Against the Night

[Xavier Akafur]

As Neshar detached the shelving, a small nook would become revealed. Contained within, rather than treasure as he may have hoped, was simply a neatly kept bundle of letters, a pen knife, and some strange bronze sphere about the size of an apple. The shuffling outside the room slowly grew louder as another one of the staff bustled past, their footsteps receding into the distance after a tense few seconds.

The sphere seemed to be a mundane object, inert of any magic, with what one may guess to be some sort of unusual keyhole punched into one side. The letters, if quickly glanced over, were correspondences sent to and from Lord Mayheu, the Lord of the villa he was now raiding and somebody named (or possible aliased) as Forjmeir. They would need some proper reading to decipher, as most of the letters are written cryptically and reveal little at a glance.

-----------

Xavier watched Nemael veritably storm off with a look of mild confusion, edged with concern. That was never a good sign for a fledgling alliance, tensions must be higher than he had thought, at least where that peculiar fellow was involved. He looked back to Camille and just shrugged helplessly.

"I've yet to quite figure him out." he said casually when the other was out of earshot. "However, I am grateful for the help... from both of you." He added, his gaze shifting to where Mort and Drake had moved some distance away. They had gathered quite a group in such a short amount of time, and he suspected that would accrue its own problems in due time, interpersonal issues not the least of which.

He took a moment to size up the Jackal now that he had seen him in action, noting the strange beads that seemed to shift in the light. Perhaps Camille was not so abrasive to Xavier's sensibilities because he was used to the boasting confidence, an attitude often held by sailors and adventurers, the two types of people he was around most often. The healer was certainly a handy one to have around, and while Xavier detected that bravado may be a hint to some other traits, he was far from one to judge.


In a way, he also could see himself getting along well with Nemael, if he could get the pensive fellow to talk to him. In what he had overheard of his conversation with Mort, both the bully and the shift-mage had personalities that ran much deeper than first appearances. That alone was an endearing quality for the hybrid, who had a tendency to shy away from one dimensional people.


He rolled his shoulder slowly, looking down at his injured arm, the throbbing pain drawing his thought back to the present situation. He began to untie his coat, the fabric falling loose. As it did, those of keen perception would notice that the coat seemed to be slowly lightening, the blood stains receding ever so slowly and revealing more and more clean fabric. It was a minor enchantment, but one that was invaluable to anyone in Xavier's line of work that wished to EVER look presentable for more than a few moments a day. Adventuring had never been described as a clean profession.

A fresh few drops of blood stained the vibrant blue as his arm shifted loose of the sling, and the hybrid, to his credit, showed no outward signs of the pain. The beasts teeth had done a number on him, though it seemed as though the acid had done far more. The tears into his flesh were deep, a few bits of skin hanging like ribbons along his fore-arm, the muscle clearly damaged... possibly even the bone. "I've felt worse, but i can't say that I've looked it." Xavier grumbled, his fingers on his injured arm twitching slightly, blood flowing in tiny rivulets from where the wound had not been cleanly sealed. A good bit of his flesh was seared as well, though from the self-inflicted firebolt or the beast's acid it was hard to tell. His whole arm glowed a very faint white, revealing that he had been pouring magic into his arm this entire time... possibly why he had not been writhing in pain the whole way back.

"You mentioned the tavern, do we need to be near it for your magic to work?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

[Cyril]

"My tongue is my sharpest blade." He responded to Xavier's look. His statement was very matter of fact, not exactly regretful. His statement was far from incorrect; he was a charmer to some, and a serpent to others. At the rate he was going with the group, it seemed he was giving off much more of the serpent than the charmer.

The sharp temper and internal reactions of Namael did draw some amusement and plenty of curiosity from Camille, though. Even if the other was repulsed by the jackal, Camille was very interested in further communication with most he'd met that day, especially since his slight conversation had basically been him showing the negative parts of himself. Part of his family and something he internally blamed on his species was that, while Camille could talk well when given the opportunity, he wasn't good at calling attention to himself in a positive manner. Probably why the Aelius had chosen to keep by the political sidelines.. It wasn't something Camille had thought to actually delve into.

His attention turned back to Xander after his mind wandered a bit. He took off his cloak, and removed the coverings Xavier had placed. His eyes up at the hybrids as the fabric tightly wrapped and soothed over the wound. "You can stop using your energy, now.. I can bide the pain, but I need to be around people to heal such a severe wound fully; and with most of our group gone, the tavern is quite the ideal spot. But we can do this in the corner, of course.. We don't have to draw attention, I just need to.. Well, that's just how it works." He grumbled lowly as his hands gripped other parts of Xavier's arm and then his gaze looked over the rest of him.

The material over the hybrid felt like a cold gauze against him, and the hybrid was easily able to feel heat from his arm being pulled by the cloak; which the jackal had kept a grip on as the pair walked near the tavern. Very slow, but evidently occurring, Camille used the cloak to sample Xavier's life energy; mostly to assess how much the hybrid had to himself at the moment.

He would have to wait until they were around a larger mass of life to pour back the energy he had sampled, and to heal over the wound.

[tangletail]

Neshar’s brows furrowed a bit as he sifted up the assortment of letters. A frown curled his lips as he quickly flicked through them. He quickly took note of the two names. Lord Mayheu, and Forjmeir. The last name doesn’t ring a bell, but at least the first one did give him a bit more information he could use to ask around town with if he so chose.

“It seems Lord Mayheau is a bit more careful than I thought…” Neshar murmured to himself, opening up one of the letters carefully. His eyes glanced over the writing, but he soon found himself being both amused and frustrated. “Heh, definitely paranoid. It’s no thieves cant, but I’d wager I can figure it out.”

The thief contemplated bagging the letters. But he hesitated for a moment. Stealing the orb would be one thing. But stealing letters would cue off a professional. The feline slowly raised a thumb to his lips, and began to think. In fact… just stealing one thing would set  off a few too many alarms. But…. lifting that out of here in the middle of the day will be difficult. And the missing items would be way too hot to fence off. The feline sighed and decided to take a risk. At least this benefits him… if what he has is important there would be quite a fit thrown.

He quickly bagged both the letters and the bronze orb, before standing up. He purposely left the bottom shelf on the floor to hint to the lord of the intrusion. He was about to turn around and leave through a nearby window… till he spotted something interesting on the wall. A painting. It wasn’t his favored artist. But the craftsmanship on it looked quite amazing. He approached it carefully, examining it. Every stroke was made meticulously. An obvious attention of detail was taken, but each brush stroke still had an expressive quality behind it. There was a natural movement in it… but the feline didn’t have time to completely appreciate the work of art.

The sounds of distant footsteps was his only final hint that he was pushing his luck. And so… with a deft hand, he quickly lifted a razor from his vest and cut the painting free from it’s frame. He carefully rolled it up and slipped it away into a small bag. And out the window he went. He still had a particular otter… zombie… wolf thing  to visit later.

---

Once again, dressed in his usual civilian get up… plus one vagabond's cloak Neshar stumbled through the tavern’s door aimlessly. His collar only partially exposed, on purpose. Most of it’s patrons didn’t pay him any mind. And those who did only bothered to spare a glance.

He gestured over the owner of the establishment, and waited for her to come close. When she did, the feline pulled her close. A sly but friendly grin on his maw.

“There are two gents outside. A colorful otter, and an Anu whom looks like he’s got a silver tongue. Send em to straight to a room, my good madam,” The feline hummed in a hushed tone. His hand moved to clasp her’s, playfully handing over a hefty bag of coins. A hefty bribe.

The woman gave the feline a skeptical look.

“No worries! I’m not a stabby person!” the feline mused with a broader grin.

“What room?”

“A room with a window facing north, and no other direction!”

The feline watched her look at him with a…. puzzled look. But she got the message and nodded. She left, leaving him be… where he just slumped onto the table like a tired oaf.

[Xavier Akafur]

Xavier nodded, and the magic he was summoning to heal his arm faded slowly. It went against his instincts to allow a wound that serious to go without aide, but he trusted Camille enough that he did not fear this to be a ruse, and he knew the man was good on his word that he could keep the pain in check. Xavier did not consider himself weak by any means, but a wound such as that with no magical numbing or healing actively working on it would likely incapacitate him from pain alone. As it were, during the very short transition he grit his teeth together as the pain flared slightly, only to be immediately dampened again.

He gave the jackal a smile, suddenly seeming much more tired and mortal than he had appeared just seconds ago. Apparently maintaining that level of healing magic had nearly exhausted him. No wonder, too, after such a dramatic fight not an hour prior. He pushed open the door of the bar with his good arm, allowing the other male to walk in before him, making sure not to break contact with that cloak... which was certainly exhibiting some sort of magical properties.

"You don't need to fully heal that wound if it would drain you too much. Just do what you can and I will tend to it over the next day or two to make sure it heals right." He mentioned, talking about it as casually as one  might discuss dinner plans. Speaking of... "Miss, a room for myself, two ales and two of whatever you have to eat tonight." he said, motioning to Camille. "Just so I don't feel TOO indebted to you." The hybrid explained as the woman, who seemed entirely fed up with her job, went to fetch the order.

[Cyril]

Once they were in the middle of the tavern and Xavier was speaking to the barmaid, Camille gripped the cloak as it visibly shrouded itself in the arm in darkness. The jackal almost drooled from the peak of energy before he transferred in a fair amount to heal it.. His ears perked as he almost dropped the hybrid's arm; shaking his head and regripping it. The energy he'd sampled from the hybrid, once compared to the raw life force of the room around him, felt synthetic, but not quite in the way that an undead would. The dark covered his arm for a good moment as he partially ignored Xavier and the barmaid. Xavier wouldn't feel pain just yet, but he would feel the tugging and pushing of energy from and to his arm.

In a court, it was much easier to heal in front of large densities of people. But then again, they understood everything Camille was doing. The random strangers probably didn't feel great about seeing magic take place within the bar, but it would happen regardless. After a few minutes, the light returned to the area where Xavier's arm was, a sharp pain ran through it as Camille removed his cloak and replaced it over himself.. Leaving behind the arm as it was before the battle. The sharp pain rang for a good second before fading. Camille looked towards the barmaid. "Add on a bottle of brandy."

With his battery no longer supercharged; Camille felt a crash and grunted lowly, visibly a lot less playful than before.

The woman crossed her arms impatiently at the pair.
"What a flamboyant pair you are. Last room on the left," She then moved to grab a bottle as Camille waited a bit demandingly, also filling the two glasses of ale. Camille's eyes gazed around the tavern as she spoke, "Anu and mixes aren't here often, best not cause any trouble." She warned, the jackal's eyes narrowing upon her.

"Don't use that term." He took the bottle and reached down his own robe; yanking out a few coins and slamming them upon the counter in a rather temperamental manner. The slam was audible, however was far from the loudest noise in the tavern as jackal took his glass and bottle of brandy. He looked to Xavier, and then noticed Namael on the other end of the bar. "You should tell him, I'm going to the room and am hopefully getting plastered.. When you follow, I have a few questions for you."

Camille walked to the room the barmaid had pointed out earlier, opening the door and finding a lump on the table. He groaned lowly and shut the door, noticing there was only one bed and chair. He looked to the familiar lump and grunted while undoing the bottle and proceeding to drink down a fair amount; washing it down with some ale. "So, to what do we owe the reacquaintance?" He said rather crankily, looking at Neshar and taking a seat on the chair, continuing to take idle sips of the brandy from the bottle. "It's better to not... Mysteriously disappear after a battle."

[tangletail]

Neshar stirred a bit when he heard the door open. His eyes cracked open, letting in a small amount of filtered lamplight before he slowly rose. His arms streatching out as he yawned. Soon they dropped, and he looked at the Anu with a dull gaze. His tongue flicking across his lips for just a brief moment.
 
He kept the stare for a few more seconds… till his awareness finally snapped back in place. The feline’s stance immediately perked up. Ears standing tall, and eyes wide open. His cloak was suddenly flung across the room as he soon produced a decanter of wine from under the table along with a few glasses.
 
He was dressed in the same combat outfit he had on previously. With the main differences being that his cowl was down, his mask had been hooked onto his shoulder. And his makeshift bandage had been replaced with proper coverings.
 
He flicked his tail at Camille in a half-hearted gesture of “Psh-aw” in response to his off hand comment.


“Sorry bout that handsome~ Sleep’s not somethin that comes easily to me. Now for my disappearance? Well let’s say I couldn’t really trust ya. That’s also something hard to come by in my profession.” The feline hummed in a humorous tone as he poured two glasses of wine. He left one empty, seeing that his acquaintance had been kind enough to bring his own drink to the table.  He was a peculiar rogue. Instead of talking like some shady recluse with a dark past, he spoke with a very open and lilting manner.

The feline set the bottle down at the center of the table and leaned back in his chair. His tail flicking slowly about on the ground. “And now? Well let’s say I felt like being a friendly rogue! Mmph, Friendlier.” He gave the other a warm smile. But then the smile faded as his mind wondered.
 
“Though I can never get the pleasantries quite correct. Spend a life in the shadows and a knife becomes your wife, and companions are forever in strife. Now if my etiqute is correct. I offer my name? So… Neshar at your service!~”

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 After everyone parted ways, the bully did the same turning from the others to make his way to town hall as the bounty board had instructed. He only paused upon hearing one of the mages asking him to wait – at least someone wanted their bounty, it would seem. He looked over his shoulder with a lopsided grin upon seeing the other, “And here I thought I'd be the only one collecting,” he said in attempts to be friendly. “I wish I could let coin slip by as easily as the others, but alas, there are expenses for traveling.”

[Drakeyboy]

Drake chuckled to the bullie's comic reply. "Something i can vouch for. But hey at least there is more for us!" He joked back. The others probably wanted some coin too but they were aiding the injured so they just couldn't come. He would have aided too but you know the saying too many cooks spoil the recipe. Drake hung his hands o from the sides of hus pockets and looked the bully over getting a good look on him noticing the odd mixture of features. He missed the otger discussion that he had with Nemael so he was a little out of the loop. "Huh... " was all he said to not insult the large blood fuelled Mort.

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 “I figure we can bring it all back and split it between those that want it, yeah?” Perhaps it was generous, but without all of the party, he doubted that he could have taken the beast so easily. Besides, he was already getting more than he had planned to as it were – there was no use in being greedy. With the way he operated, his words were more of a plan of operation than a request of opinion.

 
Turning his sights forward, he continued walking, swiveling his ear to the side in case the foxcoon had anything else to say, though when Mort caught wind of the small 'huh' he couldn't help but repeat it back with a slight change to his inflection. “Huh?” he asked, partially curious as to what it was that had caught the other's attention.

[Xavier Akafur]

"Ouch." Was all the response the jackal got immediately, the hybrid saying the word with no real conviction, though his jaw visibly clenched.

"As you wish. I'll keep you informed as to what is discussed, of course. I owe you that much at least." Xavier dipped a small nod at the canine as he stood up and wandered off, waiting till he was out of sight before shooting the bar maid a confused look. "While I appreciate the hospitality of giving my friend a room, if you intended for us to share it.... that's not quite what I asked for." He said, shaking his head and waving the woman away. With the way she acted it would be easier to steal a room than to argue with that woman.

He flexed his arm absently, the memory of pain still fresh in the muscles, and went over to sit near Nemael, who had been sitting unnoticed some distance away. "Since our charming hostess gave my room key to Camille, I suppose I'll have to wait on getting cleaned up." He had already gotten several uncomfortable stares from those in the bar, though by now hopefully the crusty brown stains looked as much like mud as what it truly was. "So what brings you here? Most of the others appear to simply be passing through. Is this the case for you as well?" He inquired, lifting a brow. There was a soft rustle of fabric as the mage tossed his coat back on, pulling it snugly onto his shoulders and working out the fabric until it sat smoothly against his fur. He seemed to take some sort of comfort in the act, as if it were a habit that he had developed over some time.

It was about then that the two meals he had ordered were sat down, the hybrid having forgotten to forestall his other companion for the food... he had simply gotten his bottle of brandy and wandered off. "Oh... well I suppose that other plate is yours if you want it." Xavier chimed, taking a small sip of the ale to make sure it was tolerable. You never knew in a chincy little place like this. His eyes turned to scan the door for sings of their missing members, but nothing just yet.

[Eden-H]

Nemael eyed the proffered meal with a look of suspicion and longing, the corners of his muzzle drawing into a subtle and disappointed frown. Even though the smell was incredibly enticing and he wished to eat alongside the hybrid, he instead pushed the platter away. He concluded it would either be saved for another ravenous party member or left for the man in case he needed more than one meal, given the battle they had left only moments before. "One of the few times a freezing river would come into use," he responded, his voice coming out flat. Whether it was meant as a joke or a serious statement was up to Xavier to decide. "For your question, many things."

Resting an arm on the table, he propped his cheek on an open palm and turned more fully towards him. However, his gaze did not remain steadily on Xavier and instead followed the movements of the various patrons, some sauntering about the room proudly while others remained slouched at their tables. He even briefly watched the woman that had served the meals and room key, his frown deepening with every person he looked upon. "Information and history are my main goal," he murmured. "My brother, the one who was here earlier, is helping me to that end. Though most people are frightened by him, it also makes them more willing to divulge certain things they would not have given so lightly. Mainly because they want him gone."

Smirking ever so slightly, his attention was suddenly caught by the apothecary from earlier walking in; but unlike their first interaction, his posture read as less closed off and more... excited? Nemael was not entirely sure, watching as he walked with the proverbial spring to his step. His shoulders were squared and a wide grin masked his gaunt face, making his cheeks appear even more shallow than before. He tracked him until the man sat down and excitedly ordered something from their hostess. His hands flapped about as he gesticulated each word. With an embarrassed grimace, Nemael cleared his throat and returned his attention to Xavier, deciding he had read the man incorrectly from their first meeting. "Yourself?" he suddenly said.

[Ryan Naismith]

After the battle, the arbalest had gone his own way, leaving the witcher to wander around town for an hour or so. He was quite glad for the magic that had been used on him; if a swallow potion had not been consumed almost immediately after his eye was effected, he likely would have lost it. He also regrets staying on the sideline like he did, but he knew it had to be done. After all, if you make many snap, precision judgments in a fraction of a second, it helps to have depth perception. After meditating by his horse for about half an hour, he stood. He had hoped the swallow potion that he had brewed earlier would have worked, but it did not. granted, he was in quite a bit less pain, but his eye had not healed in any way shape or form. so he stood. This town might not be the biggest one, but it was large enough to have the castle of a noble, so it was not some small village or hamlet. So they would likely have an alchemist. He had also fashioned a makeshift, cloth, eye patch out of some rope and sterilized linen, just in case his magical one failed. With that, he walked over to the castle, humming some small tune a peasant had taught him.
"Right." he said as he walked in "I need nightshade, a pint of Alcohest, four Sewant mushrooms, five berbercane fruit, and some wolfsbane." The clerk nodded his head, and walked into the back room, quickly coming back with the rest of the requesteed ingredients. Silas knew exactly how much this would cost, so he placed the required amount of crowns onto the counter, plus a little extra for inflation, and to be a little generous. Friends never hurt, especially ones that give you herbs.
The expert monster hunter turned around, spreading his ingredients out on the alchemy table.
First, he readied the mushrooms, squeezing out their juice, and pouring it into the mixing bowl.
Second,He put the nightshade and wolfsbane together, grinding them up in the mortar.
Next, Silas made careful cuts in the berbercane fruit, to remove the seeds. After doing so, he squeezed the juices into the bowl with the sewant mushroom juice. He gave the juices a few minutes to mix and settle, pouring them into a flask after that. Then, he poured the powdered wolfsbane and nightshade into the flask, shaking them around for a few minutes after that, to allow the ingredients to ssaturate the solution.
They weren't truly mixed, however, and that is where the alcohest comes in. He carries his incomplete potion into the "danger room" (amny alchemists have such a thing; some potions can be quite volatile), and poured the alcohest into an automated, sand powered (like an hourglass), to drip the potion into the mixture ever-so slowly.
The potion that he made, was called "Hawk", and it was supposed to help with the vision in his eyes. With any luck, it should give him depth perception back.

[Drakeyboy]

Drake looked up as he was called out. Maybe he shouldn't have made a sound in the first place. "Oh nothing concerning. I just finally got a got look at you. And... well you got quite a mixture." He then sighed right after displeased with his choise of words. He should have just shut up while he was ahead. Well it's not like it's a random stranger so he simply hoped he wouldn't get frustrated or insulted.

[Xavier Akafur]

Xavier watched the unusual male, unable to entirely hide his curiosity and interest in his actions. As he pushed the food away the hybrid's gaze shifted down to the plate of food before himself, carefully plucking up a carrot between his claws and popping it into his maw.

"You seem unhappy." He commented idly, though he remained otherwise silent as Nemael's gaze wandered the room. Xavier was seemingly content to eat his meal quietly, the hybrid picking deliberately selected pieces of food off of the plate and eating them one at a time. Once he could no longer simply pluck up vegetables with his claws, he grabbed the nearby fork and began using the utensil to tear off small bits of meat from what appeared to be about half of a chicken. His eyes only returned to the man when he spoke up, the mage's expression kept carefully neutral.


Nemael was a clever creature, and no doubt would pick up on how Xavier's casual demeanor was carefully kept in place, masking his true personality to all but the most receptive. It was difficult to ever tell what he was really thinking. "I'm looking for something dangerous." Came the cryptic response, the hybrid smiling playfully, the expression not quite reaching his hawk-like eyes.

"I'm not sure if you heard but I'm a treasure hunter by trade. It's something suited to my talents." He began, pausing as if considering his words. "However, my true aim is to gather magical artifacts and ancient powers that may otherwise cause trouble... the treasure hunting is just a side-gig. I sell off whatever items I happen across that aren't particularly powerful or useful to me." He motioned to the wall, the direction of the forest. "That hound creature... monsters of that power do not simply just appear without reason. In my experience they are attracted to the magical energy radiated by such artifacts as those I seek. I've been following a lead that such an item had surfaced here.... and I think our earlier battle confirms this."

The mage settled back in his seat, his cheerful expression fading to a more serious visage. "I tell you this because I do not fear that you seek power for yourself, as some of the others may... to them, for now, I shall remain a greedy treasure hunter, lest they get the notion to go after what I seek." The way his mouth twisted made it clear that any attempt to do so would not be taken kindly. "I would not even be telling yourself if I did not have a need for companions I can trust. If this artifact is guarded by more monsters on par with that Hound... I'd surely die on my own."

He raised his brow in a kind of facial shrug and returned to eating, a smile slowly taking the place of his true expression once more. "So what information are you seeking?"

[Cyril]

"That's fine, doll.." Camille grunted before continuing to drink his brandy. Visibly a bit more inebriated and sighing in a state of content, he placed his elbow on the chair and leaned his chin on it. The healer, although the youngest of the group; had quite the fondness for liquor.

"But the problem is, surely someone who is so talented and trained in the art of shadows could escape the light, no?" He laughed and looked to Neshar with his gaze narrow and focused. "One who lies about their identity upon first arrival shouldn't be speaking of trust. It's hard to expect to be able to trust others when you do not place trust in them.." He laughed and then traced his eyes over the creature's figure, humming quietly as he read over what life energy he could from him.

"I do hope your wounds were insignificant," He shifted his gaze away after a moment, pouring the rest of his brandy into the glass. "The name is Camille, and with my personality causing trouble; giving away too much of my power wouldn't be wise of me.." He words began to slur slightly, although the jackal remained fairly coherent, mostly sipping upon the ale more than the brandy.

"Trust is a very finicky thing. If anything, it's easier to be friendly when waltzing in from the shadows. Those of us who walk the path of light have much more trouble drawn to us, so we learn to thrive from it." He rambled slightly before sighing and running a hand through his hair, pulling it back with a grunt. "But it's all right. Disappearing probably saved you the tongue lashing I could've delivered. So tell me, Mr... Neshar... Why is it you're waiting in the room. Pleasantries aside, people always have goals." His muzzle cracked into a smirk as his gaze placed itself back upon the creature in the room; back to its piercing default.