RP:Deal or No Deal?

From HollowWiki

Part of the Tales from the Row Arc

Synopsis: While relaxing (or not) in the Broken Barrel, the relative peace is disturbed by a confrontation between Vaduuk, from Cenril, and Leoxander, from Rynvale. An attempt at a truce is delined, and war is all but openly declared. Again.

Characters: Finn, Keturah, Leoxander, Fuan, Hanan, Vaduuk, Terra, and npcs (Mack, Ged, Vin, Dan, Dom, and Simon).

Location: Rynvale; The Broken Barrel Inn

Finn was lounging in front of the fire. Extended legs were crossed at the ankles and a glass of amber liquid was held loosely in fingers of a hand that was draped over the arm rest of the overstuffed chair. Gold flecked gaze stared unseeing at the flames that flickered in the great hearth, though the man, as ever was aware of the sounds and coming and going of those around him. The Barrel was quiet enough, in that transition between day and night that found the girls spending more time with broom than bottle, though the occasional eye was cast the red head's way in the event that he'd call for a refill.

Keturah had fared better after finally losing the damned statue. Such a feat might have been more easily accomplished if the druidess had seen fit to order it to leave her be, but the very thought of such a notion set her stomach churning. She had already been by the clinic today, and despite her assistant's absolute determination to keep her from walking about on bandaged feet, Keturah had managed to escape from him as well. She pushed her way into the Barrel alone, her ribbon looped between her fingers. The woman had hardly bothered to look about before hobbling toward the bar. "I.. am needing a bottle." She leaned over the counter, gaze seeking the barkeep. "Can I buy an entire bottle of whisky? Or maybe.. something not so strong.. now that I am thinking about it." Keturah did not sound like a lush at all, she was sure.

Leoxander appeared different, upon arrival through the front door. A hand pressed to the wood bound in leather, all but skilled fingers exposed from the roguish cut, inked and calloused. His hair was still a wreck and over his eyes but such was the norm. His frame was dressed in a black, tight buckled attire of business, blades concealed amongst ribs and fibula, beneath a skull marked jacket and shin strapped boots. Mismatched eyes grazed the interior and those who played a part of it, his path taking him to the bar where Simon would instinctively be fixing a tankard once the healer's order was fulfilled. Not a word said, there was still a resident darkness beneath his eyes but he was sober and no longer smelled like the back of Kelay Tavern.

Keturah 's gaze was upon the contents of the bottle as Simon placed it upon the bar, even as her free hand was pulling out payment. Just as the desert-born had not paid mind to anyone else in the tavern, she did not even bother to glance toward the door at the sound of another entering. Bottle paid for, the woman had begun to fasten the ribbon about the neck, only barely noticing that someone was near her at the bar. She'd finally spare a glance when the bow she tied looked as decent as she cared to make it, only to have her brows stitch together. She'd edge toward the captain, if only so that she might try to punch him in the arm. Or bump, more like. Keturah hit like a girl.

It was winter yet on the Shores, and if there was one assurance that came with that fact, it was that it was near on impossible to invite the elements in to warm interior without attracting attention. Whisky gaze focused into awareness first, with the blast of chill air, before the burnished crown turned to offer idle glance towards the breeched entrance. Fingers stirred to life, swirling the contents of glass once before it was lifted to the runner’s lips for a single swallow. Eyes tracked the female first, and then the rogue with lazy assessmnet across the room, resting a beat too long on the evidence of sleepless nights on the man before the runner leaned back again in his seat. Leoxander was geared for..work, and not of an inking nature. After the last he’d seen of the man the turnaround was more than enough to provoke curiosity. He managed it for all of four minutes before lips twitched in dry submission to the urge. He was on his feet then, a fluid motion that preceded an easy, languorous stride over to the bar where he slipped wordless into a place at the captain’s other side. “Long time…” A lie, of course. Bt that would be his secret to carry.

Leoxander enjoyed his drink before he regarded either of their words, a sidelong glance offered toward Finn with an unimpressed look. Then back behind the bar as the tankard was placed down half empty, and he managed to ask. "So which one of you broke my bloody window?" A hilarious question, considering the mess he'd left in his fight with Parsithius, but the window seemed to matter, whether it was replaced or not - it was noticed. A moment later, the door nudged open briefly again and a dark shaggy shadow made his way over to the crowd with tail wagging. Jack decided to lick at Keturah's fingers, should they be in range, first.

Keturah could actually make a decent bow, when she cared to attempt such. At that moment, fingertips were working to lace the fabric. "Twas me," this answered without looking up. "It was an accident. But it was fixed. That and I probably dropped more ink on your floor." She'd notice Jack, stop her work and stoop to give the dog a proper petting.

Finn stalled behind nudging his newly emptied glass toward Simon for a refill. Just long enough to permit Keturah that lying interjection, even if it surprised him. That the healer would chance it..but hell. No way for the rogue to discover the truth ..right? He’d have to clue Jokr in. A casual glance offered the captain, before an auburn brow was raised slightly Keturah’s way. “The hell you managed that darlin?”.. he drawled easily, “Don’t reach but a few hands off the ground yourself..” A laconic salute of glass tipped Leoxander’s way in response to his surliness.

Finn glanced up at the arrival of the male, gaze narrowing slightly at the vaguely familiar features. whatever association he made with the feline instinct declared it was not a pleasant one.

Leoxander tipped his head a few degrees. "Hell no. I'm a gentleman, I don't kiss an' tell unlike the rest of you wolfish bastards." Oh he meant for that pun, entirely. Something had him in a better mood, today. "Just consider this your warning." Drink finished, he motioned to the red head to his left. "Put it on this guy's tab." Probably rousing a smirk from Simon, who would do just that.

Keturah might have glanced Fuan's way, though she was quickly distracted by the question the Runner posed. Head swiveled toward him, and offering Jack a final scratch against his ears, the druidess grinned. "Oh.. I was mad.. and it wasn't like I reached up and hit it."

Finn snorted lightly. Head inclining in subtle agreement to the rogue's decree. Not that Simon would have cared mch if he'd objected. Things hadn't changed -that- much. "Prieciated.." he drawled dryly. "Don't reckon if it's got your paw prints on it that it'll be long before the rows are knowin'.." Eyes flickered over the man before returning to his drink. "Jus be sure to let me know if I'll be needin' to dig your blades outa my boys' backs ..or my own..aye?" A jest..that was not quite one. It was a tenouous blanance of power held between the males on the shores. And if there was one truth in their world, it was there was no honor among theives. "Wouldn't have anythin' to do with the lot that jumped the Bull would it?" Lexander's hand had been targetted..rather stupidly, for assault. A fact that made the runner restless..it could only be the work of outsiders..or fools, looking to test the reslove of those who stull held the shores in their grips.

Leoxander felt the look on him, and toward the end of it he would look back through the hair in his eyes toward Fuan. "You got something to say?"

Leoxander said to you, "Not as long as you keep them the hell outta my way, mate."

Fuan extends a hand and thwacks the table good, the sound oddly sharp. The offending hand then raises into the air, signaling to any one of the serving girls that he'd like some attention. Smiling behind the blood-stained mask as one reluctantly approaches, he gives his order and waits. He lets his now-magenta pools syphon every sight within the room. His dark gaze falls upon each figure for a moment, only to faulter upon landing upon the female. Grunting loudly as a serving girl returns with his order, he presses more than enough coin into her hands before returning the few glances that had meandered his way. His ears flick hastely, catching snippets of conversation, though he focuses on the undertones. He tilts his head slightly and laughs at the question posed, "Something to say? Quite a bit, I should say. Though, do you really wish to hear it?"

Leoxander was in a mood. The corner of his mouth ever so slightly tugged at Fuan's reply, and once Simon refilled his mug with dark rum, he'd pick up his mug to approach Faun's abused table. A hard placement of that tankard on top of it and then a squeal of a chair as Leoxander, a man who smelled of Lycan and blood that was likely not his own, sharp metal of blades and rain on leather dropped down backward into the seat with a heavily tattooed arm resting over the top. "I'm blood fascinated. Let's hear it." A faint glint of longer than natural canine teeth with that request, and mismatched eyes locked a little too intensely on the feline making a scene in the Barrel. Listening, you could say.

Keturah wiped one hand against her sash, before fingertips found the ribbon once more. That had been a fun trip to the Barrel, and there had been no more need to worry over the captain. Right? Right. Dragging the bottle from the counter and cradling it in the crook of her arm, the druidess looked as though she had every intention of slipping away. Gaze flickered toward Leoxander, then back to the feline he addressed. It would not be until Faun replied that the bottle was set back upon the countertop. Watching the two, the druidess sidled closer to Finn. Fuan twitches an ear as the male saunters over and steals a seat at his table, slamming is tankard upon the scarred table. A soft laugh fill his chest as the man sits before him and makes his demand, "Oh, are you sure? Most prefer not to hear what is on my mind." He makes a gentle nod in Keturah's direction, "I'm sure the Little Lady there can attest to such things." Without further direction, he reaches into his pack and removes a dark, black and red leather-bound notebook. Opening it and skimming to a page close to the middle, he smiles can't help but chuckle to himself, "I'm not so sure you'd like to know what I do, let alone how I feel sharing such knowledge. Besides, what's it worth to ya?"

Finn had been satisfied to answer Leoxander with a grunt. He was pretty damend sure that whatever fire the rogue intended to be starting would likely entail none of his. Not on the Shores anyways..and as such he was satisfied to await eventual revelation of the trouble when it arose. The slam against table’s surface drew another narrowed gaze Fuan’s way as glass was lifted to his lips. Loud. He hated god dammed loud people. Though the wolf seemed inclined to..listen. Red was half way to a grin when the pressure of Keturah’s body against his own drew a surprised look down to the dark head. “ What gives darlin?..” the murmur came below breath as eyes lifted to the table pairing again. “You’ve got business with the mask?”

Leoxander took that rolled smoke from behind his ear, courtesy of Faramond, placing it to his lips to reply quite bluntly. "Ain't worth the skin on your back, I'll be honest. But go ahead and get it over with so we can enjoy a damn nights peace without you over here meowling for attention, aye?" Gnomish device drawn from pocket, he flipped open a tin lid to spark a flame and light his smoke, taking a deep, cherry lit drag before exhaling a bit rudely into the feline's space. "I don't want to hear that I came over all this damn way for nothin', now." Wolf offered cat a dark look, and he took another pull from that tobacco, which wasn't his preferred leaf. Not sweet or tonic enough for his taste. Faramond appears out of nowhere, with a magical aura surrounding him.

Hanan was executing her usual entrance protocol re: The Broken Barrel: a loud-booted swagger directly to the bar, plunking a coin down, ordering a "Whisk.." Ruttin' hell. That cat. The talking cat. And he had a notebook. What the hell would a cat do with a notebook? How did it hold a pen? It had no damn thumbs. No ruttin' thumbs. She couldn't imagine a life without thumbs. "..key." She blinked at Simon, turned back to look at Fuan again, then gave Red and Keturah an annoyed look. "Godsdamn place never gets sane.

Keturah 's expression did not quite convey the hope that the feline would open his mouth and say something that would get him killed. As it seemed she was hoping for far too much, the druidess barely managed to quirk her brow when attention was directed her way. Instead, she'd murmur a soft, "I'm rather hoping he gets eaten. Tis all," glancing up toward Finn, then back to the door as Hanan made her own entrance.

Keturah said to Hanan, "I try not to expect sanity in places that serve alcohol. "

Leoxander said to Hanan, "No one recruited you to loiter your ass about, Doll. I'm sure you can make leave on a holler." Fuan clicks his teeth together excitedly, the laugh turning into a deep purr. Lifting a hand, he fans the smoke idly as he removes the dark mask, setting it on the table. His chisled features were marred by a dangerous glint in his eyes and a fang-baring grin, "Now now, no need to be so brash. If the information I have isn't worth anything to you, why would you want to hear it, hmmm? I will share one snippet of research I have gathered, just for referencing sake. Did you know, one can keep a living creature, in this example a rather large buck, technically alive without its head for a good week with semi-constant attention?" He spares a glance once more to the female, a brow raising slightly as he sticks out his tongue playfully.

Leoxander looked calmly back to his table 'companion'.

Vaduuk appears out of nowhere, with a magical aura surrounding him.

Leoxander said to Fuan, ""You're damn serious, now. First you're complainin' nobody bloody cares to hear the rubbish that comes out of that fish trap of yours, now you're braggin' that it ain't worth my time?" A pause as he absorbed that 'tidbit' of information, and then the Captain inclined his head for a more focused, narrowed eyed look upon the male. He'd question, very lowly, "How 'bout cats?"

Leoxander offered a glance to the thick neck of the male, idly.

Hanan said to Leoxander, "I am not a gods damn talkin' cat, skinpricker. Phantom of the bar, there? Smells like the damn talkin' cat."

Leoxander turned a look at Hanan, slowly. "The hell did you call me?"

Hanan smirked. "It's an honorable trade, skinprikin'. You should be proud of it." Oh, there's her whiskey.

Leoxander continued to sit in his chair backward, albeit more tensely, now. Leoxander corrected Hanan, once. "Captain." Despite her own title.

Finn raised a skeptic brow at Keturah’s odd dissention. “Don’t reckon you’ll have much of a problem getting’ that wish if he plays too deep with the wolf.” Hanan’s arrival was noted with a nod of greeting and a lazy salute, though eyes drifted back to the discussion of the pair at the table. Movement at the foot of the stairs drew his attention however..and provoked a furrow of brow. Now? His raised brow queried that body lurking in the shadows. And he was pushing to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me ladies, reckon there’s some unfinished business that needs dealin’ with in the parlor. I’ll be down in a bit.” Another hard glance spared Fuan’s direction and the runner was ambling toward the stairs to disappear into the shadows there.

Fuan leans back in his chair and lets loose a playful laugh. Shaking his head, he rests his elbow upon the table and his chin to palm at the exchange. He closes the notebook lightly and just sits, swirling gaze molten as his deep, seductive voice oozes from him softly, "Even cats...but with that, so too wolves."

Leoxander let his sharp look drift back to Fuan, for the moment.

Leoxander stood after a last drag of his smoke, stubbing it out and offering Fuan a firm pat of a calloused hand to the cheek, so long as his unmasked face didn't dodge it. "Good bit of info, nine-lives. I'll be expecting more in the future." One last look drifting to Hanan as he picked up and finished off his mug, clearly preparing to depart the scene, for the time being.

Leoxander said to Simon, "Put this one's on the Runner's tab, too." A motion of his jaw to Fuan's drink.

Keturah lost Finn. She'd turn her head to where he had been at her side, gaze following after the redhead as he made his way up the stairs. That ass. She'd remember this if he ever needed to duck beside her to get away from.. A woman? Her nose scrunched, and she'd turn her attention back upon the conversation at the table. Fuan had not even managed to get himself eaten. Bloody hell. The druidess frowned, and moved to recollect her bottle. She'd more than likely be taking her leave of the place as well.

Vaduuk barges into the Barrel, though he hardly seems to be up to any trouble. Indeed, he seems rather relaxed, despite his entrance. Or maybe that's annoyed. It's probably annoyed, judging by the look on his face as the next man walks in, slurring drunkenly as he jokes - loudly - with four others that enter with him. "-had a fashe of a whale, an' a blowhole to match!" that drunk man's saying, the men with him bursting into raucous laughter...and causing the half-orc to put his face in his palm, groaning. "Mack. Shut up. This ain't Cenril." "S'what?" A groan. The quintet venture off to their own table while Duke stands more towards the entrance, sending his eyes scanning across the room. Yeah, this isn't Cenril. That's why his body is littered with sheathed knives, why there's two daggers at his waist...why he actually has his sword sheathed on his back. It's why his lips are pursed thin over his short tusks. Hells, he could almost pass for a human, that behemoth of a man, with his lip covering those tusks. He just looks like he has a severe underbite. Not that anyone really pays attention to such a tall stranger with such dark skin and littered with weapons. For all they know, or care, he's just some new guy off a ship from the south.

Fuan sat calmly as the male made move to pat his cheek, unconcerned. His fangs once more make an appearance as a clawed hand finds its way to tap the male's elbow, "We'll see how well that works out for us, no? My information doesn't always come cheap." He takes a sip of his coconut milk, a malicious gleam in his eyes. Turning his gaze sharply, he pushed himself from his seat and steps around the 'captain', meandering gracefully over to the lycaness who had been abandoned. Stopping a 'safe' distance away, he bows with a deep flourish, "M' Lady."

Leoxander seemed to be waiting for this moment. Holding his almost empty mug, standing, the rogue spoke out toward the still familiar posse, lost in a haze. "...'ey Duke." He seemed to look right through the orc, Mack, whoever else surrounded him tonight. The pirate also appeared rather amused by his entrance.

Leoxander placed his empty mug calmly on the bar for Simon with a few steps. He was dressed tonight, in more than a shirt and pants and a smell of rum and whiskey. Tonight sharp eyes drove through hearts to regard the gang's leader.

Vaduuk frowns. Gods damn Mack and Dom for spouting his name off that night. Gods damn them always being drunk. Just...gods damn them. If they weren't his friends, he'd beat them. He tips his head to that call of his name, barely motioning for that posse of his that suddenly fell silent - except for Mack - to stay where they are, but motioning nonetheless. "Oi," is his own greeting, no real hello, no name. Hells, he doesn't even know Leo's name.

Leoxander knew his name. Not necessarily through just Mack and Dom and Fred, or whoever he'd hit that night. He noticed he'd gotten to the leader of that group already, with a greeting. Tonight was just his damn night. "Why don't you an' I have a chat?" Said in such a casual, coaxing way, a squint of heterochromatic eyes encouraging he not decline the leather clad rogue. A few slow steps forward taken, his direction toward old Mack, who was at least polite enough to acknowledge him with a sound. "What'dya say, Mack? I'll buy you a drink, maybe we'll shoot the barrel, have a good chat about what's goin' on these days..." As though they were all good friends.

Keturah , cradling her decorated bottle of whisky, had only managed to step a few paces toward the door before the gang made their appearance. Too crowded. One hand moved to scratch at her curls, eyes narrowing on Fuan and drifting past him again to the doorway. Freckled nose wrinkled, and with a low murmur in her native tongue, the druidess found a seat on a barstool. Facing the taproom, she'd allow her legs to kick idly, clicking her nails against the glass in quiet rhythm.

Vaduuk is the only one who doesn't perk up at hearing about free booze. True enough, the five at the table break out with a cheer, acting just as chummy as Leo is towards them. Mack, of course, introduces the lot. "Ged," a skinny little redhead nods, looking for the life of him barely into his teens, "Vin," an older gent, probably in his early thirties and with salt-and-peppered hair, "Dan," a twenty-something year old with cheeks chubby enough to look like a baby, "an' y'already met Dom." A soft growl, deep and barely audible, but the glare he's shooting Mack has the drunk gulping. "Mack. Shut. Up." He makes his way over to the table, but he doesn't sit, instead hoping to intimidate the pirate with his 6'4, burly frame, trying to use his orcish heritage to his advantage as he crosses his thick arms over his chest. "What do you want?" Call it the mercenary in him, but he'll at least always hear out a deal. Whether he accepts or not, however...

Fuan watches the woman fidget and look for an escape before finally coming to be seated once more. He couldn't help but lick his bottom lip at the display given to him, finding her utter withdrawal from him somewhat...enticing. Stepping up behid her, he remains out of arms reach, for her own benefit, "Hello M' Lady. It has been far too long since I have caught wind of such a..deliscious scent, and imagine my surprise to finally see you again. How havbe you been, since our last meeting, if I might ask?"

Leoxander said, "Have a seat, gentlemen..." The rogue speaks to the crowd of those introduced, jawing toward a table, which in their excitement might leave Duke behind or at least aside for the lycanthrope in human form to make his way through, to. He stands before the gang leader, not overly tall or overly intimidating in a glance. Tattooed, concealed, dressed in leather that would not prevent wounds. Scars to prove he didn't care. A slow look following when he follows after the posse toward said table, while Simon's serving girls take part to flaunt their voluptuous curves and serve promised, cheap drinks. Not that this sort would know expensive. It was here Leoxander would issue his one and only warning to Duke. Didn't matter how many men he had with him tonight. Leo wasn't drunk. "I suggest you have a seat, and we be civil about this..."

Leoxander motioned to the last remaining seat.

Keturah said to Fuan, "Kindly piss off."

Leoxander teased, lowly. "Language, Doll."

Hanan ::"Fine!" muttered Hanan, and it really wasn't so long as it seemed, honestly, after Leoxander's demand."Fine. Captain Skinpricker." She turned back to the bar, leaned her elbows on it, took a slow sip of her whiskey.

Keturah shot Leo a scowl.

Leoxander would help Hanan with her pronunciation when he wasn't otherwise occupied. Mhm.

Terra is a little surprised to catch sight of Vaduuk but that wouldn't be conveyed. She just frowned and ended up settling into a seat near Hanan.

Vaduuk isn't entirely surprised by Leo's lack of care for the stature difference. Not that he'll even show the man what little surprise there might be in that head of his. He's a mercenary. You never show the client that they have the upper hand. It makes for bad deals. "I'm bein' perfectly civil," he says, still not bothering to sit. "Ain't a one of m'boys with their blades at yer throat, or m'self with any drawn. See? Civil." It might make sense, or it might just seem a bunch of bull manure. He does eye a few of the bar maids that display their...wares, his height giving him some advantage to getting a good look. Well, he -is- a male. "So what is it ye're wantin'?" He'd be more polite and use the man's name if he knew it, but what can you do? Fuan smiles slightly at the words graced upon his ears, though the smile quickly fades, "Now then, what have I done to deserve such treatment? I've done nothing to you in quite some time that might have been considered...negative, no? I was hoping for quite some...no, forget that. I know that such things are unwelcome, but your words sting. I've never done you true harm, and never intend to let anything of such a nature occur..." His words trail off, his eyes turning solid, sharp ebon stones.

Keturah 's fingernails still clicked against the bottle, gaze dragging slowly back to the feline. "If I was not so sure that pain made your little soldier stand at attention, I would be doing you harm, Fuan. Leave me alone."

Leoxander replied lowly, confused and disturbed, with a squint of his eyes. "You're nervous. Granted, I was pretty blazed the other night. Me an' 'yer boys' were jess havin' some fun, Duke, weren't we boys?" He offered a brief glance at the crowd and walked dangerously close to Vaduuk, himself, to take that last seat at the table, casually. Instead of speaking to the one standing, he'd relax forward on his seat to rest his tattooed arms on the table. "Here's the trouble, boys. That city you're all causing trouble in. It's a waste. There ain't a thread of gold coming through on trade and when the dragon gets back, he'll raze it to flame when he sees what you lot are makin' of it." The nearest one, Mack, Dom, maybe even just a different patron who happened to join the table and the party would lose their drink for a moment when Leo picked it up to sample, pausing for effect, and response, and observing everything around him.

Finn said to Fuan, "I reckon you might want to do as the lady asks mate.." The drawl was cold. Hard. It preceeded the emergence of the runner from the shadows at the base of those stairs. Predatory, and deceptively lazy strides brought him over to where the pair spoke, and eyes were pinned upon the feline. "Now."

Finn would glance Terra's way, a quiet nod offered in greeting, but the elf would understand a greater riority at the moment.

Finn said to Keturah, "" You all right Pet?"

Faramond stepped into the tavern, a cigarette between his lips as he swaggered to the door. A tap on the bar was given to order a drink from the bar, giving his order and picking up his drink. The rogue's head snapped around, Vaduuk... Leo... Could he trust the pirate yet? Probably not, but a shake of his head was given as he watched the people and their exhanges, not willing to barge in on them just yet.

Hanan said to Terra, "I hate this place. I really do."

Fuan quirks a brow slightly, a dark spark passing through his gaze. Bowing once more, he turns on his heel and looks over his shoulder, "It is too bad you feel as such, M' Lady. perhaps the games shall just have to start once again, hmmm?" He turns his gaze to the Runner as a grin splays across his lips, "I leave by her request, not yours. Be sure to know this, ~friend~." he nods slightly to the male before gliding to the door, pushing his way slowly and allowing his ground-eating stride carry him off to whatever might calm his nerves sufficiently.

Terra said to Hanan, "Just the people."

Keturah turned an appreciative stare upon the Runner, answering him with a nod and quietly spoken 'thank you'. It was not until Fuan left that the druid's expression crumpled into exasperation. "What am I supposed to do? I've already tried stabbing him."

Keturah murmured a few of those newly learned curses below her breath.

Hanan said to Terra, "Mostly the people, yeah. Where the hell've you been?"

Dom cries out as his drink is pilfered, and he hoards it covetously when it's set back down. But this talk of Cenril, it has the entire group silent past that, two of the sober ones even giving Leo something of a glare. "Now, now," the Duke is saying as he circles around the table, stopping only when he's across the way from the pirate. "Some of us still see some worth in th'place. Ain't none of us fightin' just fer the hells of it." He leans forward, hands curled into fists, knuckles set against the surface to support the big man's weight. "Might be that we're even fightin' ta get things goin' again, 'stead of bein' split like she is." A hearty 'hear-hear' from Mack, but he's drunk, so what does he really count for? "What're you wantin' from Cenril? Ain't gettin' Kingsley's head, if ye ain't heard the news."

Finn 's lips twitched in a grin. "Stab him again?.." eyes drifted over her shoulder to Hanan. "No you don't Cat.." Hate the people. Eyes settled on Terra then, gentled as calloused fingers lifted in unconscious and familiar gesture to brush jaw line. "You're back.." And none the worse for wear it seemed.

Terra saluted Finn and tried to keep an eye on all the scenes unfolding. Unfortunately she didn't have enough of them nor the attention span so she turned back towards Hanan. "Making new friends..." Now she studied Vaduuk hard and his constant companions, tried to avoid the leering glances. When all else failed she would look to Simon for a drink. "Where have you been?"

Keturah looked like she was considering going through with Finn's suggestion. Aurelia entered apprehensively, but that was due to the sudden rush of how many people it seemed congregated within the confines of the Inn she had found earlier that morning. It had been deathly empty at the spoken of time, so her skin crawled beneath her black clothing at the horrendous possibility of brushing against others. It was this hidden dislike that had her going out of her way to walk around the others and make for the bar. It was not a drink she was after, more information. Curious by nature, she liked to learn about the coming and goings, even if she chose most of the time to stay out of it. As for the figure behind the counter, she offered a dip of her dark head before turning her silver gaze to the array of bottles behind him. "Water please."

Leoxander sat back in his chair drinkless, looking past the glares to Duke. That was who he really wanted to talk to. "What're you fighting for? A place to drink? You know you damn well belong here on this isle. And if you're here, you're working." He didn't need to explain who for. One pirate walked that place as 'Captain', and he'd make certain of that tonight. With Hanan. With Duke. With Mack, or Dom or Fuan or whoever else had been given a bit too much slack in his absence. "Let's get your boys a place to hive here, and we'll get that city under control an' figure out what the hell it's good for." One point made clear that he would impress, more clearly, as he started to sit up. "It'll be under my order, not yours. You wanna sit beside me or six feet under, friend?"

Leoxander was kind enough to offer a choice, then.

Terra said to Finn, "Yes, back. I just stepped out for tea..."

Faramond shook his head, did he just hear that right? Leo would get a talk to after this, but he decided to let the pirate fly, after all... He inherently had to put some small amount of trust in the man, right? Faramond took a sip of his drink, looking over at Keturah, "Neuter 'im."

Leoxander did not pay any attention to Faramond, at all.

Ged and Dan almost leap from their seats, grumbling 'why I oughta's and 'you sonnuva's, but a growl and a look from Duke has them both sitting again. "Ye ain't got the right," he says, calm as can be while he remains there, hunched over and staring with almost empty eyes at the lycan. "I ain't seen you once over there fightin' with Kingsley, the Crow, hells even with the Burnhams. The Burnhams are trash, an' even they fought fer their turf. But you?" He snorts, waving a hand dismissively. "We ain't all jus' fightin' fer a place ta drink. Some are, some ain't, an' some are jus' fightin' ta fight. But ya know what? We're all fightin' fer home." Eloquent, this half orc. Maybe even a bit idealistic. Just how the hells did he wind up in his line of work?

Keturah said to Faramond, "That is a charming idea," She'd smile and glance toward the male before her eyes dropped to the the ribbon on her bottle. "You should be more sympathetic though. Given that you and he are after the same thing.~"

Hanan shrugged. "Yeah, I do, Red. Most of 'em." She turned back toward the bar, took another sip of her whiskey. "I was right here. Just... muckin' around."

Terra said to Hanan, "Missed me too much, did you?"

Finn had settled into a seat at the bar. Now that Fuan's presence had been addressed, the man was free to pay attention to the scene unfolding across the room, and in particular between the half orc and the wolf. Ah. He could almost feel the release of the lock as answers fell into place. Cenril. He didn't know how, or why..but the captain had set his sights to that piss hole of a city. The Razor was dead, Burnham too..so. So. Eyes narrowed with attentive focus, the runner content to simply gather information for the moment..as were, it seemed any number of others. The man was not ignorant of the comings and goings in the room. There was only one gathering however, that might have an impact on his profit margin..and that was the gathering that had his attention.

Faramond shakes his head, "Hardly, Ketu... Don't want to stab me, do ya?" His brow was quirked as he watched Keturah, smirking.

Leoxander retorted a little firmer now, his voice raising only slightly, just enough to let the Duke and the others know he meant to be heard. "I don't give a damn what you've got suddenly going on against the piece of filth stand ins they call 'guards' in that deadbeat town, I know the g'damn ancient phantom dragon that owned that crap of land before you set FOOT in livin'." He snarled a bit when he spoke to emphasize he spoke truth. "You ever see those battleships off the coast and wonder who they're waiting for, boy?!" A loud question presented to 'Vaduuk', which silenced all else in the tavern for just a moment.

Leoxander said, "Cenril is mine before it's damn well anyone's. And if you want to work with me, we might be able to come to an accord. Savy?"

Keturah had begun to idly untie the ribbon, though a smile tugged. "You keep bribing my damn bird and I might consider it.~" Eyes lifted to Fara, and she flashed a sweet smile.

Faramond glanced at Leoxander as he got louder, giving a smaller whistle, smirking at Keturah, "Stab me, I'll still get him fish... I like that one... Birds of a feather." Him and Haerion definitely were those to flock together, but he moved to leave, watching Leoxander as he left. A grin. This might even end up being more entertaining than he thought.

Hanan said to Terra, "Hell no. It was nice not to have someone puttering around outside my door wonderin' if I'm goin' to slit my wrists or not..." She smirked there. "So I only missed you a little. Are you going to drink or not?"

Terra said to Hanan, "Unfortunately it wouldn't kill you. I would still be stuck. And if you're my company for the evening? Hell yes. I'm drinking."

Vaduuk just stares at the man across from him silently. "Boys, git." "Duke, we ain-" A pound of his fist on the table, and Duke's glaring at Dom. "I said git." The quintet stare at Duke for a moment, stare at Leo...and get up. Drinks are left, Mack's dragged away from his, and soon enough they're gone. "Lemme make m'self clear," he says coldly to the pirate across the way. "I ain't followin' you. I ain't followin' that Rynnie bastard what came and demanded I work fer him, either. Ye want Cenril? Ye gotta get through her gangs. Know what that means? Ye gotta get through Fredlark an' m'self an' the rest of what was Kingsley's crew. Ye gotta get through the Crow. Hells, the Burnhams'll probably even pitch in against ye. Ain't no guards there ta be fightin' ta get in our way, either. Ye sure this is the road ye wanna walk?"

Leoxander made something very clear with his very calm reply. "Then you're against me. Just like them." And he would pick up one of the boys' left drinks and wait for Duke to leave with a locked-on look. This was his territory, after all.

Leoxander drank a rum.

Leoxander said to Vaduuk, "Enjoy living."

Finn lifted drink to his lips..watched..and listened.

Hanan grinned, turned her head. "Sy, get blondie here something strong. Maybe mix a couple strong things together, huh?" Her mood seemed better, considerably better, though there was still a hint of melancholy in her. She was past weeping. "Anyway... really, where were you?" She pointed her chin at Leoxander. "Not playin' overdramatic with wolfie there, I hope?"

Vaduuk snorts, lifting himself from the table and shaking his head. "Ain't against ye so long as ye ain't fightin' in Cenril an' tryin' to take the place. Ye want work done here on the island? I'll do work fer ye. Ye want stuff done elsewhere on the mainland? I'll do work there. All for the right price, o' course. But I ain't workin' fer ye in Cenril, and I ain't lettin' ye take her from her people." He doesn't leave the pub, though he doesn't remain by the lycan. No, there's a bar, and he's thirsty and has a headache. From the whole conversation, sure, but mostly from Mack. Gods damn Mack. "Barkeep," he calls as he settles himself on a stool. "Lemme get a whiskey." It's as he's looking down Simon's way that he spies Terra and grins. "An' the blonde's drinks're on me."

Leoxander sat at an empty table with three unfinished drinks. He was content there.

Leoxander said to Vaduuk, "I'ma say this once more for the orc side of you..." Could see it, maybe. "Cenril's mine."

Leoxander lifted Dom's drink in a bit of salute, of farewell.

Leoxander said, "G'bye."

Hanan glanced form Vaduuk to Terra, to Vaduuk, to Terra. Huh?

Finn's eyes followed the half orc across the room, narrowed slightly as he settled in next to Terra, but pushed himself aimlesly to his feet and drifted toward that empty table with drink in hand. Glass settled against its surface. "Well now.." it was a quiet drawl. " That took less time than I was figurin' it would." Eyes fell to vacated seat, gold flecked gaze asking silent question. It seemed the runner desired..a chat.

Terra has been identified by hair color twice now from two different people. Neither sounded like a compliment, per se... Simon is acting by Hanan's request but it was Terra that paid for that particular tab to try and ease Hanan's confusion. "I took a trip... Cenril happened to be one of the places."

Terra did nod towards Duke in acknowledgement of both the offer and his presence. "You won't find tea here..."

Hanan gave the orc a suspicous look while he tried to order a drink for Terra. Simon, for his part, just delivered a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He knew simple was better. "Why the hell would you go to Cenril? Now? With all that shyte goin' on?"

Keturah would push herself from her seat, and make her own way from the inn, but not without pausing near the Captain's table to whisper to Red.

Keturah whispered to Finn, "Thank you, again, Chirya."

Leoxander drank his drink. Exciting. A look offered to 'Red'. Bored.

Vaduuk chuckles, a deep rumble that feels good to the half orc at that point. After his just-ended conversation, laughing is needed. "Ain't after tea," he says as his whiskey is delivered. Yes, the whiskey is delivered. He hasn't started a brawl, after all, to warrant not being served, and he's paying coin. Criteria for being served? Met. "Ain't no bushes fer ye to hide in here, either." Hanan is regarded, nodded to. Even appraised. Again, he's a man. He'll appraise any woman if they're attractive enough. "So a dainty thing like yerself can handle liquor, eh?" To Terra, of course, complete with a little bit of a teasing smirk.

Leoxander notices Vaduuk still occupying the tavern. As he's more or less declared himself in the ranks for Cenril, Leo finishes Dom's drink pondering whether or not this classifies him as an enemy. If Simon weighed service on battle, he'd never serve Leo, but yet, the rogue had financed repairs on the place, allowed more business through cards and smuggling to come by, so it was more than drinks and business that mattered here, 'Duke'.

Finn said to Leoxander, "Always had a way with words.." It was dry. And he took the lack of a no for a yes and lowered himself into a seat, eyes drifting toward the halfling and elf at the bar again. "Got it covered?." It was likely as close as the runner would get to offering his muscle, and those of the men under his influence. "Can't figure what you'd see worth havin' in the damned place anyway" Though..all things considered the runner would rather deal with a devil he knew than one he didn't on the other side of the water.

Leoxander offered beneath his breath. "I'd welcome him to try something at this point." In case it hadn't registered the other night when Mack and Dom met another 'Drunk' he was searching for a fight. Duke was half way there and inching closer for every moment he lingered in the barrel, as far as the rogue was concerned. "Better than not havin' the place. Not like I'm gonna keep it. But I'm damn well gonna decide who does my business there." This muttered as he sought another drink in hand, revealing very little of his intentions in his attitude.

Hanan had the sudden, violent urge to punch Vaduuk right in his damn nose, taking that tone with Terra. Dainty little thing. Only she and other friends got to say things like that, and only because they didn't mean it. No, it wasn't rational. So her look got understandably a bit more hostile. She took another sip of whiskey.

Terra could feel as everything started to slowly shift. It was an unnerving feeling. A look over shoulder and she studied Leoxander for a long moment and if she happened to catch his eye, he was saluted before she turned back around. And then Duke was watched. What brought him to this side of the water? Not really an answer she needed to know, she supposed. So she poured herself a drink and gritted teeth at the initial burn. "Probably better than the bigger guys." Probably not. Oddly she placed an arm on the back of Hanan's chair as she caught that look but didn't say anything in regards to it. "You know... you've got enough battles to fight on the other side of the water. You sure you're looking to pick up more over here? 'cause you aren't ... making friends." A grimace, head tilted towards the table where business was still being discussed in a not-so subtle gesture of who she meant.

Finn leaned back in his seat, legs extended to cross at his ankles again. A quiet grunt was all that was offered to the rogue's reply. "Reckon you know where to find me.." It seemed the runner was capable of learning some lessons after all. Here, and now would not be the time for such a conversation in any event. The orc had some.. something.. balls or folly, to stay in the Barrel after drawing a line in the sand. Eyes flickered to Simon. The Halfling had been served..but with what? The keep knew where his bread was buttered. "If you need supplies runnin'.." he completed his thought as if he'd never intended to cut it short. Couldn't fight a damned war without muscle and metal.

Vaduuk shrugs those massive shoulders of his, swirling that whiskey of his around in its mug. "Ain't my fault he demanded I work with 'im against my own home." A swig of the drink is taken...and is instantly spit right back into the mug. He doesn't say anything about it to the barkeep, but he certainly wrinkles his nose as he looks into that mug. That's alcohol? It tastes like piss. And he's been pissed on before, so he'd know. "But no, I ain't here ta fight. Need a break from it all sometimes, ya know?" He pushes the mug away. He's far too calm, far too civil. What gives? "Anywhere else ta drink around here?" He doesn't know why Hanan's looking at him like that, and he doesn't much care. He's just sighing. Yes, somewhere else to drink.

Leoxander was the one to stand and leave. This was never a good sign. A black dog joined him from somewhere amidst the room to escape out the door before it fell closed, hard.