Valeander, in his distant manner, was content to observe; he, unlike most others tonight it seemed, had no further desire to spill blood, not that the life he'd ended today had bled out. There was something inherently distasteful about violence, its base, savage nature; all power and no finesse. He let out a quiet "tsk" as he heard the orcish bouncer yelping outside. When the lady goblin walked in, followed by her mysterious, looming bodyguard, he was not the least bit surprised. Trixie Gunrocket was someone he'd heard of on more occasions than he cared to count, and though he'd never met her personally, the rumours that abounded regarding her and her hired protection made placing them extremely easy. The rake-thin, robed elf spared the pair an unimpressed glance, turning his attention to a passing waiter - a male goblin dressed like a hustler, whose eyes lit up at the opportunity only to be shot down with a cold order for wine.<br/><br/>At that point,<i>something</i>made a massive show of its entrance. The old elf spared it only a disapproving look. He was out of its immediate field of vision, protected by the staircase, and at any rate, didn't seem the focus of its attention, but even then, he didn't stop to stare; rather than intimidated, he appeared disgusted by this needless carnage, and nothing about the sodden, wrapped-up creature seemed to surprise him. What did, however, was who Trixie had apparently showed up here for. True, her conversation had been most rudely interrupted by a hulking monster and a troll head bouncing on the floorboards, but she had addressed someone, and that someone happened to be of interest to him.<br/><br/>Under the guise of getting his drink by himself - terrible service, truly - he picked his way through the room and the frozen scene of surprise and dread that had taken over most of it, ending up at the bar a few seats removed from the goblin bounty hunter, her bodyguard, and her mark. With a snap of his fingers he woke the bartender from his alarmed stillness; true, his bouncers were dead and by the look of it, a number of customers and other staff might soon be as well, but Valeander would get his wine. As well as the chance to listen in.<br/><br/>(Oh, yeah, thought I'd note: I'm EU, so here's to hoping not everything passes me by while I sleep and the US works.)<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>