Heather
Marsila Vema
Vallen, Taemar

She was relieved when her plan worked through the art of bribery though couldn't help feel slight pity towards the man when he began to out himself as a liar. "I'm hoping to leave immediately. The sooner we ride, the sooner we arr-" Her reply was cut short when a female began to voice her opinion from behind, causing Marsila to turn her shoulder for a better visual towards the stranger. Raising her brow, she felt slightly annoyed in regards to the doubtful woman, hoping Arin wouldn't suddenly feel the need to stay behind. However Marsila was positive they would find the owl-griffen. They said shifters were supposed to be extinct yet here she was. 

"You might be right. There might no longer be any Owl-Griffen's left in existence but a wild goose chase is a lot better than sitting in this shit hole. I will be paying this man either way for his troubles, is that such an issue?" She questioned while lightly tugging the right rein so Romia would turn to face the stranger. Marsila's eyes observed the woman, finding that her appearance gave very little information on what type of a person she was. "Besides, what if the information I've been given turns out to be correct?"

She had felt the confidence in Danico when he explained to her about the Owl-Griffen. When it came to reading people, Marsila had no issue in understanding their emotions even though she had little control over her own. Nudging Romia towards the woman, Marsila lowered her hand towards her as a gesture for her to join them in their adventure. "Why don't you join us so I can prove how incredibly wrong you are about their exctinction. We could even make a bet out of it."
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

*You look as though you'd sing wonderfully.* Kallophon chuckled. "Aye, so I hear. All thanks are to my dear mother for that 'lyrical' name. And what's yours?"

When he had his answer and heard Jazzy's comment, he smirked knowingly. "I know what you mean with all-too-terrible familiarity, Jazzy." He leaned onto the table and simpered at the Azaryan. "I hear a telling accent. You're from that strange corner up north. You aren't going to try and bewitch me with your dark, sordid magic, are you?"
Kathleen
Jazzy
The burning thimble? Vallen.

As Kallophon leaned closer and spoke, Jazzy made a point to carefully place a ringed hand on his lap, hidden from sight. While his face was rather calm and showed no emotion less than playful, his head was another matter. *Magic. Fucking magic.* He thought. Surely someone could ask him about Azaryan jewel imports and clothing merchants for once instead?

But he wasn't going to let that spoil the whole night, so he took another drink and flashed his teeth at Kallophon with impish mischief in his eyes,"I have many bewitching and sordid things about me, Kallophon of Milo, but I assure you they're nothing more than traits of my charming personality."

He looked into the young man's dark eyes, wondering what secrets and stories he could pull from them."Though, I'm sure dear Imogen would disagree. What was it she said? *Nothing good comes from the tavern this late*?"
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burning Thistle*, Vallen

Kallophon wondered which way this encounter was going to go. Normally, with these deep-night affairs, he was afraid of falling in love with someone who would only lead his heart and spirit to ruin. Upon further contemplation, however, he got the feeling that this fellow was only looking for a bit of repartee. That, he had no problem indulging. 

"Mm. Imogen says a lot of things," He affirmed. He eyed the hog mask in his lap, obscured beneath his lyre strings, with a pang of indignation. He cast his eyes around the room. "People sink into the depths of their drunkenness. The heart - jolly, fiery, or gloomy - usurps the crafty head." He laughed wryly behind his lips. "I'd sink myself deeper too, but, unfortunately, I haven't many coins left, and I need to be careful lest my earlier venture for patronage proves unfruitful. 

"Anyway–as I'm sure you can tell, I'm a 'child of the rising sun', as it were." He nodded towards the east. "Not that evil place where they torture noblewomen. The fairer place north of that."
Kathleen
Jazzy
The burning title? Vallen

*The depths of their drunkeness*. Well, Jazzy did not feel like he deserved that little call out tonight. He was rather sober for once. Though, sobriety was a little different for him. A lot different. He wasn't sober at all really. 

"Well, darlin', if you want something a little stronger than this watered-down ale, I'm willing to share." He spoke, voice a little lower than before, almost conspiratorial. He wasn't sure of the laws on drugs in Taemar but he didn't want to catch himself on the wrong side of the law. Again.

Listening to him talk about where he came from, Jazzy flashed another smile,"Terresol? You're far from home aren't you?"
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

Kallophon had raised a palm and given a gentle 'I'm alright' to Jazzy's offer. He'd been in circles like Jazzy's often enough to know what the man meant, and he had no interest in indulging in any substances like that. Not for now, at least. Then he'd gone on to talk about his origins.

*You're far from home aren't you?* "I am. I miss my homeland, of course, but I needed time abroad. Primarily to avoid the plague, of course, but also to get a better sense of the greater world. I wiggled my way into King Gregor's dinnertime entertainment so that I could show myself off to some potential patrons amongst the royal elite."
Kathleen
Jazzy
It's definitely The Burnt Thimble. Vallen

The young lord almost frowned when the other refused his offer, he had almost been looking forward to see how his new friend would act with some poppy in his system. Still, it wasn't like he could change the other's mind.

Amusement flickered over his features as he idly rubbed something into his gums, trying to make it look natural as he listened to Kallophon,"In the laps of the rich you'll learn nothing," He assured him as he reached over to touch the boy's shoulder, accidentally brushing over the nape of his neck."What will you learn that you can share without fear of death? Who a queen slept with? The pedigree of the great pirate king?"

Jazzy was giggling now as his hand fell back on the table."The poor is where you will find your tunes. They are what will lead you to a more worldly life."
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

Kallophon pouted unconvincedly. "In a way, yes. I've spent my fair share of time around the more rustic folk, and they've provided a wealth of material and inspiration. I'm not a lordsblood myself, nor am I still connected to my wealthy inheritance. I am myself a common man.

He shook a hand. "I digress. I'm not looking for 'tunes', as it were. I want to know these people for who they are. I don't care about adultery or other petty scandals of that sort. I want to see the significant threads. War, murder, truly raging love. Most of these things pass into the common consciousness eventually, but I want to record and express these things as they truly happened, without any twisting, and with minimal assuming."