POOHEAD189

Ill Met in Ostland

The company tavern was small, only made to accommodate the guard and the laborers in alternating shifts. Luckily, while spartan, it was well run. The barman had a plethora of kegs lined up with a nice, if predictable, selection. Marius had been to a few alehouses like this before, where the taproom was moderately well stocked but regulated to keep the price of providing well-stacked in the books. A few rough looking guardsmen and some laborers sat in ubiquitous seats. One man, a one-eyed guardsman with the plumed hat of a halberdier glanced his way and glared sullenly.

"I don't like this," Marius said under his breathe.

"Da, someting dos naut smeel right." Natasha said, taking a seat like a panther that had just decided she had found a nice place to lounge.

Marius had initially meant the ill-looks of some of the 'employees', but he also had to concur on his companion's meaning. "Er, yes. Quite strange." He remarked, taking his seat across from her, setting down her drink for her and taking his own flagon in his hands. They had been given small tokens so as to receive complimentary drinks, but the way Wilbrecht had smiled when he had given it, Marius thought the man trying to butter them up for some reason. "What reason would Grunson have to lie to us? We're just simple customers. Why send us out here to have us find out he was feeding us a false narrative?"

Natasha had deigned to drink her entire cup as Marius spoke, the merchant only seeing her drain it on the very last bit of his questions. He looked at his drink, and then sighed. No, he would just drink it like a normal person. He smiled, thinking of how Grunson would handle an irate Marius and a pissed off Natasha. And then his thoughts turned to how weird it was this woman saved his life and now here he was with her, yet again, in a tavern with strong drinks and another problem to deal with.

"Vat ah you tinking?" She asked him.

"The look on his face when we get back and you punch him in the face." He said. Natasha smiled, and then raised her fist as if she could see it happening before her eyes.

"The Face? Ha! I go lower."

Marius started snickering. She blinked, her brain whirring to meet her own words. "Hey! No innuwendo!" She declared, slamming her fist on the table.

"Wouldn't think of it." He said, hiding his chuckles in his drink.

Elden Ring: Age Of The Erdtree

Man I wish I had the time for these RPs!

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The dining hall was a long chamber, lit with warm light from above accompanied by elaborate candles placed along the table. The windows were closed and dimmed, with darkly lacquered wooden shutters contrasting the lightly tanned color of the walls. Paintings and rosaries hung between the windows, an aquila and a painting of Inquisitor Kronus on the opposite wall. The table was made of expensive mahogany and the chairs were cushioned and sturdy, but light. The freshly cooked duck and grox cutlets at the center of the table, with potato sliders and chopped, steamed vegetables of varying kinds. Amasec and Rahzvod were available to drink, courtesy of my private stock as a little thank you for my staff's good service.

I stood at the head of the table, awaiting my staff as they arrived promptly together. All save Emmaline, who had accompanied me personally to the dining hall. Lazarus took a position just at my flank, Emmaline taking a seat to my right, though when no one else sat down she promptly stood back up. She wore a delectable blue dress and a black sash that hugged her waist, her blonde hair in an eloquent braid.

Demetrius stood behind the chair to my left, the elder wearing a comfortable but splendidly embroidered jacket befitting his station over a smart suit, his greying beard recently well-trimmed. A few of his new assistants accompanied him to the table, and even my communications officer Quintin was there further down. Clara Strong was invited, and though she did not wear her flak jacket, I noticed her evening dress had a holster with a laspistol, as if even now I or the residents of the villa might be in imminent danger. Selencia Aethil sat to Emmaline's left, a striking contrast to the more lightly colored woman, just as beautiful with entirely different colors.

I raised my cup of Rahzvod, and everyone raised their glasses to accompany me.

"To us! To your hard work and dedication these many years, under Kronus and myself. For putting up with me, and everyone and everything I bring home, be they astartes or new members of the team." I said, giving a smile and a subtle look Emmaline's way. "I regret to confirm what you already know, that I must depart again. I'll miss the cooking and the friendship, though one can do without the commentary." The joke brought a few knowing looks and grins, though I saw the new members of the staff frowning, not quite getting I was jesting with old friends. They would find out eventually, next I came back.

"Sarcasm is just a free service we offer with our compliments." Demetrius laughed, bringing a mirth out of me as well.

"You did not wish to bring Lucius to the toast?" Lazarus asked from behind my shoulder, apparently in one of his tactless moods.

"The chairs wouldn't fit him and I felt it good to leave him with his own dish, specially made in the kitchens." I informed him, though I also wished to speak freely with my staff without worrying about spooking them. Lucius Raj had been exceptionally well behaved for a Thunder Warrior, but that had still resulted in three broken walls, a smashed ground car, and a broken arm from one of his periodic bouts of rage. "I'll be taking him with me on my errand, which brings me to my next topic. Selencia?"

"Yes?" The clever woman asked, raising her eyebrow inquisitively.

"Without Urien or the Caledonia and their medical officer, I'll require a medical assistant. I would ask that you accompany us, if that is not too much trouble." I humbly asked. I could have ordered her, of course, but she did have many responsibilities and I could put my trust in whatever medic I had on hand on our requisitioned freighter or a local one on the planet Havenos. "It might be dangerous, so don't take the request lightly."

"Hadrian, I might not look it, but I'm twenty years your senior. I've seen a few things. I've twice followed Inquisitor Kronus one his jaunts. I can handle it again." She assured me.

"Very good-" I began, but Clara spoke up.

"You'll be without your usual retinue. You'll need another gun."

"I'll have myself, a tech-priest, a potent psyker, Selencia, and an astartes." I told her.

"Permission to speak freely, Inquisitor?" She asked casually.

I would regret it, but I said: "...granted."

"So you, a bucket of bolts, clumsy Emma, doctor Aethil, and a crazy giant as liable to kill you as the enemy?" She asked without scruples. I simply sighed, and my gaze swiveled to Emmaline on her opinion. Lazarus let out a small screech of binary to show his displeasure at the pejorative.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Those six months had been lovely, in my estimation. For the first time in my years as an Inquisitor or as apprenticed to one, I had an extended time to relax and to take stock of all of my affairs. At first I had kept busy with whatever I could, cataloging my library based on relevance to the ordo and reviewing what news I could, as well as the previous logs I had made to find anything I might have missed. However, both Lazarus and particularly Emmaline (and in fact I believe one encouraged the other) had continually wore me down until I put my pen down and set my brain to a neutral so I could enjoy myself, and eventually, with great effort, I did. The days were bright and full of laughter and the nights were warm, and when it wasn't, Emmaline and I would keep one another warm in varying ways.

I kept a strict training regime, but I allowed myself to indulge once or twice when Emmaline insisted, and I spoke long with Lucius Raj, cataloging historical events of the Unification Wars so as to be analyzed at a later date. His ideas of the Emperor were unsurprising, given many Adeptus Astartes chapters had similar views. But it was odd to hear when coming from a warrior who had seen the Emperor in his holy radiance. I did not know what to make of his opinions, saying how he was but a man but also brimming with power beyond what any might be able to believe.

I spent much time with Emmaline and had made it a point introduced her to my staff. My captain of security, Clara Strong, a brown haired no-nonsense woman with a love of assault rifles and a flak jacket strapped on at all times. My head of staff, Demetrius Richter, an elderly but strong fellow who worked for Inquisitor Kronus for over fifty years as a butler before he served another thirty as the head of staff. He was my subordinate, but in the quiet times I could tell he felt I was akin to a grandson to him, and I did come to him for advice.

I had been fixed by my Magus Biologis, Selencia Aethil, a pretty woman with beautiful red eyes and raven black hair from a world in the Segmentum Tempestus. She had told me her world was a planet in perpetual twilight, and her exotic looks had garnered much attention by the men of Agesola. I recall when I was younger having similar thoughts myself, and I even played the part of her lover before, albeit to keep other men from harassing her when Inquisitor Kronus and all of our retinue went out to the theater or festivals. Little did any of her would-be-suitors know was that she was capable of ending life almost as well as she could heal it, she the best medical specialist in the system and could sniff a contagion out of the air like it was a tossed ball.

Finally, six months having seen no sign of him, I received a cylinder from Quintin Volsac, my communications officer stationed a few hours away in the mountains. He wasn't a native to Pacitus, but he spent his days in Primogena when not at the outpost where he received all of my communicaes and checked them for any contamination or dangerous contents, and he also patched me through to any ship in orbit I needed to come into immediate contact with. We did not see one another much, but I trusted him. When Emmaline picked the cylinder up and I saw the red marking along the length of the material, I snatched it away from her. He had labeled it as gravis nuntius, one of the most serious messages I could receive.

I opened it up hastily, placing my books down and tossing my glasses to clatter across the desk. I opened it like a machine; as quickly as possible without any hurried movements. Lazarus liked to point out how I would be welcome in the priest-hood of mars. I usually shot him the same look I often did. Once opened, I found the message had come from an associate of mine; a bounty hunter named Samara Bandir who had been following a lead on the planet Havenos, a feral world in the Segmentum Obscurus. Her last communication was with the local Imperial captain who had been given this message by her before she disappeared.

Her lead was a low-life named Nagrip, who had been taken in amongst some of the local tribes, providing them with illegal materials in which to summon something innominatus, or something unsafe to mention in the message. That was two months ago, if the date on the message was correct. I exhaled a breath I did not know I was holding, and handed the message to Emmaline.

"We're leaving within the week." I said, standing up from my chair. I needed to speak to Lazarus and get in direct communication with Volsac. I needed a ship as soon as possible.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Barnabus Amator looked undecided, holding his silence grimly as he looked. The Thunder Warrior might not be wholly impressed with these humans, but the Inquisitors had also seen their fair share of wonders. A Thunder Warrior was new, but at the end of the day the awe came from the historical significance and the direct hand of the emperor in his creation. Still, other than being larger and more prone to outbursts as the tales said, he was a post-human just like an astartes, and they were not uncommon to ones such as the inquisition. They would decide his fate whether he respected them or not.

"I feel as if a few of my colleagues would be better able to answer," Inquisitor Amator said, rounding on the large behemoth of a man. "This should be brought up with the Lord Inquisitor."

"I will inform Lord Inquisitor Mordecai as soon as I am able." I assured him. "However, in the meantime if you have no objections, I believe we should take my aide's advice. My team already has quarters fit for an astartes and I am now bound by no mission until I find another lead."

Banrabus acquiesced after a few moments of deliberation. "Very well, just keep him under intense watch."

"I am certain I will be under much scrutiny." Lucius Raj rumbled. His accent was archaic and it was clear he was attempting to sound not too dissimilar to the inquisitors, though whether it was to mock them or to better communicate was hard to guess.

The meeting was adjourned once we traded files on their dataslates, and both the Inquisitors were sent back to their ships and the Mobius volunteers were disbanded with my thanks. I made certain to add a few more thrones added to their salaries as a thanks. The following day was spent with much preparation for departure to Pacitus, including an introduction to Urien's crew about the nature of our guest and assurances that the ship of the Caledonia would be available for use after the next trading season. I went ahead and asked Lazarus to make ready to collect whatever logs we could on freighters coming to and front Pacitus in case the Lord Inquisitor Mordecai asked for my assistance or something went wrong with Lucius. To that effect, I also asked Lazarus to have his rifle with him at all times. The Thunder Warrior was trustworthy, but if he was to lose his sanity then we could not make enough preparations. It would be almost as terrible as a rampant custodes.

Two days later, with all reports of the enemy xenos ships gone and being sniffed after by Barnabus once he regained his strength, we set a due course to Pacitus, my home. I was very much looking forward to healing there and reviewing what my agents had gathered so as to find a new course of action, but I could tell Emmaline was a bit nervous. She had always been on the move, even more than I had. I still recall when she had professed she had never had a true home since she was a girl. I hoped the world would not disappoint.

At The Edge of The World

I woke early in the morning, the blankets draped over our entwined forms as I heard a low rumble in the distance. My arm draped over her, I forgot for the very briefest of seconds where I was until I felt Emmaline snuggle into my chest. The rain hammered down above, drops sliding down the window where a faded light gleamed in.

For the first time in a long time, I was content. I did not have a deadline or a contract, and though I sort of had a boss, currently she was wrapped around me and was also my new girlfriend. Whether that made things more complicated or simpler, I didn't know. This was definitely new ground for me.

I felt the call of nature and regrettably I had to pull myself out of her embrace. She whined, but I kissed her forehead and whispered I would be back, before I put on a shirt and my spare trousers and walked out into the hallway to find the lavatory. Apparently it was still quite early in the morning, as I only heard a few small clinks of glasses and murmurs downstairs, the smell of breakfast barely making it to the stairway as I passed it.

Once I finished my business, I stepped out into the corridor, rubbing my eyes when I nearly ran straight into an old friend. The fat, jolly merchant Beaumont, with his scratchy beard and elaborate robes. He was fixing his tiny hat after having just stepped out of his room.

"My lord! Beren? My boy, what are you doing here!?"

I don't know why I was embarrassed, but I was. Beaumont made his rounds with luxury goods all across the frontier, bringing news and goods to the outposts. He looked like a typical merchant, but he was one of the few men with the stones to travel that far with little to no protection save a few guards, and I even did it twice before. I had always trusted him. I suppose having him see me with a strange woman would be like an uncle catching me.

"Just my usual guiding, you know..." I said, just trying to get past the small talk. "I have a client wanting to get to Darkwater. I'll be gone for a few good weeks."

"Darkwater? You're going that far down!?" He said, baffled and befuddled. "That's truly a far trip, but just so you know I've heard terrible things that way."

"At the city?"

"No, just in the region. Some leviathan is making a fuss. The hunters and trappers are afraid to go out. Just be careful, boy." He gave me a concerned look, all the while fixing his jerkin so he could be presentable to customers downstairs.

Once I gave him my goodbyes, I stepped back into the room. I knew he thought it curious I got a room to begin with. Usually I sleep in the common room and make way first thing in the morning, but I was tired after the last week, not to mention last night. I stepped back into the darkened room and glanced out the window, wondering just what lay ahead.

Behind me, an arm lifted up from the bed and grabbed my shoulder, before pulling me onto the bed with a 'I want to be warm.' There was a ruffling of the covers and another entanglement of limbs before we both fell fast asleep again. A late morning was fine by me, I told myself...

It was storming out anyway.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I had been stripped of my coat and carapace armor at the insistence of the medicae specialist, my wounds having been cleaned and bandaged appropriately. Now that the adrenaline was off, I felt about a century older, though I stood with poise and betrayed no hint of discomfort. I had so many bandages on my form I felt half-man like Lazarus. Speaking of the tech-priest, he stood beside me with his staff in hand, one eye scrolling across the debriefing room where the other two inquisitors stood present. They had the misfortune of both losing their aides in the fighting, Barnabus being the sole survivor of his contingent. If there was any resentment, I did not sense it, but I would not put it past them. Small wonder my command had led to all except my unit being almost decimated to the man.

"I feel like I've been shot four times, but I think I was only hit twice..." I said in an attempt of humor. I gave her a tight lipped smile to her, but resisted the urge to run my hand through her hair. The other inquisitors need not be worried over our fraternization at this time. "It does me well to see you're alright. And you too, old man."

Lazarus let out a small, particular code of binary which I had grown to learn was a derisive snort of a laugh.

"Inquisitor Amator and Reichgleib, I am truly saddened at your losses. But be comforted in the fact that we have this day halted a plan that would have decimated the entirety of the sector. My people and resources are at your disposal for anything you need prior to your departure, and you have my eternal thanks." I strode forward, holding a small cane I had been granted to hold my form up so as to approach the desk. "Do you have anything you wish to report to me before word reaches the Ordo?"

"No. The Xenos known as the Necrons are not unknown to my ordo." Barnabus said. "But I did manage to requisition some samples. It was the last thing Terminos managed to gift me before he fell in the fighting."

"A good man." I said, though I had my reservations on collecting xenos technologies for research without being under extreme supervision, but he was an inquisitor and it was his right. "Cornelius?"

"Yes, we came across a strange catacomb of glass except...the glass was made from some unknown warp material that held time in place. There were things there I never thought I would see, but I would need to look over my books before I could comment further. I was told you viewed something similar inquisitor?"

I knew this was coming, and I nodded my acquiescence. "Yes, and my aide and I even managed to open one. We found something we never would have thought possible. Come, let me show you something." I told them, and without waiting for their questions I turned about face and walked to the door at the back of the room with Emmaline's help. Lazarus opened the door and kept it ajar as we walked into the larger foyer where my squadron of men stood as rigid as statues, and the towering, hulking form of Lucius Raj stood, his warhelm held underneath his arm.

He had a shaven, brutish head with strange eyes that looked almost animalistic, and a jaw one could use as a cudgle. And yet he had a nobility to the barbaric look, gazing down at the inquisitors with a gaze that was almost judgemental.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I looked down at the chaos sorcerer with contempt, feeling wholly unsatisfied at the death but knowing it would hit me eventually. I wonder if Kronus could see me, and if he would approve of my one-man crusade and if I could have served my time better elsewhere. I knew that was not the case. Any heretic and damon summoner was worth my attention, but when one suffers a loss, even if only the loss of a familiarity, they began to question things. I breathed in deeply and sheathed my power sword. I felt an intense wave of indecision. Now I did not know what I would do with myself. Yes, I was to go home finally, but this was my first and only mission alone...

The rumbling grew louder, and I turned to see the last Chimera rolling up. I blinked, as if seeing it for the first time. Lucius Raj stepped over to me, crushing the skeletal corpse of one of the machine-xenos as he did so. Bleeding with dented armor, he was harmed but very much not dead. I looked from the Thunder Warrior to the cavernous halls of the strange eldtritch sanctum, and the Chimera's back end fell open like a falling anvil, swinging with a loud squeak before a thunderous crash onto the ground.

"Hadrian! We have to go!" Emmaline called to me.

She was alive and well! Good. Her face and the faces of the men, along with sergeant Ravjek spurred me into action finally. My eyes steeled and I stepped away from the rotting corpse of Bahometus, vaulting over the short wall and stepping onto the chimera.

"Make room! We need space for one more." I told them. "Ravjek, you and Hergan go up front with the pilot. Lucius, hurry aboard!"

"No, commander." The Thunder Warrior said, his helm betraying no emotion. I could hear none from his voice either, and yet there was something touching when I expanded my mind to sense the outer rim of his thoughts. "This is no longer my world. My galaxy. Let me die here fighting these things. I can keep them busy while you escape."

"You'll only be trapped in stasis again!" I yelled, my hand gripping the railing as I leaned over the dropped, back walkway. "You have the opportunity to do some real good here. Come with us." I felt as if my words were clanging against his archaic power armor as effectively as small arms fire, and yet I sensed he was on the precipice of a decision. I looked him square in his visor and spoke with all the authority of my office. "For whatever brief time it has been, you have been under my command. And I never leave a soldier behind. Get in here and let me show you the Imperium you helped create those millennia ago."

Another few seconds passed, Emmaline gripping my arm and whispering we needed to go. The soldiers murmured and I felt Ravjek watch intently.

The Thunder Warrior stepped forward and entered the Chimera, slowly so we might move back and give the giant space. The machine creaked under the weight of the gene-warrior, but with a squeeze we fit. The Chimera began to roll before its back hatch even shut, loud cranking and exhaust whisping in the air as the green, sickly glow of the xenos chamber was slowly shut away.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

One acolyte was pierced in the shoulder, a slug punching through ligaments and sending him barking a cry of pain until the second slug ended his life. Another was gunned down with two to the chest, folding in his strange metallic fetishes he wore on his black robes, blood spewing out onto the steel floor. The third had more time to act, arcing his staff at me to send a wave of psychic energy crashing over me as if to crush both my mind and body. I raised my mental defenses and focused my will, redirecting his psychic assault to the 'left' in my mind, though the realm of the mind was much different than physical reality where left and right were not really concepts one could utilize. Before he could regroup for a second assault, I put a round through the center of his head and then fired at Bahometus, only for my autogun to click empty.

I holstered it with a scowl and sprinted forward, igniting my power sword. Bullets sprang across the steel at my feet and I fired wildly to my left at the heretics across the next alcove, killing one and sending another to the floor with a glancing shot. Even as I whirred back around and found myself bearing down on the helpless sorcerer, red dots of light returned to his visored visage, glowing brighter as he regained his sensibilities. Damn, I wasn't quick enough!

He hissed a sibilant word of power and whipped his hand forward, blue lightning arcing towards me with an attempt to hit center mass. I dropped my autogun and gripped the hilt of my blessed power sword with both hands, crying out a litany of the emperor. The lightning seared into the blade like a rod, the power in the weapon flickering for a brief moment as the warp-lightning was dissipated. It did not stay out, however, the weapon roaring back to life as I got within striking range. Bahometus raised his goat-headed staff, blocking my first swing with the stave. Clearly it was imbued with powerful warp energies if it could survive a single stroke of a power sword.

I pressed the attack, hacking at his left, only to feint and redirect my blade to scrape across his right shoulder. He screamed with abandon and went to bludgeon me to death, but a quick block and a riposte that clove a jagged line through his chest ended his ambitions to kill me, sending the chaos sorcerer to his knees. Black bile one might mistake as blood oozed from the wound. The staff fell from his fingers, and I looked on with disgust as something slimy and alive wriggled from within his chest cavity.

Heavy breaths escaped his horned helm, and for the first time in five years I heard his voice. It was intensely deep, and yet held an echo as if he spoke from down a metal corridor.

"I... am not done, inquisitor. You cannot stop the Changer of Ways." He warned, drawing in a long, wet breath. "My death is just the beginning. You will know before the end, there is no stopping the Ruinous Gods."

"If your death was just the beginning, you would not have fought back. I won't listen to a lying cur." I spat, my blade twirling in an arc of light that burned the senses before I held it aloft as an executioner, as taught in my physical-exams of the sword. "Bahometus, follower of the dark gods and thrice damned sorcerer of the warp, I, Hadrian Drakos of the Ordo Malleus do sentence you to die. You will receive no last words."

I did not know if he would have protested. He did not seem to, and without delay or hesitation, I sent my sword down. Not through the neck, but at the top of his skull so I could split him in two and cleave through whatever mutations lay inside of his accursed body. The light from my weapon was blindingly bright, and as my sword hit the steel below, the daemons that fought the xenos grabbed their horned heads and screeched in unison, a sound that pierced into the very brains of all that heard it. Even the abominable intelligences of the necrons were slowed for a moment as the daemons began to ripple like mirages on the desert and fade away into nothingness.

Fortune & Glory: Grimdark Pulp RP

Beren finished his small starter, one of the diminutive sandwiches with the addicting sauces. They were expensive as hell, he knew. Only three other times in his life had he been lucky enough to eat one of these with this sort of sauce, and all of them were parties his father had been invited to when he was a small lad. He was going to take full advantage of the food here and Jocasta would likely want to try some too. He started filling up their plates, balancing the two on a tray like a skilled waiter.

As he did so, someone approached him. Beren glanced up, and then did a double take as he realized it was an elf. A brown haired elf, with squared shoulders and a noble air about him. He inclined his head to Beren in an uncharacteristically humble fashion, and Beren did the same as well. He might have been partially raised by dwarves, but he held no enmity to the fey folk. In fact, he had a few wood elven comrades he called friends back home.

"Well met. I hope I'm not interrupting," The Elf said with a smile, his face perfectly proportioned and his eyes filled with wisdom. Beren wondered if elves thought most men looked alike as how men often saw all elves as handsome, with high-cheek bones that accentuated their fair faces.

"No, of course not. What can I help you with?" Beren asked.

"I heard tell a young human here that fit your description had lived with the stout folk as a child. I wondered if that was you," He asked. Beren's surprise was evident apparently, for the elf pressed the issue. "What was that like?"

"Very fun," the monk remarked sincerely. He did not think of it as such at the time, but he found he increasingly looked back on the experience fondly. The work was hard and everyone was grumpy or grim, but there was a sense of loyalty and honor he had never known he could feel. No wonder the dwarves never had infighting. They had a singular purpose and a society that was as well built as their crafts. "It was tough on a teenage, especially a human one. But it taught me more than a few things. I wouldn't change it."

"There must be a tale there. Ah, I did not introduce myself. I am Alberad of Abelorn. I am here studying runic script of giants."

"Beren. It's nice to meet you, Alberad." He remarked, placing a plate down to shake the elf's hand. The silver elf glanced at the hand for a moment before something clicked and he reached for it, as if that wasn't a common greeting in his lands. Beren wouldn't know. Perhaps one day he would go there, if fate allowed. "May I ask you a question Alberad?"

"I am an open book, my friend." He replied.

"I've never asked an elf, and the dwarves I've spoken to never give me a good answer. What's it like living for centuries?" Beren inquired, and it sounded like a very innocent query whilst simultaneously being entirely morbid. The longing of wanting to know due to the short lives of the menfolk, and yet still presented as simple curiosity. Alberad took his hand back and took a moment to simply smile thoughtfully.

"Too long..." He said, and then added. "Too short, as well."

"Much the same with us," Beren remarked, and inclined his head once more. "I suppose it's all relative."

He saw Alberad's eyes flick to his right, and Beren heard the clearing of a throat that announced someone else wished to speak with him. He glanced to his right and saw a delectable redhead with big eyes looking at him, standing very close as if they were already familiar. Beren raised his brow's, not wanting to be impolite. "Hello, may I help you?"

"Care to dance?" She asked, brushing his arm with her hand.

"Eh, um, I don't know how. And I'm here with someone." He assured her, trying to let her down as gently as he could before looking past her to the table where he had left Jocasta. Instead, he saw her turned back as she made her way toward the drink table. That was sort of odd, he thought. "If you'll both excuse me."

She took his arm, just firmly enough so as not to spill the food in his hands. "I'm a good teacher," she assured him. "Please, just a few dances! It looks like she's already decided to make an exit."

"How do you know who she is?" Beren asked, suspicion forming in his face. "No, thank you. I appreciate it but I've made up my mind."

As he attempted to walk past her, she stuck her foot out as if she were attempting to bar his way. To his view it seemed a bit more sinister than that, and he caught himself easily, hopping a step forward and re-balancing the plates in his hands. He looked back at her with an accusatory gaze, only to see she had fallen herself. There was no way that was possible, he decided. The woman lifted her head and pointed at Beren, calling out. "You fiend! Striking a woman at a party?" She followed the accusation by sobbing into her hands.

The closest in the crowd looked over, some with curiosity and others with barely disguised disgust when they judged the situation. Beren felt this was going to get out of hand quick, and sure enough, four burly men in jerkins to show a veneer of civility to their rough faces waded from various designated points along the party to intercept him before he could go any further. Beren wondered if he should stop and talk his way out, fight, or simply allow himself to be escorted out. Where was Jocasta going?

"Jocasta!" Beren called over the din of the festivities. His arms with grabbed, but he struggled, a sandwich hitting the floor. "Jo!"

"He did not strike any woman!" Alberad called from across the table. "Unhand him!"