<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/PZO9009-Monk.jpg)</div><br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Elokhat (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=173601.msg8203009#msg8203009)<br/><strong>Nationality:</strong>Stygian<br/><strong>Class/Skill Set:</strong>Noble Duelist<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Inside the Leaky Wench<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Bhalar Ahran<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The shiny circle reached the height of its arc, a foot above the Hyrkanian horseman's head. And then, faster than the eye could follow, it was gone. Long callused fingers tipped with dull black polish closed around the spinning coin and pulled it into a tight fist.<br/><br/>The hand did not pull back to claim its prize, however. It hung in midair with the cloud of herbal smoke dissipating around it, arrested by Ahran's hand gripped tightly around the wrist. Both men flexed slightly, a brief test of strength. Elokhat, the Stygian warrior, looked down into the eyes of his mercenary companion and eventually offered up a slight grin. His hand opened, releasing the coin to fall upon the rough wooden table where it slowly settled to rest. He then wrenched his arm from Ahran's grip, though no observer could say if he might have been able to do so without the horseman's permission.<br/><br/>Elokhat sat lightly on the bench across the table. He moved like a dancer, or a snake, sliding into position with a minimum of wasted effort. A small wooden cup was placed on the table, half full of cloudy beer. Wretched local stuff; these barbarians could not even brew correctly. "You should keep more careful track of your money. We've few enough coins among us, unless someone has been hoarding. A snake without a head will soon die, no matter how strong the body. With our Captain gone we cannot afford too many nights of revelry." He nodded his head toward Cormac's table.<br/><br/>The barbarian had proven himself in battle. As a leader, though, he was untested. But what options did they have? He and Ahran were both foreigners, unlikely to command respect from potential employers. The women had earned Elokhat's respect as well, but their sex of course eliminated them from consideration, at least without a front man. Elokhat knew at least two Stygian noble families ruled by women in the shadows, and they were forces to be reckoned with, but this was quite another matter. And then there was Lukas, the doctor. Soft spoken and cultured; the man could probably lead a merchant's guild, but out here among the savages he'd be eaten alive.<br/><br/>Not for the first time Elokhat bemoaned the night of blood that had led to his banishment from Stygia. With his family's coin he could have bought this tavern whole and all in it for slaves, instead of having to bargain over the price of a cup of undrinkable swill.<br/><br/>"What do you know of the Picts, Ahran? I have heard rumors of lost temples among those savage lands, but I'm not sure I lend them my credence. Then again, a change of scenery may be what we need to turn our luck around."<br/><br/>