<b><span style="font-size: 18px">Beldabar's Rest - Inn under the Fishyard</span></b><br/><br/>Nock's job is important, and Ixana ferries him a mug of one of his favorite beverages as he's working.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)">"Making progress, huh?"</span>She doesn't really know much about shackles, straps, harnesses and other instruments of bondage, so she'll just trust Nock is making progress.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)">"Things seem to be going well!"</span><br/><br/>About that time there is a knock on the door, so Ixana heads to answer it. She has changed into city clothes, of course, no reason to wear all that armor around town, after all. The new outfit has somewhat more traditional - but still quite deep - cleavage, so it's not especially surprising that the bellboy gets entranced. Playfully, Ixana jiggles a bit for him as a tip, bouncing just a little on her heels.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"> "Oh, thank you! Is something amiss with your collar - it seems uncomfortable?"</span>She waits a bit, before tousling his hair and sliding past into the hallway, heading for the main room.<br/><br/>Striding into the common room, she approaches the strong, studly one holding her handbill - though she is stopped short by the same vision that distracted most of the other women in the room. Ixana is normally the one using her appearance as a weapon, so perhaps its only fair that karma finds her already poor attention span torn between two very different visions of manliness. A generally cheery person, a faint smile is Ixana's default expression and it stays mostly fixed on her lips, except for the fluttering of eyes and even more upturned corners when her hand is swept up and kissed. Oh my.<br/><br/><i>Such a gentleman!</i><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)">"I-it is a pleasure to meet you ..."</span>she manages to rip her eyes from the lovely Ivan to include Lars in the conversation. It's not like Lars was chopped liver or anything,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)">"... both. Mister Rostoff is correct, it is I indeed who seeks a strong and skilled arm. Shall we repair to a table to discuss?"</span>She motions off to the side in the general direction of one of the tables. Normally, Ixana would be very precise with her gestures, but tonight she's a little distracted.<br/><br/><a class="link link--external" href="https://i.postimg.cc/44Vj7tj7/Ixana3.png" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Turning in her violet dress with earthen accents and belt</a>, she glides to the table, her heeled feet set one before the next as she walks, causing the dress to flex and swish around her hips - a bit tight as it contours to her thighs and ends just below her knee, but not so much as to overly restrict her motion. Not her walking motion anyhow. Fighting in it might be rougher. Ixana has her golden hair pulled up, though there's simply too much mane for all of it to sit on her head, so a thick tassel makes its way below her left shoulder and other strands dance behind her neck. A earthen belt keeps her waist cinched in, showing off her form without being too open about it, this outfit is for social events and complies fully with hidden rules of the unspoken competition ever present at such things. Sexy, not slutty. Your waist and hips can be flattered by the outfit, but never a display of skin there. Bare shoulders, plunging neckline or a high-slit leg are acceptable, one is expected, two is aggressive, and three ... three is scandal. But Ixana's outfit has only the neckline, and would not violate the rules at anything save funerals or the most uptight of events.<br/><br/>She hesitates briefly by the chair for her companions to reach their seats. Which may well mean her own chair gets pulled out for her by the gentleman. Ixana never was thrilled with that particular gesture - she's quite capable of opening doors and pulling chairs on her own - but considerate ladies give gentlemen their chances to preen, and of course a hostess should not seat herself before the guests even reach the table! Once everyone is in place, she slips into her chair, smoothing her dress as she sits before crossing her hands in her lap.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)">"My thanks to both for your interest. Word has reached me of several recent disappearances in the area. I should not like to sit idly and allow this to happen. Regrettably, I am of the belief that violence will almost certainly be required to rectify the situation, and this is why the handbill spoke not of 'guards' or 'bodyguards' or 'retainers' but of 'bold adventurers'. That being said, are you both still interested in the opportunity?"</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(204, 204, 204)">She looks back and forth between the two men as she speaks, trying - and mostly succeeding - to keep from lingering overlong on Ivan. No matter how skilled a combatant she might be, the social arena was definitely the young noblewoman's area of gladiatoral strength. She was not going to allow herself to chill Lars out of the conversation. And it's not like Lars didn't have potential of his own, he was just a little out of his element, competing with Ivan on the jousting field of charm.</span>