RP:A Fox, A Vampire, And An Ice Genasi Walk Into A Bar ...

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: On a whim, three females are drawn toward the Hanging Corpse Tavern; one in search of work, one in search of solace, and one in search of a lead. After an accent-delivered riddle draws the attention of the first two unto the third with greedy eyes, the quest for answers begins. Talene departs after a reticent exchange with Eleanor with one thing in mind: finding a location to whatever remained of the Assassin's Guild headquarters. Eleanor then arranged to meet with the Emilia again in the future under different circumstances to allow the unallied co-leaders to share information in private before they too parted ways.

The Hanging Corpse Tavern, Vailkrin

Emilia slid into the tavern with a limp to her, the weight being placed upon her right leg was much less than that of her left, the visible stitches in the back of her calf from what appeared to be a massive animal bite being the cause. Nearly her entire calf was filled with a series of stitches. The healer came dressed in a spring gown that fell to the top of her knees, a satchel slung over her shoulder, a dark wooden bow with quiver filled with red feathered arrows, and nothing upon those tiny bare feet which left behind frosted prints. Tired, too tired she couldn’t keep all her chill in check tonight. It was not just the limp that set Emilia apart from those normally gathered or to be found within this city, but her odd coloring and arctic chill that emitted from her child sized body. Vampires were pale with a deathly color. The Genasi was as white as a snow bank on a sunny day with wild curls knee length curls bouncing with every gimped movement. Too white, she was too white to fit into a city full of pale vampires. Step, gimp, Step, gimp the tiny woman went on her way toward the bar looking for a drink. The Co-leader to the Healer’s Guild, a most public face did this woman have, had been spending the last day since her trip back into this town in the library reading away and was in high need of a break, no better place to go than here. With a bit of a jump Em managed to get herself up into a bar stool, silly things made for people of the average height, with a loud exhaled huff. A wave of a gloss black hand toward Steadman before she placed an order for a dark moonshine. However, her small size of a child with frail thin body did nothing to persuade the man into giving her a drink of such nature, especially being not of this town. “Are you friggin’ serious?!” the Genasi burst out after her request was denied, with it came a sudden rush of a Winter wind gusting through the tavern and out the door as it opened with another’s entrance.

Talene had been content to nurse a whole bottle of the bloodwine served here, shooting a hand out to catch it when it rattled on the table top. Emerald eyes trained upon the newest occupant, swearing softly under her breath as the wind sent her emply glass rolling, " Damnit!" Magick users. "Steadman, for gods' sake, give her a fecking drink.", came the rogue's slightly exasperated call. Hair and clothing would be smoothed back into place, and the drinking would resume. Her voice held no accent, and her tone wasn't particularly outstanding. It was...quite ordinary, actually.

Eleanor didn't go to Vailkrin. It wasn't that she held any particular animosity for the shadow-drenched city, but that, until recently, her work simply hadn't taken her there -- yet. Swaddled in a wraparound hooded cloak as dark as the night sky that fell low over her crowned brow, the spell-rogue hastened through the cursed streets, boots expertly picking out the surest footing before she came to her destination: The Hanging Corpse, naturally. What better venue to ply her trade. El's full lips twisted into a devilish grin, but it was cast into shadow by the lip of her hood as she reached out with an azure-inked hand to pull open the door. She was too late! The door burst open at the bidding of the ice genasi, sending the unsuspecting female back a pace, her hood knocked off her wheat-and-flaxen waves that were twisted into braids outward from her right temple. With a husky chuckle, Eleanor quickly entered the tavern as the door swung back inward in her wake. "Noo that's nae somethin' ye see every day," her amused, thickly-accented syllables were muttered under her breath as her left brow rose, celadon twins sparkling as she swept the room with a furtive gaze. Hesitating in the entry only a beat more, she began weaving her sonsie-bodied figure through the tables and chairs to come upon the bar at Emilia's left. Even without looking at the elemental-touched female, El could feel the magic that emanated from her, and not because of how frigid it was. This sparked a darker smirk to the spell-rogue's lips, but it was Talene's outburst that ended up snaring her attention. "Och och aye, Steadman," El offered up slyly as she turned her heavy-lashed stare upon the barkeep. "Dae gie th' hen a bevvy." A beat later, El had produced a few coins from somewhere within the draping confines of her cloak. "Oan me."

Emilia was she not angered at the barkeep for turning her down for a drink, all do the the looks of her outward looks and size might have felt bad for blowing the door open for Eleanor. Some could argue that the Genasi was just that good to know she was about to make an entrance and wanted to open the door for her without getting up from her seat, while others would argue she nearly killed the newcomer with a blast of that arctic wind. The magic that leaked out of the ever white woman wasn’t of a mage or arcane nature, it was utterly pure ice element that radiated out of her. Eleanor for that matter would find herself walking from one temprature into another bubble of chilly space as she slid into that seat next to the woman sporting nearly (or possibly actualy) more wild white curls than creature. Icy-blue eyes first shifted over toward Talene for her sudden reaction to the wind gust and comment about a drink, it cause a gentle smile to form on those death-blue lips. “Thanks…” she started to say before the company of a stranger to her left with thick accent spoke up about the drinking. What a nice bunch of ladies, or secret murders, or some such others. Steadman looked at El with a serious nature, “Fine, but if the kid starts a drunken trouble she is all yours to take care of.” With that it wasn’t long before a glass was slid her way, landing home in that sparkly gloss black hand. Before she would reply to El she lifted the mug to her frosted lips to take a long drink. Where her lips touched a thick layer of frost remained as to the mug itself covered in a thinner layer of that frost from her touch, “Aye, Thank you, Miss. But you really don’t have to buy me a drink. I am plenty funded in life to pay for myself.”

Talene shrugged beneath her cloak, one that was mostly worn from habit and concealment as opposed to protecting against the cold or heat. Bloodwine bottle neck was placed to her lips, disinclined to grab the glass that had rolled away. " Works for me." The other newcomer drew her attention for a moment, the brogue of her voice standing out amongst the crowd. Gem colored sights examined this female briefly before resuming her drink, booted feet swinging up to rest on the table's edge and crossing over one another. " I've a feeling, Steadman, she'll be fine on her own."

Eleanor slid some side-eye toward Emilia, that wolfish smirk remaining spread across her full lips. "Plenty funded in life, eh?" the spell-rogue drawled, chuckling at the ice genasi before shaking her head. "Soonds loch somethin' ye shooldnae advertise tay loodly; micht attract th' wrang sort ay fowk." Eleanor offered Emilia a one-shouldered shrug before those glass-green eyes shifted sidelong toward Talene again, and more particularly the bloodwine bottle she was clutching. It was then that the woman leaned heavily into the bar, addressing the barkeep again. She smirked in a way that suggested she was only just tempering another husky snicker, before she spoke again, "Watter o' life fur me, straecht." And then Steadman was dismissed again, leaving Eleanor to slide effortlessly off the stool in waiting for her drink. There was the slightest echo of metal from beneath the folds of her billowing cloak, a hint of weaponry hidden under the dark fabric perhaps? Something arced against her left hip as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Things were too tame this eve, and El could already feel herself growing bored. Where was that damn wolf with all his brilliant ideas? Leo wasn't here right now, and that left El to her own devious devices. Looking around the sparse crowd of the tavern, she withdrew a coinpouch and went for broke: "A body hunder gauld pieces tae anyain fa can answer me this: a guild nae longer, but noo anew, headquartered ance afair nae far frae haur." It was a messy way of gathering information, or was it? She gave the coinpurse a shake as she held it aloft, gathering the attention of at least a couple patrons, wary grumblings amongst themselves; the purse chinked to reveal it had something metallic inside, but whether that was truly gold had yet to be revealed.

Talene looked over her bottle, to the bar. Towards the louder female, brows furrowing softly, " You looking for location or name?" If it was the one she was thinking of, speaking it aloud was trap enough. Rising smoothly from her seat, she'd roll her shoulder, so that scarlet cloak could fall back over her rapier, boot heels thumping a low cadence along the floorboards. If the rogue's guess was correct, the woman was asking about the Rogue's Guild.

Emilia flashed a smile at the one lady not near to her before turning those blues upon El once again, possibly taking caution in the word of the woman as a friendly bit of advice. She didn’t carry the gold on her for a number of reasons rather obvious, but the woman was more of a rare creature that was sought out by a number of various annoying people types that made her herself worth a pretty penny and then some. The joys of being one of a kind in a world of boring drab. Lifting the mug to her lips the Genasi listened to the words of El while she finished her drink, placing the empty ice covered mug down for Steadman. It came with a grumble of attitude that she’d turned his object into ice, oh well. There was a small exhale of air from the frozen one as she ran a hand over her face, making one heck of a strange face in the process, guild talk. The recent event in her own had the woman worn out. It was an adventure however, worth all the blood shed. Spinning in the stool those eyes wandered to watch the reaction of the crowd to her words about. Many of them if only drooling at the sound of what could be gold in that bag of hers. One man, slightly on the older side, with a burly face and a rounded out drunken man’s body puffed out his chest as he rose from his chair. Strong proud strides of a confident man, most drunken of course, toward El. With his chest still puff he wagged a fat dirty finger at the bag, “You be talking about that new weapon shop coming in with those giant metal things and all the darn clinking and a clanking! Groups of people always going in and out of that building.” His words (the writer too lazy to attempt to write drunkenly) came out slurred, smelling of too much ale, and with some spitting. Emi only laughed a sound like falling snow, how lovely, at the reaction of the man. Her small wintery voice carrying on chilled wind to the ears of El alone.

Emilia whispered to Eleanor, "Men are as dumb as they come. You are speaking of a phoenix rebirth of a former Guild. Best guess? Assassins. Haven't heard much of anything from them in the world of the Guilds."

Eleanor's pale seafoam gaze froze over (much like Emilia's very existence) as the besotted man stumbled toward her, but her lips twisted as the gears whirled in her mind. "That'll be nane fur ye -- an' nae mair fur ye, Ah woods wager," the spell-rogue replied loftily, an arch glance sent back over a shoulder toward the barkeep, before swiveling back toward the man. "Gang oan wi' ye." Disgruntled, he moved as if to surge toward Eleanor, but as he did, he appeared to trip over his own feet, stumbling to a knee with a gasping grunt before, pride wounded, he shuffled off. El's smirk darkened, and her attention moved toward Talene, shrewd stare soaking in the woman's appearance. "A location ay coorse, th' nam is hardly a body ay significance." She was not speaking of the Rogue's Guild after all; but then Emilia nailed it right on the head, earning an impressed arch of both blonde brows. "Nae a body has, loove," she replied to Emilia, albeit keeping Talene in her periphery for now. "Aam lookin' fur their lest suspected hideit. Ur onie information oan it." El palmed the chinking pouch of coins, testing its weight as she considered the ice genasi with a smug half-grin. Indicating the purse with the subtlest inclines of her chin, she added in a lowered voice, "There's mair tae it if findin' thes information turns intae somethin' mair."

Emilia nearly, no actually did fall off her stool laughing so hard at the sight of the drunken man and El coming to an end. He was wrong? How could he be wrong! He was the smarted of them all! Pounding his chest like a warrior he pointed at the woman, “Witch” was all that slipped out from his pride hurtself before he gone back to do his drinking business. Bare feet hit the floor with a small thudding sound before the icy one nearly slipped on her own patch of ice that had formed on the floor extending from the now frozen over bar stool. Steadman would be upset about that one. She didn’t care. Composing herself after the fit of laughter the white woman moved with slow steps that brought her dangerously close to El without actually touching her, almost as if she was the lover of the woman about to nip her ear before whispering some sweet nothings. Yet, neither of which happened, the Genasi never touched the other woman, “If you wish to talk privately, Miss, send letter. It isn’t too hard to find a ice monster in the cities.” In part, she was the co-leader of the Healer’s Guild and such topics found in the public eye wouldn’t suit the healer any good. Yet, something about this golden haired woman with her talking struck her fancy more so than it probably should. The bag of gold? Untouched.

Talene stopped in her advancement; she made more to re-learn about this place than she thought. With a "Hm.", she'd change course and glide on past the women in a whirl of cloak, meaning to head towards the door with bottle of bloodwine in hand. Eleanor would be remembered, for sure, after this information she sought was procured.

Eleanor's celadon twins followed Talene's departure, narrowing surreptitiously with her intrigue even as the corners of smirk twitched following Emilia's words. Her smirk grew, and she favored the smaller female with a sly half-grin. "I'll fin' ye." El didn't do letters -- she could write just as legible as the next gal, but she preferred there be no paper trail of any shape or form that lead to her. "Dornt ye fash yerse, loove." Her pale green eyes shifted past the genasi toward the retreating vampire's form, but El didn't say anything after Talene, nor did she add anything more to her reply to Emilia. Steadman was waiting (im)patiently at the bar for El to accept and pay for her drink, which she did in a fluid move, deftly swapping out the glass for a few gold coins without appearing to withdraw anymore from the pouch or anywhere else on her body. With an arch of her left brow, the spell-rogue lifted the tumbler as a toast to the barkeep, then twisted around, leaning back on the bartop and studying the remaining female. "Ye got a nam, ur shoods Ah jist caa ye Frosty?"

Emilia watched the departure of the woman that had first stuck up for her getting a drink from the bar this evening. She watched as she left then turned her focus back upon El once it was down to just the pairing of them in the main conversation before the other left to pay her tab and then start talking with that accent at her once again. That dark hand was offered over to the blonde, such a polite lass, but the reasoning would come when she spoke next, “Emilia, Co-Leader to the Healer’s Guild, but you can call me Frosty if you’d like.” The name, the title, it was no wonder she was able to toss a correct answer at El without having to think about it. The woman was a well known healer with herself part of happenings all across the land, oh the knowledge she could have in that head of hers. “And what does one call you?”

Eleanor shifted so that she could sink onto the stool once more, left elbow propped up on the bartop, right hand curled around the tumbler though she had yet to take a swig of the amber contents. "Eleanur," was all that she said, no fancy titles of 'co-leader this' or 'second in command of that'; unlike the other guilds of the land, hers did not advertise its presence. "Healer's guild, eh?" the spell-rogue was inclined to say next, a chuckle captive just before it escaped her. "What's a lassie loch ye daein' in a place loch thes?"

Emilia took her hand back as the other seemed uninterested in it, then again who shakes a hand of a woman who leaves ice on her mug. “Nice to meet you, Lady Eleanur. But I must be heading out now, things to tend to.” There was a half bow like thing before she added, “Next we meet maybe I will tell you what I am doing out this far from the living. Take care.” A smirk of a smile before she waves those fleshy white fingers of her other hand. With that she was making her departure from the building.