Eileen
Tilting her head to the side, Faelyth's hair fell into her face slightly, only causing the shadows created by the candle between them to shape her face even more. Her expression wasn't one of irritation anymore, but one of simple intrigue. She had taken note of his purchase, a room for both of them perhaps or just her? After all he likely had a home of his own. Whatever the case, Faelyth would be staying her for the night, though whether or not if she'd be alone would remain to be seen. Picking up the tankard, Faelyth began to rotate it idly in her hand, her eyes finally able to take in the grizzled face before her more than before. He was likely doing the same, based on his stare, but she didn't mind. Hiding her face wasn't always a priority as an assassin.

"Edvard. Hm." Faelyth let the name roll of her tongue slow, almost as if she were testing its flavor. It was definitely a name fit for a knight, that much was certain. "Its a handsome name, I'll say. Matches its owner." Another sly attempt at flirting, but it wouldn't last long. Flattery was simply in her nature, and Faelyth quickly changed the subject as Edvard had given her advances a clear answer. "Your armor tells me you're a knight of Alynthi, not a sellsword. With such a rugged look, I might believe royal guard, perhaps Shield Guardians?" It was innocent enough conversation, perhaps it could even be turned into a game between them.
Clara
*Edvard broke his stare as soon as their eyes met, focusing now on the tankard of ale. He hated drinking. Like Rikard said, you drink to lose focus. To get rowdy. To get wild. To wrestle an Orc on the bar and fuck her later. Edvard wasn't the type. Perhaps Rikard would've enjoyed the drink, but Edvard simply stared down towards it, suspicious of its contents. He didn't need to forget the pain in his life. No respite was permanent. Temporary solace was worse than no solace. Gripping the mug with his armored glove, he quickly flung it backwards, sliding it down towards a lucky patron down the way of the bar. A cheery thanks rung through Edvard's ears soon after. He didn't care. He didn't drink. Faelyth didn't seem too, either. No man, nay, woman in their right mind picks up a tankard without taking a sip. She was doing this one purpose. She was a thief, after all. They knew their ways around the human mind more than anyone else. Each movement is planned, like a noble playing a game of chess or ur. Everything means something, yet nothing means anything. Its all mind games. He chuckled softly at her flirt, finding them funnier each time. They were starting to grow on him, in a way.*

"Faelyth. Hm." *Edvard imitated the moves of the girl, attempting to divert the conversation from his occupation. It wasn't a secret, per se, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the thief knowing he had direct access to the king at all times.* "A name that matches someone of your ilk. It's a compliment, believe me." *Edvard chuckled softly, shaking his head. He wasn't one to flirt. She was pretty, but not prettier than his Findaran songbird. At least, his memory of her. He couldn't really see her face anymore. He remembered those first nights in Alynthi. Left awake at the witching hour, his mind occupied with every inch of her face. It was all blurred now. Faelyth, on the other hand, was right in front of him. He could see her face. And see it, he did.*

"Your armor, or lack thereof, tells me you aren't a knight nor a sellsword. It also tells me you aren't a thief. Thieves don't wear clothes that well made. You weren't stealing out of necessity. Boredom, perhaps? Color me intrigued."
Eileen
Rolling her eyes at Edvard practically throwing a way a drink she had paid for for him, the dark elf shook her head as she stared off into the tavern. Her eyes followed lazily with other patrons, even though there were only a handful. Hearing the knight chuckle caused Faelyth to dart her eyes back his way, a bored stare now meeting his own. It was obvious Edvard was laughing at her flirting, but she paid it no real mind. A flirtatious person was what Faelyth had always been. Whether it got her anywhere or not didn't matter much to her, she was just that way regardless. Edvard's talk of her name and 'ilk' however caused the dark elf to sneer a sarcastic smile.

"My ilk." Faelyth muttered under her breath. Was he speaking of her race? Or perhaps his assumption about her profession. Edvard had her pinned as a thief, but that wasn't the case. Not entirely, at least. Faelyth's thoughts were paused however as he spoke about her as she did him. So, he no longer believed her a thief. The assassin rolled her tongue into her cheek as she shook her head, and nearly started chuckling at the knight's words. "I wonder, are all knights of Alynthi this intelligent?" Setting her tankard down once more, Faelyth clasped her hands and fingers together as she leaned in a bit.
.

"I'm an assassin. Pure bred of course. I kill for money. That poor man was nearly a goner until you walked up. His cat put a hit out on him." As she began her sentence, Faelyth's expression was bright and full of life, frowns and smiles of telling a story blanketed her face before her entire expression dulled. "No, I am not a thief. Did you ever think perhaps I'm someone of importance that you've been disrespecting all this time? Ooo, perhaps I'm a spymaster for the king, or even just a spy sent by a neighboring kingdom. I very seriously doubt you'll ever find out, love." With a wink, Faelyth took the last drink of her tankard before setting it to the side of their shared table.

Stretching her arms over her head, the dark elf leaned back into her chair. Perhaps the game she was playing would land her in trouble, or maybe he'd find her words hard to believe. She *Was* An assassin, a deadly one with over a hundred lived under her belt. *A Sister of Salvation.* This would likely end in one of two ways; Edvard would wholeheartedly believe her words of being an assassin, or be fooled into thinking she was simply running her mouth. Either way, it would end in amusing Faelyth, the one thing she wanted the entire time.

*Would it be through a fight, or perhaps knowing she fooled someone as steely and strong as he?*
Clara
"You'd be surprised. Most of the knights of Alynthi are far too busy with lust or ego than intelligence. Disgraces, if you ask me."

*Edvard never liked sharing personal details, but was always up to share his opinions. And, from the few knights he had interacted with, he was truly ashamed. It was disgusting to him. He was no shining example of a knight, but he still tried to uphold the motivations of his late master. The others, however, were far more concerned with sex and looking intimidating than they ever were with glory or honor. Protecting the realm seemed a secondary motivation, one trumped by their own personal desires. A knight was meant to be a faceless warrior of justice and righteousness, right? What was Edvard to do when the people looked up to the egotistical barbarians on the guard instead of the proper knights? He was reminded once more of Findara. A nation rife with problems, but one where the knights were noble. He gave up on shame at this point, returning Faelyth's stare. She wasn't much of an eye-sore, anyways. He chuckled slightly as she spoke, choosing to gloss over her job description.*

"Ah yes, because spymasters are known to proposition random knights with sex. Trust me, I'm not one they'd seek to test. Ask any other knight on the guard and they'd be in your bed before you could even blink. No-one of importance would waste their time on someone like me. I'm not the fool you take me for." 

*Edvard shrugged softly, his mind going over Faelyth's self-proclaimed line of work. It brought him anger at first, but he settled down rather quickly. There was little point in worrying about how someone ended up dead. Edvard killed people for money as well. He just had different motivations. He killed for money and justice, while Faelyth killed only for money. And pleasure, he assumed. She seemed to the type to enjoy the slaughter. Didn't matter much at the end of the day. Doesn't matter why you kill someone. They end up in the same place anyways.*
Eileen
In truth, Faelyth was satisfied that she had fooled the knight with her direct confession, but she of course couldn't read his mind. A snide smile appeared across her face before she leaned in, her elbow on the table as her chin rested in a flat palm. "Oh come now, I don't believe you're a fool. I do believe however that you are selling yourself short. Any woman or man for that matter drools over the shining knights of Alynthi. I've yet to have one myself of course, but you can't blame a girl for trying. I seem to have found the only *Eunuch.*" Her smile faded once more, and with her drink now gone the dark elf had become bored yet again.

"So, if I'm not a spymaster or someone of importance, not a thief, does that leave assassin?" Tapping a finger to her lip, her expression changed to one of ponder. "Hmm... But wouldn't that mean you're obligated, as a knight of course, to arrest me? Hang me for my crimes?" Faelyth's colorful eyes flashed back to Edvard, her words filled with a playful venom. "Oh, but words can only go so far, yes? You'd have to have proof of course." Tilting her head to the side, strands of her silvery, gray hair fell lazily over her eyes. Any knight would be inclined to arrest someone of her 'ilk', but not without proper cause.

*The words of a drunken woman were of course not ones you could stand by.* What with being a royal guard of Alynthi and all. "Yes, I've killed many." Raising her hand, Faelyth garnered the attention of the barkeep before he hurried over and offered another full and frothing tankard. Downing nearly half the liquid, Faelyth threw her eyes up to the ceiling. "Oh, I hope the gods can forgive me."
Clara
"I'm no eunuch. I just think with my head upstairs, not the one downstairs. Logic is a knight's best asset." 

*Edvard sighed softly, shaking his head as she continued to press her profession to him. It was almost as if she was begging for arrest. Humiliation, he assumed. She intended to press his ideals of justice and honor against him. Make him look a fool in his own kingdom. It wasn't the smartest of moves. Little did she know he wasn't that great of a knight. Frankly, he didn't care enough to even ponder arresting her. All he wanted was a good night's sleep. He'd probably have to lock his door. Maybe barricade it. Keep her sly fingers from intruding at the witching hour. Psh. He didn't sleep anyways. Hadn't in years. The dark bags under his eyes were proof enough. No need to even lock the door. He knew he'd just end up sitting on his bed all night, staring straight at the wall. Still, Faelyth continued telling him she was an assassin. Her act was beginning to annoy the knight. He almost felt the urge to arrest her and bring her upstairs. Toss her in the room he had bought for her and barricade the door. Lock her up and throw away the key. It was all so tiring. So, so tiring.*

"My only obligation is to protect the realm. I don't think hanging a drunk girl for her supposed crimes is helping anyone. Waste of rope, anyway. I wouldn't bet on the gods forgiving you. Damned creatures remember everything, you know. They'd sooner fall on their divine swords than forgive anyone." 

*Edvard muttered, turning to the barkeep. He slid him a silver, and in a few seconds, was handed a mug. Water, this time. Dehydration came fast when you wear fifty pounds of plate armor at all times. He softly raised the tankard to his lips, taking a few small sips. It wasn't cold, but it'd do. Water was all the same, cold or not. He felt the urge to stand up and leave the conversation entirely, but he knew all that awaited him was waiting for the dawn. Might as well do something for now.*
Eileen
"But did you not just say any knight would bed me in a heart beat? Sounds like logic is *Your* Best friend, not theirs." Giggling to herself, Faelyth ran a finger around the rim of her tankard idly, the conversation between them only growing more interesting with each word. Scanning over Edvard's face, the dark elf's eyes seemed to almost glow with playfulness. He looked as tired as she would expect from a man so unbelievably dull. Dull yes, but still somehow an interesting individual. Faelyth wished to dissect him. See what made him tick. Something must have caused him to turn so bitter. Perhaps a lost child? Maybe he killed someone who was innocent?

"Oh I'm not drunk yet. You take me for a lightweight? Off of this piss?" Taking another swig, Faelyth tilted her head towards Edvard curiously. Perhaps she could further this and see him be humiliated. "Supposed crimes they are not. In fact, I'll tell you the tale of how I ran my blade across an infants throat." Where playfulness once resided in her eyes, now it was sinister intent. Leaning back into her seat, Faelyth took in a deep sigh before beginning her tale. "I took the contract up from the father of the child himself. His wife, a cheating whore and nothing more, had managed to get pregnant, the entire time the father believing the child was his."

Bringing a hand to the neck of her cloak, she reached in only to bring out a long blue form; a sapphire viper. Its scales the same color as the aforementioned jewel accompanied by pure white. It gently coiled itself around Faelyth's hand before peering over at the knight, a blue tongue flicking out curiously for his scent. The dark elf tilted her head lovingly at her companion before continuing, "The mother carried the child until it was born, only to realize that when mixing races, the child will take after both parents, not only the mother." Looking back toward Edvard, a smile appeared on her face. "I suppose that's what the mother gets for fucking a tiefling.

Not the smartest thing for a half-elf to do, hm?"
.

"At first, the father believed the infant was born from a curse, something the mother did her best to ensure he stayed believing. Nevertheless, the father wished to be rid of the child thinking it would curse their family for eternity, causing the mother to tell him the truth once and for all. Let's just say, *He was less than pleased.*" Faelyth let out a laugh before shaking her head, the tale she was retelling more than true. It was only up to Edvard to believe it. "The father then placed a hit on the child's head, only a few months old. He offered a pretty penny too, something that bought me plenty of nice jewels. Nicer than that man outside was offering."

Flicking her eyes to her surroundings, spinning such a tale forced Faelyth to be aware of them. A smile remained on her face, it was obvious the point of sleeping with the knight was long gone. Now she only wished to get under his skin. See what made him tick, and what would break him in the end. "The father was very helpful. Made sure the mother remained preoccupied while I did my work. Snuck in at night and ran a blade across its screaming throat. It. Ha, funny I don't even remember its gender.." Frowning in thought, Faelyth looked away from the knight before finishing her second drink.

All bets were off.
Clara
*Edvard sat in silence, the slight smile on his face washing away in a mixture of dread, disgust, and pain. Evil. And to think he had pegged her for a simple thief. He knew now. She was no thief. She was a monster. He had thought an assassin and a knight were similar. But they weren't. No knight would ever slice an innocent child's throat. No true knight, that is. His eyes seemed to transform into sunken holes of darkness, shadows cast over his irises as he emanated a sense of complete and utter dread mixed with a hint of rage. His hand seemed to float down to the handle of his sword. He fiddled with the blue cloth wrapped around the cross-guard, reading to cut the woman down in an instant. He wouldn't be reprimanded for it. Only the gods know how many people have been killed by the knights of Alynthi for far less. Yet, he stopped himself. He gazed down towards the bar for a moment, before raising his hand away from his sword and into the air, flagging down the bartender. He slipped him another stag, and in return, was handed a tankard of ale. He stared into the brown liquid for just a moment, before he forced a smile onto his face, choking a hearty laugh as he took a sip.*

"Can't blame you for that. Dirty demon half-breed if you ask me. Did Alynthi a service. Glad I won't have to put that hellspawn in jail myself. Stopped a a crime before it happened. You're more honorable than most knights I know." *He chuckled heartily, his mind screaming as he drowned out the rage in a wash of alcohol.*

*Quietly, he flagged down the bartender once more, whispering into his ear to request a paper and quill. They arrived shortly. He kept his faux smile, turning to Faelyth with a false expression of joy cast upon his face.* "You mind smiling? Gonna jot down your portrait. I'm no artist, but it'll suffice. I'll present it to the guard. Make sure you're never stopped or hassled again. Least I can do for a pretty lass such as yourself."

*He sighed softly, no venom imprinted in his speech. He had to do something. Her name and her description should be enough. He knew he couldn't do anything now. She wanted him to react. She wanted him to try and cut her down. He supposed she removed the viper to kill him upon making the first move he could. All he could think of was the hatred brewing in his mind. He imagined her feet dangling from the rope, her neck cracked in five places from the gallows. It was what she deserved. To take an innocent life at the behest of a bigoted father. It was unjust. It was immoral.*

**It was evil.**

*He quickly looked back and forth from Faelyth to the paper, trying his best to draw her face and notable features. It wasn't anything more than a rough sketch, but he was sure there was someone he could go to. Some artist he could work with. Someone or something could be down. He wasn't just going to sit there and do nothing, but he wasn't going to kill himself immediately. There was justice to be served. Nothing would be done if he stood to face her now, and he knew it. For the moment, he just had to say the right things and try to play into her hand. Do whatever she wanted. What little dignity he had left he was willing to spare. Vengeance would be brought to that poor child. If the gods were to ever do something right, they'd do it know. He mentally prayed to Otis, begging him to spare him from any misfortune in the coming days. He hadn't asked him for anything in a decade. He'd followed his will perfectly. He could only pray. Pray and wait.*