"...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.

"Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.

Rouen frowned as the inn-keep Naida attempted to help the two men. He watched the older man step on his other foot with his injured foot and hop around. "Well with old age comes clumsiness," he thought. The fox-eared man grumbled his way up towards the stool. "Fooooooood..." he moaned. "Well, it doesn't look like they need help. This really has to be one of the strangest inns I have ever been in, I wonder wh-," he thought and a glance around made him realize something. The winged girl, the fox ears, the white hair, the one-handed village-girl with the cat that was more predator than pet. Now he realized that there was a bipedal lizard and a furry-blue humanoid. "Ugh, a fay tavern," he thought and a light look of disgust grew on his face. "Well, it isn't like I have a choice I better get used to this," he thought. He took a seat in one of the empty bar stools. "May I have some stew as well?" he asked Naida.

Naida rolls her eyes as Sessamaru begins to beg for food. And, to make it even better, the knight guy now asks for food. She sighs and hurries back to the kitchen, calling for two Potato Nut stews. She sweeps into the back kitchen, her wings fluttering, as she helps prepare the meals, but before she can do much, the cook kicks her back out to go make drinks. The water sprite growls at him, mad that she can't help, but she complies and walks back out to the bar. Naida grabs Rouen's untouched Fey Buster drink and sets it in front of him. "Here you go, mate," she says. She is about to walk away to get Sess a drink when she pauses and turns back around. She looks at him carefully and says, "Drink that slowly, mate. Don't want to see you running naked down the street because you drank something too fast." She smirks and proceeds to pour Sessamaru's favorite drink. She slides it down the bar and it stops directly in front of him. The cook then rings for her with the soups and she flits over to the kitchen, now hovering a couple feet off the ground. She takes the plates in her hands and flutters back over to them, setting the stew down in front of them. She grabs some salt and sprinkles it over the top of them, smiling at Rouen and Sessamaru. She turns to Sess and says, "Here, eat up. Want to keep your strength up before that old bag comes back and beats the life out of ya." She smiles at Rouen before she hears that Rimau is addressing her. She turns to look at him and smiles. "Oh, hey, Rimau! This is just a new customer," she says with a big smile. "I didn't see you walk down, my scaly friend. I'll get you that juice right away." She quickly grabs the couple drinks from under the bar and mixes them together, adding a very small pinch of fairy dust to it so Rimau could wake up a little more. She passes the juice down the bar, sliding it toward the scaly man and says, "There you go, bud! Don't drink it too fast." She grins at him before turning back to Sess and Rouen.

"It was a song? Oh! Pardon me. I must have mistaken it for a vocal lacking, random, screeching noise. Oh, and let's not even mention the fact that I do not take kindly to someone trying to cast a spell on me." The witch replied to the 'musician'. It was cute how the scrawny guy was trying to sound threatening while she could probably shove him into a beer glass. "If you have a problem with that, I will gladly talk to you about it outside." she said with a mocking smirk. Everyone who frequented the tavern knew that some magic prevented any serious fighting to take place within. Dismissing Viggo with a shooing wave of the hand, she turned her attention to the ogre at their table. She couldn't shake the amusing thought that the IQ of the next conversation might actually be higher than the one she just finished. "Looks like somebody has a sweet tooth." she commented. an idea struck her, and she patted her pocket. It would be a high risk investment and might not pay off quickly, but... She has seen some of the tougher jobs on the board and the witch would be lying if she said she felt confident she could take them on alone. It might be worth her while to make some friends, and a sorceress and an ogre seemed like a good mix with her primarily using a sword. As long as they didn't wield a guitar. Her own growing hunger making the decision easier, she snapped her fingers. "Oi, miss Marcoon! would the chef be so kind and sent three servings of pancakes our way? On me." she said, looking up the ogre. Or ten. Look at the size of him! "Do I get a discount on large purchase?" she tried with innocent smile. Old habits died hard.

[Sessamaru] The swordmage simply lay there, agonizing over the thought of food. He was too hungry to notice Rimau and Rouen, and barely did he pay attention to Naida. His stomach roared again, a sound a glutton would make when its food was taken away before it could have the first bite. An angry, demanding sound his stomach made. It didn't take very long for Naida to return with food. His ears twitched eagerly, his nostrils flaring at the scent, and when the food was put down, Sessamaru nearly attacked the bowl. However, he stopped himself, spoon upraised for a downward, diagonal thrust. "Uh..." he began, frozen in his pause. It took much self-control for him to regain his composure, sit himself upright, and turn to Naida. "Thank you very much, Miss Naida." The dearmadta-hybrid amended. Without further hesitation, he went back to his savage, yet well-formed thrust, attacking the stew with a viciousness reserved only for starving animals. He ate the entire bowl of stew swiftly before he raised it, a signal he demanded more. However, his tongue lolled, steam rising from it as blisters formed. Too heavenly to surrender to the pain! Sess thought, using it as an excuse to continue. [Bernard] The burly barkeep watched the events transpire, his dismal expression overshadowed with a sense of... annoyance. The knight, the one-armed hunter, and the winged-human girl caught the most of his attention. Before he could intervene, which he truly had no intention of doing, the event ended on a peaceful note. With a nod to Historia, the barkeep wandered to an ice-box he had stashed beneath the bar and grabbed a blue bottle, roughly 20 ounces. For the first time in... well, FOREVER... Bernard approached Historia and popped the cap, sitting it before her. "Fizzy. Non-alcoholic. Sweet. House." He told her, turning in time to see Katelia throw her dagger into a wall. With a grimace, he waved a hand, the dagger in the wall sinking into it as though it were water, only to have it reappear point first immediately after the sinking. The dagger shot out of the wall with such speed and precision that it hit the floor by Kat's feet. The barkeep gave her a stern glare, his frown deep with disapproval. With nothing more to say, he wandered back over to the bar, slapping the back of Viggo's head as he made his way back to his post. Once there, he continued to act as the sentinel of the bar. [Priest] The black haired cleric made his way through the crowd of people that now flooded the streets, holding close to his chest a bundle of papers. This was Priest, a tall, black-haired man with half-moon glasses. His hair was long and tied into a ponytail, with a few strands falling in the front. He was fair-skinned and possessed eyes the color of robin eggs. He passed for handsome, despite being slender enough to hide behind a pole with ease, and wore a white long coat with blue trims. He wore white pants with knee-high boots of the same color, and a black turtleneck that could barely be seen by the high collar of the unique, custom coat given by the church. Upon his hands were white gloves. In a hurry, he apologize and smiled to everyone he had to push past, which not a lot of people were in the way of Priest due to his affiliation to the church. It didn't take much longer for him to arrive at the Blue Moon Tavern, which he let out a relieved sigh. "Welp! Time to get to work!" Priest said cheerfully, approaching the door and pushing it wide open with a free hand. As he looked inside, he noticed a lot of familiar faces and a lot of new ones. "Gooooood morning, everyone!" Priest said with a sing-song voice. "Isn't it just a wonderful day to be alive?" He asked, walking into the tavern and approaching the job board. "And a wonderful day to you, Mister Bernard!" Without further adieu, the cleric went about his business, pinning the papers he possessed onto the board. "It seems as though your Tavern is getting more popular by the day!" Priest laughed, working as he spoke.

Kat didn't react when the dagger shot out of the wall, embedding itself in the floor next to her foot. It wasn't exactly the first time she'd used the wall for target practice. (It'd happened enough times that even Hel didn't jump to attention anymore.) Ignoring the glare Bernard sent her way, she pocketed the coin she was fiddling with and pushed herself up. After scooping up her dagger, Kat walked to the board, Hel following behind her. A job was probably what she needed to work off these nerves. "Ok, whaddya got this time?" she asked the priest in a bored voice.

[Priest] The young member of the church turned to Kat and smiled politely. "Oh, just a few lost-and-found missions. Nothing too big. The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," he explained, frowning as he began to think about it. "It's strange... you would think a village or two would have vanished over night. But our intel has been giving us reports of them just... hiding." Priest went on, thinking. "Nevertheless, I have been hearing strange rumors about an army rising in the South. I'm advising the High Cardinal to take a deeper look into it. Never before have I heard such a rumor being spoke with much accuracy and tenacity. So, keep a look out; in the mean time, when I finish here, come back and take a look at the board and see if there are any missions you'd be interested in doing." With that, Priest went about his duty and continued pinning up each job.

Viggo's left eye twitches in anger as he listened to the witch insulted his ability, taking a chip off of his monolithic ego. "The music comes from the guitar, you.. You slag!" he curses, still quietly plucking notes on the guitar, as though it's a coping mechanism of some sort. He takes a breath and relaxes in his posture, letting half of his face be curtained by his long brass hair, his expression transforms into more of a sneer as he releases some of his anger into his guitar strings. "Whatever" he shrugs, turning around and walking off with slow steps, "I don't need the opinions of women who're just jealous of magicians greater than themselves.." he jeers, passing by Bernard who smacks him on the crown on the head. Viggo rubs his head and glares at Bernard, deciding not to form a grudge given the power the barkeep seemingly possessed.

"No, you know the rules, Margaret," Naida says as she grabs Sess's plate and immediately dishes him up some more stew. Then she notices the large ogre at her table and cringes. "But I'll let you use my employee discount just this once." She sets the bowl back down in front of Sess and heads back to the kitchen to make the pancakes herself. She quickly dishes up at least ten servings of pancakes and writes down the amount on Margaret's tab before swinging over to her table. She dishes out the load of pancakes before going back over to the bar to clean up slightly while business was low. She smiles at the Priest as he walks downstairs and starts pinning up some jobs on the job board. "Hey, Priest!" Naida says happily, giving him a toothy grin. "I might have put my own job up there. Sorry, I just thought it would be fun for some of the patrons in the tavern." She smiles at him and looks back over at Sessamaru. "Are you going to take one of those jobs?" she asks him. "I have exactly seen you leave the tavern in forever and I think some fresh air will do you good." She smiles at him and begins to wipe down the bar with a wet towel. She hovers a couple feet off the ground and looks at Sess expectantly.

"Wats a pancake? Oh, bye." Drubbins says quickly as Viggo walks away before looking back at Margret. "Was he really castin' a spell on ya'? Dats bad, dats real bad. I kno' nuffin' 'bout magic, but a bloke doin' magic at ya' all secret like is always bad. Been done ta me a few times, blokes puttin' needles in me thinkin' bits. Used to not mind so much, 'cept now I'm tryin' ta use em more so anyone tryin' that again's gonna be gettin' a good krumpin'." It was around this time that Nadia rounds the table to make her delivery. The smell was nearly overwhelming as it lit up the insides of his nostrils. It was just as heavenly as he remembered, but he held back on digging in on account of them not being his. The blokes at the tables, though, hadn't complained when she'd brought them over. Did they not understand what these were, or were they just being polite to the blue bloke? They weren't eating. He decided to breach the subject. "Uhhhhh," he started, not really experienced with pointing out other peoples mistakes. He pointed down at the golden brown goodness piled on their table. "Dat bloke got it wrong." He said tentatively. "Them is flapjacks. Ya can tell 'cause, see, dere flat an stuff." He waited for a moment for this information to sink in properly, then decided to be bold. "Can I 'ave 'em?"

Claire, about to accept the offer for a tour (and respond to Historia's comment), watched as new players entered the scene. Bringing with them a whirlwind of commotion. Arguing, tension, threats all being thrown around. Claire was tempted to try and stop things before they started, but she wouldn't know what to do. She wasn't the best speaker and getting physical would only aggravate the situation. Though before she could choose something to do, Historia herself took action instead. Claire watched her go and stand between both raging parties, but was drawn away for a moment by a loud thump. The white haired man who had pulsed magic earlier was being accosted by an old man."Amazing..." Claire said under her breath. She looked back just in time to see her brown haired acquaintance talking down the large knight, and one armed hunter. She quickly returned and apologized for her absence. After Mysaren gave her response, Claire too took the chance. "No need to apologize." The small swords-woman added with the faintest of smiles. "I too would appreciate a tour." She added, her attention once again wandering. A man had entered, this time bringing with him a sense of positive energy. He went about placing papers up on a board, Claire noted the word 'job.' Perhaps there was a chance of her making some gold nearby...She still needed a concrete place to stay after all. On the topic of money and business, the rat-like creature who had paid for all their meals and drink approached the trio. Claire gave a small bow in response ot his. He seemed...Decent. "Thank you for the meal." Claire replied to him after he was done speaking. She was truly glad he had done that, paid for everything. She was low on survival funds.

"Thank y'kindly." The Lizard returned the courtesy to the Sprite. But once that was over with, he wasted no time in grabbing the glass given and downing the entire thing in one go; it wasn't exactly unusual for him to drink his fruit juice in such a way. Only problem was, after he drunk it, he felt an almost electrical jolt of energy course through his entire body, making him shiver and widen his eyes. If he had hairs, they'd all be standing on end. This wasn't a bad thing, however, because to comprehend what he saw next, he'd need to be awake as possible. A boy... girl... thing in a white overcoat typically worn by human religious missionaries burst into the bar and started talking all rainbows and cupcakes. S/he did this all the way up to, and on the other side of, the bar, a little too close for comfort. Rimau looked on with even wider eyes and a blank expression of bewilderment. Then he said to the wo/man: "Huh... ain't seen you 'round 'ere before, kid." What especially confused him here was that no-one else seemed to react the same way he did. Maybe s/he was a regular, but he wouldn't know, since he only discovered the ostensibly legendary bar less than a week ago. Could just be another sign of its apparent weirdness. "...What's yer deal?" He continued, licking the inside of his mouth to get the most out of his juice. "...Y'part o' the Church o' Happy-ology or somethin'? Y'act like that on a day-to-day basis, there's good odds some'un'll turn yer face into a modern art masterpiece, let alone 'convert'!" He propelled up and slightly over the bar to add weight to that last part, but he couldn't hide the little grin on his face. He sat back down to let the remark sink in for a bit, before waiting for the best opportunity to start laughing, allowing his little grin to pop open. "...Baahhh, I'm just messin' with ya! ...B'seriously, though..." He added, changing his expression to a solemn and serious one almost cartoonishly quickly; something that took a bit of practice, it seemed. "...That cheerful stuff creeps folks out, kid. Makes people think y'tryin' to... do somethin'. Like, y'got an agenda. No-one is 'at 'appy normally 'cept a slimy lil' hatchlin' fresh from the shell. Makes it cute in kind of er... never mind, it's a Zizz thing." What proved interesting now, though, was the bits of paper s/he was pinning to the wall. He once again tried to stretch his upper body over the bar to get a closer look, his view obscured by the mass of people milling about like... a mass of people.

Azzrix gave a bigger smile when Mysaren and Claire thanked him for the drinks and asked him what business that he had in mind. "I am looking for people to go on missions with and I am pretty sure that some will come up soon. I am perfectly fine with doing them myself, but I find having a group to aid you is much better for health than doing them alone. So if any of you are interested in going on a mission then I am perfectly fine with you coming along with me. There would be riches to be had and the promise of glory." he said to them calmly. He was hoping to find allies to make doing the tougher missions easier, his family may have liked a challenge, but they weren't stupid. "Remember Azzrix, if you can have assistance in job with a person you can trust then always have it." Azzrix remembered his dad telling him that when he was a young child learning how to be an expert thief.

"Ah! Yes a tour, thank you Miss Mysaren." Historia smiled when she remembered where she left off. "Well I could show you around now-" She started to say but was cut off when the ratman from earlier (she had yet to catch his name) came over and started to talk to them. "Oh, well thank you for the compliment Mr. Grimmor, but I only did what I thought was right as I doubt any of us wanted to deal with a fight in here." She gave Mr. Grimmor a smile, "And thank you for the meal, and I do hope you don't think me rude, but I can't take you up on your offer for drinks. The ability to fly mixed with alcohol has never ended well for my kind." But Historia didn't have to go without a drink for long as Mr.Bernard made his way over to them with a bottle in his hand. She was surprised when Mr.Bernard actually spoke to her while popping the cap off the bottle. Historia was a little under the impression that Mr.Bernard couldn't speak but now she knew better. "Oh, thank you very much Mr. Bernard." Historia told him as she took a sip of the drink. The fizz tickled her lips and it tasted like strawberries. It was amazing! "Ah, well. Looks like I don't have to go without a drink after all." She told Mr. Grimmor as the priest came in with today's jobs. "As for business, well, I mostly do small missions and act as a messenger or courier, so if you need anything delivered, I might be able to help. Though if there is a big group, I might be persuaded to help. But I promised these two a tour soon. I'm hoping to find a job or two around the city that we might be able to do together as a way to show them around." Historia looked at the board and at the small crowd that was still around it. But it might take a bit to even get to the board. "If that's alright with you two that is." Historia told her companions when she looked back.

Rouen raised his eyebrows as Naida spoke and looked at the drink suspiciously. “Eh, she is probably jesting,” he thought and raised the mug up, eyeing the amber ale. Still, he took a small sip and placed it on the bar table. “Doesn’t taste too bad, a little sour end but the flavor is unique. As long as it is more palatable than revolting I suppose,” he thought. He ate a spoonful of the soup that was placed in front of him. “Hog’s meat, now this is a fine stew. Worthy for the court,” he thought and a smile grew on his lips. He quietly finished the stew and began sipping on the brew. Content and satisfied he leaned back. He pulled out a small white piece of paper, an ink vial, and a quill from his belt satchel. Hundreds of little black lines crossed the surface of the paper. “Let us see one…two……forty-five….one-hundred….,” he thought counting the lines on the paper. “273, that makes nine-months. Goddess have I really been gone for that long?” Brushing the quill into the vial of ink he added another line to the piece of paper. He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. “All this time, and still no sign of what I am looking for.” He thought remembering visions of the black hulking being in the dark forest. He swept his left hand to his right arm, feeling the scars that lined it underneath the leather jerkin. Rouen hadn’t felt terror like that. It was an experience that he wished to erase from his mind but at the same time refused to forget. It was something that was forever scarred into the landscape of his subconscious. The trauma echoed in the walls of his psyche. Sometimes he would dream of the encounter, and wake sweating feverishly. He opened his eyes, and lightly shook his head trying to think of something else. Sighing, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small ring with a red garnet etched into its center. “I wonder if she still remem-,” he thought, but it was interrupted as he overheard someone say, “The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," “Remnants?” he thought. The mere word alerted him and he brought himself to a level position. He looked behind him and saw the man who spoke, he was pasting something up on the board. Rouen immediately grabbed his paper, vial, quill, and ring then stuffed them into the satchel. He sternly walked up behind the man. “Excuse me, did you mention something about Remnants?” Rouen asked.

Tahira chose to ignore the witch’s slanderous remark towards the musician. She didn’t have a strong opinion of his music but she did recognize that it took some skill, and there was no danger of her falling under the sway of that particular spell, since the magic blast from earlier had made her more alert. In fact, she was interested in how he fused magic into his music and made a mental note to ask him later. For now, she would focus on one thing at a time, and that was awaiting Margaret’s response to her question. "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." Hmmm, that was rather interesting. So she used components for her magical works? That made sense considering the nature of her charm. Tahira’s magic relied on the strength and focus of the spirit, but she didn’t have an opportunity to respond as the tavern’s new ogre crouched beside her for help reading. That was certainly something she didn’t have a problem offering, she loved reading and writing, and anyone who wanted help with it was worth her time. However, Margaret intercepted the question before she had a chance to see it and the ogre withdrew the paper to analyze it more closely. Then the musician, Viggo, stormed up to them, apparently he had heard the witch’s rather vocal criticism. The events unfolding in the rest of the bar escaped Tahira’s notice as she was caught on the fringes of the heated exchange. Pulling her hood farther down, to hide her eyes once again, she hoped her placement at the table wouldn’t affect her chances of weaseling some magical secrets out of Viggo later. As the argument resolved itself, Margaret turned her attention to the ogre and she could see the gears turning in the witch’s head as she ordered pancakes. Since she was not exactly in a breakfast mood, Tahira thought it would be best to talk to her at another time. “Thank you for the information,” she said, nodding to Margaret and then Drubbins. “I hope you don’t mind if I…leave you two to your meal.” As she stood up, she took note of Priest and those gathering around him and decided to see what jobs would be available. Navigating through the patrons of the somewhat crowded tavern, she noticed a few new faces, but she wasn’t the type to stop and greet them as she made her way to the board, stopping next to a new knight. Anything particularly magic related would catch her interest, so that is what she looked for as she stood behind Priest, analyzing each job as he put it up until one caught her eye. A rare jewel? The Mages of Elrikur? Yes, this is the one. "Priest...what do you know of these mages, and the gem they seek?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.

It was getting rather crowded at the job board. Kat tuned out as the priest went on and on about Remnants, and she really didn't want to think of those things right now. Paying no attention to everyone around her mumbling, she glanced down at Hel. Then she looked back up, and snatched a random job the priest had just pinned to the board. This better not be some stupid missing pet assignment again… The last one the two of them had done hadn't gone particularly well. Turned out that while unusually large snow leopards were excellent hunters, they also scared the living daylights out of whatever they were looking for. Go figure. Kat looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. Staring into the Abyss. Mages, Kat scoffed to herself as she read the details over. Figures they'd come up with this pretentious name. Maybe she'd just go get the jewel for herself. Not that she was skilled in magic at all, but just from the style of the request, she had a feeling the mages deserved a good ol' kick in the face. Or something equally as spiteful. She was in a spiteful mood. She glanced back over to Hel and asked, "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Not that Kat really knew what Drakas were.

Mysaren considered Azzrix's offer, then shook her head. "No thank you," She said, "I don't want to go on an adventure with someone I just met. Thanks for the drinks though." She grabbed one of the drinks that was brought out and downed it, letting out a sigh of relief. It was a bit early to start drinking like this, but she hadn't had a nice cold drink in a while, and getting drunk did sound like a fantastic idea right now. No, she couldn't. She had too many things to do, too many reasons to stay on her guard. A few drinks never hurt anybody though... She watched everyone else in the bar, noticing some of them crowded around that jobs board. A job would never hurt. She wasn't exactly above an honest living, it was just too unrealistic for someone who spent their life traveling most of the time. There was talk of plenty of rewards for the missions, though, and if she could find a few good allies, then she'd be happy to take one on. For now, she just sat at the bar though, considering what to do while she was here, and when she should leave.

I'm dumb.