[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLVIII

[Devixer]

A woman dressed in very plain clothing enters the tavern, sitting down a table next to a wall. She clutches at the hilt of her side sword as she glances at all the other patrons. Everyone here was so vastly different from her, she had no idea how to react.

[Arkhosia]

Names.
All familiar, recognizable, with faces Rabbit wishes she could just barely remember...but, in truth, she can recall them vividly.
DC, Tobias, Maggumstok.
Three years she'd been gone- in years gone passed, in her prime, people came and went like seasons, names were forgotten. She had hoped that her time away would have resulted in the same, but some people stuck around like a bad cough and she was faced with an inarguable truth.

Rabbit cannot start over.
"Reinchildren." There had been a time when there had only been one child and Reinholdt had sworn never again.
He'd never been good at promises.
"There's a name for them, there's so many?" The smile that touched across Rabbit's red lips was dark and humorless. Other elements of the story sink in to her bones, some irrelevant to her (though not to her player's other character), some jarring, but the necromancer shows no outward signs of being shaken.

No, but it's just easier to refer to them as that instead of Reinholdt's children. I know two, but I think there may have been at least one or two others. I'm not sure.
Caelynn replies with a serious demeanor. It's obvious that cheerful optimism isn't right for this situation.
Oh, my contact on the other side of the wall is telling me to mention that Magtok has 3 children in their teens. They're from alternate universes, not his children by true genetics. One of them, Sophia, is showing promise as a member of VIGIL. My contact likes to promote this person for some reason. He's a bit of a jerk.

[Holy-hunter]

The tavern doors swings wide open, cascading a long dark shadow across the taver floor. A man of muscular build with broad shoulders, standing tall with authority and purpose, confidently strides in. He is garbed in tight dark brown leathers and heavy travelling boots. Over that, blackened steel greaves protect his shins, a well polished ornate breastplate covers his chest and braces of the same darkened sturdy extravagant material extend to his solid gauntlets. He holds tight under his arm a visored helmet to complete the military ensemble.

His face, the only bare skin exposed, bares a man weathered by many a hardships and obstacles, aged by the sun and littered with long healed reminants of scars he would be estimated in his early thirties. Soft stubble litters his masculine jawline, the thick ragged dirty blonde hair atop his head only adds to his rugged charm.

The one feature that truly makes the man unique is his deep dark mesmerising brown eyes with a soft copperish glow like that of burning charcoal.

A soft scent of brimstone flows on the air following him in as he makes his way to a secluded seat at the bar, warily eyeing the woman holding her blade as he walks past.

Once at the bar he places his helmet carefully down as he takes his seat and removes from a hidden pocket a modest pouch of coins. He throws the pouch down deliberately allowing a few pieces of shining gold to roll out.
He then firmly taps the table top twice with his fingers in attempt to signal for service.

As he waits he leans against the bar and tilts his head to the side, blonde wavy locks fall partially in front of his face, unfazed he watches on at the two ladies to his left conversing, one with child and the other a cigar. A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he continues to openly listen in on the conversation.

[RabbitHoleLost]

The ash from her cigar grows heavy and drops to the floor and Rabbit resumes massaging the bridge of her nose. Magtok, with children.
She wasn't certain he was allowed near children, much less allowed to have them, products of alternate universes or not. Rabbit is near opening her mouth to offer a catty response when the peculiar scent of brimstone drifts heavily to her nose. She'd been dead, she'd smoked for years, and even still the smell, in it's smallest increments, could be recognized by her. One silk gloved hand dropped, the other raised the cigar back to her mouth, clenched it between teeth- a nervous reaction made by a woman occasionally struck by paranoia - and Rabbit's emerald eyes searched through the Tavern until they landed on the newly arrived stranger.
Though the other woman had irritated her beyond all belief just moments before, Rabbit felt suddenly and inexplicably defensive of Caelynn, of her personal space and of her daughter.
Rabbit's spatted boots hit the old wood planks of the floor and she took several slow, lazy steps to put herself between the mother-daughter pair and the unknown factor...but, still, she said nothing to him.

He was, as of yet, just weird (never trust a face that welcomes trust), but not a threat.
Maybe irritating, with his lack of respect for the privacy of a conversation.
"That it, lady? Magtok flipped a switch and someone's masquerading around as m-"
A pause. Her eyes, for just a moment, seemed a turmoil and a mess.
A deep, deep drag of her cigar.
Normalcy. Cold and cruelty seeps back into her gaze as if they had never left.
"Reinholdt's son?"

[Arkhosia]

Pretty much. I assume you plan to try and start anew? Join VIGIL and help people, or join GLoG, or simply hide away as a recluse? I'm guessing the first two, as you seem the type that would want to act and possibly clear your name, so to speak.
Caelynn inquires/thinks out loud.
She keeps an eye on the newcomer

[RabbitHoleLost]

"You-" And the word comes out both accusatory and full of sneering laughter. "Know absolute nothing about me." Lips curl almost threateningly around the cigar, almost like a gash of red instead of a smile.
"They wouldn't let me back into GLoG if it wasn't the last place I want to be." As if to prove a point, Rabbit's nose wrinkles in something like disgust. "No. No, I don't have anything I need to clear up.
Or want to."

[Baeleck]

Niara has been sitting around in the tavern for a good portion of her day, now. Having cosied up in her favourite seat by the fireplace, she's deeply engrossed in what looks to be a school textbook. Usually, she'd have some sort of meeting planned with an associate, but not today. Today was a day for relaxing and reading and drinking.

She's just started on her third glass of wine. She does rather enjoy the stuff.

Meanwhile, her drone is snooping as usual, poking its proverbial nose into whomever's business it pleases. It never lingers for long, mind - quickly moving between the numerous new arrivals.

[Arkhosia]

"You-" And the word comes out both accusatory and full of sneering laughter. "Know absolute nothing about me." Lips curl almost threateningly around the cigar, almost like a gash of red instead of a smile.
"They wouldn't let me back into GLoG if it wasn't the last place I want to be." As if to prove a point, Rabbit's nose wrinkles in something like disgust. "No. No, I don't have anything I need to clear up.
Or want to."

Hey, I'm just going off of the limited info I have. I meant that you'd want to make your reputation month "mom of Sheperd". And GLoG has changed. Hell, they sheltered Reinholdt until he left.
Caelynn explains.

[Holy-hunter]

A sigh signals the mans growing impatients with the service, he rolls a gold piece between his fingers shortly but soon that bores him too, he glances towards the nervous patron who is clinging to her sword and then decides to move.

Arching his back with a small groan he stands tall, swiping up a couple more coins he slides over to the two women. Touching rabbit on the shoulder he drops the coins infront of her and quickly adds with a nod, .

"Be a doll and get us all a round of something fine" there's an air of arrogance in his deep yet soft voice.

And with that he gives her a taunting wink and a small smile forms in the corner of his mouth as he turns and walks away before either can reply.
"Cats and rabbits eh, never can play nicely" he says to himself, loud enough for them to hear, as he pulls out a chair and and takes a seat across from the plain clothed woman sitting against the wall.

"Can you even use that?" he asks notioning towards her sword.

[Devixer]

The woman tightens her grip on her sword when the man takes an unoffered seat. She's had a cup of hot tea delivered to her, and takes a sip. "Why would I carry a weapon I can't use," she says. Her voice is heavily accented, making her Arabic origins a bit clearer.

[Holy-hunter]

Leaning in nice and close he replies "because something is better than nothing,
Because some times a lie will keep you safer than the truth,
Because the way it feels in your hand gives you an illusion of security?

Or... " he adds calmly sitting back
"maybe it's not even yours and your just carrying it from one place to the next, I don't really know nor care, but I could hardly start a conversation about your clothes "

He flicks his hand through the air as if waving off any seriousness or hostility of his words and studies the woman's face intently.

[RabbitHoleLost]

A sudden, imperceptible shift to a new thread