"You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.

Mysaren eyed Historia as she spoke, downing her own drink and sighing. Kid was sharing a lot of information to someone she just met. She heard the racket of the band behind her and rolled her eyes, starting to rub her temples. She was going to need a couple more drinks for this. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mysaren. I was born somewhere and did a lot of things. It's not wise to start spouting life stories to people, kid. People will use it against you, you know. Hopes and dreams." She had done it before, and she didn't like it, not one bit. She shrugged, looking down her cup to see if she had anything left. Nothing. She pushed her plate and cup to the side and spun around, leaning back on the bar. She knew about body language, and if she was going to last a minute in this place, then she would have to look confident. She noticed that the orc, maybe an ogre, was talking to some rat fellow and another man over somewhere else. There was also a lizard guy sitting next to her, blowing smoke all over the bar, smoke that made her feel a bit... weird. She swiped the smoke away with her hand and watched the rest of the bar carefully.

Rouen was laying on the ground. Eyes closed in pain, he sat up and rubbed his head. He felt something nudge him in the side. "No trouble. Although this fault would be mine," he replied and opened an eye towards the stranger. He was greeted with the sight of a large, very large pale cat. "What th-!" he yelled as his face immediately reflected panic and he instinctively jumped away from the predator. His right hand immediately moved to the hilt of the sword on his back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure of a woman. She was dressed in hunting garments typical leather boots, brown pants, and a green garment. The shock in his face was visible as he saw her missing arm."Fabric looks rather plain, probably some local village peasant girl," he thought. Rouen shifed his attention back onto the cat who didn't seem to be in too much of a threatening posture. He moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword and back down. "Um, that creature wouldn't be yours would it villager?" he asked.

((Ignore double post))

Kat just stared at him, eyebrow raised, as the stranger's face went through the typical set of expressions people made when faced with her and Hel for the first time. Panic, to shock, to confusion. Yup. Every time. Hel gave a little growl when the man reached for his sword, but he backed off soon enough as he finally began to understand the situation. The stranger then began to look her over, evaluating, and Kat did the same. He was dirty and unshaven, but still clearly someone with some important title – the massive pauldron he wore on his shoulder and the blade he carried spoke to that. So some knight, then. He certainly looked the part under all that grime… he was so big that if he hugged someone, he'd probably squeeze the life right out of them. It's no wonder the horse threw him off, Kat snarked to herself. Poor beast was probably protesting all this weight. She blinked then at his next choice of words. Villager. It'd been a very long time since Kat had belonged to any village. Hel once again raised his hackles at the knight when he called the snow leopard a pet, and Kat just smirked, brushing her fingers through his fur to calm him. "You don't bite him, he won't bite back," she said as an answer. Pushing herself up, she brushed her hand on her pants and looked down at him. Hel took a step in front of her, putting his shoulders between the girl and the knight. Apparently, he was still a bit sore at being called a 'pet.' Some song was playing in the tavern that Kat really didn't care for, but for some reason or other, she was feeling less tired as she stretched her neck. Perhaps a nap in the woods wasn't so necessary after all. "Your horse is long gone, by the way. Probably still running for its life." She eyed him again, lingering on the metal pauldron and oversized sword. Really, oversized was a good word to summarize him as a whole. Have fun lugging yourself to the closest horse trader.

"Oh, right..." she says in response to Sessamaru's answer to her previous question. She then notices Felan walk in and she smiles. "Give me one more minute, Sess." She flits over to Felan and says, "Usual, right?" She does not wait for an answer. Instead, she flies over to the cook herself and calls for Felan's usual. She then sits at the counter and waits for a few minutes, taking drink orders at the bar, the ones that the thief so loving bought for everyone. She quickly fills their orders and then looks back to see the cook is done with Felan's order. She quickly grabs it, passes out the rest of the drinks, and flies quickly back over to Felan and sets the plate down in front of him. "Here you go, darling!" she says with a gracious smile on her face. She then notices music playing for the first and she looks over to see Viggo. She sighs and rolls her eyes, walking over to him. "Hey, Viggo! What have we told you about casting spells on paying customers?" Naida yells, looking at the musician. She has not been affected by the spell because she is so used to him casting it. Also, her mermaid/faerie background makes it hard for spells to be cast on her. "You can keep playing, but take the spell off, mate. We don't need a riot just in case that spell goes wrong." She rolls her eyes at the guy again, but she flits quickly back over to the counter, grabs him a few more beers, and sets them down next to him, hoping that he won't order anymore afterwards. If this guy got drunk... Naida shakes her head and flies back over to Sessamaru, landing lightly next to him. "Do you think that will get him to stop casting spells on customers?" she asks him with a sigh. She runs a hand over her face and says, "I don't know why he does it. He should be able to get money on his own. This tavern isn't the only place in the realm to get money. Also, casting a spell on drunk people..." She grits her teeth and shakes her head before she grins at Sessamaru. She looks out the window and sees Kat talking to a knight-looking person, one that she hasn't seen around very often. She nudges Sess and asks, "Who's that?"

"Goddamn, that racket..." the old Zizz mumbled to himself some more as he let the herbal sensation roll around on the inside of his toothy snout. It would appear as though the newfangled magic rays of the man... woman... something-or-other had counteracted the calming essence of his Pipe. To take his mind off it, he eavesdropped on the two ladies conversing next to him. One of them, a winged girl who he vaguely recalled catching a glimpse of for a fraction of a second before, looked a bit strange, but that was, ironically, not very strange to a man like Rimau. The other one he didn't recognise, but he couldn't help but nod to himself as he listened to her talk about the dangers of naivete. Valuable stuff to teach a kid, of which there were too many who weren't taught that. Good news for him, though, was the re-appearance of Miss Naida, possibly the prettiest and most efficient bartender this side of... anywhere, really. The grin came back to him as he removed his Pipe and began to ramble to her. "Well, well, if it ain't my favourite bartender for the past week? Y'know, most bartenders I've seen don't 'ave wings an' can't flit about everywhere in a storm all fancy-like, an' that's pretty crazy 'cause it makes yer job real easy. Like, mint cash for nothin'-level easy. Reminds me o' this guy I saw once who set up his own bean farm, an'... well, it was pretty complicated, like, he had to sign a good mountain o' paperwork to even get 'imself the pen to sign the first of fifty million contracts with, an' there were, like, several thousand clauses designed to extort yer outta yer first-born son's soul... why's it always the first-born son, anyway? I mean, what 'ave all the devils got against the ladies? Hell, for that matter, why's it always virgin sacrifices? I'da thought the more experienced types would'a been considered, 'cause if yer gonna kill someone for some crazy kid in the sky, why bother bein' fussy? As if they 'ad standards all of a sudden? Pfft. That's a big problem we got nowadays, there ain't no professional standards, like that kid over there with his crappy 'music', an' if that were written down, that'd be in inverted commas, 'cause quite frankly, I dunno what he thinks he's achievin' tryin' to brainwash us into givin' him money with his fancy-shmancy magic rays. Look at 'at, backfire! I just got the courage to speak out against the lack o' professional standards in this day an' age! I remember a time an' a place where if you didn't 'ave standards, bullet to the 'ead fer you, hahahaha! Ahhh..." It only then dawned on him that she might not be particularly interested in his rambling, especially after he noticed her mumbling to some other kid, the one with dog ears glued to his skull. He took another puff of his Pipe to clear his head again. It was too early to be making a bad impression. "Sorry 'bout that, y'know I get a lil'... distracted when I ain't workin'. Anyways, lovely miss Naida, I don't s'pose y'could get me m'mornin' glass o' Orange Juice? I don't get these kiddos, I mean, look at 'em! Drinkin' Ale in the mornin'?! What kinda conduct is 'at? I once saw this one lady who drank a keg o' ale one Saturday mornin', an' lemme tell ya... uh... never mind. Y'ad to be there, anyways."

Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...

Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.

Historia quietly listened to the advice Miss Mysaren shared with her, noticing that Miss Claire was also in agreement. Historia smiled at the both of them cheerfully. "I don't quite believe I gave that much away." She told them. "Anybody with any knowledge of the Anemoi islands would know that's where I hail from. It's the only place that I know of where you can find my race. My name is my name, I would have to be really in trouble if I was trying to hide it. And for what else I told you, it's what happened a week ago in this very Tavern, and there's not much there to use against me, but I do appreciate the advice. There's not a lot of people here that be so kind to do that." Plus...if they really wanted dirt on Historia...well, her wings were more than enough really to a specific few. She paused a moment, wondering if perhaps anyone was looking for her. She really hadn't thought of it till now... Historia was pulled from her thoughts when Miss Claire said that it didn't seem like Historia had anything to hide and that was magical. "Ah, thank you Miss Claire." Historia told her, smiling even brighter. "But if I'm to refrain from speaking of my past, we should perhaps find something else to talk about...it'll hopefully take my mind off the music that currently playing." She told them with a hint of annoyance. Historia had no problem with the music itself. It was the spell that went with it. Not that Historia had any problems with magic either (though it wasn't till recently that she had even first got exposed to magic in general), but she didn't like for spells to be casted on her without her permission. This spell in particular made her wings twitch, like she should just get up and fly right out of the Tavern and into the wild blue yonder. Which would not have been a good plan as she did not have the funds to leave yet. "So," Historia said, pulling up her googles to rub her eyes, trying to be less annoyed as annoyance could lead to poor judgement. "Is there anything you two would like to discuss?"

The music playing was magic, Mysaren could tell that much. At least, it made her feel irrationally... angry. Courageous. She wanted to fight and argue against almost everyone near her. She swallowed her anger and clenched her fists, gritting her teeth impatiently. She wanted to bash in the head of that idiot that was playing the music that made her feel weird, she wanted to fight the orc that was standing across the room, she wanted to use her sword on the useless rat beside her that was blowing smoke all over the place. She had the courage to do it now, but didn't, she resisted her urges. Who let this moron play music like this in a tavern? Mysaren let a grin tug at the side of her mouth as she listened to Historia, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry for uhm, the advice, Historia," She said, letting her dark blue eyes scan over Historia again. She wished she could be like that, naive and carefree. "It's just that, well, where I come from, telling people hopes and dreams is kinda a death wish. I didn't mean to offend you, of course." She still didn't feel comfortable telling anyone where she was from, but her accent probably clued them in that she wasn't from around these parts. "Not much. I would like to know where maybe I could sell a few family heirlooms. " She said. Mysaren was also well aware of how a good lie worked. One, you never added too much detail unless questioned. Too many details, and you look suspicious, it seems to well thought out. Two, you practice, like Mysaren had been for most of her life. She had been to too many cities, met too many people in skeevy taverns and bars to not know how to lie. She didn't like lying anymore, though, but this was a necessary evil, at least to her. She needed money, and no one would want some piss poor necromancer freak to work for them.

Saha had finished shedding her skin. Dry, delicate, paper-thin pieces of what used to be parts of her lay in a neat pile on the floor: a whole translucent mould of an arm, or an ear, or a toe, was stacked with short and long strips that had fallen off on their own or had been scrapped off with the help of a smooth pebble. She had been cooped up in the small room, cheaply that the wanderer could afford in Blue Tavern, for almost a week. Her body had conserved its energy by lulling her to sleep for days and nights, only to wake when her skin itched, without food or drink; now, recuperated and with vision restored, Saha could feel her mouth parched and cracked lips, her stomach grumbled, although, with a look down and feel of her body, she had hardly lost weight. She folded up the pile in a piece of cloth to be burned in the forest and put on her light armour. The leather felt a little tight and uncomfortable on her soft skin and etched in more when she moved, but she ignored it knowing her body would toughen up in a few days to its usual self. The bedroom tidied, Saha opened the door and stepped out of its enchantment that had been affording her peace and silence and, being sensitive, was struck by the overwhelming odours and aggressive music that had stalked upstairs. Her breathing quickened. There was pipe smoke, rare meat that excited her, strong magic, a multitude of folks from different places, animals, blood and ale - worst of all, she felt stirred to whip out her sword and dance as if she was in a fierce fight. Saha relaxed her grip on the hilt and muttered a spell. A breeze cleared the way and her head. She hurried downstairs, she could feel the bardic influence returning. “Bernard!” she called out with nary a glance at the numerous patrons on her way to the front door. “Six for me please! Rare! Put it on my tab, I’ll be back in a bit.” The door shut behind her; the guitar was muffled to a quieter sound that let her fully regain control of her senses and Saha found herself interjected into company. “Good morning, Kat and Hel,” she greeted, and to the stranger, held her left palm to her chest in accordance to polite Naga custom. “Sorry I had to stay away for a while, I had a private matter that needed my attention.” Saha looked at Hel in the eye, as if addressing him, too, as an equal, and continued saying to them both, “I’ll be having breakfast soon, with enough to share, perhaps you’d like to join me.” Saha excused herself from the trio and walked down the beaten path. The sunlight warmed her skin, a delicious sensation she had missed, and she focused on the fresh air that brought scents of morning dew, grass and dirt from the surrounding forest. It was a short stroll into the woods, the damp ground, brown and green with leaves, under the protection of the tall trees, held an intimacy that felt like home. She found a good spot by a fallen log and stilled with her mouth open to breathe in and sense if there was anyone nearby; then she gathered some twigs and cast a spell to start a fire. The Naga untied the pouch she had been carrying in one hand and carefully laid it on top of the flames. It consumed the gift in whole. “Saha’le arimay aksatelaikum,” she gave thanks in her native tongue, for the experiences life had bestowed upon her, for the joys, pains and regrets, for another beginning now was she wiser; then Saha covered the fire with dirt to complete the ritual.

[Bernard] Bernard watched the interaction between the ratman and the ogre, remaining patient. When the ratman was eager to announce himself as the boss, he saw the gears turning slowly in Drubbin's head, turning a big red eye at him. Drubbin's chose, to what seemed like the best choice to Bernard, to stay his krumpin' hand and laugh at Azzrix's joke. Drubbin's, wanting to know more, asked Bernard about his job, indicating to the board. Bernard, wishing to remain quiet, nodded in response. He thus turned his attention to someone else, going back to his duties. "Bernard, you son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers! Viggo cried cheerfully, garnering the attention of the barkeep. Bernard grabbed a pail full of beer bottles, handing them to the bard. When the musician returned to his station, Bernard waited and when he did, the bard began to play a song that was, at first, generous and pleasing to the ear; until he worked the strings of his instrument with power and liveliness. Though it was amazing, the barkeep glared, sensing the magic. His stern look was locked onto the musician, tangible and overpowering. It was the kind of look that screamed experience and danger to those receiving it, and it held a gravity of its own. However, his glare swiftly died, the hard look becoming empty once more, as though staring into a far off distance... or at everything that was before him, memorizing it like a scholar lost in the most intriguing study. It was Naida's intervention that had made him stop glaring, to return to his vigilant nature. The naga was quick in exiting her room, making a quick order of six bloody steaks. He nodded to the woman as she fled the tavern, already ringing his bell to gather the chef. [Sessamaru] Sessamaru listened to the din with a sense of content as Naida fled for a short moment, enjoying the social atmosphere. Nothing bad ever truly happened here, and it was a good thing. If only the world could work as it did at the Tavern. No one wanting to kill each other, everyone who hated each other let the other exist simply because they didn't have the mind to hurt them, and those who enjoyed each other simply remained where they were, talking up a storm that made even the Gales envious. Sessamaru watched the events transpiring in the tavern, and laughed. He overheard, by complete accident, the conversation with the ogre and the ratman, chuckling at the exchange. Azzrix, he knew, would try anything to swindle someone, and Drubbins was clever enough to escape the ratman's verbal trap. When the music began once more, Sessamaru felt magic bubbling up from beneath the notes. When the introduction ended and the riffs began coming in full force, the swordmage waved a hand and severed the air before him into a vacuum, silencing the spell. Though it didn't work for the entire tavern, it proved quite taxing to prevent the spell's mood alteration on himself, due to the immense suppression of the Tavern. It's like trying to lift five ton weights, he mentally groaned, falling to his bum due to a faint sensation. Naida was already yelling at Viggo for his use of magic. Sessamaru simply laughed, rubbing the back of his head. No matter how powerful an enemy there is, none of them is as scary as Miss Naida! he thought, his smile growing into a wide, toothy grin. It didn't take long for Naida to return from her duties, and as she curiously stared out the window, Sess rose from the ground weakly to see what was going on. "Who's that?" Naida asked, pointing to the knightly gentleman. The half-breed shrugged and kept his smile. "A new friend," he told her, and the swordmage began to make his way to the door, grabbing Naida by the wrist. "Mister Bernard! I'm going to borrow Naida for a second, if that's alright!" Sess cried over the din, waving his free hand to Bernard as he wandered towards the door, with Naida in tow. When he arrived at the door, staring at Kat and the knight, Sess bowed before the man as was custom for Dearmadta. "Welcome to the Blue Moon Tavern! I'm Sessamaru, the local swordmage and a wanderer. A pleasure to meet you!" The half-breed greeted, rising from his bow. "And this is Miss Naida, a bartender and waitress here at the Blue Moon."

The ogre's broken language made it hard for Azzrix to understand, but he still managed thanks to great linguistic skills and he found the being to be intellectually boring. Azzrix gave a smile when Kat refered to him as 'my lord' it made him feel so powerful. "Have joyous day my lady" he said with a polite bow. He ordered himself another mug of mead and began to drink in the hopes feeling more joyous at the success of his thieving business. He heard the music that bard was playing and didn't find it too appealing, he would have preferred something more romantic and epic, and Azzrix was also getting a strange feeling from hearing the music, but he was still in good mood and walked over to the musician's pail and dropped in at least ten gold coins. Eventually Drubbin's broken English began to make more sense and Azzzrix was becoming tipsy. He noticed more people entering the bar and raised his mug to give an announcement. "Everyone! It is with great pleasure that I am sharing this celebration with you and hope that bright futures for all of us are to come! Now let us drink until either dream god conquers us or the death god takes us away!" he shouted and took another gulp of his mead and almost immediately afterwards he stumbled into a table knocking over a plate. He was able to right himself before he fell on the floor, but he had to use a chair as a brace to keep himself from falling over.

"Yeah!" Drubbins shouted, more at someone making a proclamation than anything. It was good to show solidarity when you were the new boy. Despite being part of several huge victory feasts in the past, one of which had cleared an entire county of booze as raiding parties kept striking out farther and farther in an effort to acquire more, Drubbins had never discovered an amount of alcohol that would force a meeting with either of those gods. It was like there was something in the air, something that inspired blokes to bold action. If he was going to be getting drink from Da Boss than he would damn well do something to earn it. With a throaty grunt he lifted himself off the the floor, giving Azzrix two big, hearty pats as he lumbered past toward that job board that Da Boss had nodded at. He solemnly swept his eyes over it, taking in all the little papers and things. He couldn't make heads or tails of this, but he had never let that stop him before. He raised up a hand and pinched one at random between the nails of his fingers before pulling it off, then turned back around to scan the room. There would be a smart boy somewhere out there. Normally you could count on a magic boy to be very smart, but the only one who'd he'd seen do magic was that dog bloke. Drubbins had a pretty commanding view of the room with his height, but he couldn't see the dog bloke anymore. Then he looked for that blue bloke who'd pointed the boss out to him, but he wasn't in here either. He could ask Da Boss, but Da Boss seemed to expect you to be able to do this yourself and he didn't want to make a bad impression to a new Boss. He supposed he could go back and ask Azzrix, but he was a funny boy and might lie to him. That had happened to him before on a new Boss, just the expected new boy hazing. Then he spotted someone at a table in the far corner. Two blokes sharing a table, one of them wearing robes which nearly always meant he was a smart type. That wasn't the only reason, of course. There were plenty of blokes wearing robes in this tavern. No, this bloke looked like Malia Burg. His first boss. He was scared it might be Malia at first, before remembering that she and her whole tower had been blown to nothing with powerful magic. Wait, this person looked a lot like Malia so maybe they were also one of those she-blokes that Malia had told him she was. Drubbins decided that, just to be safe, he wouldn't mention the word bloke around them because that used to get Malia really steamed. He wandered up to the table with as much subtlety as his size allowed, which was none, and stood possibly too close behind Tahira to be entirely comfortable. "Scuse me." he asked tentatively, holding up the paper. "Whats dis say?"

Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.

"Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"

Sess grabs her by her arm and yanks her out the door, heading toward the man that she had seen out the window earlier. She hears him yell to Bernard before they rush out the door. He is grabbing her wrist, to which Naida flushes. Normally Sess has a tendency not to touch people. Honestly, this was the first time that she had ever seen him do it. He drags her outside and stops in front of the man and... Kat. Naida frowns when she remembers that the she-demon was actually talking to the knight. Sess bows and introduces himself to the knight man before introducing her. Putting aside her feelings of slight rage and loathing toward Kat, she smiles at the knight. "Anything anyone needs at the bar, they come to me," Naida says with a big smile on her face. "So where you from, knight-boy? I haven't seen you around these parts before." Since Kat is here, Naida has lost a lot of her happy energy that she used to have in the bar. Now, her silvery wings flutter nervously, going faster than her mouth had been in the bar. She grips Sess's wrist, anchoring herself to the ground through him. She knew that if she let go, she would probably wind up hovering a few yards off the ground and she did not need that right now. She tries not to grip onto his arm too hard, but she can't help that her fingernails dig into his skin slightly.

Viggo would have ignored his chastisement from Naida, continuing on with the song until its due finish. As Viggo hits the last strum of his strings, he raises his head, sweating and thoroughly worked from his playing. With his guitar still resting at his hip he notes the additional coins in his pail, grinning happily as he grabs a small cloth and wipes beads of perspiration from his brow. Walking back to the bar he takes a bottle of beer out of his "other bucket", promptly uncapping it and drinking the contents. Now a little more than tipsy, he shoots a cursory glare at Naida, moving to give her a piece of his mind on the use of magic in his playing, though before he can take a first step she's led outside by Sess. He blows a strand of hair from his face, and loops it behind his ear, sighing in exasperation. Viggo places his fingers on the neck of his guitar, absently tapping notes without making much noise. He soon begins to walk around while practising quietly, scanning the crowd for anyone he might be able to serenade a few coins out of.

Margaret was about to say something when the charm lit up again as the hair-for-brains decided it was a good time to terrorize her hungover hearing. She felt the charm actually heat up - It might be a permanent enchantment, but the trade was that it could only absorb and neutralize limited amount of magic in the given time. Just like her liver and alcohol. "Would somebody drag this circus reject out of here? My ears are going to bleed! I swear every time this individuum makes an appearance I lose a bit of my will to live!" she shout-whispered her complaint. Her anger vented somewhat, she turned back to the mage who inquired of her skill. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." She really hoped some well paying jobs would pop up soon. Speaking of which, the ogre approached their table. Apparently it... he... didn't know the written word. "That's the menu." she answered for the other whens he got a glimpse of the paper he was holding.