Elenore
The sun shone high in the sky, glaring downwards on the Miller Daliens milling about and daling in the streets. A pink haired moon fae woman strode anxiously through the crowded area. A bag with a newly purchased item inside of it, and a sword at her hip slowing her progress. She wanted to escape from the bustle and sip tea or something along those lines in a quiet space. That sounded rather nice yes. The heat was getting to her and making her irritable, her green flowing tension sprite in his usual lunar moth form followed behind. Lapping up the worries and doubts that lingered thick in the air of this place.
 Luna noticed the people lessening and stepped out of the way from a passing cart.
 She was on the north side of town, and she could see a spectacular view of the river. Looking around she saw a large and well kept looking establishment. Smiling pleased with herself she made a beeline for the entrance.
Ramon
It was Haasmir, the tall one horned tiefling, that moved like water through the Merchant's Road towards the Fox and Flagon counting their coins. An astute barterer, the tiefling always got the best deal when selling the loot and plunder from the travels of the Brethren. Dark indigo scales and grey eyes scanned over the denizens of the Dale, the gentle brooks and the bright sun made the tiefling miss the mountains. Everything down here was far to bright for their liking. They jingled the gold until they spied their leader perusing sharpening stones with a local blacksmith. 

"They are not going to have anything to sharpen that axe, Chief." They smiled and looked over the weapon Vaakha Bruska had tied to her back. "You should have it appraised by a real, no offense Sir, weaponsmith. I doubt anyone had seen this *Steel?* In centuries."
Trena
Vaakha ran her enormous hands over the stones on offer. The tiefling was right, of course she'd never admit to it, the great axe was special and deserved a knowledgeable smith. She growled through her fangs and swung the axe from her shoulder and turned the black bladed bit in the sunlight. What was this material? And why were those *Cultists* So keen on preventing her from taking it?

"I need a drink." She hung the axe back on her back and turned from the stall. 

"Now, that is something I can help you with. The doc is filling up on herbs and the twins are" Haasmir twirled their wrist, "Doing twin things. Come. Taverns this way."

Vaakha watched the tiefling sashay their way though the street to the Fox and Flagon Inn. The half orc, half goliaths size made her entrance into the tavern a spectacle in itself as she blocked the sunlight from the open door as she bent underneath to enter. Stares. How she abhorred them, their flittering eyes moving from her feet to face only to shy away from fang and green eyes that bore into anyone that looked too long. Trips to the marketplace were rare, the rumors of the Cursed brethren were rife, but proof of their exploits were rare. Heavy footsteps brought her to a long table and she sat while Haasmir brought the ale.

"The twins better hurry." She spat on the floor and took the mug. 

"Oh dear," Haasmir laughed. "You really don;t think he'd be foolish enough to run again. You shoudl snap his leg and be done with it." Haasmir had a knack for walking the line with the Chief when no one else was around. "Or find yourself a new pet."
Debra
*A far cry from the comfortable chill of the mountains overhead, the Miller Dale was irritably warm. It's landscape many shades greener than the sparse trees and grasses at higher altitudes, flowing rivers brought a vibrancy that Gitroki had only seen a couple times before. Thankfully, only the heat was unpleasant around these parts. His walk through town was met with many hellos from strangers, of which he returned curtly, a little caught off-guard. Even the Firebeards, with their love of coin and those who part with it, weren't this friendly to outsiders.*

"Queer fellows, but nice enough... Seein' why the Kingsfolk take a liking to 'em."
*He muttered to himself with a chuckle, beginning to put away his crossbow as the street narrowed. The tavern he was heading to was already crowded, but many made an effort to let him through - not that he would've stopped if they hadn't; he was more of a boulder than any of the normal-heighted folks here. All sorts of patrons were present, a cornucopia of races familiar and unfamiliar. 

The 'tieflings' - or 'demonkin' to his enclave - were of most interest, for there was only around four in the entire establishment. Few elves and a good number of dwarves, but they stood out far less. Taking one of the open round tables, somewhere in the middle of the room, Gitroki barked for a flagon of whiskey, and after a small argument with the bartender about it being a mug and not a shot, he once more pulled out his crossbow, slowly cleaning and inspecting it.*
"Findin' some new fellows'd be good. Report's starting to look stale..."
Joanne
*The doors of the entranceway part as light pours in from the cracked opening. A small figure, faintly illuminating the dimly lit tavern as she walks in begins to look around. Her footstep made no sounds, leaving a glittering patch of light everywhere she walks. With her pale blue eyes scanning across the entire room, they would eventually land on the loud group that belonged to the cursed brethren. Her wings subtly fluttered as she held her hands close to her chest, walking into the room and towards the bar nervously. She seemed curiously intrigued by the liquor, almost as if she had never seen any alcohol before. Her gold plated accessories and silk dress just drew attention to the fact that she was possibly quite wealthy, but her white wings, floating halo, and the subtle glow that encompassed her body made it apparent that she was much more than just a simple noblewoman. Her eyes eventually fell upon Gitroki, smiling as she looks over to him. She approaches him much more confidently than the way she entered the room, seeming comforted by his small size since she herself was also quite short.*

**"This is a very interesting place... I was told this is where people looking for work would often come, is that true mister? Is it normal for people to come here alone?"**

*Angelica tilts her head as she questions him, wings fluttering and eventually resting at her side. Her clothing was quite strange... Wearing absolutely no shoes or socks but not seeming bothered by it at all. Almost immediately however, Gitroki's magic sense was tingling. She was absolutely radiating mana at an unnatural rate, almost as if her magic just refused to stay in her body and was continuously oozing out.*
Elenore
Rai'lunathria was more than a little disappointed by how busy the tavern ended up being once she slipped inside. Deftly avoiding clonking thinks with her scabbard in a practiced way. She saw a flicker of green light flash away into the room and shook her head. Resolving her self through the annoyance and striding up past shady looking individuals and loud patrons and guests drinking. *At least it was clean.*
 Hefting her bag she flopped it down onto the bar with a *Thunk* Of metal and leather inside and that got the innkeeps attention, and a glance from a tiefling with the most lustrous purple blue tinted... Skin? Possibly... Scales? She had ever seen. He looked like the bandit type and she averted her eyes almost at once. Could never be too careful as an elf traveling alone. *Even if you were handy with a blade* It was almost a month now for her on the road. She had learned much and lost much too. Hopefully soon she would be able to find easier passage or if possible a boat traveling down the serpentine to *Islefield.* She returned back to reality from the daze and shined a dazzling manipulating elf smile towards the barkeep.
"I would like to have a cup of hot tea. Could i also please have it brought to my table?"

"Firstly lass, Nor. Do I look like a damned delivery mule to ye?" He spoke gruffly, and in a no nonsense manner. Which Luna could respect.
"Second, this is a bar. I've ale, wine, spirits and water. I'm sure the markets out~"
 
"I'll have a wine then. Something sweet and light." She placed a gold coin upon the counter which she thought should be enough for a bottle.. Right? And stepped away taking her bag with her. 
"I will have it brought to me."
 Luna spoke this in her most perfected aristocratic voice she had picked up working on royal accounts and listening in on gossip and drama of the courts and different elvish houses. 
She found herself a nice corner table and took a seat with her back to the wall, nice and alone and not as quiet as she would

Have liked but it would be good to release pent up tension and drink a bit. She pulled her cloak around over the exposing top she wore. Hoping to avoid unwanted attentions.
Ramon
Haasmir looked around the ever filling tavern with a sly, dragon like smile, their indigo skin crinkling at their lip spread open. "There is plenty here to keep us occupied, for a few days at least." Their eyes wondered to the slight peony haired elf that flittered by with a pouch of gold.

"Lone travelers, to think there is still those wandering around the mountains alone." Haasmir licked their lips and turned to the crowd. A dwarf cleaning their weapon and a bright white haired girl daring to interrupt the task. "You know, if you were of the female persuasion, we could take that..."
Trena
Vaakha slammed a fist on the table. "I am not looking for another pet Haasmir." The sudden thump made the tiefling jump and clipped their tongue. 

"Apologies, my Khal." Haasmir bowed their head. "I was just trying to lift your spirits. It's a long way to Rougemont, I just thought it would cheer you up."

Vaakha was not of the female persuasion, unlike Haasmir who took their joy from wherever they could find it. Mostly watching Vaakha torment Blight. "Bruna needs to return to the dwarven keep. Some caste thing," Vaakha took another long pull from her mug of ale. "Some caste business. They may even buy some of our goods. Or at least part with a drum of whiskey." 

Vaakha had neither love of hatred for the mountain dwarves and had, from time to time, been employed by them to clear the deep roads of monsters and bandits. The fray. That is where Vaakha Bruska was most comfortable. Not in a small tavern house surrounded by soft, delicate, beauty. Her eyes spied the pink haired elf and she felt that bubbling bile in her stomach churn. Beauty. It made her blood boil.
Debra
*The wall of mana hit the marksman first, cursing in Dwarvish from the raw energy. Unlike magic converted and refined in spells, mana was far less easy to sense, its presence diffusing into the surrounding air like ash upon the wind. But a wildfire could blot out the sun, and such was the same with the young lady before him.

His eyes narrowed from his initial impression, Gitroki took a moment to examine the stranger. Her frame was thin, ethereal, the brilliant wings on her back seeming to support her instead of the opposite. Her face was gentle, unscarred by conflict or strife... His suspicious expression dropped almost immediately, eyes wide in shock as his gloves were removed, hands clasped in reverence.*

"By Nonika's shield... Are you of the Divine, young lass...?"

*His words were a whisper, blurting out a piece of information that immediately revealed his true alliegance unthinkingly - though he cared little at this point. Unlike the blasphemous Firebeards, who worshipped their ancestry in their narcissism, the Ironhammers had stayed true to the Gods - or the Divine, as they were all aspects of a greater force. Gitroki was no exception, his devotion being one of the ways he had ingratiated himself with the human settlements around the mountains.

His attention was grasped for a moment by the goliath and her Demonkin companion, the rumble from her fists making him wince slightly. Even the hardiest dwarven berserker could barely keep up with those pale-skinned warriors, of whom Gitroki reserved much respect for. That would have to wait, however, as he watched Angelica with timid anticipation.*