit facing Tara as he began to build a lather with the supplies.  "I-if you turn around, I can reach your back," he offered.  There were other tools as well: combs and a hair-brush, ear-spoons, nail-picks, -trimmer and file to name a few...

That aside, the pair's mutual nudity pushed Joshua to hurry, lest his interest be revealed unnecessarily....

Alexis smiled at the gesture, planting a black boot on the foot board as she rose to join her new host, slipping into a seat opposite the girl.  What little hight advantage she had vanished as the door closed after her.

The Colonel's own bodyguards (as one had been mostly out of sight) fell into step with those protection the Duke's scion as the party prepared to depart.  Despite her family wealth and standing, Alexis had remarkably little experience when dealing with actual nobility.  She did not let a hint of her trepidation show however as she remarked, "So, Your Grace...Is there anything I should keep in mind as we approach your home?  I would hate to offend such a...pedigreed family."  It was hard to say if she was being cautious with her relatively formal wording...

(OoC: Retconned rank to "Colonel" rather than 'captain')

((@Rhindeer - Due to inactivity, I will be removing this topic from my watchlist.  If you would like to bring back this topic, please PM me))

His foe had not reacted quickly enough to stop the nearly telegraphed stab that tore out the side of his skull and the archer found the swordsman wiping his blade clean on the dead man's shirt.  Once content the blade would not be fouled by the red fluid, leaned it against his shoulder as Tatiana confronted him.

It seemed she had not been informed of the presence of the mercantile commandos and the warrior simply shrugged at the inconvenience.  "Michael Wolfram; Ash Guard."  He gave a slight bow with his introduction before giving glance over his shoulder.  "That said, it might be a bad idea to linger here; my men can hold off pursuit for only so long without declaring full scale war on the city."  And the the pay had not been enough to risk a suicide mission, though he chose not to say as much.

Another of the Jaegers came jogging toward the alley and shared a knowing nod as he scouted the broad street; his own sword was drawn and bloody, a red smear inside his elbow revealing his attempt at cleaning his own blade.  "I might have a place to lie low 'til things die down, but it's a bit far."  Pointing to the guard the woman had killed, he added, "Might want something better than that pig-sticker, now that you have the option."  He was referring to the plain looking, 2-pound sword at her feet.

Good to have you back, Spice.

So, for the record, I've made some changes to my roster of Connlaothians since my last post...

Joshua Fisher is a professional gunsmith and secret fire mage who might be convinced to support any resistance movements (he is the primary supplier of arquebuses to the AshGuard)

Alexis Mandel and Michael Wolfram are both leaders of a mercenary regiment called the Ash Guard.  It's not a guild so much as a personal resource I may be inclined to share with the war effort; they were originally loosely inspired by German Landsknecht though I'm leaning more toward a gun-focused structure now...  Either way, I'm looking to get them aligned against the Grand Duke, which should not be too difficult with the right offer (not sure what that should be yet).

Samuel caught Ally's motion.  She very much was tired, but clearly resistant to the idea of respite.  "Why?  You've had a stressful day.  None of this will be going anywhere.  I can wake you when things are ready."

However, the assassin made no move to press the issue, heading up to his garden to arrange his trapped station.  He took his time, hoping it would give the girl time to slip into a light nap; hoping she would let her defenses fall so he might leave through the tome at some leisure...