[@c3p-0h][@enmuni]



[color=goldenrod][u][h2]Aliseth[/h2][/u][/COLOR][hr][COLOR=#C0C0C0]Tavern[/COLOR]
[hr]

Aliseth was striding towards the exit of the tavern. A slight sway to his rigid careful steps. His path following that of a large barbarian who conveniently cleared the way. Aliseth had seemingly misjudged this Elio. Where he thought he saw concern, worry and a need to know of his friends fate, those indicators quickly dissolved into nothingness as he instead sat and talked to that monstrous looking blighted. She was more monster than human and had the nerve to hold herself with a sense of aristocracy. He recalled the way it had spoken down to him, taunted him. Aliseth had seen street rats beaten to near death for less. He knew he could have, should have, and probably would have punished her if it wasn't for Zeph. [i]And where was Zeph anyway? Yet another of this creatures victims?[/i] 

Before he reached the door, the bards made an announcement and began entertaining the tavern. Aliseth's thoughts were too dark, heart to cold, feelings too numb, to embrace or enjoy it. Sadly, there was a time not too long ago where he would revel in such things, a time not in uniform, when princesses weren't missing and a hunt wasn't out for a murderous blightborn. He watched a nearby table dissolve into drunken merriment as they were caught up in the tune on the air.

Aliseth let out a sigh and carried on to the door, never looking back. Before leaving, his hand balled into a fist as he clearly yet softly articulated a sentence no [i]normal[/i] hearing could pick out amongst all the noise. Despite its discreet softness it was filled with venom. [color=goldenrod]"Nesna, the slightest slip up or hint of trouble and your head will end up a trophy my wall. I promise you that."[/color]
With that said, Aliseth threw open the tavern door, the rush of icy wind that hit him a welcomed awakening to his senses as he walked out into the soft snowfall. 

The echoes of a bell toil in his ears and the remains of a dispersing crowd linger, chatting with heavy concern. He straightened his back, lift his chin, and for most part deliberately went out his way to be found by questioning eyes, sure to inform any curious, worried citizens that a blight-born was eating people.