Since it's humble and questionable origins as the town at the edge of the world, the one place that was always busy in Wistvale has been The Menagerie Tavern.
Whilst the town around it has changed dramatically in recent times, the tavern has held onto it's rustic aesthetic and rowdy crowd, a quaint reminder of times past.
Truth be told though, the locals like it that way. If you're new in town, it should be your first port of call. If you've been about some time, you've probably worn a hole in your favourite seat.
Either way, all are welcome so long as they don't cause much of a commotion. The ale is cold, the fire is warm and the people... well. The people are just too much to sum up in words.
Kiko opened the door of the tavern. She stopped inside the sturdy building to stamp the dirt off her feet and to unclasp the cloak from around her shoulders. She was not one for loud announcements of her presence or raucous commotion and fanfare. However, her eyes made up for what her mouth did not say. She searched the interior of the place quickly and thoroughly.
She was not expecting anyone. She did not come here to find anyone either. Kiko rarely made it in to Wistvale. But, for some reason, her feet had carried her in this direction and she had learned long ago to pay attention to her instincts.
Kiko took a seat beside one of the more shadowy tables and settled down to wait.
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.”
Ursine [M:5:25:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=377&page=1#14973]Time is a roiling ocean, and yours is naught but a tear into the maelstrom.
"Thought everyone knew this was the lunatic's table," a voice from somewhere near Kiko's elbow says, with what might be a hint of amusement, if the voice didn't sound so weary. Ursine levers herself to a position that is closer to sitting than the sprawl she was in, still slouched rather heavily into the seat. She sighs and begins to push her hair out of her face, grimacing at a few strands that had fanned themselves into a puddle of....something sticky on the table. She finishes pulling her hair behind her head, smoothing it out as best she can, before settling heavily onto her elbows, palming her chin, and looking at Kiko, maybe a little expectantly. "So, what brings someone moderately sane-looking into the crazy corner of this cozy cabin?"
Kiko's eyebrows went up. She should have noticed the girl, even slumped and passed out, apparently, on the table. She did not recognize her either. Not that she knew everyone in town. She didn't know half of them, and some of the ones she did know? Well... no use dwelling on them.
Your definition of sane differs from mine.
Which was most likely true. And if the question perturbed her in any fashion Kiko quiet response did not acknowledge it.
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.”
Ursine [M:5:25:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=377&page=1#14973]Time is a roiling ocean, and yours is naught but a tear into the maelstrom.
"Ah, ah, ah," Ursine says, ticking a finger at her. "No, I did not say sane. I said 'moderately sane-looking'." She pulls herself to a mostly sitting position, barely slumping at all, and scowls down at her shirt, licking her thumb and trying to rub grease out of it, brushing crumbs and the like off. "I suppose all the regulars know this is my corner, but you...you don't look like a regular. Not from around here, I suppose?"
Kiko watched her for a minute or two while she brushed off her shirt but said nothing more about sanity or who looked sane. She did answer the other questions, though.
No. I am not a regular. I live outside of town. I'm Kiko. And you would 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.”
Ursine [M:5:25:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=377&page=1#14973]Time is a roiling ocean, and yours is naught but a tear into the maelstrom.
After stopping her continued assault upon grease-spots, she flashes a smile that perhaps shows too much tooth, knowing full and well what she looked like. "Ursine, although I also answer to 'that crazy bitch'. It seems to be what most people know me as." She sticks a hand out, considers for a moment, then sticks the other out. She gives that smile with too-much tooth again, waving the hand she moved near her head. "Licked the thumb on this one." The hand steals down, almost of its own accord, and begins to rub at a grease spot again.
Kiko's eyebrows went up just a little bit more. This Ursine seemed to be rather obsessive about her clothing. But, if that were true why would she have allowed the shirt to get dirty in the first place? Kiko filed it under odd behavioral quirks she would probably never understand.
She winced inwardly at the word bitch, though. Yeah. "They" might call her that but Kiko never would. She shook the other girl's hand. It was the expected gesture, and with it a quick inhale of air.
Definitely human.
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.”
She slips into the tavern silently as the door begins to close behind a large brute of a man, her head lowered beneath black fabric that falls past her shoulders. The girl stays close to the edge of the room where there are shadows until she finds one of the few empty tables, lowering into the hard wooden seat with some grace as her pale hands lift to push back the hood only slightly, enough to allow her a clear view of the tavern and it's patrons. Her green eyes scan each and every person she can see, a quick glance was all she would need, she knew well the type of person she was looking for, though luck seems to be against her this day.
Grayell entered the tavern, pulling his hood back to reveal his face as the worn door creaked shut behind him. He threw a glance about the room. He knew everyone here, even if they had no idea just who he was... except a newcomer. Pretty thing, lurking in the corner.
That would wait a moment. He spotted Kiko talking to the lady known as Ursine and smiled, a strange pairing but it was good to see her socializing. He sometimes wondered about their solitude, if perhaps she'd like to be closer to town. In town. It wasn't the life he cared for and they were perfectly happy, but he knew that isolation was a mixed blessing from time to time.
He approached the bar, produced a coin pouch from his waist and slid it across the bar to the keep.
Congratulations on the new addition Jim. I hope she has her mother's looks and not your own.
A wink was his only response to the bartender's thanks and he turned back to the room to take it all in, it had been some time. It still smelled like it always had and the corner he used to occupy in his drunkard days was unchanged. A mixture of memories there, some quite scattered. He smiled all the same, subtly; and took a seat.
Marlena sighed as she thought of how her day was wasted. Despite this towns promising growth, there was little of what she was after. Maybe she would have to stick around a little longer. It was difficult not to notice the man that walked with such confidence through the bar. His size and that unique silver hair made him hard to miss too. She watched him for a few moments, intrigued before scolding herself mentally. He was not what she was looking for. Not the type she could easily scam. No. She needed idiots with money. Those that had just come into wealth and were ready to show off, the type to be blinded by their own arrogance brought on by such gains.
Seeing that everyone was otherwise engaged and other than his Chosen, no one seemed worth bothering, Grayell thought he'd save Kiga the task of collecting intel and see to it himself. He knew full well the lad would know plenty already, he always did; but what harm could come from being a little social?
And so, he ordered a tankard of ale and with it in his large mitt, he stradled a chair across the table from Marlena. He took a swig and then set the drink on the table between them, before tilting his head and giving her a look, almost as if inquisitive.
Her shoulders tense slightly and her back straightens as the man sits opposite her, but those are the only movements she makes except to turn her eyes from the crowd she watched. This figure was imposing, frighteningly so, enough that she reconsidered her plan to get up and move elsewhere, her usual tactic when bothered by someone. Instead, she chose politeness. She could make him think she was of no interest.
Grayell nodded and afforded a smile, which was at least sincere. He wasn't equipped to look like one of the usual adventurer types with more dreams than battle scars, no he was quite the opposite. There was no mistaking he'd been around and he certainly seemed comfortable enough with the crowd.
But he did smile and there was no malice or sleaziness about him as he did so. He tapped his drink instead.
Marlena. A pleasure. If you're new in town I owe you a drink. What'll it be?
Marlena was trapped in what she was sure would turn out to be a conversation about her. He had no reason to be at her table except to find out about the new person in town. She had seen him look to the beautiful woman in the shadowed corner and saw the look on his face when he did so. Even the slightest changes in expression could give away feelings. Her head turned to watch the maid walk to them, not bothering to wait for the woman to make it to the table before ordering.
Wine, please.
Her hands lifted to push the shawl back down around her shoulders, revealing long waves of blue-black hair and turning back to Grayell.
This town grows so quickly, I am surprised you have coin left to buy yourself a drink if you are buying one for every newcomer.