Far into the darkness, sat two watchful green eyes. The eyes cheers something like joy.The Elf could not more than laugh lightly inside about the group of people who sat down there. How could They be right Here right Now? Just in time as she was here ... She jumped down from her hidden place and sat down a bit closer to the group, but still at a small distance.
A warm feeling swept through her body, the heat from the fire right next to her could not warm as good as this feeling. She wanted to join the group. But people shy as she is, she knew not what she would do. Lastly, she decided to stay and just observe the nice and probably kind group of people... Kyrah felt like she was home now, for once she had people around her, and this hadn't been the case for months. She'd been questing around for triumph and everything that she had learn to know is that thoose kind of things doesn't really matter. You just need to have people around you, and not walk on your own. She puffed out.
It resonated through the tavern. A slow, hollow and mechanical sound. Too sudden had it come to define a source.
Click
Coming from above now, those with a keen ear would see a hunched over and cloaked figure on the upper level of the tavern busying over something on the broken brown table. The lightest of whirring noises could be heard behind the pit of the ear; a sense of electricity upon metal spiking the air with a rise of instinctual danger. Strange sensations that one would associate with the unnatural or the dangerous seemed to suddenly rise and cease as the clicking halts. The figure shifts with an audible grunt, thinner against the light as he appeared stationary, far too broken to be healthy.
Drazial sits still for a few more moments, glaring down through burning orbs of golden light that make up his vision. A somewhat rudimentary looking device held in what once was a hand (now more describable as a claw). He turns it over for inspection as the device fizzles, crackling a deathly looking purple light. He shakes his hooded head and crushes the engineered metals with a hiss, tossing it over his shoulder towards the group in discard.
Last edited by mmocfc23125a6d; 2011-11-08 at 01:50 AM.
Bindi blinks as something comes falling down from the sky, landing with a clatter upon the table she and the others have gathered, bouncing with clumsy clanks onto the floor till it comes to a lazy but ringing stop. Casting a glance up to see where it came from, she purses her lips before bending down to pick up the deformed piece of metal, the edges crushed together with some force.
"Huh..." she mutters as she weighs the junk in her large hand, eyeing it with interest to see if it still has any sort of value before tilting her chin up and back to look up towards the level above them, her earrings jingling with the slow motion of her head," oi up there! No loiterin'! (low) Especially things that still can be sold for a coin. Mine."
Reaching for her belt, she fiddles with one of her pouches to try and fit the metal in it after placing her mug on the table to have both her hands free; finders keepers, no?
The figure above shifts against the table once more, knocking the assorted bottles gathered with a clattering all for the effort of turning himself about. A black hood hangs heavily down to shroud the higher features of the undeathly shaped creature, whipping purple lights staring down from the impossibly black space of the headgear in observation. A few moments of tension pass as the orbs stare down onto the goblin before the colour of the lights softens to a dull orange. The figure turns back around against the table and after a few moments, the scritching of a quill can be heard, an elongated, dirty feather wafting through the air in response to the inking.
Drazial hushes under his breath a silent chuckle to himself as he finishes a rough sketch. His boney claw raking across the yellow stained parchment and smoking orange eyes burning brighter with solitary deviance.
"Egh..."
Bindi shakes her head after meeting the glowing gaze which shifted in color so high above her, not certain what to think of it, of him. Obviously one of the Forsaken, but apparently not the one the Orc beside her is looking for. What is he doing up there and why did he discard the piece of metal she just took for herself to perhaps smelt and sell on? Bringing the mug up to her lips as she remains in deep thought, she glugs the sweet-smelling content down before pushing herself away from the empty chair she was leaning against to walk away from the group which had gone silent after an object came falling down.
Time to figure out. No harm done by some prying, right?
Walking up the walkway with her short legs and the bouncing knots of hair on top of her head, she spots the hooded Undead fairly easily before slowing in her steps. Leaving her now empty mug upon one of the tables she passes by, she twirls on her heels to softly land with her shoulders against the edge of the table Drazial sits by, raising her arms to cross them over her chest while her aubergine colored eyes watch the feather of his pen wave about.
'Hey, how ya doin'? Busy, I see. Watcha doin'? Plannin' on concuring the world, eh, with makin' all them scribbles and knockin' holes into people's heads with tossin' precious metal about? Crude, but lovely tactic."
Valine bites in of the the metal pieces that landed in her food, "Ahw my teeth, Hey you there! look out where you throw your junk!" she says with a angry voice while she hold her hand against her mouth where she feeled the pain. With picking out the junk out of her food she throwed it back to the person that throwed to the table the group was siting. "People of these days thinking they are the only one on this world" Valine says while she start to eat again.
The piece of shrapnel makes a soft tick as it bounces off the blackened shoulder piece of the undead figure. The undead makes a grumbling noise from the back of his throat that gurgles forth in a shallow manner. A claw lifts to brush against the shoulder piece before the undead turns to glance at the little green quick speaker. An antithesis sitting in the withered, undeathly form shrouded in black and appearing solumn, Drazial's head swift turns to stare at Bindi with piercing golden orbs as she leans casually against his table. The scroll in his claw is dragged off the table and pressed between the fabric of his robes as he rises and passes, walking out of the inn with a hollow murmur. The dried wooden flooring underneath his tread almost darkening as he walks out the door into the blearing sunlight, the table crackles with residue and the piece of 'junk' stirs ominously to itself within Bindi's pouch.
"Ey' mon, you didn't pay for your drink!"
The troll barkeep heads after him out of the door, returning a few moments after with a scowl on his tusks before taking position back behind the bar.
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