Alwen crossed his arms, glaring quite annoyedly at the creature as it completely ignored him so the other customers got their orders.

Hmph the necromancer grunted as he swept the coin he placed upon the table back into the pouch that he had at his side 'How rude,' he thought to himself as he placed the pouch back 'Oh well not like it's the first time, anyways.'' shrugging the necromancer pulled a leather-bound book from the satchel slung over his shoulder and began to engross himself in it.

[ A L W E N ]

Alwen crossed his arms, glaring quite annoyedly at the creature as it completely ignored him so the other customers got their orders.

Hmph the necromancer grunted as he swept the coin he placed upon the table back into the pouch that he had at his side 'How rude,' he thought to himself as he placed the pouch back 'Oh well not like it's the first time, anyways.'' shrugging the necromancer pulled a leather-bound book from the satchel slung over his shoulder and began to engross himself in it.

The shadow imp seemed to be growing distraught, it was looking at Alwen and bobbing its head as though talking but he heard nothing. When Alwen took the coins back the imp reached for him. There was a crackle of white light as the creatures movements were halted by an invisible barrier. Black blood dripped from its finger as it looked around wide-eyed in fear.

A judging a questioning gaze fell on the necromancer. The small trapped creature before had a slight tremble to its thin frame. It’s tail was raised at its side however, tense and ready.

<Snipped quote by Dark Cloud>

The shadow imp seemed to be growing distraught, it was looking at Alwen and bobbing its head as though talking but he heard nothing. When Alwen took the coins back the imp reached for him. There was a crackle of white light as the creatures movements were halted by an invisible barrier. Black blood dripped from its finger as it looked around wide-eyed in fear.

Alwen placed the book onto the table, turning to initially berate the so-called 'help' however the necromancer found himself doing a complete one-eighty. Grabbing the gold and quickly handing it to the poor creature "An ale." knowing full well he nearly killed the shadow imp Alwen looked a bit perturbed.

@Dark Cloud
The imp took the gold and eyed Alwen nervously. Still if it was talking it couldn’t be heard. Slowly it opened its wings.
’ZAP. ZAP.’

Two sharp lights flared in succession. This time Alwen saw a trickle of energy spiderweb through the invisible cage that held the creature.

If one was attuned to the weave of magic or had knowledge, this seemed like holy magic and a binding spell. The caster would have to be nearby.

The imp writhed in pain and stomped angrily on the spot, fearing to move too far.

@Dark Light

"I see, well if you need more then just ask. I'd rather pay in full but thank you for your hospitality." Smiling after the man as he glances away, sitting down with a sigh with his cane sitting on his lap with a slight tapping going on as time goes by. He had to admit that he wasn’t expecting to be spending vacation time off in a place like this, but maybe he’ll be thoroughly surprised. His eyes glancing here and there, making sure no one was watching as he pulled out a book to go over some information stored within. It was doubtful that anyone could read the etched writing but one can never be too safe, however his gaze does flicker to the other guests about.

Noting those who were around, one guest being Alwen however he wouldn’t know the name. All he could see was the being having trouble with one of the imps, which is fair if these imps are the kind he thinks they are. Regardless he can’t say anything against willing help in an establishment, more said for them then some other living beings. Turning his attention away to the man that entered, his attire stating his timeline coupled with his species. Just like Vendril he seemed new to everything here, which is thought that Dorian may be able to help him better in any case. Finally his gaze turned to a naga? He had to presume that is the case, too many giveaways and tagged on the fact he’s interacted with their species before. If anything he watched as the imp brought their drink to the table, though curiously it looked like…

@Song Book

Wait, is that the tea he ordered? Blinking at the scene before sighing softly as he gets up, cane gently thumping against the floor as he makes his way over. Not expecting a first impression to be over a misserving of drinks, but regardless he knew to at least be polite. Stopping before her as he bows his head a bit, a smile caressing his face. “Ahh I see that they delivered my tea to the wrong table, my apologies. But since we are here now, my name is Vendril. Perchance may I ask for yours?” Motioning to a chair as if to ask permission to sit with her.

@Song Book

"Thank you kindly." Taking his cup of tea and taking a seat at the table mentioned, adding a little sugar and stirring it slowly. Taking in the smell with an internal sigh as his eyes gaze back to her.

“Ethodi? A unique name to pair with a unique individual. Yes you are right, I don’t come from a village or any place like yours. Though that isn’t a problem now is it?” Chuckling as he looks back to his tea, taking just a sip to take in the taste, wondering about needing more sugar or not. “Could I ask if you could tell me more? I know some things about naga but never had the chance to be able to chit chat with one.”

@Song Book@LiegeLord

As the conversation began, a shadow imp brought out Ethodi’s correct order. Snacks included. His full eyes bouncing back and forth between the two patrons even after he put everything down. When it was done he still didn’t move. Watching the two like one might watch an interesting play unfold.

@Song Book

“Well of course, I wouldn’t dare to intrude on forbidden grounds as I hope the feeling is mutual.” A slight smile as he turns the spoon in the cup to keep it from going flat, his thoughts running along what to possibly ask? Before he does inquire however he’d reach into his pack to pull out some foil covered treats of his own, a little something called poffertjes as far as he’s come to know them as. Looking over a single one of the powdered buns as he pops one in his mouth, enjoying it fully before sighing as he looks to Ethodi.

“Guess one of my first questions would be do you still live among your people or not?” Though he may have his sneaking suspicions he didn’t want to assume. “And if you did travel I'm curious what you’ve seen in all that time? I’m a sucker for a good story. If you’d rather not talk about it that’s fine, I could always ask about your culture.” Chuckling as he sips more of his tea, his gaze side glancing at the naga however it was locked onto her. He was intent on giving her his full attention.

@Song Book@LiegeLord

Less than a full moment after the question was asked, the curious imp drops to his hands as feet and crawls low across the table, tail waving behind it, wide eyes looking up at Ethodi intently. Head slightly angled and body language that could only be described as awe.
Vendril Couldn’t hear the telepathic words it shared with the naga.

”Do you have sharp teeth? Is your tongue long?

31 cents. The barkeep had taken the blink of an eye to scrutinise the hardboiled, fedora-wearing man who'd just entered the establishment, remember the correct bottle of booze by memory, and finally hand it to him with eye and all. All that, and he only asked for 31 cents. If he'd been out of town, Richard might have begun asking questions.

Instead he pulled out his wallet, handed the barkeep the coins and gladly accepting the glass of whisky.

"Thanks, pal."

Smooth and strong, that's how the alcohol poured down his dry throat. A sense of warmth slowly spread through his chest. Certainty, something he'd failed to find in this accursed case of his. Strange how booze helped with that. Sure didn't help his marriage though.

Richard took the time to find a seat by the counter, taking off his fedora and placing it squarly in front of him as he calmly turned around. The strange gathering of people easily caught his attention...well, mostly people.

Scales, tiny flying fairies and...exactly how much had he been drinking?

Turning back and leaning over the counter, Richard did his best to silently get the attention of...well...someone. "Uhm...pardon my ignorance to your patrons, pal, but...what kind of bar is this? Something like a studio bar, akin to Hollywoodland or something? I've got to admit, I'm stumped, my wandering into the mist like that."

@Dark Cloud
The imp took the gold and eyed Alwen nervously. Still if it was talking it couldn’t be heard. Slowly it opened its wings.
’ZAP. ZAP.’

Two sharp lights flared in succession. This time Alwen saw a trickle of energy spiderweb through the invisible cage that held the creature.

If one was attuned to the weave of magic or had knowledge, this seemed like holy magic and a binding spell. The caster would have to be nearby.

The imp writhed in pain and stomped angrily on the spot, fearing to move too far.

Suddenly a realization washed over him, one that made the necromancer's nostrils flare blowing an annoyed breath through his nose 'Ah, of course I should have smelled divine magic.'

Alwen clenched his jaw, his eyes passing their gaze over the other patrons of the tavern 'I guess either I must profess my occupation or keep being inconvenienced.' it was tempting to simply leave the establishment, however the necromancer was growing tired of being chased out of one town after the other.

Slamming his book upon the table Alwen stood looking thoroughly peeved, his chair squealing loudly as the necromancer abruptly left his seat "Damn it, must I be bothered like this!" raising his voice Alwen frowned, narrowing his eyes as he looked about the tavern.

"Now whoever is using holy magic on this imp, should show their face before I find you myself!" suddenly Alwen did in fact look like the dark mages of childrens tales, told to scare boys and girls to sleep, something about the aura he had been suppressing that if one could see it would cast an overwhelmingly dark shadow.

[ Interacting With: @ONL, @Dark Light, @LiegeLord and @Song Book]

@Song Book
@Dark Cloud

He was rather intrigued by her words, so she has traveled? Since she was young at that? He was oh so eager to hear more, telling tales and stories is a nice little pastime for him when other ideas fail. Just about to inquire further into her words until they were interrupted by one of the patrons, the stranger looking man spewing about holy magic it seems. If only certain beings he knew were here, they’d most likely move in defense in a heartbeat. Alas it’s been years since he considered himself part of their nation, years since everything faded into oblivion.

He truly was content with leaving the man alone, only to spot the naga looking to him. Did she think he would do something? Shaking his head as he speaks. “Don’t look at me for this one, I’m not the one he wants and I’m not gonna be the one that stands up to him. If he comes our way then he'll have a problem with me, but otherwise it’s not my fight or yours so why bother?” Chuckling as he gazes back at the man, which truly he does hope the man doesn’t make his way for them. He’d rather relax at a place like this, not fight in one. But his hand does subtly move into his coat, placing itself on the hilt of the handgun at his side if he is left with no choice.

@ONL
”No, this is not like holy wood land, what ever that is.”
A gurgling voice echoed in his head as a shadow imp casually flew past him over his left shoulder. Leathery dark wings beat almost silently as the small fiendish creature landed upon the bar and turned to fix his big empty white eyes on Richard.
”Holy woods sounds like a terrible place. Why would anyone go there? I have seen the forgotten forest though.”

A lowered, yet audible voice with a gurgling quality made itself known to Richard...somewhere around him - his Earth-bound senses refusing to tell him the voice's origin being in his own damned head - telling him how dreadful Hollywoodland must have been. The P.I. turned around on his seat, looking over his shoulder in search of the voice, though only finding the casual disturbance one would naturally find in a seedy establishment such as this.

Someone, a fancily dressed man - a dapper Sheik one might call him, just like one of those beloved idols from the silver screen or magazines - bursted out in annoyance about what Richard thought was "holy magic on this imp...", whatever that was supposed to be. Shaking his head, Richard slowly turned back towards the counter, unprepared for what he was about to witness.

"Sounds like someone's had a little too many glasses of giggle-juice. Anyway, can't fault you there, Pal. Hollywood, and California in general sounds too much like flim-flam to me. Still. those that chase that West Coast dream of fame, fortune and future, I hope they find out..."

Another blind swig of the whiskey had kept Richard busy from actually seeing the source of the voice. The source? An imp...

"...I think I'm behind the 8-ball...what the hell did I just drink?"

The tavern was quite a large space, although only a few people occupied the ground level and all seemed to be otherwise occupied. However the main floor was multi-leveled, with a wide stairway leading to a smaller seating area just between the two hallways that contained the many rooms one could stay in.
It was from this second level, just beyond the angle of sight, the sound of a chair shuffling on the floor could be heard.
A second later the torso of an elderly man could be seen leaning on the railings as he deliberately and loudly cleared his throat.



”And if you find this person, what shall you do..? Oh little necromancer.”
His voice was surprisingly strong and carried well for an old man, full of force and confidence but also a weight of arrogance and cruelty. He stared down at one person in particular and it was clear in the twist of his lip that he despised Alwen.

A flash of light zapped again as the imp touched the edge of its magical bindings, only this time it was not because he moved but because the cage was shrinking.

Behind the man two silent figures made their way to his side. A head shorter and of thin frame, billowing white robes covered their bodies and a large hood concealed their faces. However, somehow their mere presence exuded an aura of danger.

"Oh Jesus Christ...now they're involved?"

The P.I. planted his face into the palm of his hand in a swift motion, as if this had been done many a times before. Things were truly, sadly and madly going to shits quicker than anyone would like, and it seemed the Richard Barker was in the middle of it. The Private Investigator took another swig of his drink, finding the courage - or stupidity - to ignore the imp making his whole world-view change in the blink of an eye, and focus on the white-robed man now taking the stage.

Old, white men, taking the stage clad in white...yeah, it sounded as bad as it was.

"Look here, buddy, two things; One, the KKK has no business rubbing their noses around the shit of New York like you're doing now, and two; What the hell are you talking about necromancers? I didn't know we were having a Bible-conference, talking about the Holy Jesus Christ raising the dead and..."

Another swig of the glass of whiskey brought, in some way or fashion, more sense into the brain of the P.I., who shook his head and stood up from his seat at the counter, before continuing.

"...in all seriousness, what in all that is holy and good, are you talking about? We're just a bunch of drunks, trying our damned best to get shit-faced and forget all the things we've done in ours life. Leave us alone, and I might not not knock your teeth out."