The Rolling Head tavern was rowdy as always. A raucous crowd of drunks and revellers settling in for a night's heavy drinking. The tavern was a well known way station for travellers on the highways bound for Northwall, sitting as it did in a convenient crossroads where both southerly and westerly routes met. The tall grass outside swayed in the winter winds, the pale light of the moon bathing the countryside in a silvery glow that rendered the world in inky black shapes against the sky

Inside the warmth of the hearth crackled and fizzed, casting its warm glow across the interior of the common room even as the tall sillhouettes of its occupants danced across the walls like shadow puppets against a performer's curtain. One man, a jester by trade judging from his appearance made a merry jig before the open fire, his reddened nose and ruddy cheeks betraying his drunkeness despite his nimble steps. His eyes were creased in laughter and his narrow face split by a mad grin that seemed to carry from ear to ear. A bard meanwhile plied his trade, spinning tunes and rhymes to keep the merry fool dancing and the others laughing. Many of the other patrons were jeering at the dancing lunatic, tossing all manner of detrius at him as though they were pelting a criminal in the stocks. A frail old man dressed in the faded livery of some feudal lord stared into the firelight with a forelorn expression, warming his hands by its heat.

It was a typical night in the Rolling Head and like any other night there was more excitement to come.

It was warm inside, something he was deeply grateful for. It wasn't because it was too terribly cold, in fact, the last time he had checked, the weather had been fairly nice, but more because the thought of a nice, warm meal had lured him inside in the Rolling Head. He just knew that he'd go crazy if he'd have to spent yet another day without something proper to eat, so when he had passed by, he hadn't been able to resist the urge to go inside. Murdoch had just finished eating, and soup had never before tasted so divine. Now he sat alone by a table, facing the fireplace, and the dancer. He had a small smile on his face as he looked at the man, being completely sure that the drunken guy surely was having the time of his life. On his shoulder, a four legged bird sat, it's talons digging into the leather strap that was there to keep it from tearing the skin off of him.

The bird itself was for the most part ghastly, and looked slightly reminiscent of a reptile, but it's wings and voice was stunning. It had just been wasted on that particular bird, since it had not been meant to sit and look pretty. It made a low noise at him, one he only heard since there was a break in the music, and he turned his head slightly.

"Be patient." The silver haired man whispered to it, as he turned his attention back to the things going on in the room. For a moment, he felt a little alone seeing all the others there, chatting and laughing, but the feeling was quickly replaced by the thought that he was pretty happy just sitting by himself in the corner. The bird made another noise at him, only to be ignored this time. Murdoch was far away in his own thoughts.

Some time passed and a man approached Murdoch, walking slowly towards him in the overly careful manner of one who was drunk enough that they had trouble moving with precision, but sober enough that they could realise it. The man was clothed in odd looking robes of eastern design. A long, double breasted white robe of heavy cloth fastened about the waist by a sash of black silk covered by a light, sleeveless jacket of royal blue trimmed in golden thread that hung loosely about him as he staggered towards the man and his bird. When he finally reached Murdoch's table he fairly fell to his knees, propping himself up on his elbows and eyeing the bird curiously as he leant over to speak to the younger man.

"Excuse me, young man." The robed stranger spoke in slurred yet measured speech that lent his words a peculiarly high classed air. His accent, only emphasized in this state was unmistakably Vectian. "But what is that remarkable creature you have there?" He pointed at the bird on Murdoch's shoulder, lifting his head in the other man's direction even as it lolled foolishly like a puppet's, his eyes trying to focus on his new acquaintance's own but no doubt finding it hard due to his blurred vision.

The man appeared to be in his late twenties, with a well trimmed moustache and beard that framed his mouth. His dark hair reached down to his shoulders and was parted in the middle so that it hung on either side of his face like a pair of lank curtains. On his long, roman nose sat a pair of small round glasses behind which peered out narrow, dark eyes, bleary from too much drink. His whole face was lined in a way that only enhanced his already noble looking appearance.

A gloved hand came to rest on the man's shoulder, gently but urgently tugging him away from Murdoch's personal space. Behind the drunken fellow stood a mountain of a man, with shoulders as broad as the benches on which Murdoch sat.

"Come on, Vincent." The tall man spoke in a jovial manner as he lifted the robed stranger under the arms with surprising ease. He made to lead the man back to their table. "My apologies, my friend. He can't handle his liquor." The man smiled at Murdoch appeasingly. He was handsome of face, with strong, masculine features and large, friendly blue eyes. His golden hair was cut long, coming to rest between his shoulder blades. He was dressed in a long sleeved green tunic over which he wore a short sleeved brown jacket embroidered with a red dragon motif, the crest of some noble family perhaps.

"I was only asking him about his companion." The robed man tried to turn back and scramble past his friend. "And I am still perfectly- perfectly-" He fought back a hiccup. "Sober."

At first Murdoch had been reluctant to even look at the man's face, but he had stared right into the eyes of the man when he had been asked about his bird. He hadn't wanted to answer the question, since he had been approached on many earlier occasions, where someone had wished to purchase the animal. This mostly happened when he stumbled upon someone who thought that it was a rare creature, when in all, it was very common. Or, it was for those who had grown up in the same area as Murdoch.

But now, as the young man stared at the other person who had now spoken to him, he had fallen completely silent. Murdoch had simply never seen a man of that height before. "No need to apologise." He then finally managed to say, and then a slight smile soon followed the words, and then a nod of his head. Mostly meant as a polite greeting, and perhaps a little admiration. "He looks like he's not the only one, after all." Murdoch then continued, at a lack of anything else to say.

And he didn't need to say much more, for his bird's interest had been peeked by the two men. Slowly and carefully, the creature crawled from Murdoch's shoulder, and down onto the table, where it came to a stop. It stood for a few seconds, just watching them, and then finally made a low chirping noise one wouldn't expect to hear from it. It held it's head quite low, and if looking closer, it was obvious that the creature was smelling the air, picking up scents as it had before, only now, it was more focused. Murdoch hushed at it, wanting it to keep a low profile.

"Let me go you oaf!" Vincent struggled in Caim's arms, his legs kicking and wheeling and his arms thrashing about as his friend manhandled him away from Murdoch.

"True enough." The large man, Caim replied to Murdoch, casting a glance around at the other patrons, none of whom were taking a blind bit of notice of Vincent's behaviour. "Again, my apologies." He laughed, a low, soft chuckle that seemed to resonate with strength. He lifted the smaller man up over his shoulder as easily as one would lift a sack of potatoes and extended his free hand in greeting to Murdoch. "My name is Caim Pendragon and this argumentative drunk here..." He thumbed over his shoulder to Vincent, who was struggling like a small child in its father's arms. "Is Vincent de Fanel. Allow me to buy you a drink. What are you having?"

On the other side of the room, a small crowd had gathered. One of the barmaids, a pretty girl clothed in a simple dress with wine stains, was standing among them. She looked expectantly at a young man with raven black hair. "Are you saying you've learned magic aboard the ship of a Hiranoh?" Rohin gave her a little nod. Very impressed, she poured him another drink. A bearded man, who clearly wasn't as drunk as most of the customers, snorted. "Yeah right. He only tries to make the story more interesting." Rohin gave the man an offended look and responded, "Tries? I'm telling you sir, it's the truth! Do you think I learned this by sitting in a tree?" At that moment, a sound came from the feet of the bearded man. They were suddenly covered in a green light, glowing like the tail of a firefly. The man gasped, "But this is..." Rohin looked at him. "Now, this is what the Hiranoh would call a Glowing Statue. It's a type of magic that slowly engulfs the entire target into this green light, making him a walking light source." The bearded man looked as if he was about to faint. Rohin smiled and with a little flick of his hand the green light disappeared. He winked at the barmaid. "Very useful if you run out of candles." The crowd laughed while the man looked embarrassed. "You can stay here for free tonight if you can show us more magic like that," the barmaid said excitingly to Rohin. He bowed his head appreciatively.

Of course, the bearded man was right. Rohin had never been near to a Hiranoh ship. It's just one of his fabricated tales to make people believe he's a magician. Using these simple tricks on the common man was easy. As most of them had never seen magic, they hardly knew how it looked like. Anything unexpected that would glow, become warm or make a noise was easily mistaken for real magic. Rohin couldn't resist a smile. The so-called 'Glowing Statue' was only some special dust he bought from a trader from Sheng. After it made contact with something, it would only glow for 15 seconds before disappearing into the air.

Continuing to entertain the people, Rohin kept a watchful eye on two persons approaching a silver haired man and a bird.

"Murdoch Olltha." He quickly responded as he reached his hand out to the stranger, who was no longer a stranger. "Nice to me--" Before he could say anything more, the bird flapped it's wings lightly, and crawled onto Caim's hand. It continued up his arm for a little, before Murdoch's hands closed around the creature. "Don't crawl on people!" He said, his word directed at the bird in his hands. He held it tight, knowing that it only allowed him to do that because it saw his as it's master. Otherwise, it would fight with all it had. "Please excuse her..." Murdoch said as he leaned back a little. "You must smell like you taste good."

He didn't know why had felt like adding that last bit of information, but now that he had said it, there was no going back. He lowered his head a little, and then looked up again with a smile. "But... A pint of mead wouldn't be out of the way." He then said, as he placed the bird back on his shoulder, and in doing so, noticed a little group of people across the room. Someone over there had to be entertaining.

Caim's face displayed his surprise when the bird climbed onto his hand before settling into an amused smile when he saw the creature meant no harm. He let it continue its climb up to his shoulder unobstructed, turning his attention back to Murdoch.

"Mead it is!" Caim cheered enthusiastically, slapping the young man on the back warmly before raising his hand to signal one of the serving girls.

Vincent meanwhile had witnessed the young man's 'magic' in the corner and frowned.

"Magic my ass!" He called out, finally wresting himself from his large friend's grip and clambering down to his fet over Caim's shoulder. "That was no magic. T'was but a mere performer's trick." He dusted himself off, smoothing the folds of his robes and tugging on the collar before striding over to Rohin with his unstable gait. "Tell me, these Hiranoh, did they teach you any more 'magic'?" He asked, swaying cockily on his feet and gesticulating wildly with his hands.

Caim let out a sigh and rolled his eyes as he turned to watch his friend. "Oh not again." He groaned, running a hand across his brow. He sat himself down beside Murdoch and leant back in the chair. "And it was such a peaceful night."

Murdoch dared to laugh at Caim's words, looking over at Vincent, whom Murdoch was afraid, had reached that stage of being drunk, where one just magically became more wise than anyone else. Sure it wasn't really his business what Vincent said to the other guests, but still, he had seen quite a lot of men getting into fights because of their words. Thinking that since Caim seemed to not be worried, there was no reason to worry. After all, they seemed like friends, so he had to assume that Caim knew how Vincent acted.

"I hardly think they have peaceful nights here." Murdoch said, sounding almost like the comment was meant to be taken seriously. He was however a little too busy to think about conversation, as his bird obviously had taken a liking to Caim. Murdoch caught it's head between his fingers as it tried to once more crawl onto the man, and forced it to look at him as he spoke to it. It was a series of low noises, a good imitation of the birds own language, but whatever it was he said to the creature, it worked. It settled on the table in front of them, looking from one to the other with dark shiny eyes. He then once more glanced over to Vincent, wondering why he was talking about magic.

"Does Vincent know a lot... About magic, I mean?" He then asked.

Rohin examined the drunk man's face. A pair of small round glasses sat on a long hooked nose, almost hiding his dark eyes. His facial hair was well kept, according to the latest fashion, but it gave the man an almost comedic appearance. Almost, since this face belonged to somebody of a higher status then most of the customers. And the man was obviously no fool when it came to magic, although his drunk state affected his ability to think properly. Rohin had to think fast.

The barmaid glanced nervously at Vincent. "Watch what you say, sir. I don't think you want to make the magician angry." Rohin managed a broad grin. "Ah, somebody else who doubts my stories. I can guarantee you, they are true." He quickly pulled open his bag with one of his hand, unnoticed by the audience. "To answer your question, yes, the Hiranoh taught me some other things as well. But that magic is too dangerous to perform in a lovely tavern like this." With his fingers, he found what he was looking for, and hid it carefully in his hand.

"I can show you something else though, if you're willing. A very nice old lady living near a beautiful lake in Suitania taught me this."

"You could say that..." Caim smiled at Murdoch's question as he continued to watch the altercation. He half turned to look at the man and leant an ear towards him, keeping an eye on Vincent the whole while. "That's quite the talent you have there." He uttered. "Talking to beasts I mean. Is it something anyone can learn?"

Vincent meanwhile continued to taunt Rohin with obviously feigned enthusiasm.

"Oh I would love to. I simply must see what trick you'll pull out of your sleeve next. Some doves perhaps? Or maybe some fire? People always love fire." He rambled on, leaning his head back in exasperation.

Murdoch looked at Caim for a few seconds, carefully selecting his words before speaking. "That depends. Everyone in my family can do it, but a lot of others can't. Have you ever tried?" He then asked. He wouldn't want to say too much about it, since he had meant to just speak to the bird without making a fuss out of it. "Most people haven't tried, so they never know if they can talk to beasts. I've just grown up doing it. It's common where I come from." Murdoch then explained, actually just saying what came to mind, since he was a bit sensitive about the subject.

He then glanced over at Vincent again, while the bird rested it's head on his hand, still looking from person to person.

The black cloak Erwein wore made him blend in with the shadowy portions of the tavern. His cloak was fully wrapped about his person, the only thing showing were the pair of bright yellow eyes, constantly watching the rest of the patrons. Adding to his stealth was the fact that he sat in the rafters of the tavern, one of the sturdy wooden ceiling beams holding his weight quite well. The fabric of his cloak hung down towards the patrons below, he had considered folding it up, but the rest of his garb wasn't tailored to blend with the darkness.

He was here on a hit, tonight. His employer, a trader that came from Salis, wanted his competitor in the trade business dead. Claimed it'd boost his business. The trade sealed his end of the deal by offering Erwein a cut of his next profit if the hit came through. The only lead the trade had given him was that the competitor in question was a regular at this tavern. The trader had told him his competitor would be wearing some sort of cape or cloak, as well as a decorative weapon. Other than that, everything else about this "competitor" was vague.

He sat still, eyes darting about the tavern, taking note of anyone that had a cloak/cape+weapon combo on their person. So far, only one person had piqued his interest. That man was named Murdoch, though the large tube-like thing on his arm definitely didn't count as a decorative weapon. No cloak either. The bird on his shoulder only told him that the man was a hunter, not a trader. Still, best to keep an eye on him.

Across the room, a small crowd had gathered around the entertainer known as Rohin. He kept an eye on that crowd, not doubting for a minute that the young man could and would keep a group of people entertained. Watching, waiting, that was what he was trained in.

His hand tightened its grip around a pouch on his belt. It contained several needles coated in the blood of a Demos tunnel worm. Highly toxic, the poison acted as a neurotoxin, instantly paralysing and causing death within seconds. He was very careful not to touch the needles in any way other than with gloves, as the poison could seep through your pores and into your bloodstream.

Then, a break. A caped man, a decorative saber by his side, entered the tavern. Erwein kept an eye on the man, when he reached the bar, the barkeep nigh-instantly recognised and welcomed the man.

Three out of three...a regular, cape, weapon...has to be him...

Killing him would be simple. From his perch, he could, in a variety of ways, use his poisoned needles to kill him off. Not too hasty, though. He had to positively identify this man as his target. Offing a random trader or passer-by was not something looked up to in the ways of assassins and mercenaries, though most wouldn't care less. He liked to be careful, though. No loose ends to take care of.

The lights of the small tavern slowly grew on the horizon as Osefi approached. Like a lighthouse for weary travelers the warm glow of the hearth called out to the gargantuan orc. It had been many days since his old hide had felt the touch of a soft bed and a freshly prepared batch of deep fried Malumets. Just the thought of the golden buttery rodents slathered in hot pepper sauce was enough to make the aging warrior drool in anticipation. Sounds of merriment reached Osefi's ears as the flickering orange lights grew, just ahead of him a cloaked man climbed the stairs to the entrance of The Rolling Head, an elaborate saber on his side. Whoever this man was, he was clearly important, as he had several guards with him. Though none wore full armor or sported particularly menacing weapons, the battle-wise orc knew mercs when he saw them.

It was then the man glanced over his shoulder, spotting the massive figure approaching behind him, causing a worried double take. Osefi did little to acknowledge the man other than give him a soft nod. Seemingly satisfied that Osefi wasn't an immediate threat the man turned back to his posse and gestured for them to watch the unexpected visitor. To say Osefi was used to such treatment would be a painful understatement. Due to the differences in culture, Orcs were thought of as brainless savages, assumed to be up to no good regardless of their true intentions. It mattered little to Osefi, a dozen knights would be little threat to an orc of his size, let alone a few underpaid and under equipped mercenaries.

The cloaked man entered just ahead of Osefi, whom, due to his girth had to crouch and wiggle a little bit to properly fit through the door. Amid a few surprised gasps from other patrons Osefi managed to fit his full bulk through the threshold. It took the suspicious man only a moment to stride toward the bar and strike up a conversation with the barkeep. From his vantage point, standing well above the rest of the crowd, it was obvious the bartender knew the man.

Movement just above the crown of his head drew Osefi's attention to the rafters. There was certainly something up there. He let his eyes linger only a moment on the darkness above before scanning the room. Nobody else seemed aware of the presence of this shadowy entity, which Osefi took to mean it was of little importance.

Still, better to be vigilant. With that he took the nearest empty bench, nearly covering its entire length with his immense posterior. Despite being made from quality wood, the sheer weight of its new occupant caused the seat to sag slightly in the middle though it groaned in protest for only a moment. All thoughts of a nice bed and fried Malumets went out the window as the savvy orc began to watch the other patrons, making sure he stayed watching the rafters from his peripherals.

"Hmmm. I suppose I'd never thought to try." Caim admitted, stroking his chin as he looked at the bird. He fixed his eyes on the bird and leant close in as though he were to whisper intimately to a lover. He sat there for a moment, simply gazing into its eyes. He issued a series low utterances, imitating the bird's noises and Murdoch's own interpretation as best he could. He waited for a response, but the creature just seemed to look back at him blankly. Caim rocked back in his seat, before letting out a rumbling chuckle.

"Well I guess I don't have the gift of the silver tongue like you do." He lifted his tankard to his mouth, swallowing a large mouthful of the frothy ale.

Gilly hurriedly tottered towards the Rolling Head tavern, her footsteps slightly more offbeat than usual as she did her best to brush off the worst of the mud that was smeared down her front, whilst giving the odd glance towards her surroundings. Vague and irritated mumblings about stray animals escaped her lips as she neared the establishment, removing the worst of the muck from her clothing, but unfortunately covering her hands in it. Not that it mattered terribly much at the moment, she was already pretty filthy from the seemingly endless days of traveling she had done. First things first though, a good drink.

She went practically unnoticed as she shuffled inside the tavern, doing her best to avoid being jostled back and forth too much. It was difficult though, there was a real crowd tonight. Most of them drunk and not particularly paying attention to where they were going. Some would give a quick apology for knocking into her, others would just go on, jolly as ever. It didn't particularly matter to her though, she was used to it in places like these. After finally managing to sift through the sea of people, she arrived at an empty table and perched herself on one of the chairs, relieved to finally have taken the weight off her feet.

Dumping her traveling sack on the floor next to the chair with a surprisingly loud clatter, she leaned back, letting out a sigh and soaking in the atmosphere of the tavern. This place sure was popular, there was all kinds of people and the serving girls milled back and forth constantly, doing their best to keep up with the workload. It made her happy to hear voices and laughter again though, she had spent far too long traveling with no company as of late. Her thoughts eventually trickled back to the drink that she had initially come in here for.

She hopped up onto the table from her chair for a better vantage point and surveyed the room, contemplating the best way to go about getting service. She doubted she would be able to get a serving girls attention amidst the rabble, and the complications of approaching the bar when you can barely even see over the top of it was a problem she would rather spare herself. Her thoughts drifted away as she became more interested in the goings-on of the tavern.

The young man gathering a lot of attention. The other man with the strange contraption on his arm. The giant of an Orc. If she'd known this place was so interesting, she would have come sooner!

More guards...mercenaries, just like me...hopefully they're not White Storm...

Erwein continued to watch the caped man from the rafters, vaguely aware of someone noticing his presence before shaking it off as nothing. His mark, or at least, he hoped it was his mark, sat down at the bar, his guards taking up seemingly non-chalant positions around him, covering any avenues of attack. Clearly his hired help was trained as well, unlike most nobles who simply hired men off the street, giving them a sword, some gold and saying 'Please protect me.' He'd killed many a mark who had hired help like that. One glance of the black-cloaked Demis, armed with his daggers, was already enough to send the man on the street running for safety.

A gloved hand reached into the pouch on his belt, withdrawing a poisoned needle. Having only heard of the deadly reputation of Demos tunnel worm blood, this was going to be his first chance to try it out. Beside him, a rat was nosing at his boot, unaware that the figure wasn't a statue at all. In a flash, the rat was in his other hand, fingers clamping over its mouth to stop it from squeaking audibly. He took the needle and plunged it into the rat, withdrawing it after a second. He placed it back on the rafter, watching it intently. The rat pawed at its wound, before suddenly stiffening and falling over, breathing in short breaths, then expiring.

Erwein smiled, leaving the dead rat where it was. At least he now knew the potency of his new poison. He continued to watch the caped man, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Murdoch smiled and nodded his head at Caim's words. "But what is your gift then?" he asked, not knowing why he was interested, or even had talked so much with this man already. Was it the lack of company he had experienced over the last couple of days, or was it just that he was happy that someone had taken an interest in the bird, and not Murdoch himself. He supposed that as long as they weren't talking about him, he was fairly talkative. Or at the very least, he could ask questions. "What do you do for a living? You don't really look like the average farmer from around here." Murdoch then continued, having lowered his voice a little.

Then, almost by coincidence, he looked up, and something caught his eye. "Oh god." He muttered. Staring blankly at what he had just discovered. A wide smile suddenly appeared on his face, and his eyes were now almost shining. "It's a orc!" He said, looking like he was about to jump over to the huge being. "I've never seen an orc before! Do you think it'll eat my head if I try to touch it?" Was his next question.

Rohin deliberately rolled his eyes. "Doves and fire? What do you think I am? Some sort of cheap trickster?" Knowing what the answer would be to that, he quickly continued. "No, this will become an experience of a lifetime, sir" Putting emphasis on the last word, he calculated the weak points in the man's body. The object in his own hand was one of his poisonous darts. Normally he would use them with his blowpipe, but that wasn't possible this time. But there were other ways.

Rohin earlier noticed that the man wasn't without company in this tavern, so he knew he couldn't do anything too drastic. No, the type of poison he would use this time was simply something that enhanced the man's senses and would put him into a state of bliss. The alcohol in his body only made this effect greater and prevented that the man would feel the dart entering at all. It wasn't harmful and the effect wouldn't last long, but if Rohin played it right, he could make it appear as if he had put some sort of spell on the man.

"Would you be so kind to lay down you hands on the table?" While he asked this, he noticed that the tavern had become more crowded.

Alyss walked halfway down the stairs and froze. Her eyes staring in utter awe at the gigantic orc. It had o be the biggest orc she had ever seen! Instinctively her hand moved towards her sword but she forced herself to stop. An average size Orc could handle four heavily armored knights without a problem and one so huge could probably handle a dozen. Alyss was one Knight and the elegant gown she wore would provide little to no protection against such an indomitable opponent. Course if the giant did decide to go violent the code dictated that she try to stop him. For the first time in a while she wished she wasn't a knight.

Alyss slowly proceeded down the stairs and into the multitude of drunks and other people in the tavern. The people bumped into her every now and then and she bumped into some of them. Alyss took note of how few dared to apologize and pushed on. Sooner or later she found an empty seat near two men who were chatting away. One who had some kind of bird on his shoulder. Probably a pet he bought at some market, she thought.

Alyss did not know anyone here or at least not yet and uot of boredom she began to eavesdrop on the two gentlemen. "Your not really going to touch the giant orc are you?", she asked and immediately became concerned as well as interested in their conversation.

All it took was a second flash of movement to erase any doubt in Osefi's mind. There was something up above. Though he was still unsure just what it was. Perhaps only a house cat in the rafters looking for mice. But his gut told him otherwise, in fact the longer he had sat in this tavern the more the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. There was electricity in the air, something was about to happen, something big.

His thoughts were interrupted by a woman stepping down the stairs, the whites of her eyes glistening intently in the fires light as they locked with his own. Her hand absentmindedly grabbed the hilt of their sword as her eyes widened ever so slightly. It was clear she was some sort of militrary, as her back was rigidly upright and her shoulders held back professionally, even the embroidery on her gown indicated she was no simple peasant. He thought fondly of his younger years, when such a confrontational action might have driven him into a frenzied rage. Despite himself, a wide broken toothed grin spread over his face.

"Squishy creatures are so strange." he muttered under his breath. In a voice that sounded like two boulders grinding together.

The knight, or at least, the woman Osefi assumed to be a knight of some kind, approached another pair of men. More knights? Unlikely. Though one of them was quite large, for a human. The second man had a small reptilian bird, a common sight in the lands to the south, but here, so close to Northwall? The strange device on his arm gave no clues where the strange white haired man was from. The woman's mouth moved, her concerned eyes darting from her two companions and Osefi himself.

It took Osefi several brain raking moments to decide the best course of action to take what with all the easily frightened potential foes around. He finally lifted a single massive hand and waved it weakly, the hints of the grin before still lingering on his face. It was something he had picked up on during his many years traveling, his last master, a kindly old halfling, had been instrumental in helping Osefi understand the squishy way of life. A simply wave was enough to put most suspicious humans at ease, especially when coupled with a smile.

Why such an act worked, the orc still didn't know, but that didn't matter. His eyes danced across the three humans one last time before he made his next move...

Pointing knowingly up into the rafters.

Murdoch's attention was suddenly moved to a woman who had sat down near them, and then talked to Murdoch. For a moment, he lost track of his thoughts and the conversation he'd been having with Caim. Slowly, he looked from the woman to the orc, as if her question had made him actually consider not doing it. "Why?" He asked back. "You think he's gonna eat me?" He tilted his head slightly as the orc suddenly smiled, and waved at them.

It took Murdoch one second to completely make up his mind.

"He looks nice!" He exclaimed in a low voice, and eagerly waved back. Or, that was until he noticed that the orc was now pointing upwards. He felt how his bird climbed on top of his head as he glanced up, but he didn't see anything. For him, who had grown up bathed in sunlight, there didn't have to be much darkness for him to see nothing. He just figured that it was some sort of orc thing. Perhaps. Or was it a threat? Was that a sign that the guy had ten friends outside who were all hungry? That thought brought another with it.

"Do orcs even eat humans? Let alone my kind? .... Nah.... Should take the chance, right?"

And then, he waved once more, this time differently from before. This was more of a 'come here' wave.

Vincent, filled with the irresponsible bravado that only excessive drinking can cause eagerly placed his hand on the table. He was certain this man was no magician and never considered the possibility that this could go badly for him. He locked eyes with Rohin as best he could, challenging him with his gaze and now lopsided smirk. Even with his hand braced agaisnt the table he swayed uneasily on his feet.

Caim was about to respond to Murdoch's odd question when they were approached by the woman.

"I for one would be interested in seeing you try." He grinned before adding "I want to see what happens." He watched the huge orc from a distance. The creature seemed docile enough and even pleasent considering the manner in which it was waving at them. He couldn't detect even a hint of hostility. Caim glanced briefly at Vincent to make sure he wasn't getting into anything he couldn't handle.

As he looked back at the Orc he caught it's gesture towards the rafters and peered up without thinking, staring intently into the darkness as his eyes asjusted to the dark. There was something up there. Something large infact. Caim puzzled over the shape, not being able to recognise it as anything familiar. Though the thought of something that large hiding unseen worried him slightly. He surreptitiously lowered his gaze so as not to be so obvious.

Alyss smiled a bit and waved back. " You do have a point... What is he pointing at?". Alyss said as she too began to scan the rafters. Time and time again her eyes searched but she saw nothing. Since she saw no immediate threat she did not worry about it. Typical Knight behavior: If it isn't an obivous threat it isn't a threat at all. The only thing that would convince her other wise would be if she heard noise from up above in the rafters and with these many chatting drunks that'd be unlikely.

Convinced that there was nothing up in the rafters, she looked to the man with the bird on his shoulder, who was waving the Orc to come over. This should be an interesting experience... She thought. "So you gentlemen have names? Mine is Alyss de Sacrier.". Alyss was smiling now her eyes looking over at the bird. "What's the birds name?".

Rohin placed his hands over Vincent's hand, carefully preventing that the dart didn't touch the man. Rohin could see that Vincent tried to give him a challenging look, which would have worked if he was still sober. Rohin stared at him intensively and counted five seconds in his head. Then he closed his eyes and started to whisper an incantation. Nobody could hear what he was saying, and the crowd leaned closer. But even if somebody had put his ear next to Rohin's mouth, they still wouldn't have heard anything, since he wasn't actually saying anything. Knowing that Vincent had a bit of understanding of magic, he couldn't risk that the man heard an incantation that was just made up. Real magicians whispered sometimes to, Rohin knew, so it wasn't a strange thing to do.

As he was whispering, he slowly lowered the dart in one of his hands, the sharp point touching Vincent's skin. The man gave no physical reaction, indicating that he hadn't felt it. Rohin then quickly gave the dart a little push, entering the man's bloodstream and releasing the poison. Abruptly, Rohin lifted his hands, taking the dart with him, and opened his eyes. Looking at Vincent, he knew the man hadn't felt anything. And the point of the dart was so small that it wouldn't leave any blood. He quickly muffled away his tool while the crowd was watching Vincent, wondering what just happened. Rohin smiled. Only a couple more seconds before the poison would take effect.

Still celebrating his little victory in his mind, he noticed a giant orc occupying an entire bench. Rohin had seen and met orcs before, but never as big as this one. The orc was pointing to something. Looking up, he saw the rafters of the inn. A perfect hiding place. Something was about to happen, and Rohin felt a sudden urge to pull away from the crowd and to hide in the shadows.