RP:Bet On Leo

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: Ina has a tourney side-gig. It's grifting. That's it. That's the punchline.

Battered Bridge

The bridge here is quite unusual and indicative of changes in this land that probably happened some time ago. Standing on either side of the river bank are two ancient brick structures that were most likely once part of a stone bridge now however they are shattered and covered in thick weeds and fungus grows up the shady side. Now bridging these two ruined structures is a rather precarious looking rope bridge with rotten wood for footing. It barely looks safe and is more than likely not used often. Below the bridge is a rather dirty looking polluted river that runs southwards cutting a line of fresh filth through the decaying swamplands.

Mesdoram bet 15 k on Kanna Tessa Bet 15 k on Kanna

Joan 500 On Kanna

Ina's back in the bookie business- though the guise is different yet again. Today's false face belongs to an especially tall & dapper-looking orc, whose olive green skin is perfectly complimented by the navy blue pants, pewter sports jacket, and matching bowler hat he's wearing. Instead of a stand, this genteel giant sets down a folding chair in the vicinity of the bridge, along with a small sign in elegant script that reads 'Bets Taken here'. Hence set up- the orc hangs his bowler hat on the corner of the sign- if only so he can procure a handkerchief from his coat, and begin to polish the stubby tusks protruding from his mouth.

Quintessa is here with Khitti and Dominic, showing her support by throwing mushrooms and chanting with the crowd. If you ask Quintessa, there's no such thing as a bad shroom.

Loravelle said to Leoxander, "You better not have moths like that or I'll be sad."

Mahri is here, somewhere. Probably closest to where alcohol (if a y) is being served. Otherwise the lycan brought her own.

Meri also sits with Khitti. She is not throwing mushrooms, but she is occasionally picking on Dominic in harmless ways. Wet willies, etc. What are Aunts for, after all?

Meri :: As today’s combatants have a questionable-looking rope bridge for their fighting arena, the stands have been set up on each side of the bridge. Built a safe distance away from the western entrance of the bridge is the seating area for the average spectator. It just is just a simple wooden stand, though there are two vendors two have made themselves available to sell food and drink to said commoners. Stationed on the eastern side of the bridge is the cushioned and comfortable stand that Balgruuf and the reigning Champion get to occupy. There is a snack bar that is fully stocked for Shishi’s darling daughter. Once the duelists have come into his view, the Frostmaw Giant that has been acting as the representative of Frostmaw and the host for the tournament speaks in his booming voice, “Both of our combatants today are veterans of the Titans of Winter. We have the lovely bard Kanna and the Harbinger of Death, Vexar. Who will move forward in a bid to challenge the reigning champion, Shish? There is only one way to find out…”

Joan saw Arlyeon taking bets and the vampiric healer scampers over to the betting booth to make her bet! The amethyst-haired woman hoped this bet would pay off!

Ina accepts the bag of gold from Mesdoram, at which point it promptly disappears in a delightful display of sleight of hand (and with the help of a bag of holding).

Kanna was never much of a fighter. That’s why it always seemed so out of character when she inevitably signed up for the brutal Titans of Winter tourney. It was even more so of a bad idea now that she was being punished by the God of Undeath for her role in curing one of the Holy Trees of Lithrydel. ‘True combat is the best way to test how far the decay in my magic and physical health has gotten. Besides, poor Blue looked so stressed trying to help the organizers work around the missing combatants.’ Was how she had justified it. Now was the time for her duel, and she was as ready as she was ever going to be. A willow and yew diadem wraps around her hairline, the branches disappearing under her hair to serve as protection from blows to the head. She comes dressed in a black peasant top and skirt, both trimmed with periwinkle lace that matches the periwinkle bodice over her waist. Looped through the laces of her bodice hang several thick glass bottles with different plant matter and liquids within, no doubt all relating to poison of some sort. Throughout her hair, which has braided into twin buns so it doesn’t get her way, sprigs of baby’s breath and cornflowers peek out from between the branches. Though Kanna looked more as though she were ready to go on a date than a duel, those who had seen her fight before knew that she was dressed perfectly appropriately. Holding her Ya-Te-Veo staff to her painted lips, Kanna teases from across the battlefield. “How romantic: Harbinger of Death versus Harbinger of Undeath. I wonder what we’ll create when we dance together.”

Leoxander had arrived on the scene at some point, and probably in the company of an unlikely companion. Given the location, he’d been conveniently nearby, prowling the usual paths. Finding a tree to lean on with one hand in his jacket pocket, his jaw opened for a yawn and he scratched at the coarse stubble filling back in on his features. A glance was given toward the orc bookie as he debated on risking a handful of coin.

Ina continues to collect the bets as the crowd accumulates for the upcoming fight. That said, there's an increasing sense of concern as the crux of the betting continues to grow lopsided, enough so to beckon the 'orc' into pronouncing, "5 to 1 Odds on a mutual knock out, 15 to 1 odds on a combat fatality." There we go, that's got some last-minute shifts in priority going. What's more, the renewed press of people means that Ina's provided a much better opportunity to stick finger a ring or few while they're managing the whole 'exchange of money for receipts' thing.

Mesdoram, after placing his wage, turns his back to the bookkeeper and stares intently at his brother for a moment. Muttering under his breath, his mouth visibly mouths the words “Prove me wrong.” Scouting the area for other participants, the drow sees his newfound friend, Khitti, and waves in her direction. With their recent meeting fresh in his mind, Mesdoram motions Nariv in Khitti’s general direction as master and slave talk about future plans.

Loravelle is that unlikely companion accompanying the rogue pirate. She'll have her eyes on Kanna during most of this fight, once she's found somewhere near him to sit down. There's a convenient tree stump close by that'll work nicely.

Joan turned away from the betting booth once she told the bookie who she wanted her mere five hundred gold on for the win, spotting the dirty blonde haired stubble facial features of the lycan pirate the amethyst-haired vampiric healer would make her way towards him and the maid. Nearing the tree Leoxander was leaning against Joan would raise her hand to offer a wave in greeting as she neared, “Hey Leo, how did the clothes fit?” She’d ask.

Vexar rouses from his sunken perch alongside the river bank where he had been sitting, pondering. His sudden appearance, though lacking any particularly attention-grabbing theatrics, perhaps takes a few by surprise. Had the man been sitting there this whole time? No matter. Both arms reach towards the heavens in a mighty stretch, only to return to his side accompanied by a tremendous and relieving exhale. The vampire is certainly relaxed. Tame. A stark contradiction to his former appearances in this contest of champions. He is garbed in his prototypical, broad-shouldered mantle, shirtless beneath. Leather pants form around his waist and trail down to ragged-looking boots; however, as Vexar begins to walk towards the gathering crowd, it can be determined that the boots are actually just layers of caked on, toxic muck that have encrusted his feet in a sludgey mess. The soggy bank resists his egress with an audible, suctioning “pop” as, with some effort, he dislodges himself step by step from the quicksand-like mud and continues on his way, taking his place amongst the party. “Well then…who am I to test today?” As if answering his call, the proctor’s voice rings out on queue and announces the combatants and Kanna’s personage emerges. “Kanna the Bard”, Vexar opines to nobody in particular. The distinguished voice of his opponent rings forward, airy and dominant, yet soothing. The very tone sets him to alert. Here, he adjusts his posture, slouch corrected and legs pressed together in a more formal address, stopping just shy of an invitational bow. “I hope you don’t mind if I pick the tune.”

Mathollak said, "Hey what does Harbinger of Death mean? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m STILL ALIVE. HA"

Khitti was waved at. By that drow that her sister REALLY hates. While she's sitting right next to Meri. Thanks, Mes. No, really. THANKS. In return, he gets a reaaaaaally forced smile and a flat turkey tail mushroom thrown at his head like a frisbee. And if it actually managed to hit? She'd point at her kid, shrug, and offer him an apologetic look. Shishi saw last year the intensity with which his daughter cheers on her gangmates (guildmates if you think you need more than three necromancers and an undead army to form a gang), so he isn't surprised that she is once again here in full force, dragging her brother along this time, roaring as much as a 17-year-old half elf can, "Kill him!!! Let's go~!"

Mathollak catches the mushroom and tests his senses against it. He narrows his eyes toward Quintessa. "What kind is it?" Quintessa said to Mathollak, "Only the best kind; The Kanna Special."

Leoxander wasn’t quite as grungy as usual, but the dirty did still apply to his hair colour. Joan’s approach caught his attention and it just so happened he was wearing one of the loose-collared white shirts she had given to him under the black jacket, which he pulled partly open on one side to ‘model’ it for her. “Well enough.” Not much gratitude expressed, but he’d done that already in private. Having noticed her interaction with the orc, he nudged his chin toward the bookie’s booth and murmured a low question while he idly reached down for a tall stalk of wild grass to chew on the end of. “Who you rootin’ for?”

Mathollak eats The Kanna Special defiantly.

Quintessa said, "It's bloody raw..."

Mesdoram does not hear the mushroom approaching, being lost in conversation with Nariv at the moment. The elf slave, however, had witness Khitti throw her fungi missile at Mesdoram's head. Decisions: if she feigns ignorance, she can watch her master lose his mind on everyone; if she warns him, perhaps she can bare the retaliation alone. In a panic, Nariv yells. "Duck!!" To which Mesdoram confusingly says, "No, I believe that was a Goose that was battling..." (WHAP!) The drow had been attacked by projectile fungi... luckily for the witnesses, Mesdoram felt like being a 'fun guy' today – everyone lives.

Terra is probably late. Always. Blame the guy who told her the wrong time for the fight. The blonde scouted the company in the seats and in the boxes and eventually chose to make her way towards Mathollak, with a brief stop by the vendor with the strongest mixing hand. “Behaving?” Though after the way he ate the mushroom, she had doubts.

Kanna continues to smile as the fight begins, though there is a much more sinister look to it now as she looks to her opponent across the creaky bridge. “I like a man who leads, but allow me to set the stage.” The ghoul withdraws two glass baubles full of pulsating white fungus, taking care not to dislodge the larger glass vial full of a viscous red fluid. That bottle would come later. For now, one bauble is thrown from her hand across the bridge, where it sails so far left that it would be clear it would miss Vexar entirely. This is fine for Kanna, as he is not her target yet. The glass smashes against the tall brick structure, where the white fungus extends its appendages to cover the pillar entirely. Kanna smashes the second bauble against the brick pillar beside her, where the fungus spreads the same way. As if calling out to each other, the fungus on either side of the river grows rapidly, extending itself outward and over each end of the bridge to create spider-like web in a matter of mere seconds. While not touching the bridge, it provides a very limited area of movement for them both outside of the rickety bridge; the web hangs ten feet above the bridge and extends five feet on either side of the bridge where they meet at the brick pillars. Already, the flies attracted to the polluted stream below are sticking to the fibers of the fungus, their wings and legs immobile once touched. While the fungus moves, so does Kanna. The bard withdraws a perfectly polished panflute as she weaves in and out of the gaps of the fungal web to best avoid Vexar’s movements, assuming he has begun to move. “I was thinking a high C for a tune, how about you?” Kanna says coyly before playing the same note on her panflute. The note is sharp, sending a sonic blast across the bridge to hopefully blast Vexar’s eardrums out and cause a nasty bout of concentration-breaking vertigo wherever he might be.

Joan offered a small smile to Loravelle to include her in way of greeting before her full attention was back in the lycan pirate, “Kree does mighty fine work, glad I sprung for the extra shirts and all.” She’d follow his chin jerk direction back towards the orc looking bookie, “Oh my guild mate, always gotta support the guild, you know.” Looking back at Leo the vampiric healer would grin as her voided gaze looked him over, “Listen, there is this gala coming up in a few days and I need a escort, would you do me the honor? I was gonna ask ‘Rani but looks like she is going with Bre’ her mate.”

Mathollak said to Quintessa, "How long does it take to work?"

Loravelle plays the role of fly on the wall very well. When Miss Blackheart approaches Leo and gives her a little greeting smile, she acknowledges it with a little nod and turns her eyes back to the fight. She had little to contribute to their conversation. Her ears are open however, and the maid can't help the slight raise of her brow at the amethyst-haired woman's proposition to Leo.

Leoxander raised a brow with a look at Joan as if he smelled something foul, tongue turning over the reed of dry grass in his teeth, revealing the definition of a slightly larger than natural canine. Had he just been asked to a dance? A series of subtle emotions went from confusion, to almost humor, then a bit of disbelief. “...Wait- you’re serious? What’dyou need an escort for?” He didn’t imagine the healer to have many enemies she’d need to be guarded from, and even more unlikely would be the pirate dressing up for yet another pointless promenade.

Mesdoram would vomit at the love birds, but does not want to waste his whiskey. The drow, instead, doubles down on his drinking.

Quintessa said to Mathollak, "10 minutes to an hour, depending on how many you eat, and then hold onto your butts once they do, brother."

Mesdoram blinks at Magik... or at least who he thinks is Magik... double vision maybe coming. Nariv, feeling she can be free to roam, goes to the refreshment table.

Mathollak said to Quintessa, "How many are you eating"

Quintessa laughs at Mathollak's question. "I lost count hours ago."

Mahri glances through those gathered until her silvery eyes land on Leo. If he happens to look her way, she'll give a half smile and lift of her chin in greeting

Meri said to Mahri, "Oh, so you'll smile at Leo but side-eye me. I see how we are." Jaxson appears within the growing crowd, settling in at a good spot to watch the battle unfold. An expensive and expertly tailored suit is what he wears, in a style of a far eastern make, only the best for the Ravencroft heir. He isn't here to garner attention for himself though, not that he had that kind of pull. No, he was here to scout potential rivals in this tournament. His eyes fall upon the two, studying them both as his eidetic memory stores potentially valuable information for a later date.

Joan offers a rolling shrug, “I’d rather not show up dateless for once. Last few I went by myself, just to be present but I always felt…you know like a penguin in a suit standing there by myself. Besides it help both yours and mine public image. You’d look approachable and not so scary, might help with the recruiting for the ship.” Joan would offer.

Vexar spreads his arms again into a gargantuan stretch, the exposed muscle in his chest and delts rippling to life as faux oxygen from a theatrically, almost comically accented yawn fills the vampire with new vigor. His skin tone darkens in contrast to the new, gleaming emerald luster flickering in the Harbinger’s eyes. The presentation is akin to a slumbering bear stirring from months of hibernation with a flaming, renewed interest in exploring the ever-transforming world around him. As he shakes the final traces of rest and muck from his body, a new man stands tall, bouncing with anticipation. And why shouldn’t he be excited, having been lulled from his dreams by the enticements of a womanly caller? As the dual vials are introduced to the foray from across the rickety passing, Vexar’s purpose is grounded again. Perhaps moreso than he physically is, as the beginning of his journey to close the span to his opponent has already resulted in two broken planks and a torn pantleg. The man picks up his pace as the invasive fungi begins to crawl around the makeshift battleground, careful to balance the risk of poor footing ahead with the threat of ensnaring danger behind. Before he manages to close half the distance twixt the two combatants, a third threat throws itself towards him, screaming its intent with a cacophonous crescendo of power. The arms that are instinctively thrown in front to brace against the shockwave do little to dampen the powerful note, and its thunderous clap propels the vampire backwards into a dizzying fall, shaking the bridge into a violent and ominous swaying motion. Not a pleasant alarm clock. The man slowly rises, trying to poke away the ringing in his head with a finger in his ear as all of his senses, save the hearing, seem to be recovering quickly. He did not know what degree of exertion a spell like that would demand, but he did not want to give the bard time to try it again. With no time to reach her, the still-swinging bridge berths an idea. He throws his weight left, then right, then left again, magnifying the amplitude of the motion until he can barely cling to the ropes himself. The pattern ripples towards Kanna, and threatens to throw the bard into her own sticky web if she cannot remain balanced.

Joan said to Jaxson, "Hey you! What was your name again? Jaxson Raven-something?"

Loravelle may detest magic in all its forms, but there's something utterly fascinating to her about Kanna's abilities. The note she plays is loud enough to make her wince, doubly so at what she's overhearing from the rogue and healer. Secondhand embarrassment. She adjusts one of the floral picks in her hair and casts a brief glance at Leo and Joan.

Leoxander heard his name from somewhere in the stands, glancing in Meri’s direction before his hand lifted just enough to greet Mahri with a show of bandaged palm, not a wave. His attention returned to Joan by the time she spoke, the grass taken from his bite for a moment. His eyes were still squinted and sun spotted nose vaguely crinkled as she remarked on him looking ‘approachable’. Not quite something Leo would ever strive to be. “You know I ain’t much for those scenes…” He hadn’t expected the opening ceremony of the tournament to be so formal, and the effort of making himself more presentable just sounded like a chore. He followed her purple eyes in Jaxson’s direction. “Why don’ you go with him? He’s already dressed for it.” Inked knuckles in a vague motion toward the wizard.

Leoxander tried to keep an eye on the fight during that awkward conversation.

Jaxson shifts his oceanic-hued gaze from the battle at hand, the harbinger's abilities and use of them duly noted so far, to the one who calls out to him. A quick glance has his memory recalling that pixie-cut a mile away, not to mention the bright-coloured hair and those eyes. "Ravencroft." He replies back to the funeral parlor attendant. "Good to see you again, Mrs... Joan, yes?"

Mesdoram casually strides away from the betting station and makes his way around to a more crowded area, his eyes fixed on Vexar. In fact, his gaze is so fixated on his brother, the ever-increasing drunken drow bumps into several nameless faces in the crowd - knocking over a couple of children in his carefree walk. Finding the newfound positioning satisifying, he momentarily blocks the views of Magik, Meri, and Khitti before plopping a seat 10-feet in front of them. Finally, he pulls out his whiskey while singing a drunken tune from his and Vex's childhood.

Joan wrinkles her nose towards the lycan pirate, “You need to be seen every once and awhile and I’d feel better having a friend there to stand up besides me…please!” She adds the please and offers her most pleading glance, Joan didn’t ask for help often, and well…she didn’t want to show up alone for once! A glance would be cast towards the young mage at the same time the notes sounded out and she’d wince and clap her hands over her ears, feeling the ringing rattle those eardrums.

Ina might not be in the guise of a fox currently, but they're still graced with good hearing. Which in this case leaves the 'orc' grimacing from a combination of shrill sonics, and awkward entreaties. Thankfully, since Ina's no longer collecting new bets- there's nothing to prevent them from collecting their dapper bowler hat, and seeking out a concession vendor for a grilled sausage. Maybe a nice beer to accompany it.

Leoxander checked another glance at Jaxson, sorely tempted to call him over. "Not a bad show in the swamps." Spoken in his direction, hoping to distract the conversation in an entirely different direction. Storms, beasts, murder he could handle. But the rogue was looking pretty wary at the idea of a date.

Kanna pockets the panflute once the note is played. The bard forces her undead lungs to draw a breath as Vexar recoils from the attack. Taking the opportunity while she still could, Kanna takes a red vial from around her waist and pours it’s contents on a patch of concentrated fungus below. The liquid is nearly completely absorbed by her weblike creation, the blood-red color seeping fractal by fractal across the entire fungal web as Kanna murmurs words of necromancy. The small action is all the time she has before the bridge moves sharply to the left, then right, then left again. Kanna drops the empty vial and clutches at the flimsy rope. She looks at Vexar, alarm crossing her features as the facade of flirtatiousness slips. Without a sense of touch, she couldn’t feel the weight shifting under her and shift her own weight in time. A rotted plank gives way under Kanna, landing at the bottom of the web. There was no choice. Another plank falls, this time beneath her feet, nearly sending Kanna down with it. The bard carefully steps backwards until she is perched precariously at the base of the bridge where it is most stable. Every stutter and break of concentration she makes as she continues to recite the spell delays the attack that much more. Still, she is careful to only use the language of her homeland, lest Vexar realize what brand of magic is about to occur. Button mushrooms bloom at random intervals across the fungal cocoon. As they do, Kanna presses a gloved hand to the cocoon; she could lose it if need be, but the bard needed stability. The stink of iron and rot is palpable as clouds of dragon’s blood laced spores rain down on both of them from the new nightmarish layer to the fungus web. These spores do little more than paint Kanna’s hair and periwinkle trims a dark maroon, but she keeps her gaze fixed on Vexar to see how spores react to vampiric skin.

Joan gave Jaxson a wincing pained smile as she nods, “You can just call me Joan.” She replied best she could.

Mahri has half an ear and one eye on the goings on by Leo and catches the subtle (or not so) signs of discomfort. Assuming there are children running around with no obvious supervision, the wolf waives one over, offers a coin and a message to be delivered to the blonde pirate.

Loravelle wonders if she should swoop in to save Leo. As Joan pleads, the maid clears her throat in effort to get the amethyst-haired woman's attention, but doesn't move from her perch on the tree stump. “Miss Blackheart,” she begins, casting a brief glance at Leo. Play along. “I'm the reason that he won't be able to attend with you. I...misplaced something.” A weak lie, but with Joan getting emotional, perhaps it's believable. Besides, she's a dim-witted maid, no? “He offered to help me find it with that keen nose of his.”

Mesdoram whispers to Nariv. "Bring more food!!!" - Nariv, from 30 feet away and currently at the refreshment table, gathers some treats for her master with haste.

Mahri || The child takes the coin and races through the crowd to Leoxander and tugs on his sleeve, pointing back at Mahri. "Lady says meet her at the JR after the fight iffen ye ain't busy." Then the urchin disappears again into the crowd to show his friends the coppers he earned.

Jaxson looks at Joan curiously as he hears the pain she seems to try to hide with a smile before his attention is drawn to the pirate. Oh yes, Leoxander, Cap'n Leo, is a name who has made rounds through the land, let alone the major port cities. A nod to the pirate, followed by him saying. "Thank you. I thought he had me on the ropes a few times tho." It was true, Mesdoram is a formidable foe, the drow's defeat does nothing to lessen this fact. A concession woman passes by, and the spellcaster buys himself a drink and a snack, as he returns his attention to Joan for a moment while still trying to watch the fight. Magik thinks someone should lay off the treats, tbh. A fat drow? That's just sad. Kind of comical. But, mostly sad. Kanna is glad to be a fly on the wall for the real entertainment happening on this tile.

Khitti watches as Mesdoram sits ten feet in front of her. She just kinda slow blinks like she can't really believe this is happening right now, to the point that she even facepalms. More mushrooms are thrown at him until he hopefully eventually realizes that she's trying to get his attention. And if/when she does? She's going to stare straight into his soul with the biggest, shiniest eyedaggers he's ever seen. These aren't just any eyedaggers, these are momma bear eyedaggers. Ones that say 'I'm gonna yeet your elf ass into the void if you don't behave'.

Leoxander mentally cursed at the gods in his head, scratching a hand against the back of his scalp. His ears might be ringing from the pitch of the noises coming from the battle, but he hadn’t missed her plea. It was hard to overlook the fact she’d patched him up a time or two, and followed through by gifting new clothing. This was exactly why the pirate didn’t accept many favours. Debt landed him in a situation like this. A defeated sigh escaped him through his nose just before Loravelle stood up to address Joan. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll find it…” Whatever ‘it’ was. He looked up with a dull expression to the healer, searching his inner jacket pocket for his flask. “So when is this thing?” He didn't have a chance to open the container for a drink before the messenger arrived, glancing over toward his silver-eyed packmate with a slight nod.

Valrae enters the stands with her guardsmen trailing her openly. Her hands are full of popcorn and two beers. She’s worn a casual wrap dress the colour of spring daisies and a long olive green coat. The witch pushes her way through the stands until she’s beside Jaxson. “Hey can you hold this a sec?” She passes off her concessions before even greeting him, tossing her large leather bag near his feet before she takes a seat. “Thank you and hi!” She smiles at the man sweetly. “Did you bet on anyone? Is it too late now?” She’s never on time for anything. Sipping the beer, her eyes find the battle and she watches for a moment before scanning the crowd. She spots a few familiar faces and she waves. Val tilts her face to Jaxson again. “Sans gold, who do you think is winning this one?”

Meri bobs her head in agreement with Magik, eyeing Mesdoram the entire time the two whisper. Yes, they are definitely talking about the drow...and plotting. Yes.

Ina might be more invested in the small hub of activity surrounding Leo, than the fight everyone had bet on. Honestly, it feels like there was a missed opportunity to bet on -if- Leo was going to be press-ganged into this gala, and by who. "Note ta' self. Guiltin' works."

Leoxander wasn’t far from Jaxson, and Valrae’s arrival drew a glance that looked her up and down. Her face seemed familiar in a sense but the rogue seemed to take a moment to recognize other assets while he unscrewed the lid of his flask for a drink. Joan does a slow blink as the pain lessen in her inner ears, exhaling slowly the vampiric healer would take Leo’s question with a sunny tiny fanged smile. “This Sunday, in Enchantment by the stream I do believe.” The child was given a smile as he relayed his message to the lycan and Joan turned towards the maid as Joan shook her head. “Sorry. You might need to find it by yourself.” Jaxson was pointed to as she addressed the young mage. “Everything you ordered for your parents funeral is all set up. Thank you for trusting the Chapel of Rest/Unrest!

Meri said to Khitti, "That's right. You tell that stinky drow."

Mesdoram : Bap… Bap… BAP!! Three mushrooms hit Mesdoram in his head, neck, and upper back. The drow angrily turns to see his friend, Khitti, sitting with Meri and Magik. Before locking eyes with Khitti, however, he looks over to Meri and Magik once more… confused, and perplexed once more. Was it the whiskey? No. Was he more sober than he let on to be? Definitely not. With his head facing the lovely couple, he shakes his head before returning his gaze to Khitti. “You aim much better than your sister, Khitti! I am impressed with your marksmanship of the mushroom.” Offering one last jab at Meri’s expense, he turns to Magik and before sarcastically saying “My condolence, my friend.” That is when a nervous Nariv backs away slowly… not wanting to be a part of Mesdoram’s drunken buffoonery tonight

Vexar continues blinking fiercely, coughing, and with his free hand attempting to rub away the high pitched note still harassing his ears as he began to sway more harmoniously with the bridge. It is with this fresh torture in mind that he finds himself discomfortingly relieved to witness the flute disappear back into the depths of hell from whence it came. In all his years, the vampire had never tangled with a bard, and that instrument was not a puzzle he wished to solve today. Disarmed, Vexar takes his chance to once again begin the short quest across the river, only to once again find himself disrupted by an unusual tactic. The rapidly distorting color of the weaving entanglement did little to phase the Harbinger. The emergence of the fungal flowers certainly piqued his interest. The ensuing blanket of mist as the mushrooms vomited forth their toxic rage sprung him to action. His immediate assumption as he burst along the bridge at a yet unseen pace was to avoid breathing in the floral plague; a problem the vampire had no issue solving. His fallacy was recognized as the first layers of bloody death cascaded onto his skin, and began to aggravate the very flesh they fell on. As layer upon layer of the mist built, so too did the searing, corrosive pain grow. Realizing he would never reach is foe, and faced with an ultimatum, Vexar dives sidelong for the web of danger. While airborne, his decadent moonblade ‘Nyx’ materializes within his grasp and cuts and arcing sweep through bridge, ropes, and fungus alike, heeding nothing in it's path. The slashes strike true and allow the Harbinger to crash through the barrier and into the river below, cleansing himself of the invasive species. The bridge is left in ruins, damning anyone standing on it to plummet into the tainted waters below, or become ensnared in the webs. Still seething from the dragon’s blood, Vexar submerges beneath the murky water, lurking his way towards where the twisted botanist would come tumbling down, ready to latch onto whatever appendage he could reach and drag her down to join him in an aquatic dance.

Leoxander had been trying so very hard to focus on the fight, having been in the competition with both duelists the year prior. He would have been more than glad to give back any thunder that might have shifted his way. There wasn’t enough liquor in that flask for this conversation he was stuck in. “Course it bloody is.” Enchantment. Riddled with bugs. Or as others knew them: fae, or pixies. “Great.” There was a harsh and colourful word preceding that sarcastic retort.

Meri mutters and grumbles about how she'll remind Mesdoram about how good her aim is soon. Very soon. The only ones who will be able to hear her though are those in her immediate vicinity. Stupid, filthy, stinky drow.

Magik is clearly unimpressed with Mes' banter. Noticing Nariv back away, that unimpressed look is replaced with a slight smirk, "How much for the slave? She seems to take orders well.."

Loravelle ;; A practiced solemn look turns Lora's features to a frown to mask her bemusement, but nods all the same at Joan's apology. “I wasn't aware that you spoke for him, Miss Blackheart. The two of you must be so very close.” A brief, apologetic glance is shot the rogue pirate's way before she's back to observing the fight. Sorry bud.

Valrae realizes after a moment that she’s seated herself in the middle of something. She could sense the tension in the air. Her dark eyes find Leoxander. Something about him struck a faraway cord of familiarity. Unable to place him, the witch smiles. “Hey!” She chirps by way of greeting. Hoping to be polite, she offers a nod to both Loravelle and Joan as well. “Did I hear something about the gala that’s happening in Enchantment?” The witch waits a beat for an answer while taking another pull from her beer. “I still need a date for that.” Her green eyes flicker toward Leo and then Jax. “Any takers?” She clicks her tongue.

Jaxson is bombarded by quite a bit as Valrae arrives like only that woman can, the weaver of eldritch magic suddenly finding himself "holding the bag" as the Red Witch dumps her snacks and drinks on his person so she could settle into a seat. A smirk finds the man's face as he just allows it all to happen (not that he had much choice). But the fact she came, a vague memory of a invitation offered a few days ago comes to mind, has the man more than satisfied enough to be of service. Here, Joan's voice cuts through the increasing roar of the crowd as the battle rages on, reminding the man he last spoke with this woman about matters concerning his parent's passing. This was a bit of a gut punch, but he simply eats the blow with what is quickly becoming practiced ease in regards to the who matter. He'd nod back to the woman, and say. "Thank you." Before Valrae's inquiry about bets and who is going to win draws his attention back to the mayor-elect as he says. "Truth be told, it's hard to tell. Both seem quite skilled." A sudden recollection of a matter comes to mind, as to Valrae the warlock says. "Oh! I needed to tell you, we got to schedule soon. You've got someone to meet." A proud smile spreads across his face, as the Ravencroft heir proclaims. " I have come to terms with one Penelope, of the Healer's Guild, who, along with her brother, have agreed to aid the people of Cenril. The siblings will offer their medical expertise to your already stretched-thin medical staff." Oh yes, he was damn proud of this. Like how a man gets when he knows he should be earning brownie points.

Ina is in the process of inhaling the remnants of the ale they'd bought when a new gods-damned challenger arrives. A sputtering spittake ensues, before the 'orc' takes a decisive chomp of their sausage, tosses the rest over to an urchin, and then procures to wipe the grease off from their fingers so they can return to their betting station. Doing their best to adopt a gruff take on a showman's shout, Ina as the 'Orc' makes a new declaration, "Alright folks- looks like we got another bettin' pool. Iffun ja folks give a gander off to the side- ja might notice we've been having a second serving of dinner 'n a show. So folks, care to weigh in on a friendly bet of 'who that fella's takin' as his date'." It's tricky to try and measure the pitch so it doesn't arouse the suspicion of the folks in the midst of that mess, but Ina is trying, because that sort of domestic dalliance is the sort of thing that will -captivate- an audience. And once the bettings been made, it means everyone's eyes will be on Leo, and leave her at liberty to pad out her funds to pay back the winners. "Better odds if ya aiming for a double, or much vaunted triple date, folks."

Jaxson is caught wholly off guard by the playful declaration of Valrae's need for a date for a gala. How she asks him and the infamous pirate, the warlock would play it cool and simply say. "If the captain were to take you, the rumors would just be too damn good to pass up. The elite's heads would explode." This is a bit of an inside joke between Val and Jax, as the two have already been the focus of plenty of rumors the past week alone.

Joan was amused at this point, a glance giving back to the maid as Joan smiled. “Nah, sorry. I just hate going to galas alone, you are of course welcomed to be another date/escort if you’d like to come.” She shoots the lycan a look of apology she didn’t mean to seem to answer the maid for him, she just wanted someone she knew to come along since her first choice was taken. Valrae was smiled too, but closed smile in case she didn’t know Joan personally, the vampire only flashed hint of fang or more to those she knew personally.

Mesdoram smirks at Magik's proposition and speaks to the man while watching his brother fight on. "More than you can afford." A slight flutter in Nariv's demeanor is apparent as she briefly eyes Meri - she quickly darts her eyes to Magik and offers a soft smile and a nod, somewhat thanking him for what she thought were kind words.

Jaxson is taking Arlyeon.

Terra is debating who to bet on for Leo’s date…

Khitti said to Mesdoram, "She's literally going to kill you."

Loravelle said to Joan, "I don't share dates, Miss Blackheart."

Leoxander gave Valrae a ‘Seriously?’ kind of look before he glanced toward the edge of the ravine. That river way down there was starting to look like a tempting escape. A hand up to decline the offer, if she was being deliberate with that question. Seemed he was already spoken for. He helped himself to another long drink, which he nearly choked on when he heard the orc bookie speak. If looks could kill, well, they wouldn’t need to because he very nearly marched over there to manage it physically, mouthing a fair warning that included a mute swear word.

Quintessa said to Khitti, "Huh, what? We killing someone now?"

Khitti said to Meri, "This reminds me. I'm allowing Mesdoram to have a play in my garden because I like money. This is also an open invitation for people to try to murder him if they want."

Ina feels like they're being observed, and decides that they ought to make sure the tusks of their orcish disguised are extra polished. Smashing good show.

Meri resists the urge to sass off about how rich Magik is. She's just gonna sit there and give dirty looks to Mesdoram. Good thing Magik is in her lap, it'd probably not be good for Meri to go starting fights while Vexar and Kanna were still fighting. Magik chuckles softly at Meri, "You hear that, love? More than -I- can afford.." He shifts his focus from the drow, to Nariv, then back to Mes with an added shrug, "Your loss, I suppose. Shame, really. Could have used that gold to get your people some better living conditions down there but.."

Meri said to Khitti, "I too like gold, so I understand. I will be there to ruin his play. I will try and not wreck your garden too much in the process. But you know...sorry in advance if I make a mess."

Khitti said to Leoxander, "You've got ninety-nine problems and it looks like women are every single one of them."

Valrae ’s eyes are pulled away from Leo and back to Jaxson. “I’m voting for Kanna. She’s cute but I have a feeling she’s also deadly.” She hides a teasing smile behind her beer as someone announces a new betting pool on who Leo would be taking to the gala and he levels a look her way that spoke volumes. “Penelope…” She repeats the other woman's name, running it through her mind in attempts to place it with a face. If she’d met her, it would have only been in passing. “You’ve been busy,” The witch jokes. “But no really, that’s great. Were you really networking while someone was mending those ribs?” She makes no attempt to hide the impressed tone of her voice. She knew how much magical healing would hurt and his ribs had definitely been broken. “So are you incapable of turning off the charm or is it a choice?” The question itself was flirty but her tone suggested she was asking in earnest. She’s forgotten the gala teasing entirely. Val shifts in her seat, her leg bumping against Jaxsons as she focuses her attention on him.

Khitti said to Meri, "It's alright. I'll ask Kanna to fix it. Her garden is waaaay better than mine."

Meri said to Magik, "Oh I heard it. *still glaring at Mesdoram*"

Kanna blinks a few times to dust the spores from her eyes. In one blink, Vexar is charging directly at her, in the next, he’s recoiling from the pain of the dragon’s blood rain, then he’s gone. Kanna barely has time to look around before the flimsy rope and sticky net give way. Dexterity was not the ghoul’s strong suit, and so she plunges into the river just yards from where Vexar submerges himself. Now the necrobotanist would never see the bizarre love triangle unfolding in the spectator stands. Kanna flails for a moment, then she feels something hard underneath her. There was a bone under her hands! For legal purposes, let’s emphasize that these are just plain skeletal remains. The bard sees the slow-moving water ripple as Vexar quickly approaches. Kanna grips either side of the large bone, her necromancy pulsing through it and through the other bones connected to the skeleton. “Vakmatharas, I call upon thee, rise.” Even through the murky water, a burst of green light can be seen. Rising between herself and Vexar, a dragonic skull breaches the surface of the water, the rest of its body rising in short order. Muck and debris pour off of its frame, making it appear more like a swamp golem at first glance. “Rise, and fight. Don’t let him touch me!” She pleads as she clings to the filthy spine of the skeleton. Kanna would not last so much as a minute in hand-to-hand combat, but this creature could. At least, that’s what she hopes as the bone dragon rises to its full ten-foot height, shaking more debris off of it, and rears back on its hind legs. Kanna clutches her hands into fists and swings downwards. The dragon puppet follows suit from its master, clutching its front claws into gnarled fists, ready to pummel anything unlucky enough to find itself in the way.

Khitti said to Quintessa, "Meri wants to kill Mesdoram. *points at the drow* It's his own fault. He caught me on an off day or else I probably would've tried to kill him too."

Mesdoram said to Khitti, "(grabbing a new bottle of whiskey) If that's what she wishes. I cannot control what she does... what's your sisters name, by the way? (comsumes drink)"

Ina might have to put some emphasis on the 'smash' part of that statement, because there is enough anger in the look Leo gives them that it'd probably be a precursor to a good bit of fun. That said, he seems to have his hands full with 3 potential dates as is- so the definitely-not-a-foxkin-and-totally-an-orc provides a helpless shrug to the capn', and resumes taking bets- albeit without adding further fuel to the fire.

Mesdoram perks his ear hearing Quintessa mention his name. The drow turns briefly at her, and simply laughs. "Greed... you had your chance. I've moved on." He retorts back to Magik for a moment. "Quiet down front! My brother is about to do something amazing." Of course, this did not make sense as the drow sits in front of everyone.

Quintessa said to Khitti, "Him? I think that's the guy Karasu carved her name into and then later he wrote a play about us. So weird."

Khitti said to Mesdoram, "Her name is No One. So when she's finally murdering you, please make sure to yell "No One's killing me!" so we can all hear it."

Magik said to Mesdoram, "Have a few more drinks, bud. You're doing terrific."

Magik said to Meri, "He's doing terrific."

Khitti just stares at Magik. Did he just really say what she thinks he said?

Joan said to Loravelle, "Oh?! I’m all up for group dates if we are all friends. The more the merrier, and it’s more of a ‘help’ plead, I hate showing up alone."

Shishi's daughter jumps to her feet as the two combatants plunge into the waters below the bridge. The girl cranes her neck and narrows her oceanic blue eyes in an attempt at getting a better look at the fight. She can't hear Kanna's words (later Orange will liken them to a prayer akin to her own necromantic techniques), but then the water lights up and the rumbling of the reanimated skeleton can be heard from beneath the surface, the kid just loses it! "Yes~! Oh hell yeah! Lets f-" a seagull caws louder than the bone dragon and the rest of the crowd combined, "go!"

Mesdoram turns to the many 'friends' he has made in short notice. Placing his finger over his lips, he offers the 'Shhhhh' noise to quiet his crowd. "Don't be rude friends. We can rendezvous later." A somewhat snicker leaves his mouth as he turns back to the duel.

Jaxson is of course going to take Val up on her bet and place money on Vexar then, just to have fun with it. "Fine, I'll see your bet and raise you some on the Harbinger to win it." He truly couldn't tell who had the upper hand tho, but quickly doesn't worry about it as Val seems to approve of his contract signing of the healers. Felt good to do good kinda vibe. Nice. Then, her comment about the networking during the healing. "Yeah, what can I say. Her brother is damn good with his hands." He knew the jokes he just set up, but Kel was just a really good healer who used the water and his hands to heal people. Either way, its Val's smile and appreciation of the work that makes the man smile back as he says. "I can't help it, to be born with this pretty face and these dashing eyes.." He jests of course, as he doesn't have a giant ego by any means. He'd even make playful faces to emphasize this point, before saying. "I'd like you to meet them soon, and settle any other details you'd need to handle, turn it into a win not only for the people, but you and your campaign as well."Not that it was the point, but it doesn't hurt that thier little alliance, Jax and Val's, has already bore fruit for the people of Cenril.

Loravelle tries to spin flying solo at a party as a good thing instead of a problem for Joan, mostly to get her off of Leo's back. She understood where the vampire healer was coming from, to a degree. She's typically shy. Perhaps her words will be reassuring enough. “I went to the Titans of Winter ceremony alone, and fortune favoured me. I met someone worth leaving with at the end of the night.” It's a vague enough description to imply just about anything remotely positive. “Try going alone. Your path may cross with someone worthwhile.”

Leoxander didn’t bother to hide the slight roll of his eyes as he paced away a few steps for a little space, though he nudged Loravelle and muttered a request for some relief with one of those potent herb smokes. He wasn’t going to try to intervene and subject himself back into the conversation between her and Joan, still in their vicinity as he fished for his firestarter, swapping flask for the tin-cased lighter.

Magik said to Khitti, "Wut?"

Loravelle tosses the whole pack she started keeping pockets more often than not lately for the rogue to him at his nudge. Meri gives Magik a questioning look for a moment but does not hesitate in lifting her left hand so that she can show Khitti the snazzy black diamond engagement ring that Magik gave her. Yes. Magik liked it enough to put a ring on it.

Joan said to Leoxander, "That is a yes? *aaking now and totally ignoring the maid, Joan was asking a favor of the lycan alone.* You don’t need to dress up, how you are now is fine to show up in, just…you know wash your hair with shampoo and water."

Khitti peers down at Dominic and pokes him on the head to get his attention, "Dominic, -Uncle- Mesdoram wants you to set him on fire. -You- want to set him on fire, don't you?" Her entirely adorable son looks up at his mother with those big saucer-like emerald eyes like he's a puppy that just heard the work 'walkies'. He nods his head enthusiastically and cackles with innocent glee. Yes. Yes he does want to set the drow on fire. The nearly-four-year-old gets up off his mother's lap and closes the gap between him and Mesdoram. Stopping just a foot or so behind him, he lights the ground on fire behind the drow, letting the flames spread towards him while simultaneously shadowstepping back to Khitti's lap. "You're such a good boy, Dominic. Remind me to get you a huge slice of carrot cake when we get home."

Khitti said to Magik, "Oh nothing."

Joan said to Loravelle, "Okay…but I’m asking my friend to be there for me in a moment of need. Thanks!"

Khitti peers down at Dominic and pokes him on the head to get his attention, "Dominic, -Uncle- Mesdoram wants you to set him on fire. -You- want to set him on fire, don't you?" Her entirely adorable son looks up at his mother with those big saucer-like emerald eyes like he's a puppy that just heard the work 'walkies'. He nods his head enthusiastically and cackles with innocent glee. Yes. Yes he does want to set the drow on fire. The nearly-four-year-old gets up off his mother's lap and closes the gap between him and Mesdoram. Stopping just a foot or so behind him, he lights the ground on fire behind the drow, letting the flames spread towards him while simultaneously shadowstepping back to Khitti's lap. "You're such a good boy, Dominic. Remind me to get you a huge slice of carrot cake when we get home."

Joan said to Loravelle, "Okay…but I’m asking my friend to be there for me in a moment of need. Thanks!"

Meri snorts. Uncle. Mesdoram. Gross.

Khitti said to Leoxander, "Going to a ball with someone that's implying you smell is probably a bad idea."

Valrae laughs. “You’re on, Ravencroft.” She’d seal the deal with a handshake but that felt dorky and her hands were full, so she settled for bumping his shoulder with her own. The witch tosses another glance over her shoulder at Leo, shyly looking to see if he still had a scowl on his face. She’s distracted by Jaxson again though. “Oh right.” She scoffs. “And here I thought I chose good looking over rich. Being born on the Upper End really just lets you have it all.” This was said with no real malice though. “I’d love to meet them. There are plenty of people who could use the help, even if the plague can’t be healed by conventional means.” She watches Leo and Loravelle as they move away and hides another smile. “I think we’ll have to make headlines without his help,” She mock whispers to Jaxson. “I think if we’re betting again we should bet on her.” She makes a vague gesture with her beer to Loravelle. “Seems like she’s stealing my date away.”

Quintessa said, "What the heck is shampoo?"

Mahri wanders to Leo, giving Lora a genuine smile as well before offering a light. "Go where?," she asks innocently as though she hadn't heard the whole exchange.

Joan said to Quintessa, "Oh, they offer it at the bath houses in Cenril! It’s a Aloe mixture with other herbs and ingredients!"

Terra said to Quintessa, "Do you have any more mushrooms? Do they work as ear plugs?"

Vexar ’s foe is easy to detect as she cannonballs within striking distance of his crocodilian styled plan of attack. Were it detectable beneath the bleak surface of the river, the spectators would notice a Cheshire smile creeping across the vampire’s face as he lurks ever closer to his prey. As Kanna is propelled from the water, so too does Vex rise, a great white breaching the surface to execute a kill. However, as the blinding water gives way to the evening sky, it is not a pleasant little girl that his glaive finds, but the femur of a colossal dracolich. As Vexar’s eyes slowly trace the height of the beast north, he gulps a regret down. “So this is what I do to people…well, two can play at this ga----aaahhh!!” His declaration is cut short as the necessity to roll away from a hammering dragon’s fist negates the desire to exchange in small talk. Not far from the sunken, grimy bed where Vexar lounged in the waning moments before the bout’s announcements there begins to echo a babbling, bubbling disturbance in the riverbank. Upon closer inspection, a single fetid finger pokes through the muck. The apparent human sapling grows quickly into a full hand, followed closely by a muscularly degenerated forearm and evolving into the expected full form of a torso. As the grotesque animation continues to pull itself from the makeshift grave, so too does a putrid odor emerge, wafting on the breeze and assaulting the nostrils of those gathered. To those privy to the Harbinger’s usual company, the abomination can only just be identified through its spa-like mud-mask to be Vexar’s ever-faithful human slave corpse. The familiar, without Vexar’s astute attention, is not so brilliant as it is faithful. In a courageous attempt to aid its struggling commander, the lame body wades headlong into the river on a collision course with the dragon. It, of course, is immediately stricken by a mighty claw, the slave’s head flailing free and coming to rest on the opposite shoreline. As it rolls to a rest, the corpse is still smiling dimwittedly when it lays rotted eyes on its troubled master. “Good enough,” Vexar coughs through the struggle. The necromancer raises his left hand, in its grasp that sinister ivory wand, master of death. As he does so, his voice begins to chant in twisted tongues, seemingly split into separate pitches as though two voices were calling out. Indeed, should it be noticed, the paralyzed slave corpse’s lips are moving in unison, offering its support to the curse at hand. Immediately, the river current slows, and the atmosphere just above the water’s gentle surface now becomes distorted as though heat is radiating forth. The gentle billow undulates and curls into more defined torrents; small pockets of hazy wisps coagulating into fist sized balls with blurred tails. The mesmerizing figures float, dreamily, bouncing upon the rivers surface which now looks almost crystalline, as though the waters themselves have been purged. Gradually, though, the bouncing becomes more and more violent. The phantasms begin to chase each other, angrily darting to and fro as though searching. All at once, their courses converge on Kanna, and this hellish band of angered spirits, barely visible now except as hazy specters, begin to assault the senses of the bard. As they close in, their screams become audibly deafening and, should they touch the ghoul, they would impart upon her visions of her most vicious nightmares. The entire charade could hardly harm her, but it would hopefully distract her enough to dispel the dracolich, and at worst the otherworldly torture it imparts could drive the woman to madness, perhaps even harming herself to escape their prison.

Quintessa said to Joan, "You put that junk in your hair? No thank you, I only use good, old-fashioned, Black Pond mud in mine. Gives it a nice sheen and doesn't dry it out."

Shishi puffs out his cheeks and quietly says something like, "Seriously..?" before Leralynn calls out to Quintessa, "Don't give her any!"

Loravelle lifts her small hands up in mock defeat at Joan's dismissal, then refocuses on what she came here with Leo to see. The duel. There's too much talking going on, especially on her end, though she does light up a bit when Mahri approaches. "Hello, Miss Mahri." She waves timidly, then back her gaze goes to the duel.

Quintessa said to Terra, "I've got you covered."

Joan said to Quintessa, "Ooh, snazzy!"

Quintessa shrugs at Shishi and Leralynn, "Sorry, the shrooms must flow."

Shishi 's daughter grumbles, "Dang it..."

Mesdoram leans back with his hands propping his body upwards like a tripod(right hand, left hand, and body) to get a little more comfortable; with the aid of his feet planted firmly, the drow has enough balance to halt his vision from spinning around. Mesdoram begins smelling the air with something cooking… possibly burning… and remembers. “NARIV!!! Where is my food!? Something smells good.” Suddenly, a searing pain begins inflicting his hands with smoldering intensity. His instincts immediately sends his butt to sit on both of his hands in an attempt to smoother the flames… he is successful, but now has a seared buttocks that may or may not be exposed due to his black pants being made of cotton. The drow glares at his new friends, as this will not go unpunished… "Nariv!! Pants first... then food!" Which causes the elf slave to run away. Will she be back with pants?? Probably not.

Terra is totally mature. She definitely doesn’t stick her tongue out at the youngest criminal in the box when no one else is looking.

Jaxson watches as Leo and Lora move way, and half listens to the exchange those gathered around them all are having as he peaks casually at the match before returning his attention to Val. A lot of moving parts, for sure, but somehow he is able to settle his gaze upon the Baines woman without distraction, as he says, "A pity. The headlines that would have caused would have been wonderful." His comment directed towards Leo's seeming unavailableness in regards to Val's need of a date. Here, the man takes his shot because why the hell not. "Well, seems you may have to settle for lil' ole me." He smirks. Hard to compare to a legend like Captain Leoxander, for sure. No cap, dude was a cult hero in Cenril. A boogeyman the elite talk about in their parties, and a Robinhood-esque folk hero to the lower class. It came as no surprise to see women wanting his arm at this gala. As for the bets, he does toss in a quick. "I'm eager to face any of them, to truly test my own mettle... oh! Did you know?" He asks, waiting a split second, before adding. " I have to fight a -dragon- next, but as the fates would have it, seems the fights destined to happen -in Cenril-."

Khitti said to Quintessa, "I hear that Black Pond mud is the only thing keeping Larewen from decomposing entirely. Clearly, it's a miracle!"

Leoxander caught the wooden box in his free hand and opened it up near his mouth, catching the end of a cigarette between his lips before securing it shut and stashing it in his own pocket. The familiar snip of hinged lid clapped closed after a strike of thumbprint produced a flame and the sweet scent would be noticeable to sensitive noses nearby as he exhaled a stream of smoke. Joan managed to earn herself not just a look, but a fairly dirty look when she spoke to Loravelle the way she did, her ‘Thanks!’ clearly facetious. It might not be a full on scowl Valrae would witness, but the pirate definitely didn’t look too happy. He was wondering what mistake he had made that gave people the impression he was approachable, glancing at Loravelle as if she might be to blame. Then Mahri was joining in on a conversation he wished had never taken place. “Look, I’ll go if you’ll all shut the hell up.” The lycan snapped, the breath of his words laced with some smoke. “I don’t want any bloody date. I came to watch a gadamn fight.”

Terra said to Shishi, "Hmm, Larewen?"

Khitti || Both Khitti and her son blink cutely at Mesdoram. "See, I told you he'd love it," she says to Dominic, to which he giggles cutely in response.

Ina casually jots down a small note, the likes of which would seem like another receipt to any onlooker, before casually going over towards one of the concession vendors. "Could you just...deliver a sausage over to my buddy over there. Insist n' say it's paid fer by me." Obviously, if Ina's gonna harangue Leo, she may as well give him a treat for being such a good sport. Such a good boi. It's definitely not an excuse to get the note she sent delivered his way as a secondary napkin. Okay, it is, but this is fine.

The note basically reads "Heads up boss- I'm rigging the stakes 'n yer gettin' a date. Cancel later iffun ya want- but I need ta' make a show."

Loravelle is just sittin' on her tree stump, trying to mind her business and tune out everybody else at this point. She misses Leo's glance.

Quintessa said to Khitti, "Truly a universal panacea! And it can be purchased exclusively at Black Pond Boutique."

Khitti said to Quintessa, "Take all of my money, my beautiful, brilliant daughter! *showers you with mushrooms*"

Kanna winces empathetically as the familiar is smacked to the shore as easily as a kitten swatting a bug. That thing could have been her in another life, had she not broken the fog of her curse. The momentary distraction causes the dracolich to falter slightly, which draws Kanna’s attention back to Vexar’s incantation. This was a form of necromancy she had not seen practiced yet. Warped faces of the deceased are visible as the balls of spirits rise from the river, their gazes seeming to fixate squarely upon her. Somehow, there was something familiar about this, but Kanna is not about to stand still to find out what. As they start to dart in search of their victim, Kanna climbs the spiked spinal disks of the dracolich frantically. The spirits begin their enraged convergence just as the bard makes her way into the skull of the creature. “Ya-Te-Veo, Now I See You!” Kanna calls to the staff strapped to her back. Responding to her command, the thinly braided wood separates and encircles the bard to form a protective sphere. Would her own necromancy and druidic warding be enough to stop the specters’ fear magic? In the pitch-blackness of her confines, Kanna shuts her eyes as the assault starts to seep through the barriers. “They’re not real. They’re not real…!”

Joan said to Leoxander, "I asked for an escort, it’s not a date. ‘Rani would had been my date.” *Joan reminded the lycan pirate, she needed a friend, and if she ‘thanks’ towards the maid was misconstrued, not her fault. The lycan already knew the vampiric healer didn’t show any romantic interest in him, heck she didn’t show any romantic feelings for anyone since she made herself known back here in the mainland, the once Siren had no relationships with people besides friendship.* Sorry I should had asked this in private."

Terra said to Quintessa, "Thank you. I owe you."

Khitti said to Joan, "Asking for an escort when you've got Zahrani, literal paladin of Arkhen going as your date is pretty disrespectful to Zahrani, so tread carefully, dear."

Joan said to Khitti, "She would had been my date, but she told me she was taking Bre. Sorry if you missed that part of the conversation! *sad smile.*"

Valrae offers Jaxson another impish smile. “Are you asking me on a date?” She doesn’t know about Leo’s legend. Infact, she’s hardly caught his name. She’d just capitalized on an awkward moment and decided to make it worse. Things seemed to be working out in her favor for it, at any rate. “I’ll take any excuse to buy a new dress.” Her eyes light up, her own untold joke tugging the corners of her lip before she can even say the words. “We’ll have to match, obviously. I’ll have my people call your people. You’ll look excellent in a totally lavender suit, don’t you think? Or maybe we can go with a bright pink.” She clicks her tongue again. “His loss, honestly.” The witch switches back to talk of the duels easily. “You’re fighting again?” It wasn’t until now that she realized she’d never actually asked him if he’d won his last duel. “In Cenril, on your home field? No pressure.” Her golden brows arch. “I’ll be there.” Her seriousness melts as quickly as it appears. “I can wear one of those tiny cheering outfits and bounce around on the sidelines.”

Khitti said to Joan, "Indeed."

Meri said to Magik, "About ready to head home? Between the stinky drow and all this fussing to Leoxander about dates...? I am starting to get a headache."

Magik said to Meri, "Fine with me. Shame we are too poor to buy that poor slave girl. How about a soak in our pool?"

Meri said to Magik, "We'll free that girl one way or another, patience, love. But yes, let's soak in the pool."

Leoxander half expected the note the vendor brought him with food he hadn’t requested to be: Will you go out with me?’ with yes, no, and maybe checkboxes. Not really, but clearly the wolf was not in the best mood as he reluctantly took what he was being offered with his free hand, taking one more drag from the rolled herb and dropped to plant the tread of his boot over what was left. He didn’t have much of an appetite for the snack, but was observant enough to notice the handwriting on the napkin, a glare turned over his shoulder toward the ‘orc’, as he crumpled the paper in a fisted grip. When he finally spoke again through a slight bite of his teeth, it was to Joan. “That prolly would’a avoided all this bull-...” A spectators cheer from the crowd almost censored the rogue. “I owe you. So whatever the hell ‘escortin’ will do for you, whatever that actually means, don’t expect much. An’ we’re even after that.”

Joan face palms, yup, she felt stupid now.

Jaxson allows his mind to playfully store away thoughts of Val in a cheering outfit, so he can pick on her later about it. But, be it he has just that amount of confidence, or he just got too comfortable in the moment, its honestly hard to tell, he does answer her with. "Yeah, I am asking you out on a date." The smirk he has is there to both signify he means it but also so he can defend himself against possible rejection. Seems to be a good bit of that going around the area as it is. As for her other comments regarding the matching attire. "Matching? On the first date? My, you'll have the fat-cats simply imploding in their conspiracy theories!" He continues on, adding in. "And I can make any color work, but if you wish, maybe I can pay for you to have a day with your friends, you choose your dress, the theme and color and I'll try my hardest to match?" Maybe it was the flex of the Lyastri's wealth he overheard some time ago, but he felt he had to answer in kind, I guess? Who knows why rich people do what they do. Either way, Val was given the green light to go on a shopping spree on the Ravencroft's dime. Oh my. Mahri figures Leo has this debacle well managed, even though she's giving Joan a narrow eyed look, daring the vampire to contest being even with Leo. She's not going to stick around now that Kanna has won her duel, but head out to wait for the Captain as planned. Mahri pauses to pat Lora briefly on her shoulder then she's gone in the crowd.

Kanna opens her eyes as a sudden feeling of calm washes over her. She was done being afraid. Fear was what made her obey the demigod’s commands in the first place. Fear of death, fear of losing her memories, fear of losing her appearance as a human. The branches curl away, melding back into the form of a staff in her hand. The dragon lowers its head and opens its maw, white light seeping from an unseen place in its skull as Kanna steps out onto the shore of the polluted scream. The spectres assail her, crashing over and over into her form but not taking hold as she walks directly up to Vexar. “It’s quite rude to make a lady relive every lady’s fear.” She says calmly, any trace of expression gone from her eyes. Vexar opens his mouth to reply, but any retort he would have made is cut off as the gnarled end of her staff connects with his face in a single swing. He loses balance and kneels on the filthy shoreline, recoiling for attack. “Shame there’s no curb to curb stomp with.” Satisfied with what she’s done, she calls upon her dracolich creation one last time to lift her up onto the cleaner grounds above, where she will hopefully get a clean dress and a proper bath to forget what the muddy waters of Gamorg taste like.

Mesdoram scoffs at his brother's performance as he counts his coin. "Why did you pull your punches, brother?" He stares now at Kanna with minuscule interest before speaking into the air. "Interesting... I may try to recruit you." The drow waits a little while longer to not give anyone a free show of his bum.

Joan blows out her cheeks, seems she need to apologize later to Leoxander in a private manner. She didn’t like that her grumpy friend was cross with her, and for that reason the vampiric healer takes her leave, feeling bad. Something she wasn’t use to. Laters everyone!!

Loravelle applauds Kanna's victory, and takes the bard's final blow and the sensation of Mahri's hand on her shoulder as cues that it's time to leave. She isn't really sure where once she's stood up, given she came with Leoxander. She'll third wheel if Joan is tagging along to wherever the pirate rogue is going.

Leoxander managed to finally look back toward the fight in time to see Kanna end it. "Sonuva..." The rogue wanted something to throw as he muttered, "Missed the whole gaddamn thing."

Leoxander ‘s mood was about as soured as it could get. What the hell had just happened? “I need to start punchin’ people again…” Thinking back on the day he’d ruined the festivities by getting into a fist fight with Mathollak. Brow furrowed and jaw tense, he looked over toward Loravelle, entirely planning on leaving with her, not Joan. “C’mon. We got a meetin’.”

Khitti tosses all the rest of her mushrooms in the air (and Dominic does too), before standing up and cheering on her undead friend. "You were amazing, Kanna!" Before she leaves, however, she conjures up a circle of fire around Mesdoram. She's not holding him there. He can definitely leave when he wants to. But, because he's a giant smelly butt, she's going to make it difficult for him.

Loravelle does little to hide the concern on her face at Leo's mood, but nods all the same. Meeting? "After you," she murmurs, and of course she follows immediately after him.

Valrae lets Jaxson hang for a long moment, draining the rest of her beer in the pause as she turns her eyes to the match. When she slides him another look, she returns his grin. “It’s a date then.” Her hesitation had been for show. She still couldn't quite puzzle him together though. Was he keeping her close to have a thumb on her campaign for Cenril? She hasn’t decided yet. So far, it had been fun trying to figure it out. Plus, she truly didn’t mind an excuse to wear expensive clothes and spend hours on her makeup. Valrae was a creature of hardly hidden vanity, after all. His offer to pay for said close gave her a very real pause though. She’d never been good at accepting gifts. Especially not ones that could harbor hidden strings. The next look she gives him is guarded. “I’ll consider that last part though-” Before she can say much more, the crowd erupts. Kanna is the clear victor. Valrae sets aside her empty beer to cheer along with them. “Kanna!!” She calls her name happily, making a mental note to congratulate her the next time the meet. Maybe she would bring flowers. When the noise dies down, she’s smiling at Jaxson again. “I hope you don’t have to face her. It would be a real ass kicker to have to cheer on both sides of the field.” As others start to collect their things and head out, Valrae picks up her bag again. “I’m not going to say I told you so,” She says to Jaxson, even though she had told him Kanna would wind. “But I really want to.”

Ina is -fast- at work once the illustrious Kanna pulls out a triumphant victory, if only because Kanna's victory annihilates every ounce of potential profit she could have made off the fight. Whilst those who had bet on Vexar, and on riskier propositions like a mutual KO, had helped to even the odds- It was hardly enough. And so Ina begins to clear out the various receipts and gold amounts in short order- if only so she can free herself up for the final gambit of the evening. A gambit that has the foxkin scurrying over behind a concession stand selling chintzy Titan of Winter paraphernalia, if only so she can engage in some 'shenanigans'™. In this case, that involved a bit of quick shape-changing, to alter her form from the orcs imposing stature down to- well, that of a crow, really. It sort of made rapidly changing wardrobes -really- easy when you bypassed most of the changing process. And served as the next phase for Operation Corvid: The part where Ina jacks a Titan of winter Fan shirt in her beak and flutters back to her hiding spot. Sure, it's a little bit awkward to hop forward into the shirt as a bird, but it's -infinitely- less awkward than what ensues, given that the guise Ina next chooses to shift is a bit difficult to get to the correct scale. ...Because she's shifting into a purple-scaled naga, get it? "Wha-oh? Yea-" She flexes triumphantly, in part because she's definitely more than 5'1, given the lustrous purple scaled tail stretching out behind her, as well as the manner in which she's adjusted her height so the T-shirt doesn't even cover her waist. "Wait, how much of this is considered tail, and how much is? ...Wait- right?" Ina pauses, and glances down at herself, trying to slither forward to get a better gander. Which leaves her faceplanting as she tries to get her bearings on the logistics of being a snake. There's a few more moments of struggling, before she finally gets the hang of things, From there, she dusts herself off, and plucks her things off the ground- stuffing them all into her bag of holding. "Oh, Wait." Features. Red hair turns a sleek curly black, that tumbles down over her shoulders, and her pale skin adopts a slightly more uncanny lustre (that was definitely not inspired by Kanna). Really, the only 'Ina' ish element about her now, is her luminescent emerald eyes, which are positively beaming with mischief. "...Right. I should do the thing now." Thus prepared, 'Tail' slithers around the stand, and sidles over to Leo, "Ssssssssssup."

Ina wants to foot tap, but she doesn't have feet- so she just hustles after Leo. As much as it -would- have been a great gag to make people lose by default by entering the fray, she'll just have to settle with petty theft of the dating bets given she's shed her former appearance.

Continued in: Freckles N' Scales