RP:Hanging Out At The Hanging Corpse

Summary: After hunting a mysterious creature in the city of vampires and undead beings, a bloody Aira decides to get a drink from the Hanging Corpse Tavern before heading back up north to Frostmaw. Larewen, Killian, and Artia arrive before her and converse and enjoy some refreshments of their own, later to be joined by a barefoot Orvho. Lanara, back in Vailkrin to pick up some leeches for an ill doe, decides to linger in order to meddle in Aira’s relationship with Orikahn and offer tips on how the pair can get engaged. Barnabas soon joins the frenemies and all three discuss ships, animals, and a future adventure.

The Hanging Corpse Tavern

Larewen enters the tavern quietly, a gust of wind seemingly casting the door open before her. As is most common, the necromancer can be felt by those sensitive to magic as she arrives. The woman’s appearance is a few shades more pale than normal, no doubt having yet to fully replenish the blood within her. She wears a simple, green gown with a swooping neckline that hugs her torso and hips, and her dark brown hair hangs in loose waves around her face, covering the right side of her throat where a bite mark is still healing.

Killian is dressed in a shade of green not far-off from the Elder's gown, the deeper hue pulling out the subtler yellows in his seafoam gaze. Booted feet carry him into the Tavern behind Larewen purposefully; his gaze following the gentle sway in her hips as she led him deeper inside. Once the door closes behind him, the fledgling pauses to take in all the newness that his heightened senses offer. He could see clearer in the darkness of the bar, hear the heartbeats of every patron within its walls and smell- there was a sudden wrinkling of his nose and black hair was sent over his shoulders for the shake of his head. Maybe he shouldn't use that sense here.

Aira kicks open the door of the establishment and strides in looking like she very much belongs in the dark city. A smear of crimson stains her right cheek and blood droplets dot the ground, leaking from a sanguine blotted satchel at her hip, as she meanders across the tavern in favor of sitting at the counter. Her bow is pulled across her body and gory arrows clatter against one another in the quiver on her back. Her longer platinum locks have been pulled back in a high ponytail, leaving her shaved side exposed. The huntress's expression is one of boredom as she makes no move to look about the establishment at the other patrons. Copper eyes squint at the bottles behind the bar and she scowls, her vulpine tail giving an agitated twitch. "Dark ale," she orders gruffly once she has Steadmen's attention.

Lanara breezes into the tavern, wrinkling her nose in disgust, as she was certain there would be a fair amount of blood suckers here on this evening. The witch wasn’t one to often travel to Vailkrin, yet she was here for the second time this month, on yet another errand. Steadman glowers at Lana, as the last time he laid his eye upon the woman; she was asking about if he dreamed on a split screen. Yes, she was inebriated, but that didn’t excuse her behavior about his disability. With an exasperated sigh, he slides a small container of leeches across the counter, and she deposits a few copper into his palm for any trouble. “Thanks! This should help suck the infection out of the fawn’s wound. I appreciate it!” About to exit, she hears a few catcalls from a group of men in the corner, all ogling her legendary derriere. The way the leather pants hug her curves only enhances the lust they feel, and Lana rolls her eyes, though it’s then that she sees her best frenemy. Aira sits further down the bar, bloody, and with her trusty bow, clearly not desiring company. So, naturally, Lana slinks over to the blonde, and plops onto a stool at her side. “Long night?”

Artia had just got back to the city hours ago, given Kargrol back his cloak and did a quick wash to get any dried blood as well dirt off her pale flesh. Having to missed speaking to Larewen and Killian earlier, she figured she could find the two here. It was that day of the week she knew the two would be here, and from what she was told she wanted to see for herself. Entering the tavern with slow strides, still recovering from her weeks absence with fighting then healing the dragon. Signs of the fighting were apparent upon her form, some wounds from his claws still working on healing. Other spots from the dragon’s blood getting upon her when helping to aid him, mostly her palms and fingertips showed the burns. While the rest of her remained covered by the baby blue silk wrap dress with simple lace straps, matching the lace that decorates upon the frill of the skirt. Upon her neck on both sides were bites from the dragon, the right side looking more beastly than the left. Artia indeed looked like she been in fierce battles, and she moved to an empty table. Pulling out a sheath from the garter she used to hold it, the dragon had crafted from his own horns and scales, a parting gift one could say. The sheath same color as the scales black and gray, neatly put together to fit the knife perfectly. Pulling out such, revealing Black dragon horn blade and a handle which was light around the edges but the grip on the sides were made of his scales. The blade was just under seven inches in length, with a high point with a flat grind, leading to an extremely strong point, the front edge of the meets the back edge at an angle, rather than a curve, with serrated ridges on the back near the handle. On the handle on either side there is carved an eye meant to represent his. The handle also has what looks like a simple trigger on the side where the main finger would grip and what looked like an almost invisible button that could be pressed by her thumb on the opposite side. Twirling the blade upon the table top, causing a fanged grin to spread her ruby red lips. With those with good sense of smell, could pick up that she had a hint of Jakushka upon her even after washing. “Whiskey, as usual.” She would order when the waiter came over to her. Cyan blues with gold starburst within looked about, spotting Larewen and Killian. Killian would get the most of her gaze, noting how much different he looked as missing a heartbeat. Such caused her smile to grow, happy for Larewen and Killian. Seeing Lanara, she would whisper to the waiter to deliver something to her and make sure she knew who it was from.

Artia gave 1 Frost-Fire Rose to Lanara.

Aira doesn't even look Lanara's way when the witch plops down beside on the stool beside her. The huntress doesn't even bother to answer her frenemy at first, opting to take a long, slow sip from the bottle of ale before she speaks. "Don't even ask why I'm here," she grunts a warning, her vulpine ears flattening atop her head. She knew Lana had a propensity for asking nosy questions and she wanted to head that off before she began. "Just stopping for a drink before I head back north. What brings you to Vailkrin?" Aira asks the witch with a quirk of her brow.

Killian looked the same as he always had, except his skin was losing that tan he'd always held, and the virus now running through him seemed to have melted away the softness of his mortal form. The half-elf moved with a slow, steady gait to the chair that Larewen had chosen for the evening, and without asking her order he would step closer to the bar to purchase a bottle of bloodwine for her table and a single flute. The beverage would be delivered in person, a wink offered to the Elder as she sat back and watched her newest addition reenter society; or devour it. Artia earned Ian's attention then, and booted feet would carry him her way to greet her with a wave and dip of his head, "Evening."

Lanara scowls as the waiter places a rose beside her ale, hesitant to lift it in her fingertips and take an obligatory sniff. It was likely from one of those ill-mannered men in the corner that were all elbowing each other and pointing in her direction. The witch understands their desire, as she’s one of the few in this establishment with a heart that still actually beats, and a slightly tanned complexion. “Which one?” Lana hisses, fixing the waiter with an intimidating glare, though her expression changes as she locks eyes with Artia sitting at a table. A palm is pressed to her lush lips, as she blows the vampire a sweet kiss and smiles warmly. She’d be sure to go and greet her guild mate, once she finished pestering Aira, who is sending an inquiry her own way. Snapping to attention, Lana tucks the unique flower behind her tapered ear, nestling it before chestnut tresses. “I had to pick up some leeches, as I rescued a doe last week. She had to have surgery on a wound on her abdomen, and sadly, it refuses to heal. She’s also running a fever, and I heard that leeches would suck out any bad blood… So I came to the realm of blood drinkers, and they didn’t disappoint…” She waits a beat, before dropping the bombshell, “So… Last night I drank with your mate. He told me that you two are already wed?! Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding!?”

Lanara said to Artia, "Thank you, dear!"

Artia watched at Ian moved over to her, extending her hand offering him to join her. Offering him a wiggle of her crispy left hand as a manner of wave back, dipping her head. “Evening, Ian. I see much as changed while I was away.” Returning a kiss and wink to her favorite witch. Attention moving back to her best drinking pal, “How are you fairing with being reborn?”

Barnabas stepped in from the night to the Hanging Corpse, and lifted a sleeved arm to his eyes for a moment as he squinted against the light of the wrought iron chandelier and other lights of the tavern. Once his pupils acclimated to the room, they swept over its patrons in a most scrutinizing way. The pirate looked visibly out of place in the dark and austere drinking hole -and judging from that deep-set scowl on his face, the detour that brought him here must have been absolutely necessary. He appeared to be traveling light, with only a small oilskin bag slung over his shoulder to carry whatever it was that brought him to this unholy city. Long deliberate strides carried him towards the bar, whereupon he gave Steadman a brisk few words. "Bottle o' wine, corked an' proper sealed if ye please," he said, while he removed the leather tricorn from his head and placed it upon the polished stone counter and began to search a purse secured at his waist for an appropriate amount of coin to secure his request.

Killian dipped his head once more, and a finger tapped on the bar in silent request for a glass. "Yes. Apparently took the whole time you were away." There was a smirk, and he'd reach out to claim the tumbler just before it was set on the bar before him. "What happened to you?" His eyes looked over her crispy digits a beat before following up her arm, over her shoulder and to the other markings that were not on her last they met.

Aira clicks her tongue on the roof her of her mouth as Lanara begins to share the sad tale of the injured doe which had to have some type of surgery that wasn't healing properly. One might mistake this gesture as sympathy for the creature or even the sanctuary mistress who is tending to her and doing everything she can to save her. However, the huntress is tutting the witch for wasting valuable energy and resources on some game, even if inedible due to disease, whose bones could be used for tools and weaponry and a pelt that could make a useful tarp or game bag. Aira knows better than to actually say these things to Lanara though, so she busies her mouth with her ale once more lest she let those words slip from her tongue. However, the vixen's speech returns to her at the witch's question, Aira spitting out her beer in surprise and spraying the counter (and poor Steadmen) before she snaps her attention to Lanara, her metallic eyes widened in surprised. "He said WHAT now?! He...I...we aren't -married-!"

Artia ”I have the bottle if you just want to help me drink this one as usual, or you wanting your own tonight? We should celebrate.” She never thought she see him be a vampire with how he was over getting bit before and tried to help the halfling out by not getting bit by a certain vampire that wouldn’t lay off or give up on biting him. His question caused a faint blush upon her cheeks, sheathing the blade that was made from dragon horn and scales. Slipping it back into her garter, smoothing both hands over the fabric to try not let the silk wrinkle. “Ran into a dragon, we fought a few times. Each time I worked to heal him. His name is Sin, and I plan to go back to make sure he is fine.” More like she just wanted to go back to see him, but the dragon Jakushka did not want others to know about him so for now she would play off as he was a patient who she got into fights with. Boy was he fine in many ways. Chewing on her bottom lip, uncorking the bottle of whiskey to pour herself a shot.

Lanara appears delighted at Aira’s reaction, as she was pretty sure of how the vixen would respond once such words were uttered. The witch had been pretty taken back by Orikahn’s words the previous evening, and she was fairly sure he was bluffing. Why did everyone seem to shush her, when she was only just getting started? She was everyone’s –favorite- witch, as long as she kept her mouth closed, it seemed. Perhaps she had a penchant for endless babbling? Steadman wipes the spittle from his brow and casts a cold stare at Aira, before he obliges the request of the pirate a few yards away, and delivers a proper corked bottle of wine. Lanara allows the discomfort of her frenemy to grow, as she elbows the woman, and points to Barnabas, “He’s a fine sailor. Saved Puddles’ life about a year back. He’s one of the few good men left in this realm.” A long pull is taken from her bottle, before she gives Aira a lazy shrug, “I don’t know. He said the spirits consecrated your marriage! That you didn’t –ask- him to be your husband, but that it was done, and that you should be grateful.” Deliberately diverting her attention from Aira, the witch waits for Barnabas to glance her way, and she offers him a wave, her chocolate hues widening, “It’s been a few months! How have you been, old friend? Come and join us! This is Aira… Aira, this is Barney.”

Killian 's shoulders rolled in a shrug, "Yea, surprised me too." Sea-green eyes looked back to the table where Larewen sat quietly sipping her wine, "Just felt... right." There were few things Ian was completely certain about in his short life, but this was one of them. She was one of them. Looking back to Artia he would dip his head, hand reaching out to take the bottle she'd opened to pour himself a glass from it. Would he even like it now? The redhead was the one preson he knew the longest in his time in the Damned City, he could see that expression and understand there was more to her tale. "If you are going to lie, you'll need a better pokerface."

Barnabas was just finishing wrestling that cork from its wax seal and purchase inside the bottle neck with a narrow bladed dagger after a seemingly satisfactory inspection that it had not been tampered with, when he looked up to catch Lanara energetically waving at him. He did his best to displace the scowl that pulled at his hawkish features, and managed to lift a corner of his bearded lips into a crooked and sheepish smile. Were the truth to be told, it wasn't Lanara or any specific patron of the tavern that fed that scowl. It wasn't even that he, a very much living and breathing human, had to traverse a city of undead and vampires to sequester a drink. It was that, since before even passing through the door of the Hanging Corpse, that damnable ring had begun almost constantly searing his finger, triggered by lies and half truths told all about. A useful thing if shrewdly applied, but in a crowded room of strangers and drunks it was a useless annoyance. "Lana!" rasped Barnabas in happy reply. He returned his knife to his belt and cap to knotted crown and wove his way towards Lanara and her company, biting the cork from his wine bottle as the final means to rest it free. "Aye, s'been a time!" he agreed. The pirate swept his right hand and now-opened wine bottle behind his back while his left took a pinch and light pull at the foremost point of his hat and his legs crossed and folded in a very courtly sort of curtsy -like a gesture Barnabas had performed countless times. "A pleasure, Aira," he offered Lanara's friend. "If I'd known I'd spot ye 'ere, I'd've brought little Puddin' with me. 'Appy t'lounge about m'ship 'e is, an' I didn't wanter take'm taggin' along fer me...er, business out in this, er, way." His next words came out faster. "'Ow's the Sanctuary?"

Aira's fingers grip at the bartop, her nails leaving little divots in the wood as she listens to Lanara explain what Orikahn had told her the previous evening. Had he gotten into some of that "special tea" reserved for ritual, spiritual travels before conversing with the witch? "The spirits consecrated our marriage and I didn't ask -him- but I should be -grateful?!" she repeats in a huff. "I'll show him grateful," she mumbles under her breath. The vixen was going straight up that mountain once she was done with her ale to have a talk with a certain Kitty who might be on the receiving end of an arrow Did he really think that they were married? Did he -want- to get married? Did she? Her copper eyes blink rapidly as she is pulled from her thoughts as Lana begins talking about a nearby, dark haired man, before introducing the huntress to him and vice versa. "Who the f--" A bark of raucous laughter sounds from a nearby table "is Puddles?!" Aira asks the witch incredulously. Still, the comment on his sailing abilities piques her interest and she gives the pirate a once over. "Barnaby," she says as means of a greeting, dipping her chin in the slightest of nods, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) that she got his name incorrect.

Artia watched as he glanced back to her mother, “Kargrol told me about the axe-cident that lead to it. That you two were arguing, and he accidently axed you? He literally caveman style carried me back to Vailkrin, said he was looking for me since I wasn’t around two day. Took only two days of me not being about this city, and he came looking for me. Originally said that mother sent him to find me to help you out. He fussed up that he came on his own accord. I am glad you found someone and her, she needed someone like you. You both need someone to love and care for.” The two seem to go right back into how each tavern meeting was, sharing a bottle of whiskey. “If you don’t like it, can always spike it with blood. You are staying well fed, right? Especially being out in public with others about.” Giving a chuckle out calling her out, knowing there was more behind what she was saying. “Stop knowing me so well, Ian. Should I call you dad now?” She jests with him, “I have a good pokerfaced, you just know me. He slipped inside my mind, saw everything from the time I was born till now. So, that caused the first argument that lead into a fight even though I let him after few seconds of him probing. He wasn’t going to find anything exciting anyways.” Artia leaned over, whispering into her best pal’s ear.

Orvho steps in, keeping low and to himself, his tattered cloak covering most of him. The pitter-patter of bare feet unheard over the conversation at hand, making his way to Artia and sitting beside the closest open seat to her.

Lanara grins as the eccentric pirate greets Aira with an elegant curtsy, and she extends a hand to gently give his bicep a squeeze. A hug would be too formal in a place such as this, and he was rather busy trying to open up his wine and she didn’t want to risk spilling anything on her overpriced corset. An arm squeeze would suffice as a greeting, and she shifts a little, so the three of them can sit together at the bar. The nosy witch would love to know what sort of business had brought Barnabas all the way to Vailkrin, but he uses the best possible diversion technique he can muster to cloud the issue. Animals! “Aw! I would love to see little Puddin’ again! How is he doing? Does he enjoy sailing? I hope he doesn’t get seasick! If he has any tummy trouble, you just bring him by the sanctuary and I’ll whip him up some treats that will settle his nausea before you set sail!” Lana was fond of the blue panther, as she also was about his owner, “How have you been, Barney? The sanctuary is great! We are having an addition built in the rear, so that we can enchant the new enclosures… Lately, beasts have been manifesting from the shadows, and they are –much- harder to contain and work with, but we’re figuring things out!” Aira’s expletive draws Lana’s attention, and she chuckles, “Puddles is my shark horse! I’m not sure if you ever had the pleasure of meeting him…” Of course Lana would own a pet that was half great-white shark and have stallion, and call meeting him a ‘pleasure’ as if he wasn’t a menacing predator! “And I think Kahn is hoping you’ll pop the question! I asked him if he wanted me to come along and ring shop, but he only laughed and waved his paw! I think he’s secretly hoping I’ll assist you with planning a proposal.” A beat. “I know! What if you get down on your knees at the butcher shop! He gnaws on bones and stuff, and he’s animalistic. It would warm his heart!” Without waiting for a reply from her shocked frenemy, the witch points from Barnabas to Aira, “You both are quite taken with the sea! Aira is the navigator for the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Artia looks over to Orvho, glancing to Ian to make sure a human this proximity wouldn’t bother him too much. “Orvho, this is my best pal Killian. Killian this is Orvho.” Reaching inside the top of her dress to pull out a small coin purse, taking Orvho hand and placing a handful of coin into his palm. “Go shopping tomorrow, you need shoes hon.” Pausing, “And clothes, okay? This should also cover a stay in the rooms upstairs.” She closed his hand over the coins before putting up the coin purse from where she got it from.

Killian offered a smirk, "I am, yes." Well fed. It was all he would offer on the matter for the moment, choosing to keep his affliction to himself. "Besides, I am being escorted." He meant their creator, sitting peacefully and content with her wine, watching from afar. Pointed ears listened to her hushed words, and he'd offer a raised brow and stearn, "He leaves another mark on you, and he won't need to be." A secret.

Barnabas Bones' smile took on a much more genuine -and wider- form as words and enthusiasm spilled from Lanara's lips. It allowed him the opportunity to turn that bottle up a bit without seeming too rude, and by Selene was the man thirsty. A bit of the bright red stuff escaped both the bottle and the pirate's lips, collecting in a rivulet that continued its course down his beard. Aira's mispronounciation if his name was not corrected or even seemingly acknowledged. Barnabas had very little concern for titles, accurate or otherwise, and she could have called him Fishface for all he cared. "Puddin's a natural at sea -'ard at times t'call'm down from the riggin's, though. Been aright m'self, ain't been on solid land fer quite a spell. Floatin' about an' whatnot...Ye ought t'see the ship some time, I reckon." A few more swigs and tugs of the lip as Lanara spoke more to Aira, describing the very remarkable specimen that was Puddles as well as the personal matters of a different, more private sort. But upon hearing her describe Aira as a navigator, Barnabas' brow sprung aloft. "Aye?" He directed towards the freckled half elf in reference. "'venturer's Guild, ye say? As in, a bunch o'looters wot voluntarily share their spoils?" He seemed incredulous, maybe even snide, but interested nonetheless.

Orvho looks at the coin presented to him then back to her. "I have grown fond of sleeping under the stars, but I'll contemplate it." He grins, tilting his head to face Killian and nodding towards him with a quick "Ello."

Artia would offering their creator a wink, and a smile to Larewen. To her, Larewen was mother and the only mother figure she had ever had around. Even though Larewen killed her and sired her, was better then her birth mother who had cursed her to live a doomed life. Thankfully she found her sister Phaedra and together they broke the curse, how she missed her sister. She wished the seer was not deceased but sometimes even vampires meet an un-timely death. “I can promise you he will be, but not in a bad way. I doubt the dragon and I will be having anymore fights. His foot is still healing from our last one, just a grumpy dragon is all.” Snickering, “If she wasn’t escorting you I would.” Ordering another glass for Orvho, pouring him some whiskey once it was brought to them. “To Ian and Larewen!” Taking it and putting the glass back down upon the table top. To Orvho, “Then at least invest in a good fur blanket to sleep upon.” Gently elbowing the mess of a man in the ribs, not knowing if Orvho had been in any rumbles lately.

Aira's eyes widen slightly when Lanara mentions that Puddles is not an ordinary animal but rather a shark and horse hybrid. For a moment, her expression shifts to one of concern and she looks at Lanara in a new light. A shark horse was not a creature that one would normally stumbleupon. And she -was- a witch-. What if Lana wasn't actually rescuing and rehabilitating animals in her sanctuary but was performing experiments on them instead, using her magical abilities to create new and powerful beasts?! Aira gives Lana an appraising look and presses her lips together in a thin line. The huntress might have to pay the sanctuary a visit after all...Aira is taking another sip from her bottle of ale when Lanara returns to the topic of her and Kahn's relationship and takes it upon herself to formulate a plan in that the vixen would propose to the great saber cat. "Butcher shop?!" Aira scoffs in a scandalized tone. "Like I would pay some other person to butcher my meat when I am fully capable of doing the job myself! Bah!" The vixen tilts her head back and downs the remainder of her ale before waving over Steadman once more. "I need something stronger." Turning back to Lanara, Aira shakes her head. "If he wants to get married, he can ask -me-. Or we can discuss it together," she says with a hmph. When Barnabas looks her way when the witch explains that she is the navigator in the Adventurer's Guild, the huntress bobs her head. "Mhm. Grew up on Rynvale and spent most of my time trying to escape my house to get on a boat."

Lanara eagerly nods her head, “I would love to come sailing again, to see the ship, and Puddin, and see what other trouble we can encounter!” She grins, remembering all too well the islanders that had tried to destroy their quest over in Rynvale, though Barnabas had come to her rescue. “I would love to sail to Chartsend one day; I’ve never been that far west. I hear it’s on the other side of the realm… Do you think Cranc Mawr could handle such a far journey?” Lana lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip, glancing over at Artia and Killian, who seem to be in deep discussion. Larewen is giving a wave, and though Orvho is a stranger, he’s granted a curt nod as he sits beside Artia. The men in the corner are so drunk at this point; that two have passed out, though the one still remains staring at Lana. The witch gives him a look that forces him to peer elsewhere, as the brunette would not be accepting a date, an ass grab, or a drink, from the likes of anyone in his company. Aira and Barnabas chat for a few moments about their love for the ocean, and Lana chimes in, when it’s her turn, “Yes! I lead a group of adventurer’s around the realm… We seek treasure, a good time – often filled with danger and a ton of risks, and glory. We also seek to help those in need… My team just returned from Twister Island a few weeks ago. A blood mage had taken over the land, and cast storms to terrify the residents. However, the storms wound up plucking sharks from the sea! An evil mage, sharks, tornadoes, and people in need? We set sail as soon as possible, defeated the villain, and split the reward amongst ourselves.” Another sip of ale is taken, as her big brown eyes lock on Barnabas’ profile, “If you’re interested, you should consider joining. Maybe stop by the museum in Xalious? Meet some of the others?” Of course, had Lana known that Aira was making presumptions about how Puddles came to be the unique hybrid that he was; she would have rectified her line of thinking. The only ‘animal’ that she had ever toyed with, was her biological grandfather, and she had cursed him when she was but a toddler, turning him into a squirrel! “Oh Aira! Don’t be so traditional! You are marrying an animal; of course he expects things to go differently! Just hack up some meat, hang it in the lodge, and be waiting on your knees, covered in gore. Instead of a ring, why not just get him a jeweled collar? I sell some at the sanctuary…”

Orvho stares at the drink with a bit of distances, outstretching his hand from his rags to snatch the glass up, pulling it to his lips and sipping from it until the last drop, nearly giving a spit back to Artia's jab. His eyes shifting to her with a quick outstretch of his tongue at her. "I could do that I suppose." He relies back as he slides back in his chair, shutting his eyes.

Killian's glass rose in salute before he drained his glass. "I appreciate it." He offering to escort him, "I'll be sure to pass the message along." Even if he was sure Larewen wouldn't want the pair alone together, if only for Artia's safety whilst he learned to control his new urges. It was one of those baser needs that had him pushing to a stand then, booted feet steadying under his lean frame as he pushed the glass towards the backbar. "It has been a long evening, and the Lady needs a proper meal." Bloodwine would only starve off that madness for so long, and Ian hadn't helped her situation in sating his own either. "I am sure we will see you at home?" He didn't wait for an answer. The fledgling was turning towards his lover and crossing the bar to her side. Left arm was offered to Larewen as she settled her glass back upon the table for the barmaid to clean away, and once she'd clasped her fingers into the crook of his elbow he'd pull her to a stand and lead her out into the night.

Artia looks over to Orvho, “Are you hungry? I can buy you a meal and some extras.” She cared for the man, just didn’t know what to expect from him after they been apart for some time. Naturally she would try and take care of him, just how she was. Reaching up faking an attempt to grab the tongue he stuck out at her, “I think you should.” Noting he closed his eyes, arching her red brow. Was he always this tired before? She offered Killian a nod, she would further ask question once they were all back at the manor.

Barnabas couldn't conceal a bit of admiration for Aira in that moment. "Navigation's no layman's craft, an' Rynvale's a fine spot t'get out from if'n ye ask me," he commented behind the bottle of wine, which had begun making regular trips up to his lips now. The line of color from wayward wine that accumulated in the corners of his mouth and bearded chin had only grown. Although he drank like a pirate, he did not actually smell like one, at least on this night. The strong mingling fragrances of woodsmoke and forest loam permeated him, as well as something more refined and aromatic -was that sandalwood? "Chartsend's m'favorite port in these seas of late. Honest, proper workim' folk there -on the water, at least. The politics an' polyticians're a sep'rate matter. Cranc Mawr's been floatin' me about much further'n that these days! She's somethin' special, she is. Likes the waters out west there's much as I do." Barnabas followed Lanara's exchange of glances with the hungry stranger in the corner, and chuckled inwardly at the trials a woman must go through -let alone as a warm bag of fresh blood in Vailkrin. It wouldn't have been so funny if he didn't know Lana was up to the challenge, but he did and so it was. He thought for a short time, eyes listlessly roving about, over the offer to peruse the Guild. "Yea, might take a jaunt t'see wotsit about. Not that I be needin' t'go looting er anything," he said, nervously shifting the strap of his travel bag over his shoulder with his unoccupied hand. "But I might 'ave some knowin's an', er, skills t'lend, an' a bit of adventure does wonders fer a restless soul."

Aira looks absolutely horrified at Lanara's suggestion that she butcher an animal and wait for Kahn in the lodge, covered in blood and gore, and ask him to marry her. In fact, she is nearly repulsed by the idea. Thankfully, Steadman arrives just then with a tumbler of whiskey which the huntress immediately grabs and downs in a single gulp. Yet, the comment about getting the sabercat a jeweled collar is so amusing that the vixen begins to laugh, hard enough that tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. "Oh my spirits, you are a -hoot-, Lanara!" It takes a few minutes for Aira to temper her amusement and she wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Look, I appreciate your help..." No, the huntress really doesn't. "But I'm not sure Kitty even believes in marriage, let alone with me." In an attempt to get the witch to stop meddling in her romantic relationship, she pounces on Barnabas's conversation. "Is Cranc Mawr the name of your ship, Balthazar? I dream of one day having my own vessel to navigate instead of having to borrow one."

Orvho speaks up with pep. "I could go for some food." One of his eyes popping open. Feeling like the odd person out at the table, his eye scan across everyone, pushing himself up in his seat again, crossing his arm, and giving an act of interest.

Lanara lowers her empty bottle to the bartop and claps her hands together, excitedly. “Yay! We should head out west sometimes, Barney! Puddles, Puddin, and Cranc Mawr, will love it, too! Perhaps we can bring my sister, Taly, along for the journey? I read something in my late mother’s grimoire about a village west of Chartsend… Apparently they bless wands with the seven chakras, for healing purposes.” Why did Lanara require an object so heavily blessed? Did she have something that her own powers were unable to heal? The witch senses that Aira is growing uneasy with the talk about marriage, so she leaves the topic alone, for now. Neither Kahn, nor his mate, was fooling the brunette. She was an epic event planner, and she was a bit of a matchmaker back in the day. She saw the want in Aira’s eyes, and secretly, Lana was already imagining their hybrid fur babies! Killian and Larewen leave the tavern, Orvho seems to have passed out from all the excitement of going barefoot, and poor Artia is drinking by her lonesome self. Lana slips some coin over to Steadman, and before long, a bottle of their finest wine is delivered to the redhead’s table, courtesy of the witch with the flower behind her ear. “Who is Balthazar?” Blinking, Lana fixes Aira with an incredulous stare, before she returns her attention to the sailor, “Yes! We would love it –Barnabas- if you joined our ranks. We would love someone with your skills, and you’re such fun to travel with, I know from experience!” His name is enunciated carefully, so the vixen wouldn’t mess it up a third time. The hour is growing late, and Lana sighs, knowing she better head out in a few minutes, or Eli would send out a search party to claim his betrothed.

Artia chuckles, waving over the waiter, “Special of the day and a bag of nonperishable or easy to go bad within a few days.” She would order for Orvho, looking over to him as he sat up more. “I’m go for a walk, you know where to find me when done eating if decide want to speak more.” Reaching over, patting his knee with a smile. Standing she moves to Lanara giving her a short hug before she heads out into the night.

Barnabas picked up on Aira's passive plea to detour the conversation with Lanara. He also picked up on the growing creativity with which she misspoke his name; again, the pirate proceeded to not skip a beat and he was, in effect, temporarily Balthazar before Lanara so passive-aggressively set the record straight. "Aye, she's m'ship. Curious thing, though. Reckon there ain't another o'her kind anywhere in any sea." This was not just prideful captain talk, either, but Barnabas declared it off-handedly anyway. "Borrowin' ships can 'ave its own merits, though." In a more general statement that followed, he nodded agreeably with Lanara and waved his bottle-enclosed hand. "More'n 'appy to oblige a trip! Rope in yer sister er's many friends as ye like. Jus', be sure the dead don't make 'em uneasy, er if they do, least make sure they can swim!" A few hearty laughs succeeds Barnabas' small and none too clear joke. "M'crew might disturb 'em, emotionally y'know," he said, realizing that he maybe should try to clarify so the women don't take him for a madman. At least unjustly.

Aira slips her hand into her back pocket and pulls out a coin purse, placing enough down to cover her drinks as well as Lana's and Barnabas's bottle (plus tip, of course). She had a long journey back to Frostmaw, and though she doubted Kahn would worry about her whereabouts or wellbeing, she'd rather leave this city behind her. The huntress listens to the pirate as he explains about his ship and a rare smile curves on her lips. "I'd love to see her some time, if you'd be willing." The vixen's tail gives a twitch, brushing up against Lana's shins before she hops from the stool and adjusts her bow. "Well it's been an...interesting night," Aira says with a small grimace. "But it's a long way back to Frostmaw for me. I'll be seeing you, Lana. Keep out of trouble." Turning her copper gaze to the pirate she bows her head slightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Barnabas," she says with a conspiratorial wink to let him know she knew his name all along. Turning on her booted heel, Aira takes her leave of the tavern, making sure to kick the door once more on her way out.

Orvho waits until the food ordered for him arrives, showing little elegance as he begins eatting, griping the fork tightly, taking brief glaces up as he quickly chews. Once done, he would push the plate away from him, sitting back in his chair again, a look of ponder washes over his face.

Lanara is already thinking of the things she’ll need to pack, and who she wishes to bring along, for their upcoming trip. In her mind, it’s a certainty that it’s going to happen, and she’s already in the planning phase. She can’t help but giggle, as she knew his crew of undead would scare the living daylights out of her little sister, and she’d be sure to ‘forget’ to mention such a thing. Not that witches were immune to spirits or the undead, it would be fine, once the initial shock wore off. “It will be wonderful! And be sure to come and visit at the sanctuary and museum!” Artia stops by for a minute and pulls Lana in for a brief hug, and that lets Lana knows it’s time to go for her, as well. After bickering with Aira for a moment over who is treating, she concedes and lets the vixen pay their tab, wiggling her fingers in a parting wave. “Me? Behave? Never! And you and I are going to meet very soon, Missy! You have a proposal to plan!” Smiling, Lana slips into her jacket, and gives Barnabas a tight hug, “Please give Puddin’ a kiss for me! We’ll meet up soon!” With that, the little witch exits the tavern, and heads home to Cenril.

Barnabas returned both women's curtsy and embrace respectively, the latter being applied with nearly empty bottle in hand. He didn't protest Aira's charitable gesture, for who has known any sailor to decline a gratuitous drink? Lanara and her to-and-fro teasing elicited another spurt of laughter. "Aye, 'til I see ye's agin, be well." He slugged down the last of his wine, and after placing the empty bottle upon the bartop he, too, readied to set back off into the night. On his way to the door, a small coinpurse fell from his hand to Orvho's table in such a subtle way that it might have spontaneously appeared there. Were the stranger to look up or question the pirate before his exit, he would only be returned with one laconic wink before the lanky man disappeared into the darkness outside.