"Perhaps. It is unlikely that they will want to harm you." Hallbjorn told Kara when she asked about the demons. He believed that she would be out of danger now. Without Kaseem alive to pay for her capture, there was no reason for any demons to pursue her.<br/><br/>Hallbjorn nodded when Kara said that she did not like other women looking at him and making comments. "We can add a visit to a jeweler's to the list then." He said. He wanted her to be happy and perhaps it would help like she thought.<br/><br/>Kara washed the dishes too quickly for him to protest her doing so or help out. Hallbjorn himself did not generally use the dishwasher because he typically would take a week to fill it. The man used very few dishes on his own.<br/><br/>"Sometimes." Hallbjorn answered when Kara asked if he could cook. He knew that she did not and it did not bother him. The blond male could not make anything as good as the foods that they enjoyed together.<br/><br/>With the dishes done it was time to go out. Hallbjorn made a detour to the basement and picked up a pouch of gold coins from one of the rooms in the vault. Getting Kara falsified documents was not something that he could pay for with plastic. On the way out Hallbjorn threw on a long black leather duster and a pair of boots. The drive to Errol's was rather quiet, but it was a time that did not need to be filled with words. Hallbjorn's hand rested on Kara's knee when it could; he only removed it when he needed to it for one of the vehicle's controls.<br/><br/>It was a similar scene at Errol's compared to their previous visit. The only difference was that they came in the light of day. That did not preclude nymphs copulating with random males without any care for being seen. Inside the drinking hole was no less occupied than before; the same variety of Lore beings were present but the specifics were different. Hallbjorn surveyed the crowd, and put an arm around Kara to keep her close as he wound towards his chosen target.<br/><br/>His chosen demon was a slender male demon with grey skin and stubby orange horns. He was drinking demon brew from a mug and playing cards with other demons of different species. None of them were of the handsome type that attacked Kara and Hallbjorn. "I need you to make documents and identification for my mate, Aron." Hallbjorn told the demon. The game the demons played conspicuously halted as Hallbjorn approached.<br/><br/>"Sure," Aron replied. "But it'll cost you extra. I might catch heat from the Lykae for doing this. Hell, just for being seen with you." The demon took a swig of demon brew. The other demons put their cards down and picked up their drinks, vacating the table. Aron raised his eyebrows in a helpless gesture. "Please, have a seat."<br/><br/>Hallbjorn pulled a chair out for Kara and took one near her. "I'd like payment up front, if you don't mind." The demon asked. Hallbjorn withdrew the pouch of gold coins and dropped it on the table. Aron grasped it and opened it, examining the coins. When he was satisfied, he closed it and tucked into his coat pocket. "Alright then." He pulled a bunch of papers and a few plastic cards out of his pocket and laid them out on the table. "If you could give me the name, date of birth, and so on . . ." Aron asked Kara, going through the various facts that would appear on a new driver's license, social security number, birth certificate, and so forth. As she spoke the demon wove his hands over each document, and the facts Kara spoke appeared upon the papers and cards, looking as legitimate as true documents by the power of magic.<br/><br/>While Aron led Kara through that, three men approached their table. Hallbjorn looked over and his face went inexpressive and impassive. The men had dark brown hair and bears, and it was unkempt. It looked as if they had gone years without combing and grooming their hair and beards. They smelled strongly of cheap beer and cheap whiskey, as well as unwashed man. Their beards showed foam from their beer around their mouths, and the trio wore attire one would expect from a television biker gang: jeans, leather chaps, t-shirts, and leather and denim coats. Their coats had a patch that showed a pair of ravens in flight upon the left breast. Each one of them looked on the edge of sanity, the skin of their faces that was visible flushed with blood. They were all in their late thirties, maybe early forties.<br/><br/>"Heard about you, boy," one of them said in a thick drawl. "You some kind of prissy boy, too good for the likes of the rest of us." He said to Hallbjorn. The man wavered from the alcohol in his system.<br/><br/>Before violence could erupt, a fourth Berserker arrived and commanded the trio to go and get sobered up. "Aiden the Fierce is reborn." This fourth Berserker told Hallbjorn. "He leads all Berserkers. Are you going to join, or will you be on your again this Accession?"<br/><br/>"I am my own man, Brandr." Hallbjorn said in a cold emotionless voice. "I have my own affairs to attend."<br/><br/>Brandr nodded, and looked over at Kara. "So I see." The other Berserker said, and left, herding the drunken trio of Berserkers out of Errol's.