When Walls Crumble [RP Thread] [R] [Private Fantasy RP]

[Vern]

Sullivan Van Daal
The Marigold -> Marketplace

Sullivan clicks his tongue in annoyance as another soldier (quite accidentally) intercepts his bottle while trying to move out of a rampaging Sylvia’s path. The glass shatters on his helmet, knocking him out cold, but leaving Sullivan’s original target unharmed. But a kill was a kill - even if the guy was only unconscious - so he isn’t exactly going to complain. Smiling, he stretches his arms and stands up, re-energised by the party healer’s citrusy wind.

“Thanks for saving me back then.” A voice to his right catches his attention, and Sullivan whirls around to see the apothecary lady, who was giving a nervous smile. “I owe you one.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots - he had originally targetted that soldier since he was distracted, but in doing so, he had also potentially saved the woman’s life. Of course, Sylvia would probably have done it if he hadn’t (she had helped her to her feet afterwards, after all), so there wasn’t really much to take credit for. “That wasn’t my intention.” He laughs, shaking his head as he conjures up lightning around his arms, “He was just an easy target.” He pauses for a second, then shrugs and adds, "You’re welcome, though.”

Before he can jump back into the fray, a blade of water flies past his torso, tearing open his left sleeve and leaving a small cut behind. Sensing danger, he immediately turns around, assessing the situation. The source of the blades is the Zlelmorian mages on the shore, and the trajectory implies a specific target more than just a carpet bombing. Groaning, he tries to make out words in the din of noise, and as expected, the shores are already alight with cries of ‘werewolf!’.

What a bunch of idiots. He thinks to himself as he casually steps to the side, easily avoiding an incoming projectile. You’re some of the best god-damn mages in the world. What have you got to be scared of?

For a moment, he considers trying to smite one of them with thunder - after all, it would hardly be unprovoked - but decides against it. If despite all odds his earlier intuition is correct, and his old friend is indeed among the mages on the shore, she would hardly be pleased about that. Thankfully, the princess is quick to give the mages a piece of her mind, and promptly requests an audience with their leader. The mages, probably none too eager to suffer Gwen’s wrath, invited them aboard some of their magical carriages, offering to take them to their leader.

"Now then... change of plan," Gwen said, eyeing over her group. "Lyn, Dimmy..." She narrowed her eyes at the dark mage. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself. You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them.” Sullivan sighed at that - they would be speaking to some of the most powerful people in the realm, and she expects them to be impressed by this ragtag band of adventurers? If that isn’t arrogance, then what is? But on the other hand, he isn’t exactly one to judge.

"Brother, Sullivan, Sylvia?” The princess says, turning towards the three of them, "You are to stay in the nearby market. Find us a secluded place to stay and some dinner. Perhaps socialize with the townsfolk, but please do not make any scenes. We will find you shortly after. Sir Emerick will accompany you.”

Her bodyguard doesn’t seem to take that suggestion really well, and after a quick back and forth, it’s decided that the three of them would go to the market alongside the ship’s crew, and the others - along with Sir Emerick - would go and meet the Grand Sorcerer. "And if you're going to drink," she continues, dropping some gold coins into their hands, “You'd better not buy the cheap stuff.”

Sullivan raises an eyebrow at that, but he doesn’t complain. Money is money, and alcohol is alcohol. If you're going to be getting some for free, you might as well take it. Following the others, he disembarks the ship, walking near the back of the group. He scans the faces of the nearby mages, but none of them even remotely resemble the person he’s looking for, so he tosses that notion aside. If he’s going to go looking for his childhood friend in Zlelmore, that could wait until he finished with this particular adventure, and, hopefully, had more money and some accomplishments he could quote other than ‘burning down some buildings in Lochester’. Being the last to board his carriage, he pulls the door closed behind him, and sits down with a contented sigh.

Getting off the carriage, Sully finds himself standing with Sylvia to his left and Genma to his right. Without warning, the monk reaches out and pulls both of them into a strange shoulder-hug kind of movement. “All right,” the monk asks, “What are we gonna do? First of all, let's get drunk shall we? I mean, she practically asked us to, right?”

Sully gives a mental shrug a that - as far as he remembers, Monks weren’t supposed to drink. But if this particular one is willing to break some rules, then he isn’t gonna bother trying to talk him out of it. “Sure.” He chuckles with a devilish grin, “Might as well have some fun now that we have the chance."

 

[*Jean Grey*]

Sylvia Edelstein
The Marigold

Sylvia fought on, mercilessly tearing into the chest of the Lochesterian soldier to finish him off, ignoring his cries of anguish. Blood gushed out, and he stopped struggling, prompting Sylvia to leap off him. She looked around, seeking out another Lochesterian soldier to fight. Before she could begin to shift back into human form, however, she felt a sharp, cold sensation dig into her back, and then three more successive ones.

Ice? Lochesterian forces don't use ice...she thought as she turned around. The source of the attacks was indeed not from any of the Lochesterians, but rather, from some of the Zielmore mages. They were wide-eyed and talking in panicked tones. Sylvia's ear twitched, and she picked up the word werewolf. She snarled, making a run towards them as she immediately shifted back into human form. Her scythe pulsed with power, clearly from the blood that had been spilled aboard. Oh, she was going to give them the fight they were practically begging for, alright, and she was dying to see the look on their faces when she defeated them with one of their own weapons.

Another bolt of ice was fired at her but this time, it was stopped by a shield, Gwen's shield.

"Cease your fire! How dare you attack my soldiers! Am I to take this as a threat against Yloria? Do you wish my head next, as these cowardly Lochester soldiers did?" Gwen snapped, standing tall and her voice firm and unwavering. Sylvia facepalmed at that. When were words ever enough? From all her experiences...not exactly often. As Gwen noticed Sir Emerick's wounded arm and went off to ask the monk to heal him, Sylvia brandished her scythe and shamelessly taunted the Zielmorian mages with it, an uncaring, caustic smirk on her face. Gwen returned, which prompted Sylvia to address her.

"C'mon, I can fight my own battles. Them skinny wimps don't even have balls and won't last ten minutes!" She argued.

"Let me do the talking," Gwen insisted, and Sylvia groaned. If the Zielmorian mages weren't going to listen to her, then there wasn't about to be anything stopping the werewolf from initiating another fight. Not even royal orders or a threat of arrest. The princess then gave the mages a piece of her mind, defending her "choice of army", and then requested for an audience with Sorcerer Glikore himself. The mages surprisingly agreed, perhaps intimidated by the tact that they were talking to a princess, and they promptly led the group towards some magical carriages.

"Now then... change of plan," Gwen said, eyeing over the group as she began to speak. "Lyn, Dimmy..." She then narrowed her eyes at the dark mage, who hadn't introduced herself to anyone just yet. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself. You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them.” Sylvia crossed her arms. Royals...why do they get off on people who grovel and prostrate? The irreverent blue-haired werewolf noted with distaste.

"Brother, Sullivan, Sylvia? You are to stay in the nearby market. Find us a secluded place to stay and some dinner. Perhaps socialize with the townsfolk, but please do not make any scenes. We will find you shortly after. Sir Emerick will accompany you." Sylvia thought it was fair enough. The market was bound to be a lot more exciting, and wherever dinner was, there were always other exciting things nearby, like alcohol, gambling and exotic substances. This was met with protest from the Knight, who insisted that he was to stay at the princess' side at all times. After a quick back and forth, it was then decided that Sylvia, the monk and Sully would go to the market alongside the ship’s crew, and the others - along with Sir Emerick - would go and meet the Grand Sorcerer.

"And if you're going to drink," she continued, dropping some gold coins into their hands, “You'd better not buy the cheap stuff.” At this, Sylvia snickered.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. If you're after the mind-blowing, Zielmore's drinks are just as crazy as Khusha's," she assured as they boarded the carriages.

----
Zielmore Marketplace

Sylvia stepped off the carriage together with Brother Genma and Sully. The former immediately put his arms around her and Sully, pulling them in and poking his head between them.

"All right, what are we gonna do. First of all, let's get drunk shall we? I mean, she practically asked us to, right?" He suggested.

“Sure.” Sully agreed, grinning devilishly. “Might as well have some fun now that we have the chance."

"Y'all are both pussies! Why don't we all step it up and have a fucking drinking game?" Sylvia growled. "And I'm not talking cheap, weak shit," She knew that she had this in the bag. After all, magical humans weren't exactly known for being the sturdiest sorts. Besides, it was fun just watching the effects that some Zielmore alcohol had, especially the more unusual ones. She grabbed both mages' hands and began to drag them from stall to stall, her superior strength allowing her to do so pretty easily. Zielmore had an array of exotic alcohols of various strengths, ranging from strong to lethal, and that wasn't the only thing - some stalls even sold forest specialties such as various mushrooms and odd "gourmet" herbs with mysterious aromas. Sylvia briefly wondered if any of her companions were into that sort of thing.

At last, she stopped at the stall with the biggest array of offerings and went on to take a look at each of them. Lochesterian Brew, one label read, and the werewolf guffawed at the caption stating that it was meant for children and weaklings. She picked one up and taunted Genma and Sully with it before putting it back down. Dragon's Breath was a particularly strong, hot, Khushan specialty and one of her favorites - she grabbed three bottles and gave Genma and Sully a challenging, shit-eating grin. Blue Hope was their newest, most expensive and strongest offering - deceptively simple-looking with its pale blue color and its crystal-cut bottle, yet said to be able to knock out most average people with just a small sip. Sylvia took a gulp while raising a brow and giving the finger at the vendor, whose jaw dropped, and took three bottles. Gwen probably would appreciate this one. She did say not cheap after all. And then she selected half a dozen bottles of Venom - a notoriously powerful, inky black beer famously outlawed in Lochester, as it was said to be infused with dark magic to strengthen it. She looked over the royal wines and shrugged, deciding that whatever tavern they were heading for was bound to serve the same things anyway. Besides, those were staples and hardly exciting anyway. She picked up a few of their stronger offerings before she was satisfied. After she paid for her purchases, she turned to face the guys.

"What are you waiting for? Let's get lost. If they want royal wine, almost all good places have 'em. The sooner we get to a damn inn, the sooner I get to see at least one of you pass out."

 

[Tangeh]

Princess Gwendolyn
Zlelmore Tower

Gwen and her crew lingered a bit behind the mages leading them to the top of the tower. Dimmy snickered to her left. “I don't think impressing the natives is going to be that hard.” It was a fair comment - the dimly lit black stone walls contrasting with bright rugs and tapestries weren't exactly welcoming. Or bearable to look at, for that matter.

"At one point in time, it was meant to be intimidating," Gwen mentioned quietly. "This tower is just a part of their culture now, I suppose, so we must respect it."

"Many Ylorian soldiers died within these walls," Sir Emerick reminded her gently. Of course, the great battles within this tower were drilled into Gwen's head from countless history lessons. Now wasn't a great time to remind her of it; she wasn't up for a third confrontation today.

The nameless mage spoke up out of nowhere. "So, Princess, since you asked, my name is Veronica Lance. Graduate of Zlelmore Magical Academy. If you believe those Lochestrians, I'm a witch..."

"I was beginning to believe you deaf," Gwen bit back in annoyance. She didn't take kindly to be ignored. She huffed and decided it wasn't worth pursuing the issue. "In any case, Lochesterian's believe anybody who does not move and think like them to be witches fit to be burned at the stake." She raised her voice here, allowing the leading guards to properly hear her. "I was not raised to follow these ideologies, and I am willing to fight to prevent Lochester from converting us back to them."

"You were fortunate to be born when you were," Sir Emerick said. "Things were not always so simple." It had been relatively recently that Yloria's views broke off from Lochester. Gwen couldn't imagine growing up that way now.

Eventually they'd reached the top of the tower. A quick glance outside of a stone window told her they'd climbed exactly as high as the arduous stair walking suggested they had. The mages leading them gestured them through two large wooden doors, painted bright purple, with a respectful bow. There were more mage guards lined along a long purple carpet, and as Gwen led the party forward they individually sunk into bows as they passed. It was common courtesy to foreign royalty in Yloria as well, though Gwen hadn't been expecting a warm welcome here. She glanced back at her personal guard and three recruited soldiers. She considered reminding them to be respectful, but decided they had enough common sense to let her do most of the talking.

At the end of the room, sitting in a large black and purple throne, and clothed in the finest matching robes, was the head of state, Sorcerer Gilkore. His entire face was marked with black tattoos in an intricate pattern - a traditional mark given to the most powerful magic user in Zlelmore. His two personal students sat near him. They wore similar attire, minus the facial markings: his own daughter Veneas, and the top magical student in the kingdom, Ixrius. Despite them not being of royal blood, Gwen nodded respectfully to the two teens as she would for princes and princesses of the other two kingdoms, then sunk into a deep curtsy to Sorcerer Gilkore. His mouth twitched into a smile, as if he was trying to hide amusement, and he nodded back respectfully. "I see you've made it here safety, Princess," the sorcerer commented, eyeing the four other people in front of him curiously. "And you've brought guests...?"

"Thanks to your mages, yes, we did," Gwen said. "You are of course familiar with my personal guard, Sir Emerick of the Ylorian army. Travelling with me are Lord Dimamire Nightshade of Khusha; Lyn Grier, an apprentice apothecary of Master Gunther; and Veronica Lance, a Graduate of Zlelmore Magical Academy." She gestured to each of them in turn, Sir Emerick bowing as he was introduced. "They are of course not a part of the Ylorian guard, but have proven to be invaluable assets, and Yloria is indebted to their bravery."

The sorcerer eyed her sternly, and for a moment Gwen thought he was going to admonish her for stealing two of his subjects. "I can see there's a story here... but we don't have time for that." Gwen's relief was short lived, since he stared at her seriously and continued with "I've been in contact with your father. He's requested I halt your ship and send you home immediately." Gwen tensed, warily glancing at the Zlelmore guards as if expecting them to pounce on her.

"So that's why you ordered my ship be stopped?" Gwen questioned cautiously. "Your guards said they expected trouble. How did you know we would be attacked?"

Someone laughed, and Gwen's gaze turned sharply to Gilkore's student Ixrius. Veneas jabbed him sharply in the side and he quieted, but still smirked in amusement. Sorcerer Gilkore paid his students no mind. "Us magical folk have our ways, shall we leave it at that?"

Gwen didn't want to push her luck. She had more pressing battles to fight. "I have no intention of returning to Yloria before I've finished what I've set out to do," Gwen said firmly, "...but if you really wanted to, you would have already sent me back, wouldn't you have? You magical folk do 'have your ways', as you so mildly put it."

Sorcerer Gilkore gave her a slight grin. "I wished to speak to you first. I must at least commend you for your outright boldness, Princess. I can't say there are many members of royalty who would dare lead the charge themselves - with good reason, of course. But Zlelmore doesn't wish to see Yloria hurt, and especially not its King's only child, over something as petty as social politics."

"Yloria was many disrespective things in its past," Gwen said carefully, "but we have always been a peaceful nation. We wished to leave the social order of Zlelmore and Khusha to be run under their own laws, even when they conflicted with our own. Isn't it odd that as soon as we conflict with Lochester, they declare war? Why not the two nations that have spat in their backwards beliefs for decades?" Gwen held the sorcerer's gaze firmly. "Because they know its a battle they'd lose without the support of Yloria, but the more territory we lose to them, the bigger of a threat they become. They're afraid of you, and that would make you a valuable ally."

"I'm not interested in forcing my soldiers to meddle with other nation's affairs..." Sorcerer Gilkore paused, then his gaze locked onto Dimmy. "Though... perhaps I can lend you a hand, in return for a favor."

Gwen could see where he was looking, and had no idea where he was about to go with this. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to borrow your vampire," the sorcerer continued, the playful grin returning. "All the ones I've hired have been nothing but thieves, demanding a down payment up front then fleeing back to Khusha. Surely you're familiar with the forests that surround Miredom?" Gwen nodded - the forests were planted with toxic foliage designs to disorient werewolves and intruders from entering. Vampires were immune to the effects, and Gwen began to see where he was going with this. "It's been a wet season, and its flourished a bit too much. Miredom isn't large enough to produce enough herbicides on its own, and the capital has had significant trouble delivering it to them. Vampires should be the obvious solution, but its hard to find good help in these parts. I was beginning to believe I'd have to bargain with Prince Alarik for a few members of his guard, but seems you've presented a much easier solution, Princess. I merely need you to deliver a few dozen vials of a powerful herbicide potion for me, but the journey would be worth your time. The wise Sage Celeus has been awaiting the vampire I promised him for some time now - if you tell him your plight, he has more than enough resources to aid you." Gwen narrowed her eyes - this was a ridiculous request. She was a princess, not a carrier pigeon. "...That, and I will send message to your father that he should allow you to continue your journey. After all, so long as you don't perish, this would be a benefit to Zlelmore as well."

Gwen blinked. She couldn't exactly afford for him not to do that at this point - she needed the soldiers fighting, not spread out around the realm searching for her. "In that case... we will help you as best we can."

Sorcerer Gilkore nodded at a mage guard, who hastily left to fetch the potions. "Oh, and princess?" Gwen looked at the head of state quizzically, noting a somber expression. "If you're planning on doing what I expect, I implore you to go to Khusha and see if you can't find a second ally in them... if it were my daughter in your situation..."

"I already have one father worrying over me, I don't need two," Gwen replied swiftly, but she had to admit she didn't expect that response. She curtsied respectively in farewell, then turned to her party. "First, we rest for the night. I sincerely hope the others have kept their trouble within a small circle..."

 

[Schade]

✧-------------------~✪~-------------------✧
Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third
Marketplace -> The drunken wench
​

“Sure.” Sully chuckles with a devilish yet somewhat hesitant grin, “Might as well have some fun now that we have the chance.". Well that was one down. Genma suspected that the werewolf wouldn't be too hard to convince to join them, and just as he thought that, she replied. "Y'all are both pussies! Why don't we all step it up and have a fucking drinking game? And I'm not talking cheap, weak shit," she said. Genma was a bit put off by this. Though he wouldn't let her get away with calling him names like that, he also didn't want to get too drunk. A drunk priest is an unstable one, and since he was basically in the royal service now, he had to set a good example. I mean, the princess wasn't there right now, and she did after all tell them to get drunk, and this werewolf seemed to have a decently yet somewhat alarming knowledge about alcoholic beverages.

The makeshift trio then proceeded to stop by a stall at the marketplace that showcased a wide variety of beverages from all over the realm and beyond. Though it seemed like the werewolf was a woman on a mission, Genma still looked out to see if the stall had any Mnooshka. He really did love him some mnooshka. Grabbing a pretty blue bottle of.. something, th werewolf gave both Sully and himself a challenging grin. Was she trying to kill them? Who knew, but it would make a fun story in the afterlife. If things go for the worst, Genma can just heal them all anyway. Y'know, if he doesn't just flat out die first. He had seen it happen before, with Sister Karen from Finance back at the monastery. Life's funny sometimes.

"What are you waiting for? Let's get lost. If they want royal wine, almost all good places have 'em. The sooner we get to a damn inn, the sooner I get to see at least one of you pass out." the werewolf said as she took lead of the trio. She wasn't wrong though, as they found an inn literally 4 minutes later. She kicked the doors open with a wolfish grin while Genma and Sully kinda tagged along, keeping just enough distance so that people wouldn't think they were with her. The inn was a surprisingly well established one, an Genma couldn't see any rats as they entered. Truly a magnifficent place. The people residing at the bar there also seemed of the finer sorts. Well, finer than gutter rats an drunken pirates and the likes as Genma had seen before. However, considering the finer establishment, the busty werewolf got a few strange stares from the patrons, and some of them even readied their weapons, just in case. Genma understood the caution, as he had seen first hand how fierce this woman could be, despite her being a werewolf.

sitting down by one of the free tables, Genma opened the clear bottle Sylvia had handed her earlier and took a whiff of its content. If he had a clogged nose before it was perfectly fine now. What was this, Mandrake poison? He figured he might as well taste it, and took a gentle sip. The beverage was delicious, once you got past the throat burning sensation of the alcohol preentage which probably exceeded the royal castle'sentire stock of gold in terms of numbers. "Hoi." he said with a blank stare, looking over at Sully. "Yeah, better be careful with that stuff. Getting up, he could immideatly feel the effects of the alcohol, and swayed elegantly to the side before managing to stand up straight. This was going to be a fun time, and he could feel the hangver from the next 4 days already. He wanted some Mnooshka, and headed over to the bar, standing up next to Sylvia. "One pint of your finest Mnooshka, please!" he said, handing the bar wench a golden coin. "And like 5 mugs of water, if you can" he then mumbled. The woman behind the counter nodded enthusiastically before turning her busty bosom to fiddle with some cannisters which she proceeded to fill with water.

Getting back to the table, Genma took a sip of that sweet savory Mnooshka. "So what do you think the princess and the others are doing at the castle? You think it's a coincidence that she sent us here?". He took another, larger sip of the beverage Sylvia had gotten for them. It wasnt so bad once you managed to actually taste its deliciousness, and tough Genma was able to hold his liquor, he feared for the times that lied ahead of him.

​

 

[VampirateMace]

Lord Dimamire Nightshade
The ostentatious Tower

Dimmy looked over to witch-girl as she called Zlelmorians' style dramatic, with a slightly amused look on his face. He spoke softly through the smirk, teasing gently, “That's an interesting way of pronouncing tacky.”

The princess however was already explaining that the décor was meant to be intimating. Well, that wasn't the way Khusha would do it, kind of made sense, it certainly hurt to look at it. So, maybe that effect was intentional.

It was after that that the girl finally pulled forward to introduce herself to the princess; Veronica. That was a kind of pretty name in Dimmy's opinion. So, why did it take her so long to tell it to people? Did she not like it?

There was a bit of back and forth between the two after that, and then between the princess and her knightly bodyguard. Dimmy eventually lost focus on this, climbing these hellish stairs with sun breaks pouring in the windows was effort enough for him. At the top they were greeted by more mages, and a set of tacky purple doors, which were at this point not surprising.

Entering in, Dimmy followed Gwen's curtsy in sweeping elegant bow of his own. Not only did show the head sorcerer some respect, but it enforced the impression that Gwen really was in control of their powerful group, as any respectable nobleman would not intentionally disrespect his royals by simply standing by whilst they bowed.

He listened carefully to the conversation, picking up on the fact that the Zlelmorians were not telling them everything. He was torn between outright cautioning the princess and holding his tongue in respect. He really didn't know her well enough to know how much she was realizing, outside of what she said, though her observations seemed keen. ~ At least until they were negotiating, 'the burrowing of her vampire'. He stepped forward, giving Gwen a concerned look, but still silent as he was still trying to follow the sorcerer's explanation. The mage just needed him, or them, to go through a forest? He looked from one to the other upon the line about her not perishing on such a simple delivery mission, then commented, “Well, I think there's little risk of that.”

The mage made a final plea for her to seek allies in Khusha, and the meeting concluded with the bottles of potions being delivered to them. Dimmy bowed again on her cue, and followed her out. Outside the disturbingly purple doors, he instinctively he pulled his hood back up, though they still had to descend the stairs before leaving the building, he had not enjoyed the amount of sun on the climb up, and imagine he would not enjoy the amount on the way down either. He then turned to the princess, “I don't think he is telling us everything, though I'm sure you've suspected it as well, My Lady,” he paused and shifted subjects, “Still, I can't promise much, but I should have some pull if you intend to look for allies in Khusha, aside from that a princess should already have.”

Pivoting back, he headed towards the stairs, and started down. He wasn't sure where the marketplace was, but he was not worried about losing the group on the way down the stairs either. If any of them did get lost on the way down, then Gwen should seriously reconsider retaining them, in his opinion.

 

[Vern]

Sullivan Van Daal
Marketplace -> The Drunken Wench

"Y'all are both pussies!” The werewolf laughed, reaching out and grabbing both Sully and Genma’s hands, "Why don't we all step it up and have a fucking drinking game? And I'm not talking cheap, weak shit,”

What, are you so insecure that you have to resort to proposing clearly unfair games in order to prove your superiority? I’m sure you know that mages are naturally several times more susceptible to alcohol than werewolves - don’t pretend you went into this not knowing you’d have a disgustingly large advantage simply because of your genetics. Sullivan sighs, grimacing. Well, whatever - it’s good liquor, and it just makes it more embarrassing for her if I win.

Watching with Genma from the sides as Sylvia went straight for the strongest, most deadly wines she could find, he punctuates every taunt she throws their way with an exasperated eye roll. While she was busy asking for some Venom, which he’s pretty sure is actually capable of killing someone, Sullivan occupies himself with a casual game of some form of magical ping-pong with a vendor in the booth next door, deciding to leave the liquor-buying to the werewolf. After all, she seems to know her way around the more exotic ones far better than he does, which isn’t surprising because most of his alcohol consumption had always been dictated by how much money he could afford to waste, which was usually only barely enough to get him something crappy from the bottom of the barrel.

"What are you waiting for? Let's get lost.” Sylvia said, having already stockpiled a gigantic bag of wines that looked more like poison, "If they want royal wine, almost all good places have 'em. The sooner we get to a damn inn, the sooner I get to see at least one of you pass out.”

“Fun times.” Sullivan mutters with another eye roll, waving goodbye to the vendor and turning to follow a good distance away from her. A few minutes later, they arrived at an Inn, upon which Sylvia promptly kicked the door open made her way straight to the bar. Yawning, Sully follows, joining Genma at a free table and swiping a drink from where Sylvia was seated at the bar on the way. As he walks, he takes a long swig of the blue liquid, grinning at the burning in his throat. Since they were here already, might as well get hammered. Besides, this was probably the best wine he’d ever have his entire life. No point holding back here.

“Hoi.” The cleric murmurs with a blank-eyed stare, swaying from side to side like a pendulum as he gets up to order something from the bartender, "Yeah, better be careful with that stuff.”

With an almost savage grin, Sullivan looks back down at the now half-empty bottle in his hand, just as the brew’s effect began to kick in - and lets out a laugh: “Too late, buddy.” He grins, just as his vision seems to distort. This was definitely strong stuff - but it sure tasted better than most of the stuff he’s ever drank, and he wasn't one to shy away from a challenge. “Why be careful when you can drink your ass off?”

A while later, his cleric ‘friend’ returns to the table with some other alcoholic beverage in his hand. After taking a long, satisfied sip from his drink, he turns to Sully and starts asking questions. "So what do you think the princess and the others are doing at the castle? You think it's a coincidence that she sent us here?”

“Most likely some fancy political bullshit.” Sullivan responds, yawning again and twirling his bottle of blue alcohol around by the top end. “She was probably worried we’d screw it up. We’re hardly the most courtly people out of the bunch, after all. I think I’ll go - Never mind." he starts to get up, and then, thinking better of it, tilts his head back and takes another long swig from the bottle of Blue Hope, slamming it down on the table with a satisfied sigh. With a slightly intoxicated grin on his face, he turns and yells at Sylvia: “Hey, wolfie - pass me another one of those blue things, will ya?”

 

[Minteh]

Lyn Grier
Zlelmore Tower

Although she had missed what he had said originally, Lyn noted that Dimmy must have been referring to the decor of the tower, if Gwen's follow up comment about how it was supposed to look intimidating once. Lyn wasn't sure if she would say the decor was intimidating, but it was certainly ugly and hard to look at, so perhaps that had been the desired effect.

It was only after that that the purple haired girl introduced herself, revealing her name to be Veronica, and, if she was to believed, a graduate of the Zlelmore Magical Academy. Lyn was almost curious why she hadn't revealed herself earlier, though she supposed the girl was entitled to her privacy over the matter.

After the introduction, there was a bit of back and forth between the girl and the princess, before the princess and her knight spoke some more. For the most part, Lyn tuned out of the conversation, focusing on her surroundings, but was vaguely aware of what was being spoken at all times. At the top of the staircase, they were greeted by more mages, who lead them through two bright purple door, which like almost everything else in the tower, was unpleasant on the eyes. Upon entering the room, Lyn followed suit in dropping to a low curtsy. She did not need to be told to show the man seated in front of them a sign of respect. Her time in the capital and information given to her by her tutor made her perfectly aware of what was expected.

Like the vampire, Lyn remained quiet during the conversation but listened intently to what was being said, studying the three mages in front of them. Although the conversation started as one would expect given their current situation, there was something about how Gilkore spoke that made Lyn feel uneasy, as if the Zlelmorians were not telling them everything. Lyn didn't know much about Gilkore beyond the obvious, and Gunther always spoke sparsely about him, so it was hard to know if this was within character for him.

Lyn's concern only grew when Gilkore proposed a deal between himself and the princess. He wanted to borrow Dimmy to deliver some herbicide to Miredom, as vampires were immune to the effects of the toxic forest surrounding the village. As to be expected, Dimmy didn't seem to be too impressed with the idea of being borrowed, Lyn would have even said he looked concerned at the prospect. Despite this, he remained silent. Lyn did share his concerns. Something about the whole situation seemed off.

After agreeing to those terms, Gilkore made a final plea for her to seek allies in Khusha before the meeting concluded with the bottles being brought to them. Like her companions, Lyn curtsied once more before following them out.

Before they made their descent, Dimmy voiced his concerns to the princess, which Lyn nodded along with. Lyn only added her own opinion as they made their descent.

"I have to agree with Dimmy, My Lady," Lyn said as they moved, eyes briefly glancing to Dimmy, before returning her focus on the stairs before them. It still amazed her how Gunther had managed this in his youth, much less in his current advanced age. "Something about the whole situation seemed rather strange."

They descended down the rest of the stairs in silence, with Lyn silently thankful to soon be free of the tower's garish decor. Leaving the tower the group halted outside. Lyn pivoted on the spot, turning to her companions.

"I can take us to the marketplace," she offered, mustering up a polite smile as she spoke, "I've lived in the capital for some years now, it would be terrible of me if I forgot how to take you there." Lyn laughed a little at that, even though the statement was inherently funny. "There's also an inn nearby we could rest at that I could take you to. Provided the rest of the group haven't found other accommodation, of course."

 

[*Jean Grey*]

Sylvia Edelstein
Marketplace -> The Drunken Wench

Within minutes of them leaving the stall, Sylvia spotted an inn that looked at the very least, decent to her eyes. Despite its name, The Drunken Wench, the exterior looked well-maintained and presentable. Not bothering with decent etiquette, the werewolf grinned at her two companions before kicking the door open with her metal greave. She then led Sully and Genma towards the bar. The interior was just as well-kept as the exterior - the floors were surprisingly shiny, there weren't any strong smells and the place was surprisingly devoid of rats and other dodgy critters. Even the patrons were not of the sorts that Sylvia was used to. They looked almost too orderly, in fact - not the sorts who would take kindly to a bar brawl.

"Well, fuck," Sylvia said a bit too loudly, causing the patrons to start giving her odd looks. Yeah, totally not used to seeing someone like her around. The werewolf shot them challenging looks, and some instinctively drew out their weapons as a response. She acknowledged their apprehension with a mocking sneer as she planted herself on an unoccupied bar stool, while Genma and Sully swiped some of the drinks they bought and sat down at a free table. The blue-haired woman immediately popped open a bottle of Blue Hope and began taking large gulps of the strong alcohol. The burning was like heaven to her throat, and, catching an odd look from the patron next to her, she gave him the finger.

"One pint of your finest Mnooshka, please!" Genma. Sylvia turned her head and saw the Cleric then whisper something into the barmaid's ear, among them the word water. She quirked a brow as the barmaid handed Genma his drinks, and shook her head as he left.

"Lightweight..." she murmured as she pointed at him and took more gulps of the Blue Hope. Surprisingly, the barmaid nodded and grinned just as Sylvia finished the bottle. One down, and she was still ready for more. She moved on to a bottle of the spicy Khushan drink Dragon's Breath and was midway through it when she heard Sully.

“Hey, wolfie - pass me another one of those blue things, will ya?” The blond sing-songed. Sylvia faced him, stuck out her tongue and then smirked.

"Too slow, blondie. I already finished the last one. Why don't you share with your lover over there?" She replied, looking pointedly at Genma, whose bottle still had most of its contents. She wiggled her brows at the two of them, before finishing up her spicy drink and motioning for the barmaid.

"Do you have any more of this?" She asked, pointing at the empty bottle of Blue Hope. She didn't want any of the others to miss out on it - the drink proved to be more popular than she thought. The barmaid gave the bottle a look, and she nodded slowly.

"I do have two back inside...but are you sure?" She asked. Sylvia crossed her arms, and gave her a dangerous look.

"Is that a question about money or tolerance?" The werewolf intoned, before taking out a few gold coins. The barmaid quickly nodded, a hint of intimidation crossing her face as she scurried off to fetch the drinks. She did it in record time, and once she came back with the bottles, Sylvia's expression softened as she took one of the bottles.

"Ever tried it? Want a sip?" She offered. The barmaid swiftly shook her head, murmuring that she'd rather stay sober.

 

[Schade]

✧-------------------~✪~-------------------✧
Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third
Marketplace -> The drunken wench
​

Sully responded to Genmas question pretty much as expectd. It wasn' a huge secret that the trio were sent away so they wouldn't muck up whatever plan the princess had going for her, and though he was a little hurt by that, he understood. Not that he would admit that to himself or to anyone else. As if they needed supervision. Wasn't it he who had made sure the group got to Zlelmore in the first place? Sully then proceeded to stand up, revealing that the weird alcoholic beverage he had downed as water earlier was clearly messing with his sense of both direction and balance. As he wobbled off, a hoodded figure quickly sat down in his seat. "Hoi therr" Genma said with a drunken burp, taking another sip of his drink.

"No time for chit-chat" The hooded figure said, revealing themselves to be a woman. "You're causeed quite the mess on your little trip, and elder Marlon gave me the task of bringing you back to the monastery. you're training is not yet complete, Brother, and this task is too big for you." she said before removing her hood, revealing the plain greyish brown shoulder-length hair and her thick square-framed glases. Genma gasped. "Sister Karen from Finance? I thought you were dead!". He was shocked and admittidly a little bit spooked by this revelation. "Yeah, and i would have stayed that way too had it not been for sister Helen's meddling and her stupid dog... Anyway we're getting off track." She cut herself off and nodded to two people behind him that Genma didnt see. He then felt a prick on his neck, and he quickly started to lose feeling in his head, upper body, arms and then finally legs. he could then vaguelly feel being picked up like it was nothing by a previously unseen character wearing the same robes as Sister Karen from Finance, except he was more of a gorilla than man. "Hey hey hey, l-let me go. Oof, hey careful!" was the last things you could hear as Genma was carried out of the tavern, never to be heard from again.


~~~


Goran has spent the majority of his day picking up provisions for both himself and for Kirsi, purchasing items such as food, some clothing, a few potions, and a metric ton in fresh tilapia. Kirsi loved her tilapia. Carrying it all in a huge backpack, he proceeded to head for the tavern before getting back to Kirsi. He wasn't sure where his travels would take him this time. Maybe to the grey spire of Khaldarf, or the forbidden city of Gomorrah? Either way, he figured it may be wise to spend the night in Zlelmore, hence why he was looking for an inn to reside in for the night. Kirsi was properly taken care of in the stables outside of the city, and seemed to be comfortable when he left her. Sure, the stable boy may have a hard time keeping her in check, he did look rather astonished when they landed and asked for a nights stay. She was probably allright, playing with the horses, eating buckets of fish and just generally enjoying life. Goran chuckled softly to himself at the imag of Kirsi rolling around in the hay like some cuddly puppy before he saw what he was looking for. The drunken Wench was primarily a tavern, but there were possibilities for staying the night and renting a room if his source was correct. He entered and found a seat in a booth.

Witnessing what just went down from his booth behind where the crude-looking cleric and his friends sat, Goran kept a low profile until the mysterious religious people were gone. He had learned before never to mess with a cult, and though he was pretty sure that the monastery of Zlelmore were legit. Chugging down the last of his Blue Hope drink, he took a deep breath before getting up. H could definitely feel the alcohol's presence in his body, but he was sturdy, and could handle it with relatie ease. Walking towards the bar like a man with a purpose, he poked one of the characters he presumed to be the clerics friends on the shoulder. "Uhm, excuse me." Turning around, he saw that the woman he had poked was a black-clad, blue haired woman with a drink in her hand. She was very beautiful, and Goran fought back the drunken urge to blush. She did, however, also have two fluffy ears and a matching tail. Great. A werewolf. Shaking off any indecent thoughts, he proceeded to speak to her. "Just wanted to let you know that your friend, the cleric? was he with you? Either way, he was carrid away by what looked like a priestess and a man resembling several decades of inbreeding between a gorilla on Mnooshka and an ogre." He stood firmly and awaited her responce, and noticed her companion: A grey-clad blonde with glasses. Looked intelligent, kinda, if not a bit affected by whattever alcohol he had left by the table the cleric was snatched from. "Just wanted to let you know." he repeated.

 

[Tangeh]

Princess Gwendolyn
Zlelmore Tower - > The Drunken Wench

Gwen led the party out of the sorcerer's tower, and they began the arduous trek back down the ridiculous amount of stairs. The Zlelmore guards didn't bother leading them out this time, though they were stationed steadily down the staircase. Sir Emerick held the supply of herbicides - a good number of vials were tucked away in the small travel bag. Dimmy, his dark hood now pulled over his head, caught up to her. “I don't think he is telling us everything, though I'm sure you've suspected it as well, My Lady."

"I have to agree with Dimmy, My Lady," Lyn added. "Something about the whole situation seemed rather strange."

"They have good reason to be concerned, Princess," Sir Emerick added. "Are you certain this is a good idea? A peasant's mission into a dangerous forest?"

Gwen had been wondering the same thing, but now wasn't the time to raise even more concern. Dimmy seemed like a convenient excuse to send her entire party to their deaths - but that wasn't in Zlelmore's best interests... was it? It was just as easy to keep her alive, and on all accounts better for their relationship with the entire realm. "I don't doubt there are ulterior motives at play here..." Gwen said carefully, "but I don't suspect foul play either. It would be unwise for someone in my position to ignore such a basic request from a head of state, and in any case I do need him to stave off my father. He is certainly frantic by this point; I do not normally stray so far from the castle."

"That is putting it lightly, your highness," Sir Emerick noted. Gwen glared her disapproval - it wasn't her fault she didn't get out much.

“Still," Dimmy continued, "I can't promise much, but I should have some pull if you intend to look for allies in Khusha, aside from that a princess should already have.”

"Yloria is fortunate to have good relations with Khusha..." She noted Sir Emerick eyeing her sternly, and continued more carefully. "Yes, well, it is not exactly my place to be involved in such political affairs." She coughed nervously while debating how to continue. "...Though I appreciate your offer, after this detour we will be heading straight to Lochester."

"On what ship, Princess?" Sir Emerick continued. Must he continue to berate her? He was probably displeased at this immense change of plans. As if she wasn't. "The sails of the Marigold were badly damaged, not to mention the deck and hull from the battles waged on her. She isn't seaworthy."

"We will figure out an alternate route," Gwen said firmly. "Perhaps if need be we will go to Khusha, but for now we have another mission to worry about. But that's a task for tomorrow - we are all exhausted, I'm sure. The three of you behaved well during this meeting, so I thank you for that."

As they stepped outside, Lyn spoke up. "I can take us to the marketplace," she offered, smiling politely. "I've lived in the capital for some years now, it would be terrible of me if I forgot how to take you there. There's also an inn nearby we could rest at that I could take you to. Provided the rest of the group haven't found other accommodation, of course."

Gwen nodded. "Excellent. Lead on." The streets of Zlelmore were truly a sight to behold. Busy, cramped, and with the strangest people bustling around on it. A man to Gwen's left offered to sell frog spawn imbued with magical properties. In all the chaos, nobody seemed to recognize that they were in the presence of royalty. A few people stared at her curiously, as if deciding if she could be a Ylorian princess, but there was certainly none of the immediate respect she would gain from appearing anywhere on Ylorian ground. In all fairness, Gwen doubted any Ylorian princess had ever found themselves in a situation like this before...

Lyn led them efficiently to the marketplace, and after peeking into a few bars they found the other half of the group at an inn called 'The Drunken Wench'. Charming. The inside was nicer than Gwen had expected based on the name, though compared to the palace it was certainly a bit of a culture shock. At a table she found Sylvia, Sullivan... some other man... hm, she was missing a soldier. "Have you lost Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third?" Gwen questioned the pair, unimpressed. "If the coward fled, he should hope I do not find him. Else he will be greeted by my sword."

"Perhaps it is for the best, Princess," Sir Emerick suggested, then turned his gaze sharply to the newcomer. Gwen also stared at him. She'd never been in a bar before, and was used to others introducing themselves to her, not the other way around. After all, it would be unusual for somebody not to know her own name. "You are in the presence of royalty. State your name!" Sir Emerick barked at the strange man.

"In any case," Gwen continued, speaking to Sylvia and Sully, "the meeting went smoothly, though there's a bit of a catch. We need to take a detour to Miredom to delivery some herbicides for their grove. We'll have Dimmy to guide us, and Lyn is familiar with the plants. In return we gain Zlelmore's support for my personal mission, and I expect some favours from the contact in Miredom - Sage Celeus - as well." Gwen's attention fell to the bottles of Blue Hope near Sylvia. She smirked, amused at the discovery. "Ah, you took my request not to buy the cheaper stuff seriously. Though, I must say, this isn't exactly what I had in mind." She gently took a seat, after a moment of figuring out how to position herself gracefully on a barstool. "Lyn?" Gwen called. "I will need you to test my food and beverages for the common poisons in Zlelmore. Normally we have a potions master at our dining hall who performs the honour, but I'm sure you can make due."

 

[VampirateMace]

Lord Dimamire Nightshade
Zlelmore Tower > The Drunken Wench

It was good to hear that at least some of the group agreed with him, including the princess' overbearing caretaker, Sir Emerick, who was now in possession of the pesticides. It was clear caution would be their friend in this country. Though the princess seemed to think she was safe enough, and didn't need the help of his countrymen either.

“Of course,” he replied to her thanks of their behaving like civilized beings, before adding, “Your focus is admirable My Lady, but you may find it more helpful to your cause, if you were to regroup occasionally.”

Outside the tower, they followed Lyn, who was apparently a native, to the Marketplace to locate the others. The marketplace was a brightly colored nightmare, lit by the setting sun, crowded with odd people, selling off things. Some of the items actually seemed kind of interesting, truth be told, but the pushy overzealous sales wizards trying to make one last sale, left a lot to be desired. There might actually be some useful items and concoctions here, but Dimmy couldn't think straight enough to consider any of it. He turned his attention instead to keeping close to the group, and avoiding the stall keepers, as they started visiting every pub where they suspected they might find the members of the party who had been sent away on account of looser morals.

Eventually. in the Drunken Wench, they found the other half the group. Well, except for Gemna, drowning in high quality alcohol. And instead the other two were now in the company of a handsome stranger. Dimmy himself did not find the disappearance of the self-righteous brother to be any great loss, but Gwen was furious, threatening to kabob him, should she ever encounter him again.

Jeepers, if ever there was anyone that needed a drink. Speaking of which, Dimmy took a free seat, ignoring the princess' instructing Lyn to test her food. Finding a free glass, he looked it over lightly, not overly concerned if it was unused, since he was pretty much about to sanitize it, and reached for the familiar shaped bottle of Dragon's Breath. Exotic drinks were great and all, the blue one was a particularly fascinating shade, but there was just something superior about a nostalgic homeland classic.

He poured out a serving of the light amber liquid, watching it swish around the bottom of the small glass. Picking up the glass, those less refined might guzzle directly from the bottle, but a gentleman does not, he glanced over at the newcomer and took a sip. He then leaned closer and whispered a warning, not really thinking over how it would sound coming from a vampire out of context, “If you plan to run, you might want to do it now.”

 

[Minteh]

Lyn Grier
Zlelmore Tower > The Drunken Wench

"Excellent. Lead on." The princess nodded, giving her approval for Lyn to lead them. With a small nod of appreciation, Lyn followed through on her offer and began to lead the four of them towards the market. The streets of Zlelmore were certainly a sight to behold. Busy, cramped, and with the strangest of folk making sales where possible. Several years spent working in and around the capital meant that Lyn knew what to expect, but even she was sometimes taken aback by the sheer array of people who wandered the streets selling items. Had they more time, Lyn would have liked to stop at some of the stands and pick up some more potions or salves, but at that moment, it was more important that they meet back up with the rest of the group.

After peeking inside a few potential bars, they eventually found where the other half of the group had gone, coming across an inn called 'The Drunken Wench'. Lyn had never been inside the building before, and had some reservations about what to expect inside based on the name, but was pleasantly surprised to find the inside was much nicer than she expected. Inside they found Sullivan and Sylvia seated at a table, drinking what appeared to Blue Hope. The other member of their group, Genma, seemed nowhere to be found but had instead been replaced by a handsome newcomer, who Lyn couldn't help but stare at for a moment.

"Have you lost Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third?" Gwen asked the pair, her tone suggesting she was rather unimpressed with Genma's disappearance. "If the coward fled, he should hope I do not find him. Else he will be greeted by my sword."

Beside them, Sir Emerick suggested that it might have been for the best. Like Lyn and Gwen, he turned to look at the newcomer, before demanding that he stated his name.

"In any case," Gwen continued speaking to Sullivan and Sylvia, "the meeting went smoothly, though there's a bit of a catch. We need to take a detour to Miredom to delivery some herbicides for their grove. We'll have Dimmy to guide us, and Lyn is familiar with the plants. In return we gain Zlelmore's support for my personal mission, and I expect some favours from the contact in Miredom - Sage Celeus - as well."

Once she had finished explaining this, Lyn looked at the alcohol on the table, missing out on what Gwen said to Sylvia. The alcohol that been bought all seemed to be on the stronger side, much to Lyn's dismay, save for two solitary bottles of Verdant Fey. She could handle a decent amount of alcohol but had never had much of a taste for the stronger stuff, instead preferring to stick simple ciders, ales, or sweet wines. Lyn was about to pour herself a glass of the alcohol when Gwen requested that she tested her food and beverages for the common poisons found in Zlelmore.

Lyn blinked in surprise. "I would be happy to do so, my Lady," she responded with a short smile. She shuffled her chair a little closer to Gwen so that she could easily try her food and beverages.

It took a little while for the food to be bought out, so Lyn tested the Blue Hope first. As to be expected, Lyn recoiled from the strong taste at first but swallowed it down after a moment. She took a second sip to be certain, taking longer to swish it around her mouth, before swallowing. After tasting the alcohol, the group only had to wait a little while longer until a server bought them two trays covered in various dishes of food for them to eat. Gwen's dish was apparently roasted rainbow trout served with a side of greens, though it didn't really look like how it was described. Using her fork and knife she had been given, Lyn cut herself off a piece of the salmon and managed to just about fit at least one small piece of all the vegetables onto her fork. She chewed her forkful for a few moments, savouring the taste, before swallowing.

"I think you will be fine to consume the food and drink here, my Lady. I could not detect any unusual aftertastes, save for the asparagus served with your salmon. I fear they may have overcooked it slightly," she laughed at this for a moment, before continuing. "At any rate, you should be safe to eat and drink to your heart's content. If you do feel unusual afterwards, please don't hesitate to let me know. I don't have many supplies left on me, but I'm certain I could whip up a basic antidote should I need to."

With Gwen seen to, Lyn could finally get herself a drink and some food. She reached over to take the bottle of Verdant Fey and poured herself a glass, which she sipped at occasionally. She also took a small plate of what was supposedly roasted chicken served with some potatoes and greens.

 

[Vern]

Sullivan Van Daal
The Drunken Wench

“Too slow, blondie. I already finished the last one. Why don't you share with your lover over there?” The werewolf replies, glaring at Genma and wiggling her brows in some sort of taunt, before turning back to the barmaid and asking for more of the blue liquor. The two of them had a quick exchange that Sullivan couldn’t hear over the hubbub of the bar, and he saw some gold coins change hands.

“Stop projecting your own desires onto me.” Sullivan yawns, “Just because you want to bang him doesn’t mean I do.” Swaying slightly under the alcohol’s influence, he stands up and makes his way to the bar, plopping himself down on the only free chair, which happens to be next to Sylvia, and ordering a mug of beer. “She’s paying,” he says when the barmaid motioned for some coins, pointing at the werewolf.

The two of them don’t really talk, simply sitting there and drinking their liquor for a bit. Before either can start a conversation, an unfamiliar man pops up behind them, poking Sylvia on the shoulder.

“Uhm, excuse me,” he says, looking like he’s trying really hard not to blush — a fact that Sully doesn’t fail to pick up on, “Just wanted to let you know that your friend, the cleric? Was he with you? Either way, he was carried away by what looked like a priestess and a man resembling several decades of inbreeding between a gorilla on Mnooshka and an ogre.” Only now does the man look at Sullivan, probably having been too caught up in staring at the beauty sitting next to him. Not that he’s surprised — regardless of what he himself thinks of her, wolfie is certainly eye-catching, standing out like a sore thumb in this otherwise rather posh tavern. “Just wanted to let you know.”

“Huh, that monk guy?” Sully responds, swivelling around in his chair to face the newcomer, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Someone took him? Ah, that’s too bad.” He shrugs nonchalantly, letting out a mildly drunken laugh, then stands up and loops his arm around the newcomer’s shoulder. “Well, what’s in the past is in the past! What’s your name, buddy?” Ignoring the guy’s protests, he drags him to the bar and plops him down on the seat he had just been sitting on, leaning on the counter between him and Sylvia. “Come, come!” He laughs almost mockingly, "Join us as we drink away our sorrows at his untimely passing.”

Before anything else can happen, they’re interrupted yet again — this time, by the rest of the party.

“Have you lost Brother Genma Valerious Windcaler the Third?” The princess is the first to open her mouth, addressing Sully and Sylvia. “If the coward fled, he should hope I do not find him. Else he will be greeted by my sword.”

“He’s gone back to the monastery,” Sullivan laughs in response, “Was kidnapped by some weirdos in robes.”

“Perhaps it is for the best, Princess,” Sir Emerick suggests, then turning to look at the newcomer with a menacing look on his face, “You are in the presence of royalty. State your name!”

“In any case,” The princess continues, “the meeting went smoothly, though there’s a bit of a catch. We need to take a detour to Miredom. We'll have Dimmy to guide us, and Lyn is familiar with the plants. In return we gain Zlelmore's support for my personal mission, and I expect some favours from the contact in Miredom - Sage Celeus - as well.” And then, on a lighter note — “Ah, you took my request not to buy the cheaper stuff seriously. Though, I must say, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

While the princess made herself comfortable, Sully turns back to the still-unnamed newcomer just in time to see Dimmy lean over his shoulder and say, in a whisper, “If you plan to run, you might want to do it now.”

“Now is definitely a good time.” Sully laughs, patting the man on the shoulder and giving him a gentle electric shock as he does, “But you gotta admit, this whole thing is pretty interesting — why don'tcha tag along? You’ve got that whole ‘I wanna go on an adventure look', after all -- hey, wolfie, can I borrow that?” He leans backwards and swipes a bottle of liquor from beside Sylvia without looking at its contents, and all but forces it into the man’s hands. “Here, have this. Things are probably gonna go to **** soon, so drink up and enjoy yourself while you can -- you probably won't get free liquor of this quality for the rest of your life.”

 

[Schade]

✧-------------------~✪~-------------------✧
Goran Labolas Sanguine
The drunken wench
​

“Huh, that monk guy?” the drunk robed guy responded, Goran was almost hit in the face by the mask he had clutched to the side of his face. Someone took him? Ah, that’s too bad.”He shrugs nonchalantly, letting out a mildly drunken laugh. It was mildly unsettling. "Oh, I just figured.. Since you were sitting together..? uhm.. ok?" Goran couldn't really say anything else before he felt the weight of the robed guy around his shoulders. “Well, what’s in the past is in the past! What’s your name, buddy?” Goran tried to protest, but was dragged along towards the bar counter, and was plopped down between himself and the werewolf woman. “Come, come!” He laughs almost mockingly, "Join us as we drink away our sorrows at his untimely passing.”. "Well this seems most inappropriate.." Goran started, trying to wriggle his way out of the situation.

“Have you lost Brother Genma Valerious Windcaler the Third?” A voice then said, addresing the werewolf and the drunk robed guy. “If the coward fled, he should hope I do not find him. Else he will be greeted by my sword.”. Looking over his shoulder, Goran saw a very annoyed, Green clad, purple haired very obvious princess of Yloria. He quickly turned back to the counter and made himself as tiny as he could, pretty much hiding behind the glass, fooling literally no one.

trying to avoid the rest of the conversation, Goran pleaded to the gods that the group would leave him alone. Dreams which were shattered before they fully took form. “Perhaps it is for the best, Princess,” a stern-looking knight said before turning to Goran with probably the scariest face in the history of scary faces. rivalling that of the dragons of the north, the sea witch of the south, and his own grandma Dorris of the east. “You are in the presence of royalty. State your name!”. That's when it all clicked for him. He had not been mistaking, the woman was the princess. doing a complete topsy turvy on his own attitude, Goran sprung to his feet as if shocked in his cute little bum by an electromancer. he bowed deeply, ifnot a bit hurried to the princess.

"My name is Kn.. Er.. Goran Labolas Sanguine. I hail form the kingdom of Khusha, your majesty!" he said while bowing so deep he could smell his own toes. time to change socks perhaps? Reacting courtfully to his introduction, the princess of Yloria then started mumbeling about a meeting, and something about the mushroom kingdom. Still in awe at the situation, Goran didn't really know what to do with himself.

As Goran was contemplating what to do, one of the group of newcomers, a vampire by the looks of it, leaned in towards him. “If you plan to run, you might want to do it now.”, he said in a threatening tone. He had a point. This was way above Gorans head, and if they learned about his background, things might not look too well for him. However, this would be a golden oppurtunity for him to atone for past actions. The vampire really struck a nerve, and Goran thought long and well before looking the undead beast right in the eyes. "Bring it on, sucker" he said.

“Now is definitely a good time.” the robed man laughed before pulling Goran back into a shoulder-hug. Goran could definitely feel a certain shock by the guy. He flinched in return. “But you gotta admit, this whole thing is pretty interesting — why don'tcha tag along? You’ve got that whole ‘I wanna go on an adventure look', after all -- hey, wolfie, can I borrow that?” The wolf remained unresponsive as she was before. “Here, have this. Things are probably gonna go to **** soon, so drink up and enjoy yourself while you can -- you probably won't get free liquor of this quality for the rest of your life.”. Feeling he had no other alternative, Goran accepted, and chugged the glass' contents. It was sweet, blue and very very much alcoholic. He double checked to see that he had his Wyvern-riding liscence on him before going too far.

 

[Monster Guy]

Veronica Lance
Zlelmore Castle > Bar

Upon entering the head sorcerer's chambers, Veronica did a low curtsy, as one should do when in the presence of the head sorcerer. He was the most powerful person in the room, you better show him respect. Even though she was lived in Yloria, she was raised by Zlelmorian parents, and spent most of her time there during her school years. She knew what was expected.

Veronica remained quiet during most of the exchange, like she normally does, and listened to what was being said. She hoped that the sorcerer wouldn't say anything to her specifically, and was relieved that he only wanted to speak to Gwen. She wouldn't know what to do if she had to answer for her mother and father's crimes.

From the way Gilkore spoke, it sounded like he had something to hide, but Veronica wasn't at all concerned. She knew that feeling all to well. If he didn't want to involve strangers from another nation into his affairs, that was his perrogative.

Gilkore proposed a deal between himself and the princess. He wanted to borrow Dimmy to deliver some herbicide to Miredom, as vampires were immune to the effects of the toxic forest surrounding the village. The Vampire didn't seem at all amused with the idea of being an errand boy, but he kept quiet. As well he should. After agreeing to those terms, Gilkore made a final plea for her to seek allies in Khusha before the meeting concluded with the bottles being brought to them. Veronica bowed once again, before heading out with the others.

They descended down the stairs, with her other companions voicing their opinions about their meeting. As per usual, Veronica kept quiet. Even if she did have anything useful to contribute, no one would want to hear her opinions anyway.

Outside the tower, Lyn offered to lead them through the marketplace to locate the others. Now, Veronica knew she could conjure a Will-o-wisp that could locate them, but she would need a personal belonging of their to do that. Since she didn't have that, she followed Lyn along with everyone else.

They walked through the busy marketplace, going into every bar they came across. Eventually found where the other half of the group had gone, coming across an inn called 'The Drunken Wench'. Veronica never went into bars, and wasn't enthused about going into this one, but what choice did she have?

The inside of the place was certainly nicer than she had expected given the name. They found two of there three missing members sitting at a table. That idiotic, self-righteous man with the obnoxiously long name was name was missing. Gwen was furious that he had fled, but all Veronica could do was shrug her shoulders and mutter, "Good riddance if you ask me." There was a new person at the table, but Veronica didn't at all care about meeting yet another stranger.

She then took a seat at the table, and ordered some food for herself, along with a glass of water. She got weird looks from some people when she asked for water, but Veronica wasn't one for drinking alcohol, and getting into a drunken stupor. In order to use magic effectively, one must be of sound mind, and be in control at all times. Otherwise, bad things could happen.

Veronica silently ate her food, and observed everyone else.

 

[*Jean Grey*]

Sylvia Edelstein
The Drunken Wench

Sylvia was chugging more of her drink as Sully planted himself on the stool next to hers, ordering a beer as he did.

“She’s paying,” he said, his voice slightly slurred, pointing at her as the barmaid asked for more coins. Sylvia shrugged and tossed one more gold one onto the counter. The barmaid smirked at her, before glancing at the top of Sylvia's head and giving her a funny, rather curious look.

"Where did you get that?" She asked, motioning towards what Sylvia presumed to be the headpiece she wore atop her head. "Isn't that...Lochesterian? Did you steal it?" The blue-haired woman quickly nodded as she took another gulp of her drink.

"My father was a thief, or at least I think he was," she replied, a bit too honestly. She didn't know for sure, but there really was no other plausible explanation in her mind. The only thing she was certain of was that her father had given it to her mother. Such a thing wasn't easy for any average Lochesterian citizen to get his hands on...he had to be a Thief, and a great one at that, to be able to get his hands on what she assumed to be a royal heirloom. Her mother once told her never to begrudge him...that there were just circumstances she could not control that made her leave him. He had a heart of gold, her mother told her, and Sylvia vaguely remembered many a night in their dilapidated one-room shack, when her mom would softly hum a certain lullaby - one whose words now mostly eluded the werewolf, save for one line.

When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen...

Perhaps her father thought so highly of her mother, that he went so far as to steal a supposedly royal heirloom to make her smile, and perhaps, make her feel like a queen. Her mother certainly treasured it, seeing as she always held on to it, even though she could’ve very well sold it for a high price. That still did not explain his absence, however. She was so lost in her own thoughts that when she felt someone poke her shoulder, she hardly acknowledged it. The voice behind her talked about how their "cleric friend" had been carried away by two people. Did he mean Genma? Sully confirmed this.

“Huh, that monk guy? Someone took him? Ah, that’s too bad.” He drunkenly laughed before welcoming him. “Well, what’s in the past is in the past! What’s your name, buddy?” Sylvia tuned out of the conversation - and the others’ arrival - her mind still focused on what the barmaid has asked her. She recalled her mother’s dying words from twenty years ago - Beware the wolf, my girl, and may your father find you...before the wolf does. She hadn’t been able to avoid the wolf, of course, and her lycanthropy was proof of that. That probably meant that she wasn’t about to get answers anytime soon, of course.

It took the princess addressing her to shake her out of her thoughts.

"In any case, the meeting went smoothly, though there's a bit of a catch. We need to take a detour to Miredom to delivery some herbicides for their grove. We'll have Dimmy to guide us, and Lyn is familiar with the plants. In return we gain Zielmore’s support for my personal mission, and I expect some favours from the contact in Miredom - Sage Celeus - as well." Sylvia abandoned what she had been thinking about minutes earlier, and took another gulp of her drink. Miredom? Wasn’t it pretty close to Lostacre? She heard the wolves mention that place more than once during her stay at the settlement, and she heard the stories about the strange flora of the area. The werewolves were the ones who advised her to forget crossing into Miredom and head to the capital instead, some years back. They warned her of the poisonous plants, and that she was better off not risking anything. She didn’t understand why they dreaded Miredom, however, and she decided right then and there that this could be shoos opportunity to check the place out and find out what exactly about Miredom the werewolves feared. Before she could comment, however, she noticed the princess’ lilac eyes fall upon the bottles of alcohol. The younger woman smirked, and the werewolf raised an eyebrow, whistled and stuck out her tongue.

“Ah, you took my request not to buy the cheaper stuff seriously. Though, I must say, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.” At this, Sylvia shrugged and grinned wolfishly.

“We’re in Zielmore, so we might as well drink some of the good stuff. Royal wine is everywhere, the way rabbits fuck, and we only live once, you know?” She rationalized, taking a bottle and offering it to Gwen. The princess then requested Lyn to check if any of the alcohol and food were poisoned.

Sylvia then took this opportunity to study the newcomer. He was a redhead, not too bad-looking and dressed in distinct dragon-riding armor. Already, Sully had swiped some more of the Blue Hope for him to try out, the blond pouring a glassful and the newcomer obliging. Sylvia recalled him mentioning that he was from Khusha, yet his accent...told her a different story. She faced him, crossed her arms and gave him a look of suspicion. Anyone could be a Lochesterian spy working for the tyrant queen, and frankly, she had enough of Lochesterian spies for the day.

“Are you really from Khusha, Red?” The werewolf deadpanned.

 

[VampirateMace]

Lord Dimamire Nightshade
The Drunken Wench

A light blush of anger swelled over Dimmy's cheeks as he processed the new guy's reply. Maybe he'd not thought his comment out, but that was uncalled for. Of all the rude, insensitive racists things, and from someone who was just a pathetic human, no less. Humans always thought they were better then everyone else, just look at the princess. Well, okay, she really was a princess.

And worse, to think he’d thought the man, Goran apparently, attractive. And it was too early to blame that on the alcohol, not that a gentleman would drink enough to need to blame anything on the alcohol. Sully however ignored all this, and rode off Dimmy's comment. He seemed to think Goran looked up for anything, and proceeded to encourage him to drink mass quantities before their probably ill-fated adventure.

Dimmy watched with the cold stare of a vampire as the man drained his cup, and then checked for something on his person, before retaliating. It would be rather unfair to staff if they spilled alcohol, and the man's search put him at an unfavorable angle. But he could wait. Dimmy was standing now, and there was soft smack as his hand connected 'hard' with the side of Goran's face. Which, given the fact vampires are no where near as strong as people like to pretend, was not really all that hard. His disgust came out clearly though, “I'll have you know I'm a Lord in the service of a Princess. And I will not be talked to like that.”

A server was arriving with meals now, and Dimmy took the moment's distraction to use his inhuman agility to put himself beyond immediate reach, passing her and making his way to the other side of the table. He swiped a chair from an empty table and sat near those on the other side. All while not spilling a drop of Dragon's Breath.

Here he'd be able to hear the conversation, but leave at anytime he wished, not that he'd go too far since he still wanted access to the princess' resources to find his mother. He just hoped he could stand this group for that long, well, hopefully being over here he could ignore Goran at least. He wasn't worried about any penalties the princess would try to inflict on him though, as she had no real authority over him.

He heard the werewolf girl asking Goran now, and asking if he was really from Khusha. Dimmy snickered softly at her question; he'd said that? Well, he certainly wasn't born there, if that accent was anything to judge.

 

[Tangeh]

Princess Gwendolyn
The Drunken Wench

As Gwen expected, Lyn politely agreed to test the food brought out. Sir Emerick waved a waiter over and Gwen ordered what was listed as 'roasted rainbow trout, fished fresh from the Crystal River, with a side of greens'. The Crystal River ran through both Zlelmore and Yloria, so it felt like a safe and familiar food to sample.

Once the order was placed, Gwen watched curiously as Lyn tested the Blue Hope. Sir Emerick furrowed his brow, and his stern gaze deepened when Sylvia offered Gwen a bottle of royal wine. "You are welcome to drink it yourself, but there is no need to sample it for Her Highness. She is not allowed such beverages outside of formal events."

Gwen accepted the bottle anyways, reading the label with interest. Of all the things her father could be mad at her for, this seemed very, very low on the list. "Honestly, is there really much harm?" Gwen questioned, reaching next for the bottle of Blue Hope. "Lyn has been kind enough to test this for me. It would be rude to ignore it." She took a quick swig from the bottle before Emerick could protest further, shivering as it burned her throat, but Emerick hastily swiped it out of her grasp.

"That is enough," he scolded disapprovingly, placing the bottle back on the table out of Gwen's reach.

Gwen didn't argue. She hadn't been planning on having more than a curious taste anyways. "It was stronger than I expected, but lovely nonetheless," Gwen stated politely.

The trout was served soon afterwards, but the presentation was unusual - it appeared to be fire-roasted on a stick, turning most of the fish a charcoal black. The vegetables were sparse and lackluster, and Gwen wasn't even sure what most of them were. Lyn gave her seal of approval after giving the items a quick taste, but Gwen prodded the meal uncertainly with her fork. "Asparagus, is that what this is? Er, well, alright." It wasn't lady-like to make a scene over dinner of all things, and besides, she was hungry enough that it barely mattered. Maybe it was for that reason that the fish tasted fine to her, but at least she had little problem finishing it.

After she had finished, she pushed several gold coins over to Lyn. "It would be unwise for us to continue on low supplies." She scanned the bar for Veronica and found her silently eating away from the rest of the crowd. "I expect you're familiar with the marketplace in Zlelmore, but if you need directions I expect any graduate of Zlelmore Magical Academy should be able to point you in the right direction," she implored, staring pointedly at Veronica as she spoke.

Gwen hadn't noticed until now that Sir Emerick was not at his usual post of her hip. She looked behind herself and found him peering over the shoulder of the newcomer, who had introduced himself as Goran. He looked like a typical knight to her - perhaps better looking than most, if she was being honest - but leave it to Emerick to discover something different about him. "That's a wyvern riding license," Emerick stated matter-of-factly, looking at Slyvia. Clearly Gwen had missed some pieces of conversation. "I don't see how he could be from anywhere other than Khusha if he holds one. Do you have a dragon, knight?" Emerick said commandingly, his tone and stern gaze demanding an immediate answer.

This piqued Gwen's interest. Dragon riders were rare and - like many oddities - feared and outlawed by Lochester. She stood and curiously went to join the conversation. "We are one man down in an already weakened party, and I cannot ignore the fact that fate has landed you conveniently in the very bar we took refuge in tonight," Gwen continued. "As Princess of Yloria, I hereby legally conscript you to help escort me to Lochester. You will of course be paid for your services - "

"Princess," Sir Emerick interrupted. "We are not in Yloria. Your words hold no legal consequence here."

Gwen paused for a moment in confusion, the concept of her words holding no legal value foreign to her. "Fine," she continued, "then I will leave you with this, soldier: you have the choice to stand by and watch Lochester take control of the realm piece by piece, or you can come with me and have the rare opportunity to do something about it. I don't care about your political views - if you don't want your dragon slaughtered by mindless Lochesterian laws in the years to come, then you have no choice." She backed away, now addressing her party at large. The entire bar had quieted curiously to listen to this strange woman who claimed to be the princess of a neighbouring land. Gwen made eye contact with each member of her patchwork crew. "We sleep here, and leave at dawn."

...
​

Gwen slept poorly. The small cramped rooms they had been put up in for the night did not filter out the noisy bar patrons particularly well, the bed was lumpy and creaky, and it had an odd musty scent to it. What's more, Emerick was in full overprotective knight mode and refused to sleep, not at all trusting the place, though Gwen suspected he eventually nodded off in the armchair for an hour or two. Typically she and her father stayed at the Zlelmore Castle, and while she was decently certain they wouldn't have denied her a bed for the night, she doubted they would willingly house an entire crew that they knew were planning on storming Lochester - the fact that the possibility wasn't even offered spoke volumes. If she was honest, she doubted she would have slept any better there either... even without worrying about the likely possibility that her crew would have escaped in the middle of the night. Emerick was on high alert for this possibility as well, ready to discipline any of them for breaking Ylorian law for abandoning their post. Well, except technically Goran; he was free to leave, but Gwen was hopeful he would stay.

Gwen was up with the sun, not fully rested and sore from her scuffles yesterday, but determined not to let it show. She inadvertently roused Emerick as she got ready for the morning, pretending to ignore the fact that he had been dosing. He hid his exhaustion a lot poorer than Gwen, and grumbled his irritation as he left to wash up. Gwen ended up descending down the stairs to the main bar area without him, something she was sure she would be scolded for later despite having her sword on her, and found that the chefs had already cooked them a large breakfast buffet - she suspected they realized they were housing royalty, probably helped by the magical royal carriages awaiting them outside, overseen by several members of the Zlelmore royal guard.

 

[Minteh]

Lyn Grier
The Drunken Wench

Lyn ate her food quietly, not really speaking to the rest of the group, but listening quietly to what they were saying. Lyn had barely finished her meal before the princess slid over several gold coins. Green eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the gesture. She wasn't entirely sure if it was out of gratitude for ensuring her food was not poisoned or something else entirely. However, she realized it was soon the latter when the princess spoke again. "It would be unwise for us to continue on low supplies." She told Lyn, her eyes searching for someone. "I expect you're familiar with the marketplace in Zlelmore, but if you need directions I expect any graduate of Zlelmore Magical Academy should be able to point you in the right direction," she implored, staring pointedly at Veronica as she spoke.

Lyn nodded and hastily put the coins in her bag, where they clinked against one of the vials inside. "Thank you," Lyn said, offering a polite smile, "I'll be sure to grab some supplies before morning."

When Lyn looked back up Sir Emerick was demanding to know if the newcomer owned a dragon. Much like Gwen, Lyn's curiosity piqued at this, and she could not help but look over at the group. Lyn had never met a dragon rider before. They were quite rare of course, so that was to be expected, but she also knew they had a fearsome reputation and for good reason. Gwen had stood and gone over to join the conversation and almost immediately conscripted the man into her service, clearly hoping to bolster the party again now that Genma had gone missing. However, as Emerick was quick to point out, as they were no longer in Yloria, her word no longer held any legal consequence. Clearly, this did not faze her, as left him with the option of joining them. Stating that he would have the opportunity to do something about the Lochestrians taking over the realm. It was certainly a rousing speech, Lyn would give her that. Her words had also garnered a considerable amount of attention, as Lyn was aware of the bar becoming virtually silent, as the other customers had stopped to listen to a woman claiming to be a princess.

Gwen then proceeded to make eye contact with each member of the group. "We sleep here, and leave at dawn."

Since it was already growing dark by that point, Lyn decided that she would need to head out to resupply soon, or risk not being able to do so in the morning. Rising from her seat, she walked over to Veronica, who was still sat eating away from the rest of the group. "Hey Veronica, did you want to come with me to get some more supplies?" Lyn asked, patting her bag as she did so, making the gold Gwen had given her clink again. "I don't think we'll get much mind you, but I definitely need some more draughts. Besides I'd appreciate the company. The streets of Zlelmore aren't always that safe at night, as I'm sure you'll understand."

As the two made to leave, Lyn paused again, and turned back to the group, eyes searching for someone. "Goran, was it?" She called out, green eyes staring directly at the newcomer. "Would you like to join us?"

***

Lyn awoke from her slumber feeling groggy but otherwise well-rested. She had come to bed a little later than some of the others, having left with Veronica and Goran to resupply, and coming back much later in the night. Despite Gwen imploring them to get more supplies, Lyn had been unable to find much with the coin she was given but traded away a few cuttings for other items. She had bought some more healing draughts and some roots that would ease any pain if chewed on. She had also bought some miscellaneous ingredients that she deemed to be helpful, carefully wrapping them up so as not to damage them or mix them up with the other items. On their own, they weren't much use, save for some of the berries, but she could easily put them into a poultice if need be. On her journey back, she had gone by Gunther's shop, quietly hoping that her mentor would be there. However, a sign tacked to the front of the door revealed that he was currently out on business. He had listed another healer - who Lyn recognized as the name of another of her predecessors - as an alternative should anyone have any queries whilst he was gone.

With Gunther not at the shop, Lyn returned to the inn and hurried back to the inn and went straight to bed, almost colliding with another customer in the halls in her hurry. She was certain she must have woken someone with all the noise she had made. The bed was lumpy and creaky, and every time Lyn moved, it seemed to groan. When she got used to the sound, she did eventually drift off to sleep, seeming to wake up almost as quickly as she had fallen to sleep. After waking up Lyn had come downstairs as quietly as possible, careful not to make much noise after what happened the night before. To her surprise, the chefs had been very busy that morning and had prepared a large breakfast buffet for them.

"They really went all out, huh," Lyn commented, as she got a closer look on what was on offer.

 

[VampirateMace]

Lord Dimamire Nightshade
The Drunken Wench

Dimmy kept his thoughts to himself as he sipped the spicy liquor. The conversation seemed to be winding down, other then the princess sending some of the others off to buy supplies, and cosigning Goran as well. Dimmy rolled his eyes, now he had to put up with this guy's crap long term? He was seriously starting to wonder what the hell he'd agreed to. All for a woman he didn't even know if wanted to see or know him.

Not too long after Gwen announced they'd be sleeping there, and Lyn started to prepare to leave, taking some others, including Goran, with her. After a moment Dimmy dropped his glass back onto the table with a light clink and stood up. He addressed the remaining party members, though mostly looking at the princess, “I'll see you in the morning then.”

Goran was well out of sight now, so he felt comfortable heading for the door. Should Sir Emerick try to stop him, he only needed to offer that he was off to do what vampires do, and that the Good Sir wouldn't want to put the princess in danger by preventing him from doing it. As fate or luck would have it, Sir Emerick either realized that on his own, or was too busy trying to keep the princess from drinking. Of course finding someone to drink from was another issue entirely. Thankfully, the seeder the area of town, the more likely you were to find someone willing to sell blood for money.

***

Dimmy lay awake on the small bed, was this actually a bed? It seemed like more of a cot. Dimmy lay awake on the small cot in the early hours of the morning, staring at the ceiling. This was hell, literal hell. He could hear the patrons below, even at this hour, as well as multiple people snoring, and had gotten very little sleep. At some point his head had started pounding. Yeah that tended to happen when you had low constitution and were sleep deprive, oh, and it tended to happen when you had gotten your blood from someone who was willing to sell their blood, which was never a good sign in the first place. Because who knows what they'd had in their system?

At some point, when the sun streaming through the window became to much to bare, he went to wash up, then stumbled down the stairs with his hood already up. The princess and her taste tester were already down here, as well as a sickening breakfast buffet. Nothing about the sun, the smells, or the noise was aiding his headache. He helped himself to the simplest blandest breakfast of tea and a slice of plain toast, and made his way to a table, where he ended up just sitting there staring at the slice of toast from under his hood.