RP:Stealing Trinsa

Background

Nefarious leader of The Eldritch Cabal, Joliette Thorne, finds funds are low after the expense of rebuilding the Hanging Corpse Tavern and comes up with a plan to rectify the situation.

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The Den of Thieves, Hanging Corpse Tavern, Vailkrin

Mahri is still snoozing away on the cot. Cleaner but snoozing.

Jolie hated waking Mahri up. Really, she did. "Pssst. Mah. Mah, psssst." The necromancer stood back a bit, in case the cranky lycaness lashed out. Not that she was scared of Mahri. Or anything. "Pssst!"

Mahri groans and mumbles, "Just a little longer..Mrs. Brown can wait for her tea can't she?"

Jolie blinked. "Mahri!" Mrs. Brown? Tea? She wasn't going to ask. "Wake up!"

Mahri isn't usually so slow to wake up. Normally she's alert and ready to..well..whatever is needed at the time whether defensively or whateverelse. Maybe Steadman had put something in her water the night before. With a frown, she blinks open her eyes and rolls to stare blearily up at her sister, "Tenebrae? What..the hell?"

Jolie was dressed like a shadow in the dark, cloaked, hooded, a slip of silk pulled up over her nose which fluttered with every word. "I need a little help with something." She had a pack over one shoulder, and her eyes were glistening with some wickedness or other. "Make Urgh and Steady help you - that old mansion, in the cul-de-sac? I need a room upstairs prepared for a ... guest."

Mahri flings the light cover off and swings her legs over the edge of the cot. Hair mussed and tangled, Mahri thrusts a hand into the mess and fingercombs out the worst. "The..haunted one Senka had been spending so much.."A wide jaw popping yawn interrupts "..time in?" She isn't questioning why the room is needed and what guest. Tenebrae had a plan, she can tell that much. "Alright, alright. Any special -needs- I should know about?"

Jolie had forgotten about the ghosts. Almost. Oh well, they'd just have to deal with what came, in that regard. It was the closest hiding spot she could think of, having no desire for her sister to exert more effort than necessary. "Stock of food and drink for a few days. A cot, some extra rope. I've planted a magic-damping talisman in the room already." She was pacing, clearly full of nervous energy. "Creature comforts, I don't want our guest to feel hard done by." Mahri wouldn't see the smirk under that black silk she wore over her face, but might hear it in Jolie's tone. "I don't know long we have. Not long, I hope. Oh and - being recognised ought not be an issue but in case? Wear one of these." She tossed Mahri a similar mask, tugged from somewhere inside her cloak, and glanced to the woman's enormous swell of a stomach. "And.. a really big cloak."

Mahri catches both silk mask and extra large cloak with a frown. "Who's the target?" She didn't usually work with disguises..never had to. All her marks were dead.

Jolie said, "The friend of a rich man. Trinsa. That female Steady put up, she's seeing Leodarkheart, too."

Mahri puffs her cheeks, an expression learned from Shishi, and nods. "Right.." Folding the cloak over one arm, the fully dressed woman round with child, manages to somehow --if awkwardly-- get off the cot. "I'll go get Steadman and Urghdak. We'll get the place ready just send..a message when you're ready to bring her in."

Jolie was already headed for that rope ladder that hung out the window. "I also need a cover story. Alibi. No time to think of one. Gotta look squeaky, you know?" These last words were said as she clambered over the sill backwards, her head and shoulder still visible through the window now. "Best I get going."

Mahri curses and flings open the door just as Jolie is gone from sight over the window sill. Now she has to think of an alibi. For her sister. Pounding down the stairs she grabs one of the junior bouncers and informs him, "The Lady Tenebrae is sleeping. No one, absolutely no one is to go up stairs until she comes down. Understood?" The man, while a bouncer for a reason, swallows convulsively and nods. He liked his job. "Good. Steadman, Urghdak. We got some shopping to do." Everyone else can assume it's for the Corpse.

Jolie dropped down to the street, where her grey mare - who'd somehow become a darker, charcoal shade, was tethered outside of Varen's shop. The sound of hooves on black stone vanished in the distance, a short time after.

A Short Time Later, On Kelay Road

Jolie had taken every precaution. This was a risky venture, which could bring a deal of wrath down on the heads of all concerned, so every t was crossed and every i dotted. She’d muffled the horses’ feet – the disguised grey she rode, as well as the black she’d picked up the day before from a trader in Gualon, so that their impatient stamping hooves made only the slightest thuds on soft earth. The woman herself was cloaked, masked, her pockets full of useful things, her saddle looped with rope. The gray was well-trained. The black was not; it snorted loudly, from behind the screen of branches through the necromancer watched this road, as she had watched it for several days now.

Leifong was close by, as he usually was to wherever the sin-eater might find herself. It was a largely thankless job, long hours, low pay, unsafe work conditions, but he kept up his end anyway. As such it should not come as much surprise to the woman when he quietly and suddenly appears at her side, though whether it was a magical appearance, or if he was just that good at what he did, who knows? "So what are you doing out here, anyway?" he asks, probably the first sign of his presence that would be easy to notice.

Jolie said, "Gods! Damn!" The first word, a yelp of surprise, the second, a low hiss, as were the words to follow, "Bloody... trying to get me ..." Green eyes that seemed more pale yet above the silk covering her nose and mouth, glared down at the priest. Jolie was astride the grey, holding the reins of a black gelding, who'd snuff curiously at Leifong's head, wet steaming breath snorted at him. "Waiting," whispered the necromancer, "Is what I'm doing. For a mark." Those eyes narrowed, and she gestured with gloved hands to the black. "You can help me, if you want. Spare horse. It'd make things a whole lot easier, I'm thinking, to have a second rider."

Leifong was more disciplined than to let how much enjoyment he got from continually sneaking up on his charge show on his face, but it made his cold dead heart feel all bubbly inside. It's the little things, like passive aggressive revenge, that really brighten his day. "I've never known you to do something yourself when someone else could do it just as well." the monk replies, his cold fingers brushing the nose of that black beast absently, at which it withdraws slightly. "Must be important. Or are your lackeys just on holiday?" The priest's appearance was as close to volunteering as one would ever get out of him, he had honestly half assumed the other horse was for him anyway. How she kept forgetting that he was always watching was a mystery to him. "But yes, yes, I figured that I might as well join in the fun. Tracking your every movement can get so dull... best to seize any opportunity for enjoyment."

Jolie gave the priest a rather flat look and chose to ignore his waspish jabs. For the moment. “Important, yes. Fifty grand important. Big trouble if we’re found out important…” She tsk’ed and reached into her cloak, its pockets loaded with items that might come in useful on this venture, and in case of trouble. A dark cloth was tossed his way. “Listen carefully. Woman’s a light mage of some sort, don’t even try to use magic against her. Plan is, I’ll get on her quick, disable her, drag her back her. I’d planned to use that horse.. better you get on it, yeah? You’ll save me time strapping her to the saddle, if you can help hold her on ‘til we get to the hideout. She’ll be unconscious. Her … bell things.. she uses to vanish – saw her doing it in Vailkrin once - I got a plan for those. The room at the hideout’s magic-damped, for that reason. Room oughta be ready by now…” From the bushes where they lurked, the Darkness gestured to the road. “Been waiting her periodically, for days. This is the boring bit, I’m afraid. The waiting.”

Jolie added, "Tie that cloth over your face, Mister Happy. Don't want to scare her to death before the ransom is paid."

Trinsa had spent the greater portion of the morning passing tokens and advertisements telling of sales in Larket to those that had walked past her in the Kelay Square. The sun was getting high and she knew it was time to start heading back to help Mary with closing, however just one more stop was in order where she placed the last paper on the Tavern's board. "That should do it." she smiled, proud of the amount of flyers she was able to shove into hands. No more dawdling, instead she left the building to head back up to Larket. It's a long walk but given the turn of events, she was happy to take it. Certainly she can stand to lose a pound or thirty.

Leifong looks at the rag in his hand distastefully. "You cannot seriously expect me to wear this." he responds dryly, scrunching the thing up and tossing it off into the bushes. "Unnecessary. And no magic? None? I think I'm starting to regret showing up. Kidnapping I can do, babysitting a horse and an unconscious girl is... insulting."

Jolie hissed, in the priest's direction as she dismounted the grey and crept closer to the road, "Stop carping. My informant had her in the Kelay tavern earlier.. with a bit of luck she'll be by this way. On the horse. And ssh!"

At a Strange Abode, in Vailkrin

Mahri, with Steadman and Urghdak, makes her way through the vegetation surrounding the Manse. Steadman brings up the rear while Urghdak hacks away at vines and undergrowth which have grown to cover the path. Mahri, waddling between the two males, blows a bit of hair from her eyes and sees the house looming ahead. The corners of her mouth draw down in distaste. She remembered the place vividly and it still gave a chill. "One room, she says. For a guest, she says. Damn woman.." Tromping up the rickety steps to the porch, the trio look around as though expecting something to jump out and say 'boo'. "Lets get this over with." Steadman and Trollson had both been carrying a sack and an unfortunate junior bouncer had be conscripted to lug around a crate with all the necessities a guest might need.

Meanwhile, Back in Kelay...

Trinsa took to humming at herself, off key as one could be but she did not mind. Audience of one and that's all that would ever appreciate her. The elf finally could see the turn where the road fades into the woods to the north. Unwise to the activities of others, she approaches the bushes that line the woodsy trail right before the mayor's house.

Leifong grumbles quietly but makes no further open complaint and hops with a relative ease onto the powerful black horse. It complains only slightly at being mounted, the slightest of whinnies, but it is calmed easily by the gentle strokings of its new rider.

Jolie mentally slaughtered the noisy nag, praying it had not drawn unwanted attention – she saw the figure of Trinsa now, as she peeked through the bushes, and crossed her leather-clad fingers that the road’s traffic would not suddenly become busier. It was nearing luncheon hour, and she knew most of the traders and sundry travellers would be pausing somewhere for a midday meal, leaving her hopefully a clear run at this daring daylight crime. The necromancer had a light cord slung over her shoulder, and her gloved hand reached to the depths of a cloak-pocket for some bunched cloths, a small blue bottle. As the elf approached, humming a tune, she readied herself for the grab – a sudden explosion of bunched muscle brought her bursting out of her hiding-place. The white cloth she held would be stuffed across Trinsa’s face, the toxin it was soaked in designed to knock the woman out for a time, her other hand with the blue bottle, uncorked, tipping a resinous compound over those potentially interfering bells of hers, clogging the clappers, preventing them from accidentally ringing and taking her mark to some other, less fortuitous location. This done, the lycaness’ strength would be put to keeping Trinsa from struggling free until that soporific compound was inhaled enough to render the elf unconscious.

Trinsa was too distracted by the few folk that walked by and by that dastardly tune to really notice a whinny from the hidden horse. That was her only warning because the next thing she knew a figure had flung itself at her from what seemed to be nowhere. Trinsa could not think! Too stunned in the outburst to what had otherwise been a very pleasant day. Startled, she takes a step back, meaning to raise her hands to push off the offender, not quite realizing that she could use her bells to simply slip this person's grasp. That was her second thought, and it cost her dearly as a foul stenched rag was forced on her face. Trinsa's eyes went wide as her bells only reply is the unimpressive flat thunks of metal against metal. The longer the cloth stayed over her nose and mouth the easier Jolie's task of keeping it clamped became. The elf thrashed about a good deal, twisting back and pushing where she could but the other's strength held fresh air from her long enough for Trinsa's legs to buckle as dead weight took over.

“Oof..” Trinsa got a good elbow-jab into the necromancer’s sternum, which made it hard to breathe and force the elf into submission at the same time. She’d suffer a bruised shin or two and a good foot-stamping before Trinsa finally went down. Who’d have figured a soft healer to have such fire in her? Wincing a little at the subsequent ache in her own foot, the Darkness jammed a hood over the fallen woman’s head and tugged it down tightly. Trinsa was hooked under her arms, then, and dragged off the road, into those bushes where Leifong and the horse were waiting. It took more time and effort that Joliette had anticipated, Trinsa not being a slip of a lass, exactly. And she’d huff and puff, red-faced with exertion, before the elf was dumped in the grass by the hooves of the black. She eyed Leifong, as if daring him to complain, “Gonna need some help getting her up there…”

Leifong doesn't complain, he just cocks a grin. Watching Jolie dragging her 'mark' so ruggedly and unceremoniously was pretty entertaining, and it isn't until she asks for it that he shows even the slightest hint of helpfulness in the cause of getting the woman up onto his horse. "And if I hadn't been here?" he chides as he goes to effortlessly sling the woman up on his shoulder and then hop up onto his horse like it were nothing. Only it uh... it doesn't exactly go that way. More like a labored heave onto his back which threatens to give, and then a difficult process of levering and pushing and begging to get her up onto the black steed's back. "Is she made of bricks?" the priest huffs after he finally manages to get the woman up on his horse. "Or am I just getting weaker in my old age?" He eyes Jolie dangerously then, as though suddenly realizing it would probably be best if she -didn't- give her opinion on that one. She, after all, was a woman and he, was supposed to be a big strong man. Well... he liked books, and magic, and poison, and plum wine. Damn, give a man a break.

Trinsa was out in an ether induce slumber. At least it was dark, what with that bag over her head. If she woke up any time soon, she may mistake it for being night, initially. Leifong’s struggle would leave some bruises as he was none too gentle with her particular bag of bones which leaves one to wonder what sort of man cannot handle an average, human weighted elf. Should she have been a human, her proportions would have been embarrassing for the priest to heft, what with his books, and magic, and poison, and wines.

Jolie only answered Leifong’s first question, reserving any cracks about the priest’s oh-so-manly ways for a more opportune moment. “I’d have coped,” was all she said, tugging roped free from her own horse’s saddle, the grey mare – a deep charcoal, now, rubbed with ash to disguise her distinctive dappled hide – standing stoic and silent, as she’d been trained to do. Trinsa – a heavy dead weight for unfit un-holy man and a five-foot-nothing weary lycaness alike, apparently, was lashed to the black gelding’s back, and only then did the necromancer empty her pockets, sundry items removed from the cloak and stashed in her pack. The cloak was swept off, and draped over the unconscious, hooded elf, its end tied and tucked to make the black’s burden seem a simple load of goods, on a pack horse. “You’ll have to ride with me,” she added, eyeing the little room left on the priest’s mount. She grasped the black’s reins and vaulted onto her own horse, jerking the now-laden gelding’s head so the animal lurched forward, snorted angrily, its ears laid back. From the spine of the grey, the Darkness offered her erstwhile shadow a gloved hand up.

Leifong takes Jolie's hand firmly and manages his way up on to her horse without any difficulty whatsoever. Moving his own body through space was easy, and he was rather good at it. Moving another was also relatively easy if you killed them and reanimated their corpse, or bewitched them, or threatened them, etc. But moving another body with his own body was... lets just say 'outside the realms of his expertise'. "This doesn't look suspicious at -all-." he comments as the pair presumably get on their way, moving their new prisoner to where she would be kept. "You see dark clothed couples riding around with body shaped bundles tied to their extra horse in broad daylight all the time... right? When this is over with, I think you and I need to have a talk about your capacity for rational planning."

Jolie’s elbow would find its way into the priest’s ribcage – on accident, like – as she glanced back to the black horse bearing Trinsa’s cloak-wrapped and hooded form. “Sorry,” she murmured, her grin hidden under the dark silk still covering her lower face. “We’ll have to be fast. For exactly that reason.” Peridot eyes peered for a clear space on the road, the necromancer waiting for an opportune moment to burst from the bushes and hurtle toward the Dark Lands, and the waiting hideout. The grey mare she rode, Leifong riding pillion, shifted her hooves restlessly in the leaves and dirt in anticipation of another good gallop.

Leoxander was a subtle, downwind scent but those horses might still be stirring more restlessly than usual, beyond the fidget a gallop could bring. Whites of eyes showed at times and equine ears were very likely held vertical, swiveling, checking, worrying over the feeling of a predator in the area. A look back over one's shoulder and down the road would reveal no sign of the cause; mismatched eyes tinged with a rusty reflection of irises were locked upon the two, mounted upon their steed, from that nearby edge of forest.

Leifong doesn't retaliate to the elbow which lands in his ribs, doesn't even complain, for his attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. The man was rarely oblivious, and quite good at what he did, but he had not the nose of a wolf or a horse. He didn't know what it was, or where it was, but the prickling at the base of his skull and the reactions of the horses, especially the black which carried the pair's prize, was more than enough for the priest to decide with certainty that there was indeed something watching them from the shadows. How had he let himself be drug out into the light and carted around on the back of Jolie's horse? He wouldn't have even joined in on this mission had he known his role would be as glorified babysitter, although, with a bit of though, Leifong realizes that's what he already is, just a glorified babysitter. "There's eyes on us." he whispers quietly, his tone suddenly serious as he looks all around, trying to discern the location of them, ready to leap from his mount and chase their observer down if necessary. At least that would be interesting, or maybe even challenging. All he'd even done so far was to heave the woman onto her own horse, and to think he'd thought this might be fun.

“No shinola…” Jolie reined the mare in, collecting the nervous energy in the creature’s hind quarters, so ready to spring into half-panicked flight, with a firm press of calves to equine ribs. Behind them, the black was prancing, the elf’s weight and the reins held in Jolie’s fist the only impediments to its bolting. Jolie risked a great deal to tug that cloth down from over her nose, lifting her chin, her nostrils flaring as she drank the air. The scent that drifted on the warm breeze from the treeline was faint. Familiar. “Holy…” Now that, she had not expected. There was a pause, a brief hesitation while her mind reeled with what to do, with no idea of what state the captain was in, or how likely he was or not to see their horses as a handy meal… After their last encounter, she was even less sure. What to do.. what to do.. “Take her to the hideout,” she said, realising time was not on their side, and the horses would not bear the sense of predatory looming much longer. “South of the walkway, all the way. East to the brokedown old mansion at the end of the street.” Her leg swung over the mare’s neck, reins relinquished to the priest. “I’ll meet you there. If she wakes…” a nod to the ‘sleeping’ elf. “Knock her out again.” Boots thudded to the soft earth. Her neck cricked, canted violently to one side, her bones already beginning to meld into a different shape, one perhaps better suited for facing a potentially angry wolf. Trusting Leifong’s patience with her to hold out just a little longer, Jolie dumped her boots, one at a time, chucking them to the bushes. “I won’t be long behind.” She hoped.

Leifong does as he's told without question, the seriousness in Jolie's tone perfectly clear, and it was in times where action was demanded the priest performed at his best. He's instantly situating himself on the mare as it's owner hops off, taking a firm grasp on the reins of the other, and with a sturdy thump to the beast's ribs he urges it into a hard gallop, quickly leaving Jolie and the other behind.

Leoxander simply took the opportunity to stalk into view at that point, true wolf form run ragged, his fur coarse and bristled in spikes still damp from ocean water. Head low, shoulders high, tail grimly still, that leathern black nose flared at the scent of the she wolf, and after a few sluggish steps in their general direction he paused, frozen, focus locked and entirely visible in his tawny coat. Far larger than the size a wolf ever should be, 'bobcat' tipped ears were flattened back but not yet pinned in aggression, and those hungry, shadowed eyes did in fact study the hearty hind leg of the gray mare when its reins were passed backward. Their captive did not go without notice, but in the end that off colored stare returned back to the sin-eater, hackles bristled ever so slightly. There was something... off about the beast. His eyes blinked too much for a hunting wolf.

Jolie was half-wolfed, her preferential form, but one she’d be stuck in while the pipesmoke she’d not imbibed since the night before still had marginal effect in her system. For once, her transition wasn’t smooth, and the popping of gristle complaints from her spine and limbs as legs buckled digigrade and shoulders hunched, sounded like a series of tree-limbs snapping, her neck wrenching madly, canine snout distorting the lines of her small face. It was a moment of weakness, and were Leoxander to pick that moment to launch an attack, she’d be the worse for it. That the other wolf .. wasn’t right.. was nothing sh’ed notice right away, but Leo would see her frame stiffen, the lay of her ears flattening once she got a good look at him, her instincts screaming commands to run at limbs that were not yet able to move correctly.

Leoxander caught the scent of fear mixed in with other emotions and places on her skin and fur - or hair, as it were. He was not so cowardly a wolf to take advantage of a weak moment he knew all too well. But he was Alpha, he was riled and agitated for the fact his fix had worn off, and while her instinct screamed 'flee', his roared 'fight'. A growl started in his throat low, hoarse in the way a man's voice would be after being up all night. Still, it was solid enough to state his challenge, and with his fur bristling thicker on his lean frame, particularly about his throat and chest, the rogue started to close in on Jolie more slowly than he would have at any other time. He hadn't found the energy to indulge in any other sins or hunt, and yet he seemed full prepared to face off against her if she did not back down or submit.

Jolie .. did not have time for a fight. No time to nurse inevitable injury. Was in no state to offer the challenge that rose like a howl in her mind, while lantern-green and black-spangled eyes fixed on the encroaching Alpha. She had, thanks to that pipe she’d taken to indulging in with the man named Black, enough humanoid sense about her realise all of this, enough of it left to resist the urges her warped biology pressured her to release. Twisted vocal cords would growl truncated words, even she as backed up, gave ground to the larger beast. “We’re on a job…” Would he understand? Just get more angry? She had to take that risk. “Could use you. If you want in.” All the while, clawed feet were tracking back, until her spine bumped the rough trunk of a tree. Brilliant. At least her back was covered, she supposed, wryly.

Vailkrin, and the Strange Abode

Leifong rides the horses ragged in getting to the safe house, and by the time of arrival both are panting hard and nearing exhaustion. It was a tough ride for them, but he was proud of their speed and happy with the time they'd made. In haste the necromancer hops free from the mare as they approach the front step and tethers the horses to a nearby tree, leaving the woman tied on the back of beast which had carried her as he damn near flies up to the front door, keeping his eyes from being sucked in by the impossible escher-like angles in the same way he'd grown accustomed to viewing the fortress. He pounds hard on the door, and without much delay it is answered by the hulking form of Urghdak the vicious, who is instantly conscripted into service as Leifong guides him down to the horses and roughly explains the situation on the way. "I've got to make it back, and in a hurry." he finishes up with as the pair reach the tethered horses and Urghdak makes to unfasten the woman who was the prize of this venture. "Make sure to water the beasts, they've done well. Jolie says that if she comes to, knock her back out. Gently! Gently!" Leifong asserts, catching the little twinkle which had popped up in the half-troll's eye. "Don't go bashing her skull in after all this work. I'll be back with Miss Thorne as soon as I can." and then Leifong is making his way off again. "You're walking?" Urghdak questions as he actually manages the feat of slinging Trinsa effortlessly over his shoulder. But the priest doesn't respond, instead he seems to evaporate into the shadows, as though he were never even there.

Back in Kelay

Leoxander was urged forward by every step back she took, until his large snout was right in front of hers and his whiskers pulled back to show off his white teeth at her. The growl had quieted while she conjured her own guttural sounds, and they caused those tipped ears to flick a bit from their angry set, once. Further, into her space, right in her bubble and the Alpha was so bold as to seemingly risk his throat to her while he touched his nose into the fur on her shoulder, testing different scents, also testing her. She was backed up but that didn't mean she wouldn't defy his position and defend herself, or try to take him out quick with a lock to his jugular. Hackles didn't quite settle but they were no longer porcupine quills threatening to stick, making him look bigger. They just helped define the jackal-wolf's mane a bit. There came no answer and never had in such a form, but he did take his attention off her briefly to look down the way the undead priest and their prisoner had gone.

He wasn’t .. right. He smelled differently, something in his eyes… Jolie wasn’t sure, wasn’t prepared to think it through, not while there was a chance the rogue wolf might decide to snap the life out of her. At least by now, her body had settled enough to make her more sure that she’d not simply fall over, in trying to defend herself if need be. Cautious, she too turned her head toward the eastern road, though she couldn’t see it from here. “So.” He’d note the shaky bravado in her tone. “In.. or out?” She was backed against a tree, offering no return snarl, though her hair did prickle when his snout came close. He’d scent the myriad odors of a pub-owner’s life, the many people she’d come in contact with. Mahri. Black. The bouncer, random patrons she’d brushed against. Trinsa, Leifong. Whatever had passed between them – or not, as the case was, in weeks past – she had to hope his criminal mind, and the life they’d shared before still carried a little meaning for him, a little impetus for the renegade to want to indulge his natural greed. “Fifty grand. You’ll get a cut.” That’s if things weren’t going to hell, even now, on Leifong’s end of the crime.

Leoxander took a long time to answer in a not-quite-focused way, and when he did, the wolf enunciated a word on a growl and an exhale that she would not likely understand. "Brizo..." It wasn't a yes, but then, it wasn't a no, and the rogue was usually pretty clear about when he was just not interested in something. His hesitation said otherwise, and he finally offered the abyssal black her space when he turned, to slow and tiredly pace down that road on a mission.

Jolie blinked, the livid flare of her eyes extinguished for that split second. The hell did he just say? And as Leo left, then, a tawny shape melting off into the scenery, she exhaled fully for the first time, a ragged sigh. Why in the nine hells was nothing ever easy? Supposing him to have abandoned the job for now, she'd wait to be sure he was gone, her back still pressed to that tree.

At the Strange Abode

Trinsa passed the time on a floor, a wooden floor that she had been tossed to without much caution. Aside from damaging the elf in some permanent way, what did he care where she slept? Urghdak passed the time doing various tasks around the skew riddled mansion where every now and then he would bother to glimpse at the lump still partially wrapped in the dark cover she traveled in. The troll then kicks her, really just a prod to see if she is faking, but satisfied he wanders off. The fourth time this happened, Trinsa stirred. "You are awake, now." Thunk~ "Heh, not anymore." Back down she went again and another gap of time lost, but the next time she woke, he was not present as far as she could hear. Slowly she moved so that her arm could dislodge from under her stomach. Trinsa had no idea how long it had been or what had happened immediately but this place was not right. She tried her bells, just a little shimmy to see if they were clear of debris. Then she waited for something or some one to come. The thick, heavy boot steps could be heard in the next room. Hurry! A firm shake announcing the sound of a simple sleigh's charm turned frantic. "Night, night." boomed Urghdak as she tried with all her might to get those chimes working. They had never failed her before, why did they now! This was her last thought before darkness stole any thoughts she had away.

Overlooking Gorge

Leifong was not a full master of many skills, and even the one he employed now had further echelons to be reached , but moving in the shadows, as a shadow, was second nature to him. So it was that he could cover ground faster, and move further without tiring, than even the fastest of horses, so long as there was even the slightest hint of a shadow for him to slip through. Vailkrin provided many of these, as did the forest and even the sparse shrubbery which lined the road on all sides. Even in the full light of day, shadows are never hard to find. And thus it ended up that not long at all after he'd reigned in the horses and transferred care of their prisoner to Urghdak, Leifong was tearing his way back to where he'd left the sin-eater to fend for herself.

It was over the blustery path which stretched alongside the bottomless drop of the Gorge, as legend had it, that Leifong would find her, free of her mask – it wasn’t needed now – and cloakless, bootless. The priest would not have witnessed this before, the lycaness’ wolven form, misshapen and half-humanoid. Her limbs were lightly furred in hair as dark as the shadows he moved in, her face bearing a snoutlike appearance, her ears lengthened and lynx-tipped, as had been Leoxander’s own. She was loping on all fours, handlike paws scraping the rocky earth as she made good time toward the Dark Lands.

Leifong coalesces into being out of the shadows on the path just in front of the now half lupine Joliette, for even if he'd never observed her in this state, it was hard to mistake the creature she was for anyone else. "You are unharmed?" he asks in a tone which sounds almost like concern, though it would be hard to tell given as he'd never really shown any before. "And our stalker?" he continues, moving quickly toward her and heading her off on the path, not letting her move past him (unless she simply bowled him over) until fully satisfied that she was alright and properly sane.

Jolie let out a snarl at the priest’s sudden appearance, instinct being what it is and designed for instant rather than considered reactions. Bristling still, the bared teeth were nevertheless hidden when she recognised the barrier to her journey. “Not dead yet,” she growled, though to which question she was replying wasn’t clear. That blunt snout tipped his way, suspicious slits of eyes narrowed at him, she stalked forward, and if he didn’t get moving in her intended direction, she’d try to nudge him that way. “No problems?” Speech in this form was hard, and sounded so, a rough burr for every word forced out of her half-changed throat. She didn’t wait for a reply before ‘encouraging’ Leifong toward Vailkrin once more.

Leifong seems to find the fact that she can talk to be enough evidence that the woman within the beast was still relatively in control. From his experiences with the turned creatures, one locked in the depths of bloodlust would be largely incapable of it. "No problems." he replies, allowing himself to be 'encouraged' without much difficulty. "Should I hunt them down?" the priest continues in all seriousness, still unaware of who exactly it was that had made Jolie react the way she had. "Might be best to remove loose ends, assuming that you haven't... taken care of it already." which was possible, although considering the relative lack of blood on the woman, he found it unlikely.

Jolie paused, as if thinking about it. “No need,” she said, eventually. “He’s.. one of us.” Whatever that meant, anymore. The wolfess canted her body half-upright, her nose tasting the air. “Best we go.” And she’d slip around Leifong, her darkness moving around his fluidly, leaving the priest to follow or stand there being pummelled by the wind.

Strange Abode

Whether the woman they once more called Tenebrae’s demi-wolven frame or Leifong’s shadow-walking would prove the fastest means to get there, they both arrived. The sineater was stalking even now through the eternal twilight of Vailkrin and through that overgrown and half-dead maze, the way familiar enough to her that she’d only make a couple of wrong turns before the path opened to the yard of the eerie-angled and dilapidated house. She hadn’t noticed on her last visit here, but her newly-sharp sense picked up an odor of mold and decay and.. something else, that she could not identify … not to her liking at all. From an upper window, a pair of yellow eyes glared through a ragged curtain. “You go in first..” Jolie sat on her haunches, clearly indicating she wouldn’t be joining the priest until she was ready.

Leifong was already in the yard by the time the woman arrived. He'd kept pace with her most of the way, not wanting to get too far from her after this whole debacle, but arriving first was something he enjoyed. "And you're going to... what? Stand out here?" he asks curiously, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the front door, apparently either ignoring or not having see the eyes staring at them from the window above. "Come on, there is business to attend." he continues, motioning for her to follow as he makes his way closer to the entrance.

Jolie's lip lifted, a show of teeth. "In a moment." And she stubbornly remained, sitting in the yard like a weird-looking mutant hound squished into too-tight leather clothing. Gods dammit.. another pair of boots gone... "'Less you wanna watch me hurt a while."

Leifong was actually curious to watch more closely. The transformation and it's resulting effects were of interest to him, and he'd relish a chance to study further. But he figured that it would be rude to do so, and besides, he was more intrigued to see if Urghdak had listened, or if he was going to walk in and find their prisoner with her brains bashed out all over the floor. At least he'd given the two horses, which were still tethered to a nearby tree, water. "Fine, suit yourself." the priest replies, and then makes his way up to the front door, pounding on it roughly until the half-troll opened it from the inside.

Jolie offered the sudden banging another soft snarl – her ears rang, as it was, with the fleshy alchemy of the change upon her – sending the horses into a restless rear-end swinging fright. They’d get no reprieve from their prey-animal’s fear either, when the lycaness buckled like a half-dead wasp, her body melding back into its original shape, her will almost sapped by the effort to force this state upon herself. She hated it. Hated it – for reasons she did not and would not think about now – like the poison it was in her blood, this disease. A ragged howl escaped her when her neck finally crunched at the pit of her skull popping itself back into a more human socket. She was barefoot, covered in nasty grime and her clothing was ripped here and there at the seams by the time she shoved past the waiting Trollson, who spoke not at all to her, knowing better, and bare feet would slap on the worm-ridden timbers of the stairs that led upward, into the heart of the strange abode.

Mahri comes around the corner of the dilapidated house on her regular circuit of the place since their guest had arrived. At least Urghdak was in there taking care of things. Hopefully he wouldn't do too much damage to the elf's head. A few of those head-shots had sounded rather..painful. Glancing up when a shift in the wind brought to the wolf Tenebrae and Leifong's respective scents, she picks up her pace, not too much as Mahri isn't quite as quick as she used to be, and hurries into the creaky old place after her sister and the priest. She's missed them though it won't be hard to know where they were going. There's only one habitable room in the whole damn place. Mahri'd made sure of that. Shuffling into said room, she glances down at the prone elf, still soundly out after the last crack to the skull Urghdak had given her. "Only woke up twice," she'll say, leaning in the dubious safety of the doorway. Some of the wood might look newer so that it wouldn't completely collapse anytime soon.

Leoxander sort of stuck out like a sore thumb in this abysmal city, his coat a brighter gold here in comparison to the usual dull blond achieved when painted onto the canvas of other locations in that world. There was hardly any light for his reflective eyes to catch, and still, they captured what they could to shine like two balanced coins in the dark, among the hedges. It was perhaps uncommon luck, or a keen wolf nose, or perhaps the fact that he walked along side a psychic that the maze would be no challenge, and not long after catching two new scents, Mahri might pick up the distinct, identifying smell of Leo, in fur. The beast only paused a moment to shift a look toward the teenager's slow pace, but rather than growl irritably for her behavior, he'd simply wait for her to get near in passing and snap his teeth at the air at the back of her thigh in a click that encouraged her to finish that last leg of the journey. For now.

Caedan shuffled along side of Leo, pacing through the maze and trusting his nose more than her own curious sight. It required a lot of focus to try and find someone who had the route in their mind in her current state and she was loathe to expend too much effort as she trudged along. When Leo snapped at the back of her legs, she glanced sidelong at him and snapped right back, pausing to grumble something unintelligible under her breath as the curious building came into sight. Why had he brought her here? Ugh, dogs. Maybe he'd buried a bone and forgotten just where he'd stowed it. "I'll find you another one," she mumbled at him, lifting a bare arm to shove some disheveled hair out of her eyes.

Jolie frowned. The toxin she'd given the elf should not have worn off so damn quick. She'd give the thought an internal shrug, chalking it up to weird healer powers, while brushing grime off herself to add to whatever dust the room possessed inherently. Without her boots, her humanoid frame was smaller, and she had to cant her head up a little more to look Mahri in the eye, once she'd studied the captive elf, still hooded and bound, and lumped on the cold boards. "I'm guessing Trollson was babysitter." Her throat still bore the burr of hoarseness it'd earned in her change. Leifong was present, somewhere… lurking, as usual, in some dark spot, probably inwardly cussing her out and outwardly hoping for a chance to practise the grisly art he'd been learning from Joliette. "C'mon, give me a hand…" she called to him, wherever he was, to help her haul the prisoner upright, into some sort of more comfortable position. Maybe on that cot she'd asked to be set up here. "Not you," she said to Mahri, eyeing the woman's rotund belly.

Mahri had caught Leo's scent. And Caedan's as well. She figured both would arrive soon enough. Here, in this room, she's staring dispassionately at Trinsa and getting rather tired of being treated like she might break at any moment. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid. She can't weigh much." Still, she won't make a move to help, letting Leifong do so.

Leifong does as instructed with only a slight gripe under his breath about how easily their troll friend had toted the woman about. But otherwise he is silent, and presumably goes back to stalking when finished.

Leoxander snort a breath in answer to Caedan, stalking up that hill behind her toward the very strange hideout they'd chosen for this round. It was the teenager who would do all those necessary tasks of opening doors or marking entrances. He was a broad shouldered silhouette of lupine filling the lower half of the doorway beyond.

Jolie said, "Weighs a ton. For an elf." Leifong likely shot her one of his dark looks, because she'd smirked at him. Trinsa was arranged on the cot, her bonds loosened to allow temporary reprieve for hampered circulation, though the hood was left in place and the elf's lumps and bumps examined through it via the necromancer's probing fingertips. "She'll live," was the proclamation there, and Jolie retied her. She'd forgotten to snag her pack from the saddle of her horse in the yard below, and sent Leifong to get it, who went off grumbling, "fetch this, carry that", vanishing in that creepy way he had of doing. "We need to keep her drugged. If not completely out, 'til the ransom comes through and we do the drop off," this was spoken to Mahri, quietly. "If she fingers us as the 'nappers, we're toast. Or as good."

Caedan perked up at the faint sense of a presence she'd been seeking for some time. She braced a hand on Leoxander's back to step over him to get the door his nose was stuck in, and tried to clamor in first to head toward Jolie's voice. She used the wall to guide her steps, stumbling every so often when it ended abruptly or took a sharp turn. To Leoxander, she said lowly, "You could have just asked for another bone. Really."

Mahri half turns in the doorway, forgetting a moment it would be hard to get past her that way. Poor Leifong. Grumbling under her breath, Mahri simply steps aside to let him pass. A sight turn of her head and anything she'd have said to Jolie in regards to keeping the chit asleep is forgotten. Footsteps. And the scents belonging to Leo and Caedan. "Ah. We've got company." She wont' say guests. That's reserved for Trinsa. "And I'll make sure she stays asleep."

Jolie glanced aside to the woman she called sister. "Can't stay out the whole time. Might kill her." And no lolly for dead bodies, she mused. Mahri's observation was returned with a grunt, the necromancer well aware of who was where and on thier way. "Need his help," was all she said by way of words.

Trinsa stirred some on the cot. First it was her left slipper that twitched, a response to voices in the room disturbing her slumber. As one does when first waking up, various pains start to take inventory. Her body registered some aches in her thighs, a soreness to her back and a twinge on her stomach. Not all of this was felt right away, some of it was as she moved a bit more. What registered the strongest was her head, what with all that thumping Urghdak was so jolly to do. Trinsa finally decided to open her eyes while recalling the set of events that transpired hours ago. It was black, obliterating everything she could view so she paid attention to the voices and ceased her movements. Maybe they would think she is still asleep. Only one detail she forgot, her breathing no longer included the thickness of slumber.

Jolie's shadow - or so she'd come to think of the priest - appeared, apparently from nowhere as he often did, and dropped her bag to the floor. "Thanks," she said, as he returned to his skulking without reply.

Leoxander did not step inside. Partially for the fact there was the female wolf carrying cub within. The wolf turned from that open door and the crowded scents within and shook off his dusty coat to let his pores drink in that night cold. Tired eyes followed the undead's movements a short while with some suspicion hinted in, but it would gradually fall away and the pinned state of his tufted ears relaxed to a more neutral set. He'd wait, on his feet, or paws as it were, until he was needed. It wouldn't be difficult to look at that wolf's stance and imagine the rogue there with his arms folded, a skull and crossbones staring back.

Mahri juts her chin towards Trinsa, noticing the difference in breathing. Yes, her ears are that good. And, she won't say a word. Voices were just as easy to identify as faces.

Caedan stopped in the doorway of the room largely occupied by Cabal +1. She leaned heavily against the frame and pushed some more unkempt hair from her eyes to better scope out the situation she was observing for the first time. The wall closest to her seemed to wobble, prompting her to sidestep and lean against the opposite side of the doorframe to take refuge from what she believed to be a shifting house. After silently observing the goings-on, she crossed one arm across her body to wrap her hand around her opposite arm's elbow and greeted the familiar faces with a flat, "Hello."

Jolie didn't have much choice about having to speak; somebody needed to keep things organised. She slipped a vial from that pack, tossing it to Mahri. Her own voice was uncommonly hoarse, a timbre wrought by her change to wolven shape and back, something she'd grown rusty in of late. "Topical. this. Rub it onto her throat, it'll absorb into her system. Even if she wakes, she'll be delirious." Meanwhile, the necromancer grubbed around for more of that bell-stopping resin.

Jolie glanced aside to Caedan, never all that surprised to see the teen pop up where she wasn't expected. Like she collected 'em. "Hey."

Mahri catches the vial. Her reflexes hadn't been affected at least and grumbles under her breath while opening it. Sitting on the edge of the cot, she'll pull up a bit on the hood covering Trinsa's face and pours a bit of the vial's contents onto the thin skin of her throat. Here, however, is a problem. She'd not worn gloves. Hadn't needed to in a while now and if that stuff was skin soluble, no way was Mahri going to touch it. The dribble would have to do. Getting up then, Mahri glances from the teenager to Jolie and then to the door almost expecting to see the tawny wolf on Caedan's heels. Frowning, she sets the vial, closed now, on a table brought in from somewhere and heads for the exit. "Need some air," is all she says.

Caedan briefly narrowed her eyes at Jolie, attempting to read her mood by only her expression as she had nothing else to go on. This extra expenditure of energy grated on her nerves, and it soon saw her taking a step backward the way she'd come. "Okay." She shifted uneasily and turned to leave the room, the building, and join Leoxander outside. She took up a sentry on the opposite side of the door and assumed the repose he'd have taken were he a less hairy version of himself. Mahri earned a sharp stare as she exited the building, that Caed would attempt to temper with a tentative smile.

Leoxander did simple things. He lowered his nose and tasted the ground, then raised it to sample the air. He paced round and back again, ripples appearing across that tawny coat now and then as though stung by random flea bites. A chuff of breath heard perhaps, fogged breath raising around his ears while they swiveled for sound, Alpha ever on watch over his pack.

Jolie would only narrow her eyes a little at the general exodus. Whatever the hell people thought of her... as if she'd ever given a rat's backside. With such cranky, typically paranoid thoughts predominant, she'd draw a blanket over the captive and if anyone'd thought to bring a chair along, she flung herself into it, pondering the next phase of the plan.

Trinsa intently listened, trying to figure out if she could describe the voice she heard the most or if she recognized it. With it so different then Jolie's normal, she could not. There is another too, that of Caedan, whom the elf had never met. Trinsa heard the command about the topical and gulped, to which the hood twitched just slightly due to the size of that gulp. Then she waited, listening for footsteps, the brush of clothing, anything that could give away just how close the one's position is that was meant to rub something on someone. If it was her that they were speaking about, what was there to do. Her head already hurt but maybe.... The elf had a plan in mind. her feet were bound, hands too, but laying on one's back still lent to simple defences. At the pressure of Mahri sitting on her cot and fingers lifting the shroud, the elf shot up to headbutt the administrator but she was too late and already found herself splashed. Apparently she missed too well, for Mahri's task was done and she moved on unfazed when the minor seamstress asked, "Who's there, what did you just put on me?"

Leoxander turned his skull, to look toward the door when Mahri and Caedan stepped out from the building.

Leoxander instinctively took those first few steps to Caedan, first, his nose merely touching her sweater to verify her continued heartbeat.

Mahri glanced briefly at Caedan in passing, noting the attempt at a smile from the girl. Her own might twitch a bit and Mahri'll nod as she leaves the porch and keeps walking. Into the jungle of a garden. Too many people, not enough space. How was a woman supposed to breath?

Jolie jolted out of her chair, crossed the room in a couple of swift strides. Bloody healers.. and their quick recoveries. She said not a word, but forced the girl's head back down, avoiding that dribble of potion on Trinsa's throat. A knee was planted on the elf's chest in case she had any further idea of rebellion. Thus, the necromancer waited for that psychotropic stuff to take effect.

Leoxander turned his head as the female passed, frame tense and some of the hair along his spine prickled a bit by her lack of eye contact, lack of acknowledgement, a simple stalk passed. It could be a very dangerous thing, then, that Leo moved to trail after the cub swollen lycanthrope, head low and ears back in that often seen predator's approach. Although his paw steps were quiet, Mahri would likely know he was there, steps behind.

Mahri disappears into the underbrush, well aware of the wolf trailing behind and still refusing to look back at him. Using a forearm to push a springy low hanging branch out of her way she'll hold it as long as possible before releasing it with a ~snap~ to swing whip-like behind her.

Leoxander gave his first warning growl that was a clear cut demand for respect. Knowing the rogue wolf who'd bullied his way to his position, it was likely the only one he'd give. His reflexes were a little less sharp than usual but he still lowered down under the rebound of that branch and quickened his step to close the distance between them, the volume of that sound raising the closer he got.

Trinsa couldn't see much because Mahri had only put the hood up a little but there was a sliver of light shining through and she could see her body some what. She was still dressed, that was a good sign and a great relief to her, "Ugh" forced back by the pressure of the knee. "Don't do that... It's not nice. It's complicated to see a grey wolf on the spring of a flower petal." Wut? "Answer me, tell me why the light bulb is hanging over your head. Do you have an idea? Did one of those bug things hang it there?" Continually, and nonsensically she looked around through that small sliver where her eyes directed to a blob, or is it a shape. She could see right through it from under Joli's knee she squirmed to get away from it. "You are not going to eat me today! I haven't any sauce." she yelled at the image.

Jolie said to Leifong, "Get a gag."

Jolie waited for the elf to simmer down before tipping the resin on the bells she wore. An ounce of prevention, and so on. She also tugged that hood into place. "And a cord." Her voice, still husky out of abused vocal cords. "No, you can't strangle her." She added, maliciously, "Yet."

Trinsa heard her bells turn that flat tone that did her no good but it did not register as that, in fact, it drew her attention more like a child playing with a jack-in-the box. The sound of it crisped as she paused her sad wrestling with her captor. "Does this strike a cord with you?" She then jangled the wrist fiercely. "Cordon bleu~" she sangsong to only the tune that she could hear. "Cordon bleu~ Achew! Will I go out with choo, no? boohoo." as the song went. Unable to see anything more, it lacked a certain inspiration from her surroundings.

Leoxander flicked an ear back toward that sound, but his intention was to circle around in front of Mahri, loping into a lazy run if he had to.

Mahri found something of a clearing, the weeds were over grown and some spent flowerheads bobbed as she turned to meet Leo with feet planted and arms crossed. "Least you could bloody well do is stalk me as a man not a wolf." Stalk? Maybe she meant talk. Using her rather large, cub filled belly as a shelf for those crossed arms, the lycan tilts her head almost expectantly. No. Very expectantly.

Leoxander faced her looking moody, and definitely thrashed from the night before. The expression in his eyes was unforgiving, but he allowed her those few feet of 'safe space' between his jaws and her bulged front. One flicker of his ear before it set back angrily again, and to her words he snorted, then faintly showed his teeth her way, believing that she is not the one owed. Just that time taken to determine respect is still a long ways in coming, and the rogue turns with disappointment and impatience in his posture, heading back listlessly toward the captive's nest.

Jolie laid the gag aside, really a last resort as breathing could get kind of difficult, that way. The cord was used to lash the elf to the cot. No more headbutts, long-ears, she thought. Trollson made a heavy tread across the boards, back from whatever exploration of the place he'd made, his green skin a sickly kind of pale khaki. "If she shouts, knock her out again," was the instruction given the bouncer. Jolie had business to see to, out there - if the rest were still around, that was.

Trinsa stayed there, like a good, drug happy elf. Her song eventually fade as the entertainment of light specks started to form shapes and not-quite-images. Kind of how it looks when you close your eyes and watch the speckles. Except these were real! She could testify to that. And they talked to her describing her death except the tones that whispered harshly were not in front of her eyes but under the cot and in the walls, part of the floor, part of the air itself. It may have been their death, had she any knowledge of where she was kept was haunted. Of course she screamed, these were terrible things that put utter fear into her mind. What they described and herself tied down... a few repeated outbursts before her flailing started rocking her cot. Soon after a crash. Urghdak casually walked over to the elf, who actually had knocked herself out - what with all this head banging going on. Urghdak's meaty hand lowered down and gave another thunk. His reply to the unnecessary control? "I might have let her if she could sing better."

Jolie slipped down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to snap her head around - was that voices? in the walls? - momentarily spooked. Gathering herself, she made her way out to that long-neglected porch, its timbers creaking loud protest at yet another pair of unaccustomed visiting feet.

Mahri watches the captain turn and leave, shaking her head. "Ain't never gonna understand that one." Louder, because she knows he can damn well hear her, "Not if he doesn't talk to me!" Irritated, irritable and just a touch moody, Mahri turns on her heel and goes further into that overgrown patch of garden. Not particularly paying attention to direction or anything.

Leoxander seemed determined to humble her in wolf rank before such an impossible thing should happen. Alas, he knows better than to attack the pregnant bitch, and although irritated, his instinct leads him back to those many gathered and familiar scents. Wherever Caedan has gone, likely back into the lull of her own, poppy-memory world, it is in this general area the large wolf will come to station himself, mismatched eyes drifting, shadowed, toward the creak of steps on the porch.

Jolie was by then seated on the wormhole-riddled steps of the porch, staring at the hedges. Then at Leoxander, if he wandered back that way. The necromancer was tired herself, so many demands made of her lately, so many things to see to. Her gaze shifted off him, if he'd glare at a perceived challenge. Had she any to offer him, now was not the time, or the place.

Jolie said, "Nobody gets a ransom through like you do." Her voice was quiet, but she knew he'd hear it. "Ten grand, for help with it. Job's risky. She's in the Temple." That alone ought to tell the wolf what risk there was.

Leoxander was felt even if he wasn't seen, then. Her eyes could fix into the darkness but that aura of heat would be felt brushing by as he circled around the back of her almost daring her to check back over her shoulder, his claws ticking maliciously on the aged wood. He came to sit a short distance away at her other side, finally allowing some rest off his back seat, that bristled blond tail curling round his hindquarter. A turn of his head and an aim of tipped ears regarded Jolie's offer, and then he would look toward the teenager and woof a sound in his throat to get her attention. Being the mind reader she was, hopefully she'd meet his eyes, and hear his attempts to push that word, that thought, into her head to translate out loud. ~Fifteen.~

Caedan had slumped against the wall of the porch at some point and was busy trying to figure out the physics of this house from what she could see of it reflected in the minds of the various people who'd been inside it. She screwed up her face at that tickle of a word in her mind, that had to fight through quite a bit of fog until she made sense of it, and narrowed her eyes at the wolf to pin him as the culprit of this intrusion. There was a fair amount of languid hostility directed to him over hauling her all the way out here, away from home and other vices, but she caved and said quite suddenly and flatly, "Fifteen." Once spoken, she went back to examining the layer of dirt under her fingernails.

Mahri will eventually come back around to the abode and stay at the bottom of the steps a few minutes. She won't say anything, having caught Jolie's quietly spoken words and rightly assumed they weren't for her. Silver-eyed gaze flecks towards the now sitting wolf and she'll make her way up the steps carefully. She doesn't quite trust in their sturdiness. Passing Caedan, Mahri nods to the girl and continues on into the house to check on their unwilling guest. Urghdak isn't much different here than at the Corpse, standing sentinal at the door leading to the hastily prepared bedroom. Watchful and with those huge arms crossed across a barrel like chest. Once inside, Mahri will ease into a convenient chair and watch Trinsa for signs of awareness.

Mahri shrugs off the feeling of being watched.

Leoxander pulled at his whiskers again, lips tugged to show teeth at Mahri when she got near enough for him to do so.

Jolie laid the same flat stare on the teen as she'd turn to the wolf, though perhaps for different reasons. "Fifteen. For arranging the ransom -and- ensuring the drop-off isn't.. a clusterfuss." That last syllable oddly pronounced, as it was. "The mark for payout's Leodarkheart, got the sweets for the elf." Her eyes were green slits, studying him. Then turned back to Caedan. "There's something not right. None of my damn business, I suppose. But." It really wasn't, she decided, and just shut up at that point.

Mahri did her best too, not to hold the image of Leo's bared teeth at her. Running a hand lightly over her stomach, Mahri continues to watch. And wait.

Leoxander took a breath to sigh through his nose, but anyone could understand that body language to agree. His ears flattened back, to suggest he didn't like it, but he had no issue dealing with collecting a random for over a quarter of it's profit. Would pay for something to be continuously not right and thus just fine, for a while. He had a hunch Caedan knew this, too. Never one to sit for long, he was back on four paws and walking back toward the teenager but not close enough to let her touch him. Not yet.

Caedan 's hand came over the interior of her elbow, reflexively hiding a dark bruise there as Jolie turned her way. She narrowed her eyes, fighting through the fog to try and read to what Jolie referred. Between the muddle of both of their minds, the psychic couldn't find a clue. It rankled her, having to pick up on social cues instead of just seeking meaning internally. Her lips thinned as she studied the once-vampire, the darkness, and eventually she settled on, "I went to the pool to look for you. And found him." One hand lifted to pinch the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb and hold it there until she felt the pressure in her sinuses. As the werewolf crept closer, she immediately spread out, extending her legs and dropping her arms to her sides to take up as much space as possible in a subtle play for dominance.

Jolie said, "Yeah. I know." She'd watch the pair, impassive, her thoughts as guarded from herself as they were from the psychic. Business first, as ever… "I want seventy. Grand. For the ransom To account for your… fee. I have other costs to consider." She spoke this to Caedan, as one would to a translator, continuing smoothly, "So. What was it you wanted to see me for?"

Leoxander trotted a step that bumped his skull and shoulder into her in a gentle version of a ram butt when she did that, instinct telling him that it could not be allowed, particularly from a youth. They had to be set right before they got it in their heads they could step out of line. A low growl did not quite make into a snarl as he thrashed his head a bit against her ribs, large enough to reach on four paws, but it was a 'fake bite' meant to scare her back into obedience. The wolf really got to the rogue, in this body, just like the human overpowered the wolf, in the other.

Leoxander turned that growl on Jolie's words. Those ears heard just fine, and earlier on the path he'd heard her speak the number fifty.

Leoxander was also extraordinarily grouchy, from his down, hungry feeling and Mahri's behavior around him.

Jolie said to Leoxander, "I said. I have other costs." She understood the growl just fine, without help. "I'll up your cut to twenty."

Mahri is sure Trinsa will stay sleeping a good long while by now. A glance to a shuttered window is made to judge the time. As much as she can anyway. Getting up from her seat, Mahri, restless as ever and this time with somewhere to be, leaves Urghdak to the watching now and meanders her way to the porch. Using the exterior wall as a leaning post she cocks her head and listens to tail end of the conversation. From here at least, she's a view of the sky. Not that she can tell much by it other than it may or may not be late. Or early. Or somewhere in between.

Leoxander snorted a breath through that rough nose at Jolie. It was a 'fine', in wolf speak.

Jolie offered him another flat, green look. That was 'fine, back at you', in any language.

Caedan promptly fell over, sliding sideways under Leo's wolfish posturing. She righted herself and flattened her palm atop his snout to gently push his head down and away. "Gerroff, ugh." He was really no more well behaved than Henry. She trusted the wolf would understand Jolie's deal of his own accord and didn't translate back to him immediately, although she stored that morsel of information away for later in case he needed it recalled. "I wanted to talk to you." She cast a sidelong look at Leo and thinned her lips again. "But not now. Things are too …" She waved her hand around vaguely, attempting to convey a sense of topsy-turviness that she wasn't able to articulate. Her hand fell away from Leo's snout and she looked over him to mention offhandedly to Jolie, "I think he wants a bone."

Jolie did not change expression as she looked to Caedan. "I'll be here. Or at the Corpse." The offer thrown out for that put-off talk, she rose to her bare feet. "I have no doubt he'd like one," she added, turning for the maw of that unusual house, brushing past Mahri. Though she paused for a look back, briefly. "This job ought to be done quickly. The elf's troublesome." And then the house swallowed her.

Leoxander nudged her hand off his snout, if that counted. A chuffed dismissal of the teenager, but he wouldn't wander far from her. Speaking of shameless, Mahri might feel that firm poke of his nose right against her clad backside in passing, a rough nudge perhaps offered toward the tail end of that movement as he went back to his restless, hopeless pacing. The deal was spoken and he had his target, so he rounded off toward the hedges but paused with a frustrated look back at the navigator, waiting for her to catch up. That look said they were leaving.

Mahri calls after Jolie, "Hey. I have an appointment. I'll be back." Maybe Jolie had forgotten. But now she's left with Caedan and Leo. To the latter she'll say a simple, "I'm sorry," before pushing away from the exterior of the wall and heading for the steps then the path that led through the jungle-garden.

Caedan begrudgingly stood, and followed not the wolf, but the captain, after casting a lingering, thoughtful glance back at the sineater. There was something not right, alright. She half-stepped, half-stumbled off the porch and turned the direction of home.

Caedan said to Mahri in passing, "I want to meet him." And then she was gone, weaving after the werewolf.

Mahri mutters when Leo and Caedan pass, "Chances are you have." Ducking her head to avoid low hanging branches, the wolf is on her way to Rynvale.

Concerns, at the Temple

Leodarkheart said, "Valkor, really I hate I missed the big fellow." Looks about seeing Gwen and Verthica. "Has anyone seen Trinsa, I wanted to talk to her about something. News that I wanted to share with all of you, but wanted to discuss it with her first."

Verthica said, "Afraid not. She's been missing for some time now. I was hoping you had a clue as to her whereabouts."

Gwenilyn looks at him with a worried glance. “I have not seen her, which is strange. Come to think of it, I have not seen her since about the time of the ball at the Hanging Corpse.... Verthica, have you seen her?"

Leodarkheart said, "Missing? No last I saw of her she had left Ikari's shop and was heading to the Temple."

Gwenilyn said, "Leo, I mislike this terribly. I have been unable to make contact with her mentally as well. I fear something has happened, though I know not what."

Verthica said, "Well she isn't on the link. I'd have thought that if she were in trouble she'd have called on us. So she has to be missing."

Leodarkheart said, "Missing, I surely hope she isn't missing. Have you inquired about her to anyone. The damn shopkeep at Lucy's Crossing may know. that is where Trinsa works. Perhaps I should check there."

Gwenilyn said, "I will help however I am able. My powers are ... odd right now...*she slides a glance to Verthica, then back to Leo* But I will try."

Lucy's Crossing

Mary seems to be out tending her garden at the base of the tree in centralized Larket.

Leodarkheart walks to the door of the shop and notices that Mary is appears to be tending a garden. Leo decides that he had better anounce himself, his mild threat that was made the other day may cause the poor woman a fright. "Excuse, Mary. I believe it was Mary. Might I have a moment of your time?"

Mary bounced her head up to see where the voice was coming from. At this late at night, she certainly was not expecting visitors. Already the guards were walking over toward LeoD to question him. Mary saw who it was, thanks to the torchlight that met LeoD's face, that same light she gardened by, and waved them away. "Can I help you?" she asked with uncertainty. "Oh my. It's you! Have you seen Trinsa? Tell me that blessed child has not ran off... Unless it was to get married." she said saucily while whiping her hands on an apron.

Leodarkheart was a tad shocked when Mary asked him the question that had weighed on his mind while traveling here. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Apparently no one has seen her. The last time I spoke to her, she was going to head back her the next day said you may be worried about her. I am beginning to get worried."

Mary stood up with her apron still in her hands while her features reflected her concern. "So you did not run off to get married?" She asked hypothetically. "Hm. She came by the other day and told me about what a wonderful time she had. I had a few projects for her to do and she said she had those done... " Quietly the woman checked to see if there was anything shining on the vampire's left hand but nothing was to be found and her concern turned into a frown. "The other day - Oh, what's today, Friday? Saturday by now. Saturday ..." Mary counted on her fingers back, "Wednesday I sent her to Kelay to put up a few advertisements."

Leodarkheart recalled seeing the post inside the Kelay Tavern concerning a sale upcoming at Lucy's. "You say that was Wednesday?" Leo's best recollection gave their last conversation as Tuesday. "Well atleast she made it this far, and she has yet to return from the job you gave her?"

Mary finally approached Leo mumbling, "Let me check something." before letting herself into her own stall. Maybe she had missed a note or something. Trinsa was always good at leaving her notes if she was off to run errands while she was with a customer. When Mary came back out she came back empty handed. "No note. Oh Cyris help us." she prayed. "You are one of those vampires, right? Can't you just go sniff her out or something?" With her eyes she pleaded at the other while her hands wrung her dirty apron.

Leoxander would waste no time heading inside. He'd long since noticed the healer on his heels and determined she would be an ideal accessory, though he tied a scrap of cloth 'round her face and neck to pull over her head like a hood, as though she were his desert born wife meaning to conceal her identity from all but her husband. Not the case, as he himself had a black mask over his features though that riot of blond hair remained identifiable. The door opened and Mary would have two more to deal with; it seemed to be a busy night for Lucy's Crossing. Honestly, he had a task for Keturah, a reason for being there, explained long before the journey had been made. "I guess she's smaller than you." Particularly in the chest, he thought, with a glance, but he wouldn't say that bit out loud as they walked inside.

Keturah , terribly fussy as she was, would not have let the captain out of her sight- first disappearance out the doorway not included. She'd almost have been too happy when he discovered her following so soon, even if it meant wearing a new hood. That was picked at, repeatedly, though she'd drop her fussing fingertips the moment they had arrived at the shop. "You think?" Not that much smaller, surely, though moss-gaze was already roaming the clothing thoughtfully before her brow furrowed. G'damn.. she really.. really hated tailors.

Leodarkheart laughed, "Well it doesn't quite work that way, she would of had to have been through her recently." Leo turned to see the two masked individuals enter, he didn't know either of them. Leo could feel a well of angst building inside. Masked folks entering any establishment is more often then not a precursor to trouble. "Perhaps you should see to those two and we can continue our conversation." Hearing what little of the exchange between them that had occurred they were comparing someone's endowment against another’s.

Mary turned her head at the sound of others and the notice of LeoD. She strolled over, forgetting her apron and adopting a no-nonsense approach. "I'm sorry." she said, placing a hand on her hip. "We are closed until tomorrow at eight." The two guards stationed watched. Mary did not wave them off but at her cue, they just might have an interesting night. Casually two slinked over in Mary's direction.

Leoxander found it all so amusing, it seemed. "If you're closed why you tending to that bloke? He got a bigger sword'n I do?" Leo wasn't carrying a sword, so one could only guess where those crude statements led. A light shove sent Keturah about her task in a good hearted manner, because the girl needed clothing, before they were done. He might, too. He was wearing brown, worn leather pants clearly too big for his waist and a black shirt he'd stolen on the road. Knightly footwear... it just didn't add up. He watched those guards move to the shopkeeps side. Idiots. "You gonna measure me or do I gotta flirt for some g'damned service?" His eyes grazed over the other only person in the establishment, the vampire.

Keturah 's study flickered from a particularly eye catching piece of silk, to Mary, then to the guards. Oh, no. She knew what she was here for, thank you ma'am. And sir, she added inwardly, after that shove. Silently, the druidess began to pick through the clothing. Awkwardly, almost, the druidess pulled at the sleeve of one shirt, gaze drifting from the merchandise, back to the group. Fingertips twitched, to curl into the fabric. Right. She was here to find something for the girl. "Is why we are not going to tailors.." murmured softly under her breath as she glanced back to the clothes.

Leodarkheart narrowed his gaze upon the male, "The lady said she was closed, she is not assisting me with any purchase, but information. As soon as I am finished I would assume she will go back to tending her garden as she was when I first interrupted her." Leo watched as the female of the the small band of whatever they were began perusing the fabrics. The guards moved in as would be their fashion, due to the recent occurrences in Larket. King painintheass and his queen sought to protect every inch of their domain. "Allow me to gather what I need and if she wishes she will assist you, mine is of a greater concern then, 'Oh, what should I wear?" Leo clasped his hands to his face as he finished the statement. He was slightly more concerned with Trinsa's whereabouts then dealing with a couple of ruffians.

Mary might have dropped her jaw at that talk if she were in a different business, however when her mouth opened, "Not sure but I expect you brought a fluffer to find out." Glancing at Ket briefly, then back to LeoX "Let me just go get my tape." Mary stormed to Keturah, none too pleased and asked, "Fine, hurry it up, what do you need? Pants, dress, skirt? Come now, let's get you moving on." So much for getting any guardening done this evening.

Leoxander knew Larket long before he'd seen his step-brother return to rule it. Still, he had certain new jurisdictions, here. An amusing thought, which caused that smirk more than Leo'D's statement. " She could be pleasin' you for all I care, mate. Business is business, and mine's with yours." This said casually as he continued to skirt through the racks, looking for a male piece of attire in that joint. Seemed it didn't exist. It might take LeoDarkheart a moment to realize that Leo'X, as he were known, had come here for him, specifically. Still, as he approached the two, he'd play in to look toward Mary. "Some bloody pants would do. These aren't really fittin' too well." Indeed, it looked as though the attire he wore wasn't his size, in any means. He would wait to see how much either would cooperate.

Keturah shot a glance toward the vampire. There was some hidden amusement lurking within her gaze, perhaps, though it flickered out the moment she was approached by.. seamstress? Was that what the females of the tailor variety were called? "Something.. she is tall." As if that were specific enough. Eyes turned on the captain for a moment, and the amusement.. misplaced as it was, returned again. So she'd slip a touch closer to Mary, if the woman.. or the guards allowed it, cup a hand against her already covered mouth and made a much softer request.

Keturah whispered, "A corset.. please. Oh. If you have one with lace.. in that size." She'd nod toward the blonde. "I think I'd appreciate it."

Leoxander smirked his approval to the girl.

Leodarkheart watched as Mary began to wait on the two. He was about to storm from the shop when the male, looking all the role of a vagabond, caught his attention. "My business is no concern of yours, unless perhaps you have information to offer up about an elf. Peculiar bracelet fashioned from bells of a sort. Get you clothes and move on." Leo shook his head, his day had gone from fairly decent to hearing of Valkor's return to shaky learning of Trinsa's mysterious disappearance. All of this culminating with the intrusion by two wayfares, causing him to have to wait. "Whatever they wish Mary, fix the bill to me. The quicker you finish with them the sooner I can find Trinsa." Surely the offer of payment for what they wanted would hurry them on just a tad faster.

Mary nodded, keeping a crisp, practiced professionalism about the quiet conversation and moved over to a table full of bobbles and notions known for such things as knitting and crochet. Trinsa's table located behind the register's counter. She snapped up a tape for LeoX's waist, should he alow to do a rough measurement during his parusing. There is no way that she was going to hem something up perfectly for him but she could find something that did not drape on his frame like a skeleton wearing a parka. "Just a moment, Sir." Mary pulled the tape to it's end and started measuring LeoX first around the waist, then at the length of his leg. One more measurement around the middle of his chest. Dimentions were mentally noted before she wandered off to find some brown trousers in another area of the stall and flipped them over her arm. "Miss." she shouted to Ket. "Over here, please." Indicating a selection of the face-covered woman's request. "This rack will do." She then buzzed off to find a shirt for the man behind the cloth.

Leoxander sighed. Sometimes he dared to think these tasks would be easy. But never from this particular employer, to target for such a wealthy amount. And so, no weapons were drawn - as seen he didn't seem to have any. But he would turn to cross the room and leave Mary to tend to Keturah as he went to his business with Leo'D. "Listen, Mate. Been a long day. I don't particularly feel like cracking your skull open, savvy? You just give me what's owed, and we have no issue. We'll get our clothes and move on, as you say." His voice was a bit hoarse from the hangover, from the days awake. How many now? He wasn't entirely sure, but the extract kept him going. A casual look over his shoulder, at the tailor. "And yes, Mary, fix the bill to our friend here. Seems he's got the coin to spare." Those mismatches eyes drifted back to what was clearly smelled as a vampire. Leo'X had seen him, here and there, before.

Keturah watched the activity for a moment before gaze drifted back to the silk. It probably wouldn't fit the teen properly, but it was something. She tugged it off the rack, fingers lost in the blue as easily as if she were dropping inked tips into living water. Reminding herself of the task at hand, the druidess would be drifting off to the appointed rack. Lucky, thing. She was very good at keeping a straight face, as she sorted through that particular merchandise.

Leodarkheart listened as the man made out his request, though what Leo could owe him he did not know. LeoX got close enough to LeoD so as he could tell he the man was a lycan. Not bad company mind you, he counted a few among his friends. The eyes though they are what caught his attention, he had seen the interesting pair at another time, another place. Though where escaped Leo at the present moment. "Pray tell, what is it I owe you ,and how did I become indebted to you? As far as cracking anyone's skull, not in the mood, as I presently need it at the moment."

Mary would have charged double for the after hours service but with the bill being added to LeoD's, well, she couldn't do that to a friend of a friend who was trying to find that friend who is her worker. Brown riding pants, a little snug in the breeches, however she was sure he wouldn't mind since he was so keen to talk about it, a white, linen shirt with sleeves, both a check. Next was boots for the intruder turned customer. She had no idea what size he would be. About to call over LeoX, she paused, staring at the conversation that was at hand. She shook her head "Get these two out." she grumbled to herself during a slip of her professionalism and went on to pick a size two smaller then what she thought he was wearing. Maybe they are too tight. Leather stretches to some degree, so she left that to the man's problem. It's the little victories of spite. "Did you find anything suitable?" she asked, hardly wondering why the woman wanted what she did. She is too large for her but maybe it is for her mother or a sister.

Leoxander would get his order, at least, for the night. Leo Darkheart may have to wait, for whatever reason, but poor Mary would suffer. Brown pants. White shirt. Showed his ink. No, he declined white. So she'd have to find him another color before she got him out of her shop. The boots, he loved, and he even offered her a pat on the cheek to reward the tailor for her effort, on those. "Alright, relax lady..." The rogue grinned at her, then the guard he could so easily kill, but would not. He patted that guy's cheek, too. "We're goin'..." A glance to make certain Keturah had found enough to clothe the girl.

Leoxander bought 1 green velvet-skirt. Leoxander bought 1 black-velvet leggings. Leoxander bought 1 colorfully-hemmed corset. Leoxander looked confused as he was handed a corset.

Keturah had what she wanted for the girl. Then Leo was handed that corset, and the druidess.. almost.. almost couldn't contain that snort of laughter. It would have been quite easier to look the picture of innocence had she not had that hood on. "I bet it'd fit under your armor.." she murmured. Cradling the clothes to her chest with one arm, the druidess would press a palm against the rogue's back, just in case he needed to be ushered on out. Or maybe she wanted to leave before she couldn't hold her laugh in any longer.

Leoxander would make certain he was behind Keturah on the exit, and Mary might hear the sharp crack of a hand on backside in result for the corset. The thieves were gone, their bill added to the vampire's tab, as stated.

Mary watched the guard grunt back grinning, patient for the fireworks, not the sparklers like the pat on the cheek was. Had she just been - Damn chauvinist. At least they were leaving. There was that much to be thankful for but on the other hand, she still had the missing Trinsa unresolved. This she would spend the night pondering, looking for clues in her mind of the last day she saw the elf. "Lock up?" the second guard asked and she nodded, thanking him for the task. She followed out shortly after.

Next Day, Kelay Tavern

Leo made an entrance that some might notice, others would not. The tavern door opened and a dark dressed figure no where near Eboric's intimidating height stepped inside, a black mask in tact around his features to conceal his expression. Of course, his identity was another matter - tattoos still evident and a toss of blond over his eyes; he may not be on as many wanted posters as of late but the criminal wasn't difficult to recognize, even without his dog. Standing not in the doorway but in the walkway beyond, to the point people would have to step around him to leave, his eyes grazed the common room in search, hands at his side and not far from the hilts of twin blades, holstered at either hip. These were likely not the only two weapons on his person.

Eboric , who had been watching Ranok and Aritriel with some amusement, switches his gaze to Leoxander. He seems at first glance to be simply curious, but a closer look might show that he is assessing the other man, judging his various strengths and weaknesses.

Aritriel sits up and leans forward, her face a few inches from Ranok's, "Look, you barely know the guy. He is a great man and is doing what he can to help, along with gathering funds to help the clan. You need to get off your high horse and quit thinking that you can fight and beat the hell out of every bad guy that comes along." She leans back and crosses a leg over the other as best she can, "I may be a female, I may be pregnant, but it doesn't mean that I am stupid and helpless. I know what I am doing."

Cerinii sweets did cause a loud crunching and grinding, but the Avian didn't seem to be in discomfort or in any form of pain. She must have ate too many of these before... Anyhoo, she continues on her with her tinkering of tiny cogs.

Leodarkheart checks the postings on the board for any information concerning the disappearance of Trinsa. He was abruptly pulled away the other day, when he was speaking with Mary about the whole situation. Their conversation had been interrupted by a couple of customers desiring proper clothing. The masked male of the group had began to speak to Leo about him owing to the stranger. Finishing with the boards, having learned nothing new from them he stepped to the bar and inquired to Nancy if she had heard anything either. Just a subtle shake of her head coupled with a slight droop in her expression, was all the response that Leo was given. Leo decided not to press any further and took up his normal table in the darkened corner, taking in a quick break before he began his search once more.

LeoX caught wind of the random conversations taking place throughout Mesthak's establishment. He saw the winged metal worker and her choice of snack for the afternoon. But his attention would settle upon the vampire mulling over the notice boards. Those different colored eyes, a little glazed and veiled by overgrown hair, followed the man's trek to the bar, and finally to that private table, patiently. It was then when the target was settled that LeoD would be approached by a familiar figure, who helped himself to a seat on the other side of said table, calmly. "You look troubled, mate..." Came a low voice from behind that mask with a movement of his jaw, inked arms folding across the surface to fix that predator's stare upon the dark haired, less evil version of 'Leo'.

Ranok doesn't flinch at Ari. Instead, he speaks calmly, "A goot man hain't de person hyu need to qvestion zumone vo hes treaten you life tvice over, nearly killed Roy und you child, und schtill holds der life in danger." He gently pushes her out of his face, whether she likes it or not, using his strength more and more if she resists, "Tink, Ari. Tink. Hyu take him into kustody, den vat? Sully de hends uf you klan mates as hyu bloody dem to find out vat de peon knows? Und it's chust dat. A grunt. Vorddless. Deed hyu not see how badly he hendled de first kidnappink attempt? Hm? It vas hall he kould do to run vith his life. Tvice now, Hy vould guess, he held hyu at knife point. Und tvice, now, zumone else hed to saff hyu. Hyu say hyu hain't defenseless, but...trends do not agree."

Aritriel said to Ranok, "Roytoc tried to save me, and there was no knife pulled on me. I am more than happy to give the guy money for the freedom of Roytoc and me. Money is not a precious thing. It is a material thing of this world, and cannot be taken with us. I am not to worried to be gone twelve thousand gold."

Leodarkheart simply nodded his head as he looked up and recognized the stranger from the other day. "You could say as much." Leo kicked out the chair opposite of him and indicated for the fellow to sit. "Suppose you wouldn't mind some more of my gold either. Sit, have a drink and tell me what it was you meant by paying you what was owed." Leo was focused on finding Trinsa, but perhaps the stranger might know something. More often then not when a dark shadow hangs about, something sinister had already occurred. "I am looking for someone, a friend." Leo stopped at friend, the stranger needed to know nothing more about their relationship.

Ranok throws up a hand, "Und how do hyu KNOW dat he'll fork over de kure! Chust hope really, really herd? Dis hain't a schtory, Ari. Dis hain't zum fairy tale vere de bad guy keeps his vord. He tried to KIDNAP hyu. Vat makes hyu tink he vill hend over de kure vunce de money iz in his hends? Vat makes hyu tink dere even iz a kure?"

Leoxander might have been smirking beneath that mask. "I never mind." He was still wearing the new pants that Mary had tailored for him on Leo'D's coin. Although reluctant, a server would approach the Leos' table to place something down in front of the rogue, then the vampire. The first of which he lifted to scent for poison before he took a drink and looked back toward the other. "I guess that's a helluva coincidence then. Me wantin' gold, you wantin' your friend. Just a damn pity we couldn't help each other out, eh?" Something about his amused tone might cause LeoD to become a little suspicious. Meanwhile, the pirate waited for the vampire to figure it all out. He eased back on his chair to lift a muddy boot to the table edge, propping it there so he could tilt his chair back on two legs and balance into a recline. Another casual drink taken, in that position.

Aritriel said to Ranok, "And I am not prissy, helpless human either. I am stronger than them. And I don't know what fairy tale you are talking about, but I have never seen any of them end in happiness. You are only one person, while he has many. You cannot kill them all and we do not want to kill them. We have a plan already and talking it out as you spend your time yapping at me."

Ranok sighs. His patience was wearing thin, "Alright. Alright. Fine. Despite komplete evidence to de kontrary, Hy vill accept you klaim to be able to defend youself. Tell me uf dese plans. Und how Hy kan help."

Aritriel said to Ranok, "The Champions plan on talking to him, turning him from his evil ways and to help turn his life around."

Roytoc slowly entered the tavern, his eyes blood -red, no longer the usual gray, they were obviously seen. He looked angry and his jaw was clenched, or maybe it was just the difference in eye color, but the bulky stone bracers could easily be seen around his wrists, a nuisance to movement as well as his arms weight. He looked around the tavern hoping to find Aritriel, he was tired of losing track of her, and her unwittingly getting into trouble, he needed to protect her.

Ranok just stares at Aritriel. Flat out stares, for a good minute. It was like what she said was absolutely the dumbest plan that he's ever heard of. His verbal response, more flat then the surface that they sat up, confirms this, "Vat." He holds up a hand, preventing Ari from answering his non-question. The other rubs his face for another good minute. Once that has passed, both hands go onto the table, "Hokay, now tell me a plan dat hain't kompletely schtupeed."

Leodarkheart tossed a couple coins on the table to satisfy Mesthak's greed. Leo took up the glass and stopped short of drinking it while the man conveyed his false concern, spattered with sarcasm. Leo mulled it over such a coincidence indeed. "How about you stop playing coy and spit out what you know. She disappears, you appear seeming to hassle me wherever I find myself at. Your games are tiresome, and I am not interested. If it's business you are at then handle your business. No more games, no more riddles." Leo laid this out as calm as one could, if the man truly did have the information he was after why piss him off. "Just let us be done with this, I am sure you have more important people to fleece."

Aritriel stands up and nearly shouts at Ranok, "If you have a better plan, then go find Panthium and talk to him. But for now, I am doing what was asked for and sticking to it. Giving the man the ransom seems to be a good way to get Roytoc back. You can find ways to work around the spell he has on us, but it won't work. Kill him, before he gets the money, and you kill three people. I swear, if that happens at your hand, I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your life and make it miserable." She tuns on and starts for the door, running into people if they got in her way, even if it was Roytoc.

Leoxander continued to work on his drink casually while LeoD's temper started to flare. How it all seemed to amuse the rogue. He'd missed these games. "Oh, it's bloody simple mate. Easiest game I know. It's called you pay me, I deliver." He rocked back a little farther, almost to the point of falling over backward, before he let the chair drop down level and set his mug on the table, inked knuckles still bent around the handle, exposed from the cut of fingerless black gloves. "Course this is a bit tricky of a situation, I'd say, you havin' to worry about their price plus my fee." This added as an afterthought while he absently picked at a knife wound scab on his arm, healing faster than such a gash would, on a human.

Roytoc is suddenly pushed out of the way by something, he staggers a bit then recovers fast seeing that Aritriel was the one who had either purposefully or accidentally pushed him away, she was stronger than she looked. He felt like stopping her, but she seemed pretty angry, instead he looked to the big man she was storming away from, and began approaching Ranok, glancing every now and then back at Ari's retreating form. "Ranok," He called as he finally was near the man, "What is going on?" He asked, his red eyes glinting.

Aritriel vanishes out of the tavern and spreads her wings, flying to a peaceful place.

Ranok grumbles to himself in another language as he rubs his face now with both hands. He sounds quite unhappy. When Roy appears, he looks at the man, "Hy'm gunna tie dat gurl up for her own protection ontil she gets a lick uf sense, dat's vat's gun on."

Roytoc nodded as he scratched at the stone bracers, "I love her, but she has a knack of getting into trouble, she was lucky I came along when I did, I fought that coward and sliced a chunk of his shoulder off, blew out his kneecap with a dagger and shot three arrows into his arm, he didn't hit me once, but then he pulled out the antidote and threatened to break it, there was nothing I could do but surrender, I did it for her and now I'm trapped in that man's scheme. These bracers prevent my mind from putting up mental barriers and protections, hence why my eyes are once again red, it's quite disorienting, makes me look like my brother, except shorter. That's another problem, I'm afraid that he will finally find me now that my mental barriers are down, but that is a problem for another time," Roy said with a sigh.

Eilyo slips back into the tavern, wiping angrily at her eyes, a rather sour look on her face. Whatever conversation she just had with Xzarren left her in very bad mood, and there was no hiding it. She silently makes her way over to Ranok, and waits there, remaining silent as she gathers herself.

Leodarkheart finished the drink swiftly, tossing the glass down letting it bounce. If it broke, no matter. Just another thing for Mesthak to bitch at him about. "Dammit, did you not just hear what I said? Is that mask cutting the flow off to your brain, or is it covering your ears." Leo stopped for a second, took a breath and calmed down, no need in letting himself get all out of sorts. "So tell me your price and what am I supposed to be buying?" Leo pulled his chair back a bit and placed his hands on the table near its edge.

Ranok grunts, "De bastard heals qvickly, doesn' he? Hy schtabbed him in de kidney, und schlash open his chest. Hall he got vas a dagger trown at me. Und he vas schpry enough to get uff a teleport schpell." He taps his cheek where a scar lies. It's healing rather well for its age. Ranok gives Roy a frank look, "Hyu know dat dere von' be henny last minute change uf heart, Roy. Hyu're realistic, like Hy. Trust me. Hy know dat pipple kan change. Hy em de patron saint uf dat. But not out uf de gootness uf de heart. Hyu don' vant to know vat it took to open my eyah." His tone adds, the words unspoken, 'And you'd best not damn well ask' to his latter statement.

LeoX retorted to LeoD in a calm manner. "Don't get your britches bunched now, mate." He had no need to reach for blades or be threatening, the vampire was one of few who didn't immediately annoy the foul tempered rogue. Hands on the table was universal, for business, gambling, all those shady matters where men at a table couldn't trust an unseen reach. He raised his mug for that last drink to finish it off and dropped it on it's base on the table, empty. "Seventy five, though I hate to put a number on a 'friend'." Such false compassion in his tone as he leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed, an arm finding rest across the table.

Xiang makes his way into the tavern, shrouded by a darkness that is new for the follower of the death god. Amplified is the level of which this man can bring a chill down even the most vile of man, a more predatory look engraved within the pallid features of the trained and proficient killer. He walks with a heightened confidence towards the bar, ever wapped within the robes of his order, which are the pitchest of blacks. His pale blue eyes, now having a dangerous gleam held within, peer out from beneath the hood, to fall upon the only man he knows here. Leoxander.

Roytoc grinned, making him look as if he were going to slit someone's throat, the glaring red eyes really helped with that outlook of evil, "I know of changes of heart, I know because I have changed my ways, for the most part, and I also know that humans are rare to change their ways, especially priests or mages, they find an objective and stick to it, they must fulfill it. That man will not give, he must be stopped, but only after Aritriel is safe again, then I will personally see that man dead, and it would be an honor for you to help, my friend," Roy hissed, seeming rather sore about the manner.

Ranok ignores Xiang completely still. The apparent shroud over the monk has no effect on Ranok. For one to be chilled, one would have to have some sort of fear of death and Ranok has a decent grasp on that matter, "Ve kill him later, Roy. First ve get de kure, if vun eksists. Den ve kick his ass. He's got a trick or tvo. Kastink up schpires from de ground from his gott, Hy tink. Und dat healink. Ve vill hef to hit herd und fast. Incapacitate. Und den...ve ask him a qvestion or tvo." Roy would probably know a thing or two about the method that Ranok would go about asking those questions.

Leoxander appears to be stationed comfortably at a back table with a dark haired vampire also called 'Leo'. The two keep their conversation quiet, though the masked rogue does drift a glance toward the door, aware that someone is looking his way. The challenge in Xiang's eyes is met, and the wolf's lock on his until he paces by toward the bar, out of range to glare at easily.

Eilyo randomly spoke, clearly deep in her thoughts, and her words were directed towards Ranok. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your honesty?" She then glances towards Roytoc and sighs, a frown on this lips. After glancing back and forth between the two, she speaks. "And, whatever way I can help, I want to. Anything I can do, let me know."

Roytoc nodded, "I can see no reasoning with that man, so it would seem that those actions would be the most beneficial, though even if there was another way I wouldn't take it. He tried to hurt my friends, threaten me, then fight unfairly, when he is moments from death, bah, then again those who fight and run away live to fight another day," Roy brushed a hand through his hair and sat down at Ranok's table, he licked his lips and crossed one leg over the other. "I wish for my gray eyes back, I did not miss these piercing crimson ones in the least," Roy commented. Roytoc then looked at Eilyo and frowned, last time he had spoken with her he had insulted her deeply, "Lady Eilyo, I owe you an apology, I am deeply sorry for the pain I had caused you, and the insults I threw at you. Even if you are still angry I will one day make it up to you," Roy told her sincerely.

Eilyo waves her hand at Roytoc idly, sighing softly. "I hold no grudge against you. Make it up to me by getting your love bird out of this mess, eh?"

Leodarkheart jumped from the table, slamming his hands on the table causing it to buckle. LeoX's mug flies off in one direction, spilling whatever remaining liquid there was in it. His is lost under the rubble of the table. "You!! tell me where she is, now! How dare you, all this for gold." Leo places his hand on his dagger as he makes his way towards the masked man. Stopping short of LeoX's reach. "Tell me who is behind all this."

Eilyo feels a little ignored by Ranok, but says nothing. She nods to Roytoc. "Again, anything I can do to help, I'm willing.”

Ranok was actually about to say something to Eilyo when LeoD's outburst catches his attention. The armored man stands up, holding up a hand, "Hey, now. Kalm down everyone. Vat's gun on?"

Eilyo then notices Leo's outburst. She excuses herself and moves over to the vampire, placing a slender hand gingerly on his arm. "Leo dear, what's going on?"

Grix does not like crowds this big, and makes sure to find a table alone and with a good view of the room. He looks rather twitchy, eyes darting back and forth from person to person just a tad nervously.

Roytoc shook his head, "He will be paid, so that Ari and I have our free will back, then an ambush would be the best bet, he would think that he had succeeded, but the thing is he would probably teleport, or try to double-cross me, so I'm not sure," Roytoc murmured, stroking a large black feather hanging from a chain around his neck. He ignores the violent outbreak, he is too used to them in Kelay to much mind.

Xiang moves at a pace much faster than any mortal should be able to, and now stands besides the man known as Leoxander, as he says. " Do you require my assistence?"

Grix sniffs the air with a hint of unease. Too many races, too many people, it was getting claustrophobic and the rat had grown up in a life that caused far too much paranoia in his mind to stay in the tavern for long.

Leoxander thought things would be kept quiet, anyhow. Such was not the case when he pushed one of the vampire's buttons, and he'd calmly scoot his chair back while his empty mug fell off the tilt of a broken table. Standing slowly, he'd still make no move for a weapon as that blade was taken in the other's hand, eyes shifting down and back from the knife, a warning look fixed upon Darkheart's gaze. "If you think I damn well came all this way to take your demands, you're wrong, mate. Put it away before I make you a new pocket to keep it in." A motion of his jaw toward the dagger, and that would be Leo'Ds only change to keep blood out of their business. "Be a helluva lot easier to just pay your fee and 'let us be done with this', as you said. You ain't the only one with my gold weighing you down."

Leoxander did not pay attention to those who'd turn their focus and questions on them. He did recognize the fact that Xiang was closer to him, which caused a note of tension in the rogue's shoulders. He wouldn't tell the monk off, yet, because so far they were back on the right foot. Mismatched eyes track Eilyo as she closes in and so bluntly asks what's going on when clearly Leo'D is angry at Leo'X and brandishing blade. Kelay people, they just loved to stick their nose in it.

Deidra quietly enters the tavern. She winces at all the people, and noise. She had came for a nice quiet drink and relaxation. It didn't look like she was going to be getting the relaxation part. She shrugs it off and finds one of the few empty tables left.. If nothing else maybe she would find some entertainment. She orders a drink and watches everyone carefully.

Xiang does not need to be told anything, if actions escalated any higher, the monk believes the lycan knows he has an ally here. Xiang has already killed for the rogue, quite a few times.

Ranok resists the urge to facepalm as Eilyo walks into the thick of things. He sincerely hoped that she didn't take after his tendency to leap into things in the worst possible manner. He, for one, drifts closer, slowly. Not within striking distance, of blade or stave. He's not one to take sides when he knows so little, "No need for schteel, friends. If dis iz business gone vrong, ve kan fix dis. No need for blood, eh?" Xiang is placed under scrutiny. Something that the man didn't like. Like the monk was preparing to strike someone. A hand rests on the blade of his longsword, the other held in the air in a pacifying gesture.

Roytoc ignored the matters completely, trying to tune our the whispers in his head instead, and the horrible images of his past he had forgotten how horrible it had been before he had learned to fully block out his family and put up mental barriers, he just sighed and rubbed his face.

Eilyo would've probably stuck her tongue out at Ranok had he facepalmed.. But he didn't, so she didn't. Point is, Leo'D is a really old friend of hers, and if he was this wound up about something, she wanted to know what, and was ready to help.

Xiang is far from tense. The monk is actually quite relaxed as the tension builds. Ready and willing to lay waste if need be.

Leoxander did not bother to look at Ranok, but somehow, whether being assisted or simply knowing, Leo kept check on the man's movements and his eye sort of twitched at out spoken words. "Whatever the hell you just said, don't. Let's keep that trap you call a mouth shut, savvy?" Another look over Eilyo, so near to his 'opponent', but she did not seem to be a threat to him.

Eboric suddenly seems to notice the growing tension, and a smile spreads across his face.

Leodarkheart looks at LeoX, still oblivious as to who he is, as should everyone else, being that he is so well hidden under his mask. Leo shook his head, looking from Eilyo to the others in the bar. "I think we should be elsewhere to discuss this. Too public, too many folks getting unnecessarily injured. Perhaps we should take this elsewhere, I'll mind my blade and we'll discuss further the gold. Perhaps I might be able to sweeten your fee." Leo waited for the other to make a move as he took his hand from the dagger holding it opened palm towards the ground.

Morana silently steps into the confines of the tavern with nothing but a chilling wind to announce her presence. Her icy gaze sweeps over the room for only a moment before she heads to the bar, and quickly enough finds herself a cigarette and match. When Mesthak approaches her, she offers him a fanged grin before saying in a chilling tone, "Whiskey."

Eilyo frowns, but understands that Leo'D doesn't want her involved. She sighs and nods, moving away from the man. She sits at the table next to Roytoc, frowning as she sits deep in her thoughts.

Ranok gives the slightest of nods. He knows that his standing up did less then nothing to calm down LeoD from whatever it was that LeoX did to anger him, but he is pleased nonetheless. He, too, returns back to his table. Hand rests lightly still on the hilt of his blade. He did not recognize LeoX's face, but those tattoos would serve to remind on the next meeting Ranok would have with the man.

Morana eyes the tense situation unfolding between the three males, and begins to wonder about the one in the mask. He seemed familiar enough, but she could not recall a name or place.

Leoxander didn't particularly mind getting out of the public eye. "I've got s*** to do." He crudely reminded the man he was doing business with, but he would turn to leave that broken bit of table for Nancy or Mesthak to clean up. Oh they always enjoyed when the pirate came to town for a visit, yes indeed, the dwarf's angry cursing from the back verified that. Though, rather then head right for the door, Leo made a detour to the bar where he came to lean casually at Morana's side and gave her pack of cigarette's a glance. She wouldn't need her match - a gnomish tin device was pulled from pocket and with a click of lid, he'd run his thumb across the scrape of metal on stone to ignite a slow burning wick nestled there, in a small flame, offering her a light. "You wouldn't mind bein' a doll and sharin' one of those with me, would you?" And if she allowed it, he'd just reach out, to make it obvious he'd have the one from her lips, if she played along. Any resistance and he'd do no such thing, but wait to see if she would pass him a freshly rolled one. A motion of his jaw was made during all this, to indicate Leo Darkheart should head outside. The rogue would be just a step behind, and hopefully with a smoke. Maybe even a couple coins from the woman's purse or satchel, if she had one near or on hip.

Xiang watches as the rogue makes his way towards Morana, and smirks, staying right where he is and ordering himself a drink.

Roytoc slowly reached into his cloak, he was having an overwhelming urge to drink something, he was feeling hot and he needed to drink to get the whisperings and images out of his head. Since Roy's cloak was magical and it could hold and overabundance of things, all he had to do to fetch things was think about them and reach in the pockets, but nothing was there. Then he recalled that he had given his flask to Aritriel, because he had decided to quit drinking, he frowned and ground his teeth together, tonight was going to be a bad night.

Morana removes the cigarette from betwixt her pale lips as her icy gaze lazily falls upon the rogue. Quirking a fanged grin, she raises a snowy brow, interested in what he was playing at. Crossing her legs at the knee, she leans in closer to him, allowing the sweet smoke to slip from between her lips. "Which one," She pauses and smirks, "Darling?" When he takes the one she makes to place between her lips once more, she can't help but laugh, a chillingly sharp timbre to it. "Enjoy the chill." Indicating where her cold lips had been only moments before.

Leodarkheart nods, confirming LeoX's direction. Leo heads towards the door. Nodding, to Eilyo a thanks for her concern. Leo tosses a small bag of gold towards Mesthak and Nancy, "Stop your whining, should cover the table and whatever else seems to pain you at the moment."

Leoxander lingered long enough to relight her another before he snapped that tin lid closed on the outside of his leg. "Tastes like death." He flirted, in grim ways, before an eye twitched with a vague wink, and he pushed away from the bar, ignoring the chubby finger Mesthak saluted his way. He might have even stayed, but this was Leoxander, someone who would not be in a tavern to socialize with the fairer gender. Business lured him, gold more importantly, and with a glance at what Leo'D had to spare to the owner and his maid, he headed for the door in his target's wake, casually palming what he'd pick pocketed from the bar while his fire-starter returned to back pocket.

Leodarkheart waits outside for LeoX to exit. He waits idly by concocting a plan in his head as he waits. Once LeoX come outside Leo looks around so as too make sure of his surroundings in case things get a tad hairy. No need in anyone else getting hurt. "I can get you your gold, but I have a question. How would you like to make a bit more?"

Leoxander only hurt if he had to. But gold wouldn't come from a dead man, and truthfully, he had no qualms with his target. So it was that the rogue looked unsuspicious and calm as he exited that tavern with one of Morana's cigarettes pinched between thumb and fingers, a drag taken and tasted before he exhaled into the colder outside air. Casual steps marked his approach and Leo came to lean on a convenient sign post or railing. "I'd never turn down another handful, mate, but you're already becoming a pain in my ass, with your dramatics in there." That hand motioned toward the tavern before he took another breath of smoke into his lungs, and exhaled as he spoke, some of those wispy tendrils seeping from canine sharp teeth that edged the corners, longer than a human's should be, like a wolf bite. "My price is set for your friend. What'dya have in mind?"

Leodarkheart grins, "Your price is set, that is good. Seems gold is your addiction. The price, I am sure that it is for her to be in a living breathing state. Can you assure me of this?" Leo wanted to make sure his gold would not produce a corpse. "Give me that much for free, and as far as more gold. I want to know who was behind this. What is your price on that? What amount of gold would it take for me to find out who it was that enacted such a terrible course of action. Trinsa, to the best of my knowledge, has brought no harm or trouble to anyone. I want to know who is to blame, it seems the gold is your main objective and bringing the news to me about it. Name your price."

Morana had just finished her drink and smoke, and when she found the company of an antsy drow and an overly confident, but nothing to back such an attitude smith was not worth spending any more time in the tavern. So with the jaguar close behind her, she had stepped back out into the cool, evening air. What she had not expected was the two from earlier, talking over gold. She enjoyed a spare few coins, but not enough to have it be the driving force behind her decisions, so she slips quietly past them, and makes as if she might head out.

Leoxander enjoyed that cigarette while Leo'D spoke, and it wasn't until he'd said everything he had to say that the rogue decided to answer him between drags. "You ain't dealin' with idiots here. They didn't take her to bloody kill her if they want what's in your pockets." Hopefully that was reassurance enough - business was business, even of a darker kind. "Call it eighty and I'll bring you a name. A hundred, and I'll bring you a new friend with your old one." The wolfish grin that touched in might indicate he meant no friend at all, but a body, a face to put with that title, in the flesh. He'd give the vampire a moment to consider this offer while he flicked what was left of that smoke into the street.

Leo cast a shameless look at the backside of the female walking past.

Morana glances over her shoulder, and offers a cold, grin, fangs bared, to the staring pair of eyes.

Leo caught the look and let it stick just a moment before his eyes drifted back to Leo'D, that mess of sun bleached hair still in the way.

Leodarkheart laugsh as he watches the exchange between the two. "I will pay for the information and the return of Trinsa, the other though. Twenty for the price of another, seems a little low. I am not a bleeding heart, let them stay where they are. I want to look the person in the eye that brought this problem to be. I will deal with them in my own way. Bring her to me personally, that should conclude our business wouldn't you say?"

Leoxander perhaps proved how little he cared by keeping his price so low. However, he did not seem entirely disappointed for the decline - it would have been another hassle keeping him from his fix. "Your call, mate. None of my damn concern, but I'ma need that coin to get your date. You can meet us and I'll have a name for you." Standing more upright, he nudged his jaw back toward the tavern again to point out. "I'll send word here, so you can go back to your drink and jus' sit pretty while I get your package." He wasn't going to risk ambush on Darkheart's call. Brushing off the stench of Kelay from his shirt, he'd wait, for proper pouches and bags to be found and handed over so the thief could determine it a proper weight.

Morana snickers under her breath as she finds a choice tree to lean against and listen still.

Leodarkheart nodded, "Fair enough, but am I to trust you to take the gold and perhaps not return. No, may have a bit of gold, but I got it by not being stupid. Bring the girl and I will hand over the gold. Besides, I never carry that amount on me anyway. Be a damned fool to." Leo crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, "This pretty enough for you? Now go bring me back my prize."

He crossed his arms over his chest to give Leo'D a flat look. "And... these people that have 'er. The ones who the gold's for..." He spoke slowly, because it seemed the vampire was not understanding the situation entirely. He was a courier in this situation. One who made the deliveries. It wasn't him asking for that total profit in the first place. "I suppose they're just gonna go on your word that you'll pay me? Whatever mate, your friend can die then. I'm done wasting my time with this..." It seemed that he truly was, because Darkheart's opportunity to get her back was walking away from him, seemingly to leave. As if he was about to take demands from people who needed -him-.

Morana glances over to the vampire, tempted to make a quip about taking opportunity by the balls, but decided not to insult the side of this conversation she liked.

Leodarkheart laughed, "Then it seems we are in a stalemate. I am not going to trust you with the gold and it sounds as if your not gonna take me on my word that'll I'll pay you." Leo looked around to the girl that had been here throughout most of the hashing of gold, and what all it was for. "Very well then, take the gold. If business is all this is to you then it should be safe enough. There should be no worry, you are just the one tasked with finalizing the exchange so it seems. I will pay you the gold to get her, and will pay you the other 5 thousand when you return with her. Does that meet to your approval?" Leo thought to himself that he should really get to know this fellow, what things could be accomplished with the simple tossing of coin at them.

Leo'X didn't stop walking when the man laughed. He was still walking away when the vampire changed his mind, for the sake of his friend, and that was when the rogue would stop, glance back, giving another dull look. He did not seem very happy about having those extra five minutes of his time wasted. A thoughtful look crossed masked features and Leo would reach up to untie that knot, drawing black fabric from his unshaven complexion, those circles dark under his eyes. He'd approach the other, take a breath, and speak low. "I'ma cut you some slack this time, because I get you've had a helluva week. But you keep wastin' my seconds like this an' you and I aren't gonna get along very well at all. Do I look like a man who would lie?" Trick question, perhaps, and Leo allowed a faint, false grin to interrupt any answer Leo'D might have. "You give me the gold, I get you the girl, otherwise I leave your ass here to figure out how else you're going to save hers." This was the last time he'd put the offer on the table and be in reach, in range, to hand over the wealth. The patience had died from those mismatched eyes. "I'll be back for the rest with her, but since you're gonna try to piss me off, now it's seven for the name, ya dig?" He'd wait there, just a moment longer, to see if this business could be finalized. Otherwise, the pirate looked damn well ready to be on his way.

Leoxander would note that Leo'D was the first to reveal gender, so he gives away nothing with this.

Morana snickers, finally deciding to comment. "Take the deal." She recognized the pirate from the Inn, and knew well enough about his reputation from the Runner as well.

Leodarkheart pulls a piece of parchment from his pack along with a feather pen. He fills out the necessary information and ties it to the leg of his falcon. "To the bank, Absinthe." Leo says, though the verbal is more for the onlookers then anything. Leo was to communicate with the falcon, a mental bond established by a long dead friend. "Go to the bank in Cenril, you will be given the gold. You have nothing to worry about, seems that is your only interest and you may be less then a favorable bloke, but a semi-honest one as well." Leo's words were true enough he had just hoped that LeoX would find them to be. He was ready as his counterpart to be finished with this affair. "Does this meet to your satisfaction?"

Leo answered by giving Leo Darkheart a good natured if firm lycanthrope thump upside the arm. "That's more like it, mate. Don't worry, we'll get your woman back. Likely in one piece." That last effect just to sting a little evil worry into the back of the man's mind, price for wasting Leo'X's time. "I'll send word an' see you around. You know the drill... things to see... people to do." And with never a weapon drawn, the criminal would seek to depart and head for Cenril, to either see the vampire's word kept or deal with the guards who would be there to try to take him. Either way, it was proving an interesting night.

Next Day, At The Strange Abode

Trinsa stirred on the cot as she checked the ties that not only pinned her down but kept her hands together and her ankles paired. She groaned. When was the last time she had stood, meal time, she thought, but how long ago was that. Those drugs left little sense of time, thus making the long episodes feel short and fuzzy to the memory. She laid there, stirring now and then, listening for signs of others before trying her tongue, "Hello?"

Mahri sits in that chair again, the guards left behind to watch the woman so Urghdak could return to the Corpse so no one got overly suspicious. The whisper of well worn leather sounds as she shifts and tries to cross one leg over the other. Being pregnant makes that a bit of a challenge. "Stop tryin' t' be gettin' free, girly. Ain't gonna do no good." It's the first time she's spoken.

Trinsa twisted her hooded head around toward the location of the voice that warned her of her status. She had heard it before somewhere, another day, weeks ago maybe. She had no idea, nor remembered who owned that voice. Yet, it did not seem right, like it did not match the memory of it that she had. "Can I have some water?" the elf asked timidly, pulling up whatever slack she could so her legs could bend, if only a little.

Mahri narrows her eyes at the hooded and bound guest before she nods to one of the guards who gets a pitcher and glass to pour the water. Mahri's water. He'll ease an arm under her neck to ease the elf's head up and the lip of the glass is put to her mouth. Trinsa better drink fast because that guard is not going to be patient and wait for her to sip. Instead he'll likely try to pour it down her throat.

Trinsa felt the hands of a guard maneuvering her, thinking them to be Mahri's. With her head covered, there's no way to know for sure. The hood comes up, she can feel the glass and at first she does expect to sip but then the whole thing goes splashing on her face. The elf gulps as fast as she can, trying hard not to cough and sputter as it is being poured at her face. When it's gone, she does follow her instincts, setting the liquid out of her lungs in a horrible fit. At least the drink was not through the hood, she thought. Then she tried to remember bits of conversation she heard through what seemed like dreams. Finally, since someone does seem to be responding to her, she asks, "Where am I?"

Mahri waits until sufficient water is expelled from Trinsa's lungs and the guard checks the bonds on wrists and ankles before answering. They will of course, be tightened as needed. "Some'er safe if ye don' make t' much of a fuss."

Trinsa felt the ropes become snug once more and defeat paired with dispare were reminded and emphasized by those tugs as they happened. Not much of an answer, but she tried another, "What do you want from me?" Thinking it sort of a dumb question after asking it. If they wanted something from her, they wouldn't treat her so much as a blanket laying on a cot. The would beat her, ask her questions, pull her nails, pluck out her eye lashes, and cut her. Wicked things would be done, not lay around all day with the company of her mind swimming in enhanced reality. "I cannot do anything... not well anyway, just maybe make a sweater? Some pants? You wear pants don't you? a skirt maybe?"

Mahri blinks. Several times. "Don' need nut'in' from ye, Elf." The statement of her race is spat out like it leaves a bad taste in the wolf's mouth. "Ye bes' be 'opin' t'at ye be important enough t' people t'at t'ey'd pay t' 'ave ye back."

Trinsa found her brows furrowing, first at the speach pattern, then the words that it pronounced. Dealing with Ranok helped, as Mahri's accent thickened with this particular statement. "Pay to have me?" Who would want to do that. Nevermind the inlayed cursing at her race, this is what caught her attention and gave her something to mull over. "But I'm a nobody." she mumbled to the shroud. This fresh concern builded on her already dire mindset, drawing sniffles from under the black cloth. Trinsa really could not see the importance of her, of all people being taken but maybe there is more to it. Maybe she is not the target, just the one that happened to be snatched. This makes the most sense to her, thinking maybe the woman was using her as a represenative of something, but of what exactly. Mary came to mind, Oh no! Mary! shoved to the forefront. The gloves! Trinsa remembered the secrecy those gloves of ten were made with. No, that couldn't be right either or else they would be trying to get information out of her about them. A long time continued as she ran senerios around her head, but finally it boiled down to another. Leo With the vampire's sorted history, perhaps someone has come back to cause him grief. This is what she settled on for the reason and who might possibly have enough gold to be bothered for paying anything. Certainly no one else was remotely rich, except Gwenilyn. Did this have something to do with her and her baby? Trinsa's sniffles worsened.

Jolie would be heard clumping up the stairs, a few quiet words exchanged with somebody in the raspy voice only worsened by her recent 'accident’.

Mahri is almost going to answer, Trinsa. She doesn't instead falling silent once more as the sound of voices reaches her ears.

Jolie was carrying a heavy pack, the one she'd filled at the Corpse with food and bottles, an extra blanket. The handle of it snared on a bit of broken railing, and she'd pause there, halfway up, to untangle it.

Trinsa seems confused by the lack of answers. Was the other not supposed to talk to her? She could hear another bumping about. "Hello?" sounding a little scared, "Y-you didn't leave... did you?" interpreting the sounds as such.

Mahri didn't leave but she still won't speak. Instead she'll get up from her chair which Trinsa would know by the sound of it creaking..beng relieved of her weight and all. From that side table, she checks the contents of the vial left. A bit left yet. The bottom of the hood is raised just above Trinsa's mouth and more of that liquid is poured on the elf's throat. Mahri was really beginning to dislike that race.

Trinsa knew what was going on by now and gave little fight, almost welcoming the escape of the solution's affects. The last coharent thought she had is that there are two present. One on the stairs, and one at her throat which is the one she spoke to. The elf laid back, waiting for the lights in the blackness of her eyelids to start dancing and forming shapes.

Jolie finally tugged that bag free, and made it the rest of the way up the stairs without incident. She wore a scowl nad a lot of leather that would creak faintly as she opened the door to that one useful room in this rotting mansion, and stepped in. A glance was offered thier 'guest', and she looked to Mahri with a raised a brow that might indicate the question, "Any news?"

Mahri jerks down the bottom of the hood the moment Trinsa appeared to succumb to the affects of the elixir. "No. Not a damn thing. You sure ~he~ did what he implied he would?" Jolie would know the ~he~ she was talking about. With an exasperated breath blown out from pursed lips, the wolf removes herself from the vicinity of the drugged elf to stand nearer her sister. The accent is gone now, what with their guest in a mind altered state. She won't remember hearing her speak any other way but with the accent. She hoped.

Jolie only shrugged, to say she didn't have any sort of clue at this present time, having not been contacted about that particular issue. She dropped the bag carefully to the floor. "Supplies." In it was a new vial of the drug, food and other items. The one thing she did remove was a blindfold. "She's gotta eat. Put that over the hood, if you need to use it, make sure she stays in the dark when she eats."

Trinsa seemed to be drawn by that word "eat" and turned her head for it, "Turnips glow under the sun." as if that was something important. "... and the sun glows under the moon, and that other moon, and if a schoolboy wants to, that moon too." She had been watered recently, but with the new dose of medication, she could only tell that Mahri's voice sounded like two, she is magical and smells of butterflies.

Malcolm and his men had been hired by Jolie to look for suspicious activity. So when he saw the woman's bouncer wandering about the residential street while he was riding back to the stables he judged this suspicious enough to warrant investigation. He was a thorough man, and also bored. The burly mercenary swung down from the saddle outside the strange little house, swiped a hand through slightly overgrown hair in an attempt to look more professional without a barber, and walked to the door. Those inside would hear a loud knock.

Mahri reaches to snag the blindfold and put it next to the near empty vial on the table. "Turnips..moons? Oh hell. What's in that stuff?" About then there is a knock and Mahri blinks at Jolie, "Expectin' someone?"

Jolie shook her head. Knowing Urghdak would be the one to answer that door, and expecting maybe some word on the ransom, she headed for the stairs. Moments later, she gestured for Trollson to stay close, while the necromancer unlocked and swung the door open a crack. One green eye peered out, at Malcolm. "Oh." she said. "Hello," not opening it any further.

Malcolm stiffened. Damn it. Her? Here? "Miss... I apologize." The bearded man glanced back at his horse. "I saw one of your men come out of this building. You told me to keep an eye out for suspicious activities in light of the attempt, so..." He turned back to her. This was incredibly awkward. "Should I go?"

Mahri lets out a hiss and, rather than use the blindfold for a blindfold, she quickly shoves it into Trinsa's mouth as a gag. All balled up and everything. Just in case. She'll not be far behind Jolie and Trollson.

Jolie swung the door open, peering out. "Get your horse around back..." it was a low mutter, irritated. "Hurry. Trollson will let you in." The door shut, and she turned to Mahri. "Crap."

Mahri said to you, "Who was that? Your Friendly Neighborhood Welcoming Committee?"

Jolie said, "The Sheriff." Her tone was droll. "... dammit. If -he- spotted us..." she left the rest unspoken. "I suppose it shows he's doing his job."

Trinsa felt her eyes widen in the hood that covered her when the blindfold was roughly shoved past her teeth and half down her throat. She gagged a little, trying furiously to remove the rag, but then, someone did mention food and it is in her mouth... Trinsa tried to maneuver her tongue to push out that wad of cloth. It took a minute, but a portion of it left her so that she could chew on the material. "Mmm." Approving of the dinner and none the wiser as to not eat it, this is how Trinsa added fiber to her weight loss plan.

Mahri hmms at that and eyes the door. "Too well, me thinks. Can he be paid off..?" It's only a thought mused aloud.

Malcolm turned crisply on his heel, took the reins of the horse and led him around the back. There was a curse on his lips, and a hand on his sword. Hired one day, and now they'd likely attempt to kill him for seeing a secret. Wouldn't that be lovely? He hoped the pregnant lady wasn't in there. That could prove... unpleasant, cutting his way out through her. He waited by the back door.

Jolie heard noises round the back. "Let him in, Mah. Urghdak, board that back door upn. Nobody draw a knife."

Mark followed silently at a distance behind Jolie. His apparel matched the darkness that enshrouded the area and to the unobservant, and perhaps to the mistress herself, it would seem that Jolie was traveling alone. Mark halted at the bottom of a set of stairs as Jolie was just finishing her ascension. The destination was a notably strange house, it was distorted, twisted, impressive. Mark's eyes were as still as his body as he watched Jolie out of peripherals. When the woman had entered the build, dull emerald hues emitted a faint glow from underneath the ebony hood that hid them. The colors of the surroundings distorted, turning a faint green. Inside the structure, three beings were present, each of their bodies contained a faint red glow in a net of white threads. The closest was Jolie, the white threads on her legs grew at the hips and knees as she walked, the door behind her was already beginning to shut. It took little effort as Mark concentrated, the door's movement slowed, almost to a stop. He could feel the energy build inside of him, like adrenaline, a rush. His destination was the door, but as he was about to make his leap, what seemed to be a distorted crashing sound caused him to halt, the glow from underneath his hood dimmed into darkness. The color of the surrounding returned and the distorted sound hastened into the clear sound of a horse's trotting. As a horse and its rider came halted before the structure, Mark noted its rider as the man seen within the Hanging Corpse Tavern a few nights ago. Mark maintained his statuesque demeanor as the man walked by to knock upon the door to the structure. Jolie answered, an exchange of words, and the man walked by once more to bring his horse around back. As the man turned around the corner, Mark followed in silence…

Mahri just stares at Jolie a moment before turning on her heel and going to the back door. It won't be Urghdak opening as the sheriff might expect but that pregnant lady from the Corpse. And she doesn't look too happy. Not one bit. "C'm in." A silvery gaze drifts to the hand upon hilt and she'll say casual as you please, "Draw that thing and it'll be the last bloody thing you do." See? She is so not a lady. Far. From.

Jolie kindly left Mahri to deal with the Sheriff, and possibly Mark as well, though she had no idea the man was there. "Checking on the guest," she muttered, and headed for the stairs again.

Malcolm looked up to see... the pregnant woman. Lovely! He wondered if he could cut her sword arm off without harming the babe, if it came to that. Maybe. Blue eyes narrowed after her threat. "I am here because Miss Thorne asked me to keep an eye out. If you attack me for doing my job well, I'll..." His eyes dipped to her belly. "I'll be as careful as I can be, but can guarantee you nothing. At least have your thugs attack me in your stead. Madam." She'd yet to prove herself otherwise.

Jolie wasn't long in opening that upper door, and would suck in a hissed breath, seeing the prisoner managed to .. feed herself. The elf needed constant guarding, this was plain. Where the hell was the captain?

Mahri 'll narrow her eyes at the man and not once notice Mark although she might ask, "Are you alone?" Simply because it's either one of those questions one should ask or she smelled something on the breeze. Where Malcolm left his horse was his business but Mahri will leave that back door open and march back to the foot of the stairs. Where she'll stay. "And close the door behind you!"

Malcolm said, "Yes, I'm alone." And he'd close the door shut directly behind him before following Mahri to the steps, hands clasped behind his back. Perhaps she wouldn't make an attempt on his life after all. "Not unless you count the horse. I apologize for the intrusion... I may be too attentive to my work."

As the back door opened to allow the man inside, Mark followed in pursuit. Creaking as the door shut, but no sound to indicate it had done so. He captures the door just inches from closing and takes great care in pushing it open such that there'd be an entrance just wide enough for Mark to slip through before closing it in silence behind him. Had they not already noticed him, Mahri and Malcom would find a figure cloaked in black standing just in front of the door behind them should they look back.

Trinsa is enjoying her handkerchief even though it provided little nurtritional value. Her head was to one side, her jaw bobbing in tune. It was something like watching a begger try to eat a bit of leather from his shoe. Every now and then, contented sounds, a little mumbling that might translate to her thanking Ranger Rick for the crow or some such thing. Anyway, aside from these slight things, she is keeping quiet, mostly, probably.

Jolie groaned faintly. Really, they had to give the woman a decent meal once she came round enough not to choke on it. But at least she wasn't causing trouble. Once more, she headed for the stairs, pausing a few steps from the bottom - since Mahri was in the way, and all.

Jolie cast her gaze across.. the group. Particularly the hooded figure.

Mahri is there so Malcolm won't go up, not so Jolie can't come down (because go down just read wrong). Shifting aside, she leaves enough space for her sister to descend. "Yeah. Intrusion. Ain't much o' one." A nostril twitches, "Sure yer alone?" She is one suspicious bitch. And with reason.

Jolie said, "Who's that?" Her tone would be sharp, the knife already drawn from the sheath at her side. "

Mahri is apparently not seeing something Jolie can? Maybe because that fatheaded Malcolm is in the way. Right.

Malcolm 's hand was immediately back upon his scabard, once he saw Mark appear from the corner of his eye. He did not recognize the man, not in those robes at least. He drew the blade several inches from the scabbard, stepped between him and the pregnant lady as if he belonged there, and growled his words. "State your business."

Mahri is going to start wondering why the hell everyone is so intent on treating her like she'll break. Jolie. Rhocielle..and now the bloody bastard of a sheriff. "Oh for the Gods' sake," she mutters and folds her arms. Let Malcolm get run through then. She didn't mind a meat-shield at all.

Mark simply watched as another figure came into view, Jolie. It seemed as though she was the first to notice him, only then would the man he'd followed turn about and attempt to confront him, but Mark remained silent for a few moments, mentally daring the man to draw his blade against him, before replying, "You'd best ask the mistress for your answer…" Only his lips moved as he spoke.

Jolie knew that voice. "Stand down," she said to Malcolm, having noted how quickly the man was to handle his blade. "He works for me." She took that gap Mahri'd left then, and stepped down into the room. How many were going to track them here? Her frown was monumental. "…business needs to end, and soon."

Malcolm blinked. "The mistress?"

Malcolm looked up to Jolie. He hadn't heard her called such before. "Very well." He slammed the blade back completely within the scabbard with greater force than was needed, and gave the hooded man a hard look.

As Jolie descended down into the room, Mark bowed to her with his usual apathetic greeting, "Miss Jolie."

Trinsa had worked her blindfold out of her mouth and it serendipitously fell from her lips. How she managed not to swallow was anyone's wonder as the corner was shredded from her teeth grinding on the fibers. With nothing else to do, she just sort of sat there. Voices where here and there and new ones too, but did she really register to call for help, nay, the elf just hummed to herself, while her mind imagined words for her songs and she told herself a story... off key as could be.

Mahri is just going to huff. Malcolm might feel her breath on the back of his neck. "Ye mind?" A finger tap-jabbed his shoulder since he was still standing there. In front of her. Damn meat shields didn't know when they weren't needed anymore.

Jolie said, "Mark." She addressed Malcolm next. "Good job. Finding us, I mean." The sineater was visibly nervy, heels ticking on the boards as she paced the room."

Malcolm looked over his shoulder when he felt breath--it sent the hairs on the back of his neck straight up--and a tap on his shoulder. He let a single brow inch upward. "Madam." He turned smoothly enough for her to pass by. To Jolie he'd say, simply, "My men are at your disposal, if you need more of a guard."

Jolie glanced to the door, almost as though expecting a troop of angry healers to pour through any moment. "Maybe I'll need it." She was muttering a lot, today.

Mahri has to wonder as she simply stares at Malcolm if he has any idea what he's guarding. Besides. She isn't moving. He is. "Don't call me that. I don't run a whore house. My name is Mahri. M-A-H-R-I. Incase ye need to know how to spell it to say it."

Mahri said to you, "Might need to send that message. Again."

Malcolm ::"I can fetch them as soon as you--" But Mahri was yelling at him. In an accent. He was smiling before he realized himself. "They call themselves that because it makes them sound respectable. I don't know why my respecting you is offensive."

Mark bowed his head respectfully to Mahri, the woman whom Jolie had called sister last he met her, "Miss Mahri..." He extended to her a greeting similar to the one he'd priorly offered to Jolie. Mark then spoke to Jolie once more, "Is there something troubling you, Miss Jolie…?" He'd noticed the glances at the door and the nervous pacing.

Jolie shook her head. "I hired the best." Though her brow furrowed further. She had not missed those bruises... telltale. But said, as if convincing herself, "He'll do the job right."

Jolie said to Mark, "No. Not yet. Just... wanting this job to be done with. Too risky." The necromancer didn't ask him how he'd found her, the pale man had.. his ways. She sort of understood that. "

Mahri looks at Jolie. Not convinced in the least. Malcolm she ignores. To Mark the woman says, "Not Miss Mahri. Just Mahri.." but she thinks that'll be as much a losing battle as with Malcolm. Back to Jolie, the wolf adds to the unconvinced look, "Have you ~seen~ him lately?" Moody. Aggressive..

Malcolm coughed.

Mahri is used to Jolie's pacing and whatnot by now. And besides questioning never got a satisfactory answer.

Jolie nodded. Perhaps her expression would inform her sister of how that event had panned out. Another hiss of frustration, and she took up pacing again.

Mahri glances up the stairs, sure that the guard left inside that refurbished room would send a runner if anything needed attention. "I need a damn drink."

Mahri will speak to Jolie later. Concerning that look.

Mark did not question the mistress further, she'd tell him what was required of him in time. When Mahri spoke of a 'drink', Mark spoke, "I may be able to provide the provisions you require Miss Mahri, but I don't believe the consumption of alcohol is wise in you condition…"

Malcolm said to Mark, "I'd assume she knows that."

Mahri snaps, "No sh---kidding. I'm well aware of that. Quit bloody smoking too and if ye wanna see a really really cranky woman, ye go on an' tell me what else I can't do." It was a dare more than a challenge. Really, this hormonal thing was getting out of hand.

Mahri said to Malcolm, "Shut up."

Mark seems not to acknowledge the man, but to Mahri he simply replies, "Apologies..."

Jolie's turn to snap. "Mahri." her tone soothed a little as she went on. "Perhaps.. you could see to the guest. Put your feet up." Have the damn kid already. "Or.. sit here." She waved toward a sofa that looked as if rats might live in it. "You sound tired."

Mahri looks slowly at Jolie, the only person she might ever in her life, other than Senka, ever back down from. "I'm goin' home. Ain't no sleep to be had here." Home. The Corpse or Rynvale? Whichever she could get to before passing out first.

Jolie said to Mahri, "Make sure it's rest you get." Her look was very pointed. "Real rest. No... shenanigans. Feet up, eyes closed."

When there is mention of Mahri leaving, Mark's hand moves to the doorknob behind him, ready to open it for her should she choose to leave via the back door.

Malcolm looked back blankly at Mahri. "I was..." He didn't continue.

Mahri just shrugs noncommittally as she brushes past Malcolm. "Yeah. Rest." Or catching up on paperwork. She could put her feet up for that. Right? Nodding her thanks to Mark, the wolf disappears out the back. The horse out there shies away with a toss of his head, the whites of his eyes beginning to show the closer she got. "Oh. Stuff it, ye damn beast."

Jolie took a seat on the very corner of that moldy-looking sofa and chewed her thumbnail.

The door was shut silently behind Mahri and Mark stood once more as sentinel before it. Mark was silent, he expected the mistress to relay instruction at one time or another. Even when Jolie wandered off to take a seat, Mark could still watch her out of his peripherals, but he had not need to... the man had the highest chance of being a compromise here...

Malcolm , after Mahri left, and after Mark took up his sentry, turned and walked toward Jolie's seat. "What's the nature of the... business, here? Do you need help moving it?"

Jolie said to Mark, "I need you here, a while." Her lantern-green gaze shone faintly in the gloom. "A man will come, blond, scruffy looking. In leather. He has money for me. Tell him I said - "Cherry blossoms" - and he'll know you're working for me. Hold the money, until my return. Fifty thousand gold." She added, "Not a penny less."

Jolie said to Malcolm, "Actually, yes. The uh.. cargo in exchange for this gold needs handling. I think you might be right for that job. I'll speak to you further on it, once I have the payment."

Mark said to Jolie, "As you wish, Miss Jolie..."

Later That Night, Hanging Corpse, Vailkrin

Ranok strolls into the Hanging Corpse, carrying a bound and tied man over his shoulder. The man is unconscious, and seems to be missing fingers. His face is hooded, presumably to avoid further struggle, as one can barely fight what they can't see. The bound man is carried in a simple fireman's carry, over the shoulder, something that Ranok accomplishes with ease. And this is how Ranok enters. Like he wasn't carrying a man on his shoulder, but on a Sunday stroll.

Voices... darkness. Temptations of a bitter life long gone, stirring... Oh, how the man Ranok carried missed his old wretched days sometimes. His life stolen by the eye... no, saved. He was SOMETHING now, he was someone... he had a purpose, to serve a god-being, and deliver the world into his hands. Hands... his whole body was numb, his breath coming back at him in heated plumes, moisture thick on his face. Where... what... he had attacked a man at the inn, had seen a great gust of icy winds, and then... nothing. Woke up here. He couldn't move... he wriggled a bit, struggling feebly against his restraints, searching with his hands to... but, he couldn't feel anything... his fingers, they were there right? But he couldn't feel them... he tried to flex them, and... nothing. By the eye... He let out a muffled groan as he realized the situation he was in, a few moments of lucidity his torment before the curse took him once more. He prayed the Eye would see fit to deliver him a swift death.

Jolie hardly gave Ranok a second look. These were the Dark Lands, and a seat at the end of her bar was often occupied by Colton Black, all of which renders one somewhat immune to hints of violence. "Ranok.." was her greeting. "Can I get you something?"

Ranok clonks the cultist on the head again, "Dem, hyu're a persistent vun, hain't hyu? SCHtay DOWN." He glances up at Jolie, "No, no. Qvite fine, really. Hef a vaterskin. Chust here to do dat qvestionink ve discussed earlier." His tone is perfectly conversational. No hints of furtiveness, or guilt. Just, as mentioned, like he was carrying a basket of fruit for orphan children rather then a bound man who had, not too long before, done his level best to kill him.

Jolie said, "Ah..." She waved him toward a table, snagging a bottle on her way past the shelves before makign her own way over. Ranok's burden was given a brief once-over, but the Hanging Corpse was not the sort of place where one did well to ask questions, and she kept with that tradition now. Sliding into a chair, she said, "So. I think I'd like some harpoons and things." A little smile curled her lips. "On the roof."

Nymh :: Sinnea wandered up to the entrance of the Hanging Corpse... she had been following the last survivor of the group that had taken Nymh... she did not know what else to do. As destroyed as her mind was, her understanding of events around her was vague at best... she saw things as almost asleep, catching blurred hints in her periphery before her mind left her. The giant man carried the man, and she watched him thunk the captive on the head and talk to a woman in the tavern... this place made her lightheaded, giddy, this whole land.. whilst following the man and the captive she had several times wandered off, forgetting where she was, feeling like all she wanted to do was sleep in the darkness and black energy... only her need of Nymh, a vague buzzing in the back of her head, urged her onward, some nearly palpable force goading her towards her goal when she went astray. She flittered silently into the tavern to observe, taking comfort in the nonchalant tones the people where using. Tones that said everything is normal, everything is fine... she may not understand their words, but their calm helped keep her calm.

Ranok doesn't move, "Vait, vat? Hyu vant...hokay, vun tink at a time. Hyu don' get to pick ven hyu ask me for ideas und designs. Especially not ven Hy kome to hyu vith business first."

Jolie observed the entrance of the small being, with only a light frown for greeting. Several of the patrons might assume she was a light snack. Her concern ending there, the necromancer returned her attention to Ranok. "I need harpoons," she insisted. "On the roof. And what business?" The cork in her bottle was not being obliging, so she used her teeth to tug it free.

Ranok still holds the man on his shoulder, no indication that the weight was dragging on him. He gives Jolie a blank look, "Hyu...don' remember. In Kelay. Hy made mention uf dis. Hy hed a man Hy vanted to qvestion magically. Hyu agreed. Rinkink henny bells...?"

Jolie 's mouth made a small 'o', and she shook her head slowly. "I... uh." She rested her gaze on her bottle. "Yes. Of course I remember. But I.. wouldn't mind a little refresher." A glance then, to Nymh. "Is that... the man? There?" She scrunched her nose, doubtful as to whether 'man' was an apt term for the creature.

Sinnea swiftly dodged when a patron idly swatted at her, mistaking her for a bug... her tail drawing a tiny portion of blood for the effort on her way by. She took shelter higher up, watching the talking pair with heavy lids, drunk on the dark energies... The bone vertebrae tail in her mouth quite suddenly, as she suckled the blood off the tip... it tasted old, dead. She suckled it anyway, her rotting wings around her, tattered white gown barely covering her tiny form.

Ranok drops the man he had been carrying on his shoulder onto the floor, with a heavy thunk. It'd probably hurt, but it wasn't Ranok being manhandled, "No idea vo hyu're referrink to. De guy Hy vas karryink iz de vun Hy vant to qvestion. No, Hy don' karry hogtied hostages around vith me for fun, Jolie. Surprisink, no?"

The hostage groans.

Jolie said, "Hostages...?" Her blank expression as she studied the man on the floor turned to another small smile, and she did not look at Ranok when she went on, "Doesn't really seem quite... up your alley, so to speak. Hostages, I mean. What's this about, then? And.. why are you in need of -magical- methods? He has a perfectly good set of fingernails, doesn't he?" She peered, as if to check. "You could start with those - they usually end up squealing like piglets before you get one hand's worth extracted."

Ranok kneels next to the man, "Kouple tinks. First uff, no finkernails. Lost de hends to frostbite. Not dat he needed dem. Second. Dis man iz dead. He chust doesn' know it yet. His life ended in de tavern, ven he vas frozen. Right now, he vill supply information to me about De Eye." He checks that all his knots to make sure they're in order, "SCHtundard interrogation meddods don' really tend to vork. In schtories, dey're eksellent. Torture ALVAYS vorks. Not so much in reality. Gets to a point vere a man vill admit to killink tousunds chust to make de pain schtop. Hit or miss." He grunts when he sees all knots are indeed tight, "So. Not a hostage, really. More like. Hm. Ansver sheet? Oh, Hy don' know. A kultist vo tried to kill pipple, myself included, und lost. Like Hy saeed; dead man valkink. Or in dis kase, tied." He stands, dusting off his hands, "Hyu heng out vith dat Black fellow. Hy really don' tink hyu ought to be makink judgement kalls on motivations, eh? Truth iz, Hy'm eksploitink a technicality. Most magical means uf information gadderink are non invasiff. Or non leddel. Probably. Oh, yeah, Hy kould take de pliers to him. Or Hy kould flay his mind to destroy his personality to hervest de information. But ve'll try zumddink a liddle different, first."

The man in the bag screams and thrashes, ignoring the sharp pains his protestations create in his body... He was a dead man anyway, as the large fellow had said. He would stir up his aggression, stir up his fervor, and the Eye would let him lose himself in blood hazed rage, until he expired. A better way to go, surely. He thrashed wildly, not making any progress against the restraints, trying his best to at least swing his numb legs like clubs on the ground to kick the man... more likely than not just bumping into him in an irritating fashion.

Jolie hmm'd softly, studying the bagged man with that frown perched on her brow. "No hands.. well. We don't need those if...." And the captive's struggles knocked her bottle over, which landed on the stone floor with a loud crash and splintering of glass. Her frown deepened and she stood, "Ranok. My interrogation methods are -very- effective."

Jolie said, "But they are far better, when the subject is dead."

Ranok kneels on the man's back. His massive size and weight would subdue any struggle. A hand on the back of the captive man's head to seal the deal, the tied man's head pressed against the floor, "Chust HOW effectiff? Do hyu hef hennyddink before ve trow hall uf my kards into a fire und hope dey don' burn?"

The man struggles mightily against his captor, but in his condition, and considering the bulk above him ,with an easy point of leverage... he gets nowhere fast.

Jolie rolled her eyes at Ranok. "You've not yet learned not to doubt me." She drew a knife from the sheath at her waist, while the hostage failed to struggle much under Ranok's weight. Her green gaze sharp on the bagged man, the necromancer raised the dagger - a horrible, curved affair of black steel and jagged edges - and plunged it into the sack, again and again, so that soon the man ceased struggling altogether and the sack was stained dark and red in splotches, torn in places with raggy holes that exposed the wounds on the body within. Blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face with a huff of breath, the strand lifting and dropping back into place, she cast a narrow glance to the darker recesses of the tavern, "The Haruspex," she said, "Will tell you what need to know." Then she grinned, and called, "Leifong!"

Jolie pressed a palm to the blood-smirched floor and raised herself to stand again. Her knife slid wetly back into its sheath. She hadn't bothered wiping the blade, as there was no need. "I'd not mind a drink. Ranok? Get you something?"

Jolie went hunting for a clean cloth to wipe her hands on.

Ranok looks displeased, "Maybe Hy vanted to actually try real qvestions before ve schtabbed him to death. Gott, voman. Henny eksuse to schtab zumone, literally or figuratively, huh?" He checks to make sure that the man, yes, is dead.

It was a surprising ending, but not entirely unwelcome... death was swift, within moments, the bleeding ceased, and his mind faded into the darkness.... The man died with a memory of an unspoken kindness from a stranger in his mind.

Leoxander would, considering the two weren't struggling directly in the walkway, make his way inside, sparing Ranok a sidelong glance just before he'd watch Jolie go 'Jason' on her prey. All of this taken in casual stride as he'd make his way for the bar, turning his veiled gaze about the establishment he had not been back to since it had mysteriously burnt down. It seemed he was more interested in the details and construction of the Corpse than over the one on the floor pooling blood. Steadman, should the man still exist to watch the common room, would naturally fix a dark and hate filled look on the rogue as he took his usual seat - third from the end.

Jolie said, "Like I said, my methods work best... Ranok. Really. You ask a necromancer for help, what do you expect?" She'd found that cloth, soon stained red. "Whiskey do you? Rum?"

Leoxander rested his arms on the counter to wait 'till he was noticed by someone other than 'one-eye', turning his head to keep the two in his peripheral vision.

Ranok gets up off the now dead man, his armor minutely splotched with blood, "Hy'm not komplainink dat hyu killed him, but dat hyu vere so dem eager to go down a road dat hain't easily reversed before odder options vere eksheusted. Vatever. Vat iz done iz done. Let's moff it on before he schtarts to go into rigor mortis."

The very end seat would have a bottle of whiskey standing on it, for no apparent reason. Jolie watched the rogue enter, grabbed another from the shelf. It slid up the bar, and ended its journey a few inched from dead center of where the pirate sat, and that was all he got for greeting for the moment. She hadn't missed the way his gaze slid around her tavern. She called again, "Leifong!" Hoping she didn't have to the dirty work herself. "No drink for you, Ranok? Then excuse me while I have one myself." The bottle she selected to pour from was clear, the liquid a pale green. Then she offered Leoxander a nod. "Hello, Leo."

Leifong responds rather instantly to the call of his assumed 'mentor', and quite suddenly he is just... there, as if he simply materialized out of the aether at Jolie's behest. The robed man is not particularly tall when compared to the near giant which is Ranok, nor is he large, or particularly threatening for any obvious reason. However his presence brings with it a subtle chill, as though a window had just been opened in the winter time, and the onset of a sinister, uneasy feeling is rather likely, despite how manly those presently gathered may feel. "Why must you only call me after the enjoyable part is already through with?" he speaks quietly to the woman, as footsteps which are suspiciously devoid of sound carry him to a halt just before the bag of now dead flesh. The priest's face is kept hidden in shadow by the low pulled hem of a hood which matches his robes, and whether he can actually see out from beneath it is uncertain, but the feeling that he is looking at you, and this goes for everyone present, is unshakable.

Ranok sighs, "A drink after killink, Jolie? Hy'm not sure if hyu're schtill zumhow needink de schteel for you nerves or hyu're disturbinkly social vith you killink. Hy hef a feelink it's a liddle from kolumn A, und a liddle from kolumn B."

Sinnea watched as the necromancer... her aura had a peculiar taste to it... stabbed the captive she had been following... she panicked. The man died, now what did she do? She flailed about, moaning atop the rafters, holding her head in her hands. What did she do, what did she do?

Jolie gave the priest a flinty look. "I hope you've been practising."

Leoxander wrapped his fingers around the neck of that bottle passed, holding the weight of his arm on it for a moment before he'd peel the top and pull the cork. He raised his jaw in a silent sort of thanks, a silent sort of greeting, and just sat there patiently while she spoke or yelled to others. The thought to check the liquid with a sniff was tempted, but instead, he displayed a show of trust by taking an immediate and long drink, though the taste of whiskey made him check the label with a scrunch of his nose as he swallowed.

Jolie said to Ranok, "Now.. if you'll excuse me? I have a little further business to deal with. Leifong will help you with your inquiries."

Leoxander glanced up at Jolie wordlessly, waiting to conduct business. He might have grunted a reply to her hello. His eyes were a little glazed but there were no obvious wounds or withdrawal weighing the rogue down.

Jolie gestured toward her 'shadow' as she'd come to think of the priest and moved along the bar's length, until she stood closer to Leoxander. "I take it your end of the deal is concluded, Leo," it was a murmur, followed by a sip of absinthe - neat, no sugar, no water.

Jolie 's barkeep sidled away, unless a patron wanted anything, to slouch on his usual low chair behind the bar.

Ranok said to Jolie, "So hyu schtab de guy dat Hy hed hoped to qvestion, und den hyu valk avay. Vat de fook, Jolie? Und den Hy bet hyu'll ask me for doze herpoons again vith a schtraight face aftervards."

Leoxander wore Caedan's satchel, still, across his back with his compound bow, along with his own. It was that extra pack in he was holding that would be place on the bar counter, but his hand wasn't taken from the top to give it over, yet. "Hope she's still in one piece." This was murmured low as his nose twitched, catching her she-wolf scent as she stepped nearer. Personally, he didn't care, but he didn't feel like dealing with the vampire's reaction to a lifeless friend. Another drink of that bottle was taken, his off colored eyes fixed to hers.

Leoxander offered Ranok a look as he used Jolie's name. A look that very clearly suggested he become more silent like.

Ranok ignores Leo completely and utterly.

Jolie only offered Ranok a slighty irritated look. Her voice still toned low, suitable for lycan ears to hear clearly enough, "Mint condition. Mostly." Her return gaze was cool, all business. "Will you make the exchange? If not, I have a man to do it. Bases covered, and whatnot."

Leifong makes no motion nor speaks any words to show whether he had indeed been practicing the art which Jolie had shown him, but the streets of both Vailkrin and Kelay had been strangely devoid of wandering peasants near closing time this last while. As though crumpling from the inside Leifong kneels slowly before the bag, and the glint of a blade can suddenly be seen in his left hand. It is a wicked little thing, a teardrop shape no more than a handspan in length, one edge smooth and razor sharp, the other toothy and jagged, and it is with the former mentioned edged that he cuts the corpse free of it's bondage and moves to splay it out on the floor, tossing the blood soaked sack off without much care as to where it might land. The body was covered in gashes from Jolie's butchery, and it leaked blood still from them, though far less than one might expect, most of it already congealing into a sticky mess on the floor where Leifong knelt now. The hooded man merely eyes the body with a sort of... appreciation, examining it closely as a jeweler might inspect a newly acquired stone. A pale hand extends out from one of those billowing sleeves, it's thin and digits being nearly skeletal in appearance as they spread the dead man's right eyelid's apart to look in his eye, and then grip his jaw, pulling it open and looking ponderously into his mouth.

Jolie said to Leoxander, "Not..." her gaze canted toward Leifong, "That man."

Jolie might've worn a tiny smirk, as she said that.

Leifong said to Ranok, "This belongs to you, yes?" his voice is cold and slightly raspy, as though his throat were completely dry. "And what knowledge is it that you wish to gain?"

Leoxander passed that pack across the counter her way, his attention returning to the sin eater. He sat back in his chair while she would likely lift the satchel full of pouches to check it's weight, and if she did so, she'd probably count that extra few coins nestled within. Whether or not the questioning look came, he slouched back with his arm on the counter and that grasp on the bottle still in tact. "I'll do it. Picked us up an extra five each for a name. Got any enemies?" This question prompted him to give Ranok another glance, almost certain Jolie knew his name.

Ranok counts to ten and exhales. All at once, his annoyance is evaporated and gone. He recites a long string of words in his native tongue. Then, he answers Leifong, "Yah to both. Hy veesh to ask several qvestions. Don' pour too much juice into de korpse. Hy don' vork onder time limits for de fun uf it, und decayink it from pushink too herd before Hy get vat Hy vant vill make me grumpy."

Jolie 's eyes narrowed again - in thought, rather than any vicious urge - at the renegade's question, the smirk not abating as her gaze followed his toward Ranok. "How long do I have to think on it?"

Leoxander took a drink and swallowed it, bottle raised in indication. "Bout as long as it takes me to finish this." And then a change of subject with a pinch of lines between his brows. "Where's my navigator?" Any business with the pool, he was almost certain Jolie would know that, too.

Leifong cast Jolie a look from where he knelt in the dead man's blood, and it was very likely that if she caught it, she would know exactly what he was asking with it, but for the time being he bites his tongue on the subject, and returns his focus to the corpse. "It is not a matter of 'juice' as you so have so aptly named it. It is a matter of observation, and... finesse." and as he says this the priest runs that wasted looking right hand of his down the torso of his corpse friend, whom he was beginning to appreciate far more for it's lack of speech. "What questions would you like answered?" he continues, his hand coming to rest above a strange anomaly in the corpse's gut region, becoming ever more curious.

Jolie hesitated, both to mentally scroll down her list of likely candidates for undeserved wrath, and because she didn't want to answer that second question. She filled the gap with her lifted of that bag, not making a show of her pleasure at its weight, and stowing it under the counter. Then Jolie grit her teeth, and got the answer over with. "I don't know." Followed quickly by, "She was safe, when I saw her. It's not..." she knew he didn't care much, but it went to some assurance, "Not the same place it used to be. Not any more. She won't be harmed."

Sinnea watches closely from the rafters, sensing the dying thing within the man's body, as it stirred slightly against the man's hand.

Jolie watching her 'Haruspex' carefully, with subtle glances cast the way of the grisly business ensuing on the tavern floor, which has sent only a small percentage of her patrons fleeing for the exit, the majority having become quite used to such scenes, of late.

Ranok crosses his arms, "Hy don' hef a list, if dat's vat hyu're vonderink. My qvestions depend on de ansvers to de previous vuns. Here's a schtarter qvestion. Vere vas de rendezvous point dis man vas meant to go to schould he hef succeeded in his task?"

Leoxander worked on that bottle, accepting her answer hesitantly. A shake of his head given when she suggested those words. "Like hell. If it's not then it's just trickin' your ass again." But that was all he'd say on the matter, as 'pool' was more foul a word than any he spoke, in his vocabulary. As for that name, he'd figure out one to give Darkheart on the way, and didn't stress over the issue. Another traveling look around that tavern to take in the dark stone fortifying the walls. "The prize at the same place, then? Your boy better not get in my way." Low, fair warning that he didn't want to deal with someone else directing him what 'Miss Jolie' wanted. Next time he'd throw punches first and ask questions later.

Jolie 's lips tightened for some seconds, at all of the above. "Ryzz.” The name was dropped like ice in a glass. "Is who to point at. And yes, it is. It ..." her voice was already low, but dropped to barely above a breath, ".. needs to remain unaware of where she's been. I ought to come and see..." but she got the distinct impression her presence was thorn, by name and nature, and was rather tired of feeling it, and so shrugged, "There's drugs there. It ought to suffice."

Leoxander raised his shoulder. "Do what you need done, Lady, probably better than me knocking her upside the head." The bottle was tilting farther back with every drink, indicating he was just about finished with it. A raise of his jaw toward a one eyed glare would turn other attention on him aside before he looked back toward Jolie. "And it wouldn't hurt to plant something in her head sober to make her believe it was this guy." His voice was low, but not impossible to hear. After all, he knew the faces that were eavesdropping in, if word spread outside that room.

Jolie tilted her head toward the door, by way of reply, her own concerns running the same path.

Jolie said, "Well. You coming with?"

Leifong remains quiet as Ranok tells him what he'd like to know, shady though the details were, the priest figured he could obtain the information, at least roughly. But there was a concern, for whatever the anomaly inside the corpse's gut was, it had just moved against his touch, and it reeked of foul magic. Keeping his right hand firmly in place above the bulge, the priest raises the wicked little knife in his left and sets to work, creating the first two cuts of the classic 'y' incision starting from either shoulder and finishing just above the celiac plexus, leaving a v shaped cut in the chest. The man's motions are mechanically precise, using the exact amount of force to perfectly sever all layers of the skin, without causing undue damage to the muscle or nerve tissue below. As the first two cuts are completed, pulls back the clothing which had been cut as well to reveal the flesh underneath, and then sets to work on the third cut. He pulls a straight line down from the meeting place of his first two incisions, and as he goes a mumbled mantra can be heard falling from between his blackened lips, though the language it was spoken in should be totally indecipherable to the ears of those present, save perhaps the sin-eater. As the chant builds, and the slow vertical cut continues, tendrils of pure darkness seep from the priest's mouth and writhe their way out and down his arm like snakes, coalescing into a writing mass about the right hand which maintains it's firm position over the lump in his corpse friend's gut. "There is something here." the priest mouths quietly, more to himself than to anyone else as his knife finally halts in it's cut, the blade flush with his stationary right hand. "It will have to be removed." and as he says this, the fingers of that same hand visible tighten, and all at once that writhing mass of darkness tears it's way into the corpse's flesh, encircling and imprisoning whatever the thing in there was. With all his might the man pulls back, and the shadows aim to follow, in an attempt at tearing the bulge fully and swiftly from within the corpse while doing as little damage as possible to the innards it rests in.

Leoxander set his empty bottle down to stand, making no move to reach for his pockets to pay for that drink.

Jolie said, quite redundantly, as she eyed that bottle, "On the house." And she turned, toward the exit. "Leifong, I'll see you when I return.""

Leoxander would head out that door wordlessly in Jolie's wake, sparing the undead priest a look in passing.

On Hemlock Way

Leoxander stepped out of that building with a black piece of fabric untucked from the collar of his vest, pulled over the bridge of his nose to fit his jaw and conceal the lower half of his face. From the back of his neck, he'd draw a dark hood and rake his fingers back through his hair, taking it from his eyes for a moment to hide it in that dark cowl, as well. Between those sable lines, his eyes caught light from near windows to glint in that feral way, angling two spots of different colored glow toward her.

Jolie's neck prickled, the way it often did these days when eyes were on her back. She'd slow further, a glance offered the disguised pirate over her shoulder, waiting for him to take the few strides to catch her up, so she wouldn't have to raise her voice.

Leoxander cast a glance across the street, down the opposite way, a taste of scent through mask acquired before he was convinced they were not being followed or watched. Turning, he'd head down the street after her, his pace meant to catch up but he did not break into a jog to do so. She looked ready to speak, so Leo remained silent.

Jolie said, "I need her taken to Kelay, anywhere on the road there. Tricky," the look she gave Leoxander held a hint of apology for that fact, "But that's where we found her. I'd like this as far from Vailkrin as possible."

Leoxander slid his hands into his pockets as he found a place at her side to walk, seemingly casual for someone masked and hooded and pacing the streets of Vailkrin. "Alright, I got a spot. Though you better watch your back. Even if I throw this blaggard off your scent he's got that look in his eyes. He's gonna know what he can from her an' go after somebody. He was already offering me a pretty little promise on gold if I brought one of you back with her."

Jolie said, "The one I named.. he's fingered himself as a crook, in public. Calling for dark types, boasting. Not a hard association to make. Maybe we can help that along." Like it needed saying. The twin moons were like mismatched eyes in the Vailkrin sky, and Leo was not the only hooded figure to tread those dark stones under their baleful gaze. Jolie herself wore no disguise, as yet, though a black kerchief hung, knotted around her throat loosely. It was a little bit like old times, this. And to swat the thought away, she said, "Let's get there. And.. good work. For the extra." Just so he knew she'd felt the weight, and appreciated it."

Leoxander answered with nothing more than a glance her way, also recognizing the familiarity of the scene. He'd move on ahead of her a step or two to lead the way, rather than follow, a bit of alpha instinct surfacing in his behavior, in the company of the she-wolf he bit.

Jolie allowed that dominant gesture. These were her lands, her territories, and their roles as they'd been were somewhat... confused... now. But he was the Alpha, still, in her mind, as ever. She dogged Leo's steps toward the awkward-angled house and its crazy maze of dead and dying bushes, her kerchief tugged up now there were less people to recognise her tiny frame, her telltale heels, and wonder why Joliette Thorne was looking particularly nefarious.

Trinsa blew a raspberry, why? The fuzz in her mouth from days of wearing the hood. The only reprise from the stench of her own breath is the occasional lifting that happened for food, drink, or that cold fluid they kept drenching her throat in. She had been napping, oblivious to the ongoings but as it does when one wakes up, her mouth was dry. Raspberries did not help remove the lint.

Leoxander approached with a stall when he heard that particular sound of breath that resembled flatulence, a pause and a look roaming back toward Jolie while he stood to one side of the door. It was her safe house and she'd have the honor or checking for traps or calling off her dogs, though he hovered near with hand ready for hilt if they revealed trouble behind that door. He brow furrowed slightly at that bit of noise his sharp ears had caught.

Jolie's ears caught that sound too, her chin canting up as she surveyed that one unbroken upper window. Stepping past the male lycan, she drew a small key from her pocket in case Urgh or the other men were not present. Three soft knocks. No answer. Her brow furrowed - and she unlocked the door, pushing it up a little to defy the squeak in its hinges, her first step inside silent, cautious. With no assassins leaping out - today - and no sign of a scuffle, she grew bolder, and would gesture Leoxander toward the stairs.

Trinsa sputtered a little, finally able to manage to gather enough saliva to gather the fuzz into a ball then expel it into the hood. She was relatively normal, the previous dose of solution had worn off during her sleep. How long had she been here? When did she last have a chance to move around more then a few inches? Worse yet, when was the last time the elf had bathed. Some of these thoughts were more important then others but what she settled in to think about is the thready memory of the conversation she had with Mahri, unknowing it is that wolf that spoke to her.

Leoxander settled a stare briefly upon Joliette, as though one last check of her features and expression and emotional scent that he was not walking into some trap. She'd have to forgive his cautious manner, or not, but he'd had too many blades in aim for his throat and heart as of late. Eventually Leo did head toward those stairs and he'd follow a scent through fabric toward the hostage, wherever she was being held. The tension in his body suggested he was ready if something did happen to disturb the order of their crime.

Trinsa sighed, shaking her head lightly at the way her mind wandered and finally decided it was time to get a drink. Not that she was in such a position to demand it, but she did have her voice... "Hello~?" the elf called out, expecting one of the ruffians or perhaps the helpful woman from before. "Are you there~?" Unaware of the danger that may lurk, or the entrance of others, "May I have some water?" It seemed odd that, for the first time that she can recall, she actually was alone. Trinsa considered the lack of sound before twisting in the cot to loosen the rope that held down her shoulders.

Jolie caught that look. Again. Whatever she thought of it, she'd force her mind to business at hand and follow the rogue up the staircase to the head of it, where she took the liberty of stepping past him once more. The hall was dank and filled with strewn leaves, blown in through those busted windows, doors fallen off their hinges. The proportions of the building seemed odd, too, and she would hasten toward the captive's room, outfitted for more comfort than the others might have afforded the elf. It bothered the necromancer greatly that nobody was here to guard their 'guest', and her own anxiety was a scent Leo might pick up on as she turned the handle of that one new-looking door. The sound of Trina's voice would see the tension drop from her posture, her shoulders and once more her entry was more brazen, assured as she was that death was not stalking her too closely at this very moment. "I'll get you some." Not so raspy today, that voice, but still more husky than it would have been normally. Jolie stepped toward the hooded, bound elf. First things first... the drug.

Leoxander found it all too easy. She was thirsty, and Jolie had just the thing to quench that thirst. Arms folded over his chest and he took a lean in the doorway casually as he watched the scene play out, giving Trinsa a glance over with a vague scowl at the curves on such a small frame - she was sure to be a heavy carry. He would not speak a word, gaze following the sin eater's movements in case communication needed to be exchanged through a wolfish glance.

Leoxander turned a look over his shoulder down the rest of the mangled hallway, simply aware of his surroundings.

Trinsa jumped, as much as she could in her position, a startled stop to her writhing. Had the other seen her try to wiggle her way out? She wasn't sure but at this point was mostly confident that there would not be a beating over it. The elf had heard stories, only stories from books and elaborations, of people being kept captive and awful things done to them but this? This was not so bad compared to those tales. Had she an idea of anyone that had first hand experience, she may be less mouthy, or inclined to ask for little things such as a drink of water. "Thank you." she said, deflated. The voice was different, sort of like the other, but not quite as rough. She suspected it is the same but with this hood, she could not be certain yet it held a sort of familiarity. Like Mahri's she couldn't match it, or complete the puzzle as to where she had heard it before but it is recognized as something she should know like hearing the voice of a childhood memory in adult life.

Jolie took up the potion vial - the last tiny dribble remaining was barely enough to set Trinsa seeing double, but it would have to do. This was carefully poured on the elf's tender throat-skin - with a knee planted on her chest again, if she got feisty - before the hood would be slipped up an inch to reveal a dry mouth, and the glass of water (a little dusty) was lifted to parched lips. A quick glance at the healer's magic wrist-bells assured the lycaness that those jingling magics would not be interfering any, the clappers still clogged well and truly with resin liberally applied. "If you're good, we'll let you go home today," she said. Not out of kindness, or anything. Once the hood was brought low, she nodded to Leo. Then stood, and made a racket - a chair kicked, a scrape of timber, a heel thunked on the boards.

Jolie said, "Bloody hell Ryzz, watch where..."

Jolie grinned at Leo, caught up in the ruse enough to enjoy herself with it.

Leoxander stepped forward the moment that racket began, not only providing a second set of man's footsteps to prove this Ryzz person was present, but because he expected that dose would kick in pretty quick, and took Jolie's nod as the go ahead. Making certain that hood was back down over her face with a rough tug, the elf would feel her body lifted from the floor and hoists unceremoniously over his shoulder, like a sack of sand. He gave the woman's grin a glance and sort of shook his head at her, though amusement vaguely sparked there in a mismatched gaze before it turned away. With Darkheart's paid for prize, the rogue would make his way out of that room and toward the stairs, even if he had to pin kicking legs to his ribs with an arm. If she'd been cold in that cryptic space, she might be grateful for the noticeable temperature of the lycanthrope's body, even where leather dressed.

Jolie picked up the chair and turned it right way up, sitting in it once all four of its legs were sturdily on the boards. She offered Leo a little wave goodbye, mouthing, 'Thanks.'

Trinsa felt the drizzle on her throat. It was an all too familiar sensation that she is starting to not enjoy so much. The night before, she could have swore there were ghosts in the house messing with her via noise. She had not slept very well do to the commotion but what choice did she have. That water, as dusty as it is, was still welcomed and she took every drop that was offered. Perhaps she shouldn't have and she thought about this too late. There seemed less on her neck then before. Unaware that the supply was running out, it dawned on her that maybe there was something more to the stale drink. Her mind was in the process of feeling the effects of the concoction when she heard a name. Ryzz? "Ryzzberries keep the sprites out." she commented to herself. With all of the furniture dropping, it had to be the ghosts again. "Augh!" she grunted onto LeoX's shoulder. The first time she had bent in nearly a week. He was uncomfortable, especially with the bend of his arm against the bone of her hip. "Where are we going? To church? I don't worship, don't make me go to the church." she told him as the heat that radiated off the man oozed through her hood he had tugged down.

Leoxander might have narrowed his eyes slightly in response, lacking the angry knot in his brow. She wouldn't hear a boot step once he was out of sight, passed that door. She might, however, hear the sudden muffle of Trinsa's voice as he found a convenient bandana out of his pack pocket to stuff under her hood, roughly into her mouth, likely making it dry and grimy, again. The stairs might creak just softly, once, in their age, on his descent after that. A stirring of wind would indicate an opening and closing of the entrance below and then perfect silence in the Strange Abode.

Some Time Later, At An Abandoned House, in Kelay

Trinsa sat in the corner of a closet she was shoved in as the world went by around her. Her throat is still wet from the most recent application of the mixture meant to keep her confused about the situation at hand. Trinsa's mind struggled to keep itself in order despite it's affects but chemical interference often negated her processes. The elf can be heard, babbling to herself - if one was so inclined to be in the bedroom of the house she was dropped off at.

Leodarkheart is in the bedroom. The note that he had received was a simple riddle in itself, though it could have been any number of the houses. 'Look in the closet', the note read. Leo was worried at what he might find, though he had paid LeoX to assure Trinsa's safe delivery to him. The vampire knew that his own word was worthless if he had not proven himself to the listener. I steadied himself at the door, preparing to rip the door from the hinges, then hesitated. 'Poor Trin has been through enough without me scaring her.' Leo eased the door open, "Trinsa", he said listening to the incoherent speech. Drugged he had hoped, with no other malady causing this to occur. He pulled the door full open and kneeled where she was lying, "Trinsa, you are here. Thank goodness. Are you okay?" Leo was unsure as to whether or not she could answer, using the words to comfort his worries.

Trinsa reached out with bound hands, one plump finger extended for Leo's chin in order to poke him. She blew a raspberry. Why that is significant to her, she had no idea, but she had to do it as her way of telling him the start of what she could remember. Funny thing as to how these topical solutions worked. The dose she had been given was not a full one which helped her make some sense, even if her actions did not ring any bells with the vampire. "Leo~pffffftttt" another raspberry blew.

Trinsa turned her black hood over her head as if she were trying to see who was there, if it really is Leo. The voice matched, one of many she had heard.

Leodarkheart was unsure of what it was that caused this though there was a slight smell being given off around her neck. "Shhh, Trin. It's okay let us get back to your room at the Temple. You should rest, hopefully whatever it is will wear by morning and you will be able to tell me what has occurred." Leo was greatly relieved that she was here, and alive. Though the lasting effects of the encounter had yet to be seen. "Here," he said as he lifted her from the closet floor and pulled her into him, carrying her as if she were a child. "Rest easy, soon you will be in a safe warm bed. I will stand guard at your door in case you need anything." Leo made way towards the Temple, his heart in his hands and a weight lifted from his shoulders. She had returned.