[M] Miscreant Misadventures OOC [Lumi & V]

[V]

Tamberly's Taproom, the sign above read with scuffed and peeling paint.

A little worn down, slightly unassuming, set back off the main thoroughfare. Seemed the correct place. Not a friendly gathering place for an evening of drinking, a place for the locals not a foreigner. The half dozen rooms upstairs were no doubt a way to get knifed if your sleep.

Discreet meetings in the afternoon away from prying eyes? Sure, it would work. Lazarn had met in places far worse.

Slammed a hand into heavy wood and the door swung inward, gloomy common opening to his eyes. On the far side a weak flame spluttered in the fireplace releasing only a paltry heat while desperately clinging to a log. A few empty booths ran along the edge, glimmers of friendly sunlight illuminating enough to show the tavern unoccupied. Relieved Lazarn strolled in to await the potential employer.

Behind the tavern bar a grimy looking fellow wiped mugs with soapy water, eyes glanced Lazarn's way with a disdainful grimace. The proprietor, Lazarn assumed, spat something on the floor and grunted, “lunch is done for the day.”

True enough, outside mid-afternoon sunlight was starting to give way to the coming night. Lazarn rested his heavy weapon against, reached into his pouch and chucked a couple coins between himself and the owner. “A beer then.” His voice was gravelly, deep enough to give a stranger pause. Watching the man lazily make the drink, Lazarn scratched his beard drawing the barkeep's eyes to his face. Look at my scars, look at my broken nose, remember I'm a fighter, he said without words.

Meekly a mug was passed his way. Lazarn snagged it up, gulped a mouthful, tasted like filth.

Lounging in a booth, eyes watching the street outside to glancing at the entrance, he waited. In a pocket the flyer for work was crumpled up, good timing Lazarn thought. Money was starting to dry up. Seemed an easy job, escort a man and goods? Never that easy, not when the client sought a meeting in a shit-hole. Mercenary work always held a nasty surprise. Lazarn didn't mind.

The front door rattled suddenly, on instinct Lazarn reached for his trusty axe.

[Lumi]

"Be discreet and meet at Tamberly's Taproom. $$$ at the drop off. Money guaranteed to ease life." -E

Slightly agitated at the lack of information on the flyer Nim sighed and folded back up and put it back in her pack. She was beginning to think that taking this job would actually be the thing that got her killed and not the debt collectors and loan sharks hunting her down. Of all the desperate naïve things she has done, this job was easily top three. But due to low supplies and even lower funds what choice did the rogue have? Of course she could hunt and sell what wasn't needed, but that would only allow for her pursuers to catch up. A job that kept her constantly on the move was the best bet, at least for now.

Tamberly's had always been known for it's discreet nature. Cleverly situated away from prying eyes, but close enough to have it's metaphorical ear to the ground. If you needed cheap booze and top secret information, you went to Tamberly's. If you were on the run and needed refuge (for the right price of course)? Tamberly's. Fake identification? Also, Tamberly's. No one questioned anybody and everyone kept to themselves- for the most part.

Coming up on the entrance Nim took the chance to observe. A fight had happened recently as she could still see remnants of glass littering the ground, a couple scuffs and grooves along the masonry, and one of the doors slightly off it's hinge. Lucky she spotted a few coins underneath the foliage of the only- crushed greenery outside the establishment. Either the taproom received a new proprietor, or the landscaper did a terrible job at repair. The few times she's been here the tavern had a somewhat decent amount of pride at maintaining it's upkeep. Then again those visits were few and far between.

As she was putting the coins in her pocket she heard a faint "A beer then," coming from inside. She hoped it was her new employer, as the usual rowdiness that came from the tavern was strangely absent. Looking up at the sky she could only assume that even the worst drunk hiding away or on a job. Before entering the rogue made sure her face covering and daggers were secure. Pushing through the double doors and her eyes snapped directly towards the only patron at their sudden movement towards their weapon. That axe has seen action and she'd rather not go up against an opponent before even meeting her employer, especially not one that had the capability and ease to use such a heavy weapon.

Narrowing her eyes, Nim made her own reach for her weapons. "You are 'E', no?"

[V]

Gripping the axe shaft he watched the newcomer, moving with purpose but seemed light on their feet. He sought her eyes, briefly noting the long scar; a fighter then. The veil gave him pause, they could have any emotion hidden away from sight. An intense moment full of a thousand thoughts, instinct almost giving way to action when her hands reached for hidden weapons.

Instead Lazarn paused with her words, "You are 'E', no?"

With caution Lazarn snaked a hand to a pocket, shuffled around a moment and produced a ball of paper. Unfurling the paper he threw it face up beside the half drank beer. The flyer, ripped from a lamp post the other side of town. The abrupt request written in large enough text to be read from a distance, Lazarn glanced to it a moment, reading it again.

After a moment to break tension his hand left the axe, reaching for the mug instead. Would taste no better than earlier, just wanted to moment to relax. Perhaps he was not being discreet.

"Nope, reckon we're seeking the same thing," Lazarn keeping the same gritty tone given to the barkeep earlier. Making a show of relaxing into his both leaning back comfortably to examine her again. Different skill set to his, surely, more sneaky. Made him nervous.

Wouldn't have been the first time an employer sought multiple people. Good experiences, and less so, flashed memories in his mind. Moments of quick betrayal, twinkles of strange kindness, never knew what to expect. Not wanting to dwell, he drowned the remaining swill.

"Don't know where this E is, not here yet," he grunted, "job sounds too good and easy, ay?"

[Lumi]

Nim kept her gaze firmly on the only other person at or in the bar. Every once in a while her eyes would minutely shift around the room, scoping her surroundings. The bar owner had retired to the kitchen as soon as she walked in, which she could only assume was to start prep for the evening rush. Her gaze returned to the axe wielding patron and watched as her pulled out a suspiciously familiar piece of paper. Relaxing, Nim took her hands away from her weapons and reached into her own pack to pull out the same flyer and unfolded it.

She approached him and payed her flyer down next to his. The ink on his looked smudged, the handwriting looked a bit sloppier too. It was rushed, meaning that whatever it was they were to guard was of some type of importance. Both flyers however contained the same amount of information so nothing further could be gleaned.

“Sounds that way, yes. Looks that way, no looks way worse. A frustrating lack of information, absolutely.”

She sat down on a stool next to the one that was on his right. Needing to take the load off her feet as the two of them waited for their employer. Never has she worked with anyone else on her previous jobs, they all required stealth and speed among all other things. Hopefully this job could be efficient with this new two man team and most of all discreet. Last thing she needed right now was an even bigger target on her back.

“I am known as Nim. You are?”

[V]

Glancing between the two pieces of parchment, sure enough looked the exact same. He found himself nodding along to her assessment, adding, "always have to know the details before signing on."

Seemed that was enough for a truce, the potential future companion taking a stool nearby. Absolutely not enough for camaraderie with a seat between the pair, which Lazarn could only agree with. She introduced herself as Nim. Lazarn had never heard the name before, couldn't gleam any information from the whispers and rumours he'd heard. Rogue? Or maybe assassin?

Lazarn could have lied, could have spoken alias, could keep himself discreet. Instead, "my name's Lazarn. Just a mercenary." It was quite unhelpful information, the man was new to the city with most of his work elsewhere. Only a lengthy stint as a caravan guard had brought him within that walls.

Silence spread from him as he brooded over the flyer. Eyes glancing between words and the door. A stillness seemed to be spreading outside with even the foot traffic slowly to a crawl. Lazarn sought the window, shuffling closer to gaze through the murky glass. A couple locals wandered about, yet it seemed too quiet.

"Doesn't seem right," he muttered.

[Lumi]

"Nothing about this day seems right..." Nim trailed off as she continued looking at the two flyers. Her sentiments were true despite the two possibly talking about two entirely different things, but that concerned her not as she tried to make sense of the work that the two of them had picked up. Considering the work the both of them do she knew the both of them were discreet to a degree- they had to be. But avoid all instinct could only mean one thing. Survival was put at risk due to low funds. At this point money was her only problem in the world and she was starting to curse its invention. Trade seemed so much easier.

Her gaze wandered down to the signature on each of the flyers. "Indeed something is not right." The 'E's were spaced in a strange manner. Taking both in her hands Nim held them up to the dim candle light and sure enough a faint outline of den verest appeared. She sighed and put them back down, she was definitely going to get herself something strong to drink after their meeting and unwind. This had better not be a scam.

"It appears our employer goes by the name of Eden Everest."

The quite atmosphere suddenly seemed to erupt into a cacophony of noise. The sound of shouting, boots against pavement, and clanking metal could be heard from outside. She could pick up 'disturbance,' 'drunk,' 'same half-elf' from the shouts. Whoever had the guard on alert and on the move sounded like they had to be a menace.

"Should we go?" she asked Lazarn as the noise died down.

[V]

"Never heard of them," Lazarn grunted. Eyes flashing over to the masked companion, an unasked question dying on his lips moments later with the eruption of outside noise. His eyes drawn immediately to the commotion. A group of armoured guardsmen, their cursing pricked his ears to attention. A count of five rushed by the window, followed by a halt from the captain. They sent one of the company back up the street to collect another squad.

A pause followed Lim's question, the mercenary had a flash of realization. The masked acquaintance had already accepted the job, if not officially. Her question was almost asking if Lazarn was invested, was his own money so dire?

Hand finding the hefty war axe nearby, he spoke,"worth seeing what's got them so riled up." Who knew when another request for his talents would be posted.

~

Out in the street the pair witnessed the guards rush around a corner further up. The strangely absent streets made tailing the local law enforcement not too difficult. A familiar sound caught the merc's ears, ahead the guards started shouting to people on the street. People were flooding an area, some came crashing from the entrance to another drinking den. The guards tried pushing through the masses, cursing this half-elf.

It looked like a wild brawl inside. A particular half-elf seemed the center of attention.

"Not getting through that," he said to Lim, driven by a mix of curiosity and a little restlessness from the failed meeting, without a thought as to why they would want to.

Gesturing skyward Lazarn pointed out a balcony on the side, empty with a nice open door. Out of reach for himself, "think you'd be able to get through that. I'll see if they have a door in the back."