Yuuna huffed as she walked back and forth behind the long, black bar table of the Ironflame Tavern. Dressed in a loose, long sleeved overshirt that occasionally slipped to one side, and a mid-calf dress of blood red swishing about her well tanned legs, the demon cat-woman looked like a stern hell-cat as she worked to serve her clientèle. Her long auburn, brown hair was tied loosely at the base of her neck and had grown to reach the back of her thighs.

She had come to work at the bar by sheer luck. Arriving in the town of Gristol two years ago only to have her all money stolen, her new clothes nearly robbed from her mere skin, and nearly preyed on by hungry men had it not been for Freylios Ironflame, the owner of the tavern she now worked at. The thirty-eight year old man took pity on her, gave her a job and a place to stay. At first during those first few months, she was skeptical about working as a waitress and bartender in a rowdy, sea side bar where many people of all kinds gathered to drink and rest. She never saw a werewolf, a fishman or an elf before until she began working there. How sheltered her life was before then...

Yet she come to appreciate her job and the kind man (who she later learned to be a shape-shifting eagle) that she worked for. Over the years, she grew a reputation as "Ironfalme's pet" for his protectiveness over her safety and simply "Kitten" for her demonic looks and temperament. Should those of any gender mess with her and disregard Ironflame's protection, they met her sharp claws and fangs.

Now it was Happy Hour at Ironflame's and Yuuna, as well as all the other bartenders and waitresses. were on their toes serving mugs and pitchers of liquor and sweet waters. Wiping her hands unconsciously on her ale-stained apron, the cat demon accepted some client's payment before turning to another face, ready to take his order.

"Aye, and what will you be having?" she asked while meeting the eyes of the next customer. Another man who was also leaving, waved farewell which she responded to with a bright smile.

The sea-elf Grayson smiled at the good looking waitress, she was the lady he had stolen from years ago and had come back to repay. He couldn't give her the stuff he stole, for that's how he had started his business as a small time trader of needed goods.
"Hello my dear, I dont think you would remember me, but I owe you much more than i am about to give you." He says as he passes her 65 gold coins in a leather pouch, "this is three times the amount of what i stole from you that long time ago, when you first came here. I am truly sorry."

Staring down at the pouch in her hand, she snapped her head back up to stare at the elf in front of her.

"It was...you?" she whispered, knowing the creature's sharp hearing could hear her hushed words. This was the one who made her so unfortunate all those months ago. Staring at the money, she felt a sting of anger but it quickly faded to nothing. How could she be angry, when really she was better off than before?

She was originally a noble's niece who had been sent away to switch ships for the western waters. But now....she was different. Ironflame made her different, and she couldn't have been more disappointed in herself than Frey had she taken the money. Besides, elves were noble if not fickle creatures whose history was more older than most.

Smirking at the elf, she moved the pouch over his head and gently touched his crown then dropped it back into his. "Your apology is all I accept. My living is honest and that includes my earnings, so I'll be under forced circumstances before I take hand outs. Use the money and get yourself a drink!" she mock scolded while reaching a hand out to take another handful of payment. She didn't to look at it to know if it was corrent, the weight was enough.

"You're being rude if you don't introduce yourself around here, master elf." Yunna murmured as she poked her finger at another customer's scalp who was falling asleep in his mug of sweet berry brew.

"oh dearie me, I'm sorry. My name cant be pronounced by any other kind than elves.. but if you like, you can call me Grayson, and the money for the drink is three coppers, so, there are three coppers included in this bag. This money was also made honorably, you made my business venture possible and it has blown into a business beyond my dreams." Grayson said, grinning, "besides, money given cannot be given back to an elf, its dishonorable for us."
The sea elves are the kind of curious people that pick things of interest up and seem to walk away with them without noticing. Some have become thieves and that has given the race a bad name. Grayson is no exception, he stole only once, and that was Yunna, to make his business work.

"Grayson" she tried the name then shook her head. "It fits you, but you wouldn't mind if I called you Rayson, then?"

Young Yunna was also known for giving people nicknames, whether based off their own names or something based off their personality. Sighing, she took the money pouch back and inclined heead in thanks. Her mother raised her long enough to not turn down gifts, no matter how stubborn she could be.

Giving a whistle, a green haired man with stubble and a scratched face appeared at her side with a lopsided smirk.He was her friend and co-manager of the bar on Happy Hour, named mainly Tuwer. She gave him the pouch and nodded to the funds safe that was located in the back rooms. He got the message, patted her head and was off before she could land a hit on his ankle with her foot. She may be fast, but some were faster.

"That looked like it would've hurt, too bad you missed," Grayson snickered, "and I guess you could call me Rayson. It doesn't matter what you call me really. I would like a pint of the finest Red Ruans Ale that you have, if you would be so kind."
She's pretty, its a good thing she's still safe, I feel bad about what i did to her all that time ago. If only I could do more for her. Maybe I'll research why she was here, and help her that way.

Qrax'Tkux the corruptor, a reasonably powerfull demon looked up at the inn Ironflame inn He thought, Nice name He stepped inside, disguised as a common human peddler, and older man with greying hair and a brown traveling cloak that was covered in dirt & grime. He looked around the inside of the place Cozy was his first impression. He gave the man behind the bar a friendly smile and ordered a glass of rum. He surveyed the various people in the room, most were average traveler types, though two stuck out in particular..a sea elf and a female hellcat Ally? Hmm.. His thoughts whirled around the various ways he tempted & corrupted people.
He finished his drink and with a sigh, opened his "shop". His wares included clothes, vanity items(mirrors, make-up & jewlrey), various weapons, and several spell books. All the items bore a very minor charm that would slowly begin to change the person into a more..agreeable type, to his twisted standards at least. He was calling himself "Unther porthos."

Yuuna nodded at his order and turned towards the large shelves of mugs that lined the mirrored walls behind the tavern bar. She picked a green speckled mug with black lines along the middle. Her hand barely reached the tap of the Red Ruans Ale tankard when the through the main door in the front came Ironflame himself. In his arms was his little two year old son, Tilith.

At his entrance, everyone cheered and raised their mug to him before gulping it down. He strode through the bar and nodded every which way. His short, cropped hair was an ever brown with narrowed, amber eyes and a chiseled, long face. When he came to the corner that led to the back rooms and the stairs that led to the second level where his living quarters was, he met his young ward's gaze with a smile.

"How goes the buissness , little one?" he asked ruffly while tickling his son in his side.

A bright flush made its way across the demon's girls cheeks before she blew a stray bang from her cheek. "Busting as ever. Thankfully we have enough hands today since its the end of the week. The sixth and seventh days we serve the hardest."

"That you should. Carry on, Cai me girl." He disappeared up the stairs and Caieng returned swiftly with Rayson's ale and took the copper coins that were waiting on the bars surface.

"Calling me little....dumb Frey....grumble..."huffed the cat as she harshly grabbed another mug empty mug that needed cleaning and began to scrub hard at the insides. She ignored some of the others snickering for her crush on her guardian was obvious, despite their age difference and what not. She just hated being so emotional and open about it.

Grabbing some foam from the soapy water she used, she flung the suds at several of them, yelling for them to hush their traps.

"So, you uh, like the owner?" Grayson said, holding back a grin, "I think that would be a good match. Age doesn't matter if the relationship is strong, maybe that's my way of thinking because we sea elves live several hundred years or if that thinking is more than just us."
Little one, that's funny, she doesn't seem to like that one.
Quaffing the top of the mug before gulping a few more mouthfuls of it down, he glanced over at the man who had opened a small area that had some items for sale. Grayson recognized the signs on the items, but said nothing, he would not interfere with another mans business until it was life threatening.
Walking over to the man, he asked "How is business going my good sir?"

Rion, who had just gotten threw slaying, Omega, one of the Ultimate Universal Androids, and right after recovering decided to take a little vacation. His appearance was the same as usuall, as he walked into the tavern. He began to browse the bar and scan the race of the people all around. Due to him having Fayth, blood he could see the races of the people scattered across the tavern. Normally he would go to a expensive and broadened place, but he was tired of stuck up people, and he had warped to this side of the universe to get some peace. He prooceded to walk inside, as he continued to browse.

Name: Rion Lemington
Age: Over 4000 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Titan/Fayth
Eye Color: He has Radiant Red, Glimmering eyes
Hair Color: A Bloody Red Color
Hair style: His hair is spiky all around, with some hair spiked in front or more like right above his face, and has a tendency of slicking his hair back, with a strand, dangling in front of his face, especially when showing up formal.
Weapons: Albinus: A blade given to Rion by his grandfather, a blade said to contain the magical power to cut through anything. It is a blade, that when powered has the ability to cut though any type of material even space itself. To the hardest metal to the hardest skin, it can cut it all as long as it is powered it can cut it all. The only side effect of the blade is that after use you feel the pain of the opponent you killed using the power for days to come, though it doesn’t have a name it is used to destroy the toughest of foes. It appears to be a red blade with black inscriptions on it that contain a seal. The handle appears to be made of certain black steel, and also looks as if it is a dragon with its mouth open. The legend of the blade is a mystery; some say it was crafted by the God of Blacksmithing, Hephaistos. It was said to be the final blade he made before he disappeared to a mysterious death.
Shining Tears: A set of combat daggers, known for their ability to be thrown. Their range is quite long, ranging from a few feet in front of him to as far as a few miles away, and when throw fly at the speed of light, and they can be thrown to a larger range, depending on the angle and the soul energy in his body. He can also pull the daggers back if they haven’t exploded. Upon impact to anything they explode but not with fire. They explode with a type of holy soul energy that can heat to above 500 degrees, and can melt through a lot of things that you thought was UN melt able.
Beowulf: Gauntlets given to Rion by Batym when he went to the underworld to find the Rune of destruction. These gauntlets energize Rion, giving him agility and when hit by these, expect to get hit by a combo of hits that will leave you vulnerable and unable to block the following attacks that are dealt to you. The lightning touch that he has the ability to do can neutralize any type of electricity objects.
Skills: Gouenken (go-do-ayken): Unleashes a massive fire to consume the enemy in flame. Leaves a burn mark lots of times that and, can damage you thought the battle. This is an almost instant skill. When this is done, it can be done multiple times at almost ease.
Souryuuken: (sor-y-oo-ken): A spinning, charging attack with the jutting swords. Using all of his inner power he usually deals great damage to his foe with this one, but can be very inaccurate. When hit though it is almost a guarantee piercing move, it is likely to be an piercing move to usually use on someone that has a high guard, or has a built up defense, such as metal or such.
Dankuuken: Unleashes a shockwave that strikes down his enemies. Usually he connects this to his initial swing, at the enemy. The shockwave being all around him is hard to dodge (More powerful in Ifrit form)
Ryuugatou: He calls upon the power of the god of martial arts, and the wielder of the Mursamune to summon Yamatao, wielder of the cursed blade, as a type of summon. The power of Rion is drained slowly, but him and Yamatao can fight, and fight kind of as one, as Yamatao hovers above Rion using moves as well as Rion himself. Yamatao’s final attack allows him to fuse himself into the blade and give it to Rion in which Rion will force it into energy creating a unreal size on energy in which he drops it on his foe, having a good chance of killing the foe.
Tenseiken: When this skill is used a multitude of arrows imbuded with Jenron crystal on the tip rain down on the foe. This comes down like rain for 5 minutes tops. Upon finishing there is a cool down before the skill can be used again depending on how long it lasted.
Gaisenken Gate: Plunges him and his foe into a world created for the Fayth to have an advantage with the type of gravity, atmosphere, and the type of background. Fayth in this world are much faster at blinding speeds, and when they want to dash they can even move to half the speed of light speeds, thought it drains quite the amount of power out of him. This world can only be broken by him or another fayth’s command.
Sorrow of a Thousand Cries: He summons the forbidden weapon Xeno, Der Wille zur Macht a weapon crafted by the 3rd Colony of Riese Federation Interpirises, a weapon created on complete accident one day. They were creating a device that would be able to trace the famous Xth element. Someone in secret was doing something else, using their research he created a weapon that would take a type of power non other than the infamous “Ultima”. Thus creating a rune known as Xeno, which stands for destruction, and the other words meaning of all. The weapon is summoned to obliterate his foe but can only be summoned when in the Divine Guardian form and when he has reached maximum limit in the Gaisenken world. (Editing still, don’t want to overdue it.)

Ifrit Skills

Hell Battlefield: The second he hits Ifrit form he transforms the field into a fiery destroyed battle field, doing a Aoe blast upon everything around him, his strong foes won’t take much damage but the weak ones will probably be annihilated depending on the enemy. Depending on how much he destroyed can contribute to the rage that will come afterwards also the situation he is in.
Hellfire Break: Creates a huge fireball, more like a meteor, and swats it at his foe. The fire is unbelievably hot, even hotter than the sun itself. This is a pretty self-explanatory skill.
Hellfire Wave: He can unleash following a roar, and using some power he can unleash a gigantic wave of fire and rock from all angles of his body, doing damage around, another Aoe attack, but as well it doesn’t do much.

Divine Guardian Skills

Holy Blade: Summons a spiritual blade to combat his foes. Has the best effect if used on an undead enemy and demons.
Phantom Shift: Allows his after images to strike as well as him, following his moves. In the end he can strike 20 times maximum be merely swinging once due to his afterimages following right behind.
Shield of Gram: This cannot be summoned at the same time as the holy blade. The shield given to him by the God of protection Castro, this shield protects him from mostly melee damage.

Transformations: Ifrit, the Titan: Being related to the Ruler of the Eternal Flames, he can call on his ancestor’s power to transform him temporarily into Ifrit. When in this form he calls on all of his rage from deep within to fight his battle, and he goes into a somewhat sub-conscious form in which he can’t control his attacks, but Ifrit with all of his rage from within controls his attacks and uses them to strike down the foe at hand. He doesn’t stop until Rion has gained the strength to take back consciousness and kick Ifrit out of his body.
Divine Guardian: Given to him, after the Cloister of Trials, a test given to him from Overlord Drake to complete to become one of the grand guardians of Drake. This power blesses him with more power to speed. All of his clothes are transformed into bright yellow and white armour and he wields the legendary blade told in countless tales of bravery and fights Durandal, blade formally wielded by the White Knight, who was the very first OverLord Drake’s prime guardian of their time, and guarded him against any foe that came his way. The White Knight, title was passed down to Rion after passing and he received the Durandal. He wielded it along with the Shield of Aegis against all who opposed them, and guarded Drake, as they went through the portal to find the Twilight blade and to find one of the gods. Going into this form grows him huge white wings said to appear normal but to be as hard as steel. He also acquires a few new skills upon activating this form.
(Im tired, will get around to finish this off tommorow, I just wanted to give you a good layout of my character.)

Against his better judgment, a tall, robed figure stumbled into the tavern. Hiding his form was a long, black robe, the hood pulled up to obscure his face. A small stack of books was held in one arm, which didn't help the fellow's balance as he limped over to a table in the corner, dropping down into the chair and letting out a sigh. He set the stack of books on the table with a thump, panting as he allowed himself to consider the preceding events. He had never run so much in his life, much less for something as trivial as a book. But it was a book, a very important one, at that, and he wasn't about to see it burned. One of his decoy exploding books might have worked, he considered. Had he possessed one that looked anything like the one he had just taken. He took a book from the middle of the stack; a small book with flowery designs etched into the gleaming, golden cover.
He pulled off his hood, revealing his pale face and ear-to-ear grin. He couldn't have been a day over twenty-five, and yet there was a pair of half-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, despite the alert appearance of his dark green eyes. His shoulder-length black hair looked well (almost meticulously) groomed, all in all giving him the appearance of a scholar. And a scholar he was, though he wasn't quite as peaceful as many would like to believe. He flipped through the golden book, the letters appearing little more than incomprehensible squiggles to all but the well-trained and seasoned eye. As the symbols flipped by, the weary grin only growing wider. It was everything that he needed and more. Pursuits called foolish, brash, and impossible could at last be completed. Everything he'd hoped and wished for was to come to fruition, and his grin disappeared, giving way to a tiny smirk as he put the book back in the stack.
His head inclined upwards, sniffing audibly. Something was wrong. There were things here, to be sure. Unsavory, evil things. He knew he couldn't risk beginning to run again; he was too tired, and it would be far too obvious. He would play it off, leave casually, and maybe they wouldn't find him. His green eyes locked on the barmaid, giving her a very expectant look. His right hand went to the wrist of the left, fingers running along it and then receding, satisfied. Everything was in order.

Some of the bartenders were seen holding up fingers towards one another. Curiously, half were counting the number of waiters and waitresses that should be in the fray, while the other half counted the number that was. After every attempt, they noticed that one finger was always astray; a waiter was not working at the moment, and at Happy Hour no less! This was something that no waiter or waitress was commit to, for it would considered an act of treason. No one could have such obliviousness. Well, there was one. They all began to beat on the back door, knowing all to well what was happening, and the procedure to undertake.

"Dimitri! Get in here!" Shouted one of the bartenders, the others accompanying with loud cries.

"What do you think he is doing in there?" Asked one of the less experienced bartenders."

"Probably what he does every day." Murmured another.

"Well I don't care; he can take however he wants any other time, but not now!"

Dimitri, all the while, was taking his brake, while at the moment had lasted 45 minutes, well above the maximum. What was this waiter during all that while, one might ask? Writing. Writing equations, which no one seemed to understand as more than gibberish. Whenever Dimitri went missing, he was almost always spending his time in the back room, writing equations on the walls with chalk. As a result, the walls were covered with line after line of equations, all of which ran across all four of the walls and with little space remaining. No one dared to wash the equations off; Dimitri, though a calm and collected person, was also unpredictable; what would he due, if he found his many weeks of work destroyed? For all the working crew of the Ironflame Tavern was concerned, he was just about capable of anything at this rate; Dimitri was one of those types of people who were simply odd, possibly on the line of insane.

Yet, it was still Happy Hour, and though Dimitri was not aware of it, they needed as much help as they could get at a time like this. And so, one of the more confident bartenders opened the door, slowly at first, before slamming the door onto the wall to attract Dimitri's attention. It didn't. Accompanying the initial bartender was a larger, overweight bartender, who began to draw closer to Dimitri, who was not noticing their presences in the least, or if anything was ignoring their existence. With swift hands the two latched onto Dimitri's shoulders, and hoisted him up a couple of feet in the air. Despite the fact that Dimitri was at least a foot taller than they were, he was not physically strong, and despite all of his struggling, he was eventually carried off into the main room, and dropped onto the floor.

"Get in their you little clown!"

"Yeah, write your whatevers on your own time!"

The two bartenders returned to their posts, though kept their eyes on Dimitri, in case he tried to pull something.

"Alright, alright." Dimitri voiced in his signature loud and tenor voice. No matter the situation, he was always excessively loud for no truely explained reason. "I'm getting on to it. Don't have a heart attack, tubby."

Dimitri walked off towards a customer, one who had adorn a black robe, looking like a signature scholar to most. Dimitri did not notice this fact; from where he looked from, he looked like a clown. Ironically, Dimitri always wore the traditionally scholarly uniform of his people, which to most appeared to be a jester costume.

"Ca... can I take your or... der, Sir?" Dimitri struggled to let out, all the while trying to hold back hysterical laughter. His lips were noticably curled into a smile despite his efforts; he could just barely contain himself.

Zach looked up, gazing at Dimitri with a bemused sort of smile. Did the waiters in this place all dress like clowns? The idea made him chuckle, "My order?" he echoed, as though he had never heard the term. "Very well," he said, "Firstly, I order you to explain your garb. Secondly, I order that you explain what you are supposed to be." one of his hands went to rest on his stack of books, "Once you get on that, we'll talk about sustenance." Maybe he had a special waiter, he considered, like some sort of gimmick that the tavern had. While other waiters would take your order and scurry off, maybe this one would tell jokes and dance, and then hurry off.
He sincerely hoped that this jester didn't drag things out. But, if it was funny, Zach doubted that mattered. Maybe that was why the fellow was snickering; he was thinking up jokes to tell, perhaps based on Zach's appearance or his books. If the jester decided to start grabbing at them, however, things would swiftly get violent. He smelled the evil ones there, the ones that would try to take his new book, and Zach couldn't discount that this jester could be one of them. Zach would keep alert, no matter how funny the fellow was.

A human slave ran through the dirty street. He was under pursuit by his master. His thin, malnourished body flashed past peoples homes, as he searched for freedom. Kenneth looked back. His only possesion, his ragged loincloth flapped faster. He could see his master gaining on him, with a posse in tow. Seeing the light of a tavern, he sprinted inside. He darted through the people, and jumped behind the bar, ducking under one of the tables.

Cold, fearful sweat covered his body. he saw a cat-demon and -- A clown?

Rion just ignored everything happening around him as he took up a glass of bear and poured it down his face. He hadn't seen Luztharen in a while since their encounter with Nao, Kinta, and the Red Technocracy, which had him wondering did they sucessfully murder him. No. He was much to smart to fall for such a thing, and far to clever, being the leader of the Black Mages, was no small award, it told you that you were a clever being who mastered the arts of magic. He then remembered that Tonelcius, the immortal warlock, was in that group as well, which had him wondering. He couldn't keep his mind off of the war, and now adays all he could think about was battle. The battle with Omega resulted in the destruction of a planet that he was held accountable for. The universe knew him as the "Crimson Reaper", and that would probably be his title till the end of time itself, whereever or whenever it ends.

"Ehh? Oh not too bad kiddo, so..you see any'thin' yeh'like?" ""Unther" asked the young man. He started hocking his wears, his voice loud & clear as he began describing his items.
He moved easily through the crowded tavern, working the crowd like a seasoned proffessional, wich he was, considering that his normal clientele were monsters. He handed out well crafted compliments when needed, and was always smiling.

This clown's a little uptight, Dimitri thought. Is this what passes for funny around here?

Despite the man's amusing attire, he certainly wasn't funny. In fact, he seemed a little too serious for his own good. This took Dimitri by surprised; he had expected a jovial man with jokes and tricks up his sleeve. Noticing the books on the desk, it began to become clearer; he was a student of some sort, though Dimitri could not think of scholar, for his clothing was simply too silly for such a profession. Then again, scholars of his world spend half the day studying, and the other half amusing children with entertaining stories and games. Perhaps this clown simply allowed his apparel to do the talking.

"My garb?" Dimitri said as he wondered how anyone could speak of another's clothing with such scorn, all the while wearing the custom of a professional fool. "It is what it is. Who am I supposed to be? I haven't a clue. However, I am a waiter, and would love to take your order."

Dimitri was playing a sort of game with the scholar. He felt obligated to lighten up this poor man, who seemed too interested in books to really see anything else. Determined people always seem blind to everything around them, other than the thing they are focused on. This jester did not seem much different; he was too busy reading books to realize that he wasn't funny, or at least that was what Dimitri thought. Regardless, despite the intellect of the two gentlemen, the other assumed that their company was but an entertainment act, both being blind to one another's actual identity.

Kenneth heard his master in the crowd. He clambered to Yenna's feet.

"HIDE ME!" He hissed. "I'll do anything you ask of lme later, please help me now!!!" he cast his wide eyes across the bar, his bare body shivering.

a girl with a weird floating object walks in haveing left the last bulidng she was at and saw kenneth, smileing she ran over to him "um sorry about being late here's your package" she said handing him the package

"her sense of direction is bad..." the object was heard to remark to which the girl spun round and faced it

"ugh...it's not THAT bad model L!" she yelled a it then relized she most likely looked crazy and turned arund laughing, "um... sorry..."