Right. Get hidden old man... or perhaps you can make sure this lot are gagged and not going anywhere. I'll drag them up for you.
And he did, with their help, depositing them all in the deepest corner of the attic and tied together in a rather intricate, if not beautiful manner. Something else he may have learned in the east. He left the attic then and walked down stairs, made sure the place looked reasonable for their coming guests. What the hell was meant to be under the house?
Kiko was just as puzzled about the whole "under the house" bit herself. But, well, that would probably all be answered with the arrival of this Frederickson person. Her eyes went back to Grayell. He was wrapping the men up with rope in a very familiar pattern.
She was really going to have to ask him more about his time in her homeland. Soon.
Toro was thoroughly confused by all this, but knew better than to question people that knew more than him. He tidied up a few of the home's things that had been knocked down, then stopped in the doorway to a storeroom.
I don't know what's coming, but I'll hide in here. He took a deep breath.
Kiko didn't have anything to add to that. She was best at silence anyway. Instead she took one more pass around the house. She wanted no mistakes, or surprises before this Frederickson person showed up. She had to wonder too, if these fellows were as truly idiotic as they appeared to be.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Toro hid himself, and it was an hour before anything happened. IT was getting dark, but on the horizon there seemed to be a darker cloud that gathered, blotting out the sun. The temperature changed, growing several degrees colder.
Grayell watched the weather and frowned. It was dark and foreboding... but it was only weather. Far from concerned, he found a seat in the house and looked well, like a mercenary.
Kiko returned from her venture back through the house. She'd noticed the clouds herself, but was not overly concerned. She was on edge, though, maybe it was the electric feel to the air that rushed in front of the storm. She had no other reason for it, beyond irritation at having to wait.
The "weather" got worse, and it became clear it was not normal. While the rest of the sky darkened normally, in one direction black clouds began to swirl angrily, the soft rumbling of thunder audible.
Grayell leaned in the doorway now, he hated theatrics. Likely a blasted mage with a penchant for the dramatic. Should be fun to lock his blasted ass up.
He had little to say, he just folded his arms across his chest, his jar setting and his eyes; growing cold, locked on the oncoming figure.
Kiko's nose flared. The electricity in the air doubled, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing up in response to it. She had only one experience with a mage. She did not like it. At all.
Wolf?
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
The figure got closer, the dark clouds following him. The air got colder and the sky was blotted out, but strangely the man seemed to glow. He walked steadily, with an air of superiority. As he got closer, his nature was apparent.
His form glowed and shifted, his hands sometimes naught but bone and sometimes covered in greenish skin. He stopped in front of the house, laying eyes on the two of them, taking a puff of his cigar and straightening his tie. Then he spoke; his voice was deep and dark, like the slamming of a coffin door or the crumbling of tombstones.
Grayell was not impressed, but that did not make him reckless. My three eyes squid head seemed to be packing and if Grayell was to act rashly; he might bite off more than he could chew. That and he had Kiko to think of.
No, no use in getting into a conflict. Yet. He wanted some answers. Better to entertain Mr Bad Hair Day and see if he couldn't establish just what the hell was going on.
Kiko didn't know what to think about the sea monster creature. Other than he looked like a sea monster, or a bad, bad, version of one. Really, a human body? Why did he need arms and hands? This puzzled her for a few moments, the West was the weird.
She didn't say anything, staying in the background
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”