RP:A Special Delivery

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After hunting with Xersom, Skylei retires to Kelay Tavern for a quiet drink. Unfortunately, that drink is anything but quiet when an unknown feline and her accomplice arrive into the tavern and present the half-elf with a freshly killed drow's head. Skylei feigns horror and disgust, and loudly denies that she has any desire to commit atrocities towards the people of the Underdark. Whilst the patrons of the tavern might be convinced by Skylei's acting, Winter is not.

Kelay Tavern

Winter walks in and looks around. The small feline looks around the tavern. She was looking for a specific elf. The feline was dressed in all black all the way to her boots, the kind with the tops turned down. The black of her clothes made her flawless alabaster skin and long, snow white hair seem almost to glow. In her hand is a bag. The bag is wet at the bottom and a little reddish. Spying the elf the white haired feline moves toward her. Following close behind is another feline. Just an inch or two taller than her 4’10’’ mistress, this feline has short purple hair. Dressed in a knee length black dress and sensible black shoes, the purple haired feline carries a satchel over her shoulder. The white haired feline walks over to the elf and sets the bag on the table. The assassin then reaches into the bag and pulls out a drow head, which she sets on the table in front of the woman. The other feline giggles at the sight of the head. The white haired one shakes her head at the giggling. “I hear that you might be interested in this sort of thing. I have to admit that it was fun getting. A little quick, but fun.” The slave laughs. “Mistress was very quick. It wasn’t even a fight. He was just dead on the ground like that.” She snaps her fingers. Her mistress looks at her. “Yes, Kana. Now be quiet.” The slave eeps and closes her mouth.

Skylei is sat enjoying a quiet drink on her own before leaving Kelay and travelling back to Cenril. She hadn’t even looked up as Winter and Kana had entered the tavern, but she’s brough to attention when the drow head is plonked down before her. She blinks in obvious confusion as it is set down on the table before muttering a string of curse words permeated with the names of several gods, “Sven in the heavens… -Hind be damned…. What in Arkhen’s name do you think you’re doing?!” Around the tavern there are multiple reactions. Some people mutter behind hands, women let out squeals of disgust and those who have been foolish enough to bring children to the tavern shield the young folk’s eyes. The fact of the matter is that most of the eyes are on the interaction at Skylei’s table. Her hands push back into her hair and when she speaks her voice is loud and clear, deigned to carry unto those who listen nosily to the latest source of gossip, “I am one of Sage’s children, yes, and I have been deeply wounded by the exile of my people but I would -never- wish death on another living being! I’m afraid you have me mistaken for another...” Peering around Winter to look upon Kana who had provided information on the altercation, Skylei blinks once and then twice before lowering her voice, “And Mesthak generally isn’t best pleased to see body parts thrown all over his tavern. I’d get that out of here…”

Winter looks at the elf in complete disbelief of her statement. She had the right elf. She never made mistakes like that. The assassin puts the head back into the bag and holds it out. “Toss this outside somewhere. I no longer need it and it is now in the way. Just don’t get any on you.” Kana takes the bag carefully and runs outside with it. The assassin pulls over a chair and sits down. Her voice comes out as barely a whisper. “I know you are the one I came here to speak with. You want the drow gone and dead and dead is what I’m good at making things be. I’m willing to put some drow in the ground, but I don’t work entirely for free. I’ll kill drow that I stumble across, in return I want some of the spoils. I know there will be gold at the end of all this. I want some of it. A small fraction. This seems like it will be fun, so I’ll be cheap.” Kana comes back in and heads over. The white feline makes a gesture and Kana goes to the bar. Moments later Kana is there with a mug of the house specialty. Winter takes a long drink. “I’m in here off and on if you don’t want to speak now. Or you may find me on the road somewhere. I’m staying at the inn in Cenril. It shouldn’t be hard to find me. My beauty stands out at a distance.” She chuckles. “So much so that many look away to avoid staring. But a glimpse of pure white is all you’ll need to find me.” The assassin takes another long draw from her mug. “I’ll be outside for a bit if you change your mind about talking right this moment.” The assassin gulps down the rest of her mug and leaves it on the table as she gets up and heads outside. The other feline hurries along behind.

The smell of blood, fresh from the head of the drow hits the back of Skylei’s throat and makes her eyes water. It’s the combination of booze and blood and possibly the fear that comes from the fact that Winter seems to know far more than she should. “Please,” the half-elf mutters, “just get that thing away from me before I vomit.” As if to demonstrate the fact, Skylei physically gags. Fortunately, at that point, Kana interferes and removes the offending item from sight, though the smell lingers longer. “You’re insane.” Skylei informs the white feline at a normal pitch, not wanting to be seen whispering to someone who quite openly allies herself against the drow and therefore against the regime in such a powerful way, “Who in their right mind kills someone and offers their head to a stranger in Kelay Tavern? I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again. It’s not me you’re looking for.” Skylei points at herself and speaks slowly and clearly for the benefit of all around, “Not. Me. I’m sorry to have wasted your kill.” Skylei stands up from her seat, shaking her head at the feline as if to emphasise just how wrong she was. Then, she backs away from the bloodied table and takes a seat at another nearby. The half-elf would quickly become the person everyone wanted to talk to; drow heads make great gossip after all. Eventually, she would get up from the newly chatty patrons, make her excuses (she’s feeling a little shaken after the ‘incident’) and makes her way outside. If Winter was still lingering, she would offer the feline a pointed look before walking in the direction of Cenril.