Guanicus brings the lot of you into the guild house, smiling to himself, eyes glassy as he navigates through the tiny hallways narrow stairways. From the outside, the place doesn't look like it could house a peat farmer, but somehow, you've been walking for almost five minutes, and nothing seems at all familiar. In fact, the deeper you go, the older things seem; not just the building materials seem old and worn, but the very style of the banisters, the trim, and the torch brackets on the walls.

As expected, when you first entered the house, the thick stench of decay and methane, sickly sweet and pungently organic, was all you could smell. Even the garlic tainted breath of your host, Guanicus, was completely overwhelmed by it, and you were almost certain you could actually see green wisps of the death stench waft in through the window. Every single window, as you looked around, was as wide open as could be. Before you could ask your questions, the mad magician circled his hands through the air. "Keep the air flowing." he said, matter-of-factly, and continued leading you deeper in.

Within the bowels, surely somewhere beneath the swamp by now, in danger of its putrid goo collapsing en masse atop your head, you smelled nothing of the marshes. Instead, the smells of something much older, something ancient, occasionally stirred long enough to grace you with their aroma. You realize that the wood had long since been replaced with various forms of stone, and the shelves along the walls aren't covered with books, but with...bones. It's then that you realize you are in a crypt, long forgotten by probably everyone save for Guanicus himself.

Walking through one last doorway, the flickering torchlight is replaced with a steady, ambient light. Soothing, peaceful light. The smell is gone, as is the stone, replaced by a massive library, complete with lush, overstuffed chairs upholstered with the butter soft skin of baby cows. The walls are adorned with massive paintings, some of stunning vistas of dragons assaulting castles, others of a less fantastical, but still attention grabbing portrayals of women writhing like snakes in the throes of apparent ecstasy. The large chair that Guanicus moves to sit in is actually a huge stuffed polar bear, and the enormous desk in front of him takes your breath away more than anything else in the room; A slab of crystal over an inch thick is held squarely aloft by the smooth flat stomachs of four stunning, naked mermaids, their hands and fins on the ground as they form a bridge, full breasts framing the corners of the crystal superbly.

As if nothing in his study mattered, Guanicus the Mad sat and motioned for each to do the same. No two chairs were alike, and there were exactly seven.

The first was composed of a dryad, a female spirit of nature, made of wood and plant. She lay upon her back, her buttocks resting on a small wedge of wood, her legs curved back over her torso, calves pointing straight up to the sky. The backs of her thighs are the seat, soft calves serving to support the back of whoever would sit upon her.

The second was the largest boa constrictor you've probably ever seen. It lay in a 'U' shape, curling back upon itself several times, each tier building higher than the last, offering a seat, back support, and arm rests. Its head serves as the foot step to simplify getting into or out of the miniature throne.

The third was a spider, also lying on its back. The back four legs came together for the back support, while the front two on each side rested side by side as a grooved arm rest. Its hard carapace is cold to the touch for whoever would dare sit there.

The fourth is a young Minotaur, bent over so that his horns would be its user’s footrest, and his massive hands will hold the user at whatever angle the user desires.

The fifth, initially, seems less remarkable than the others, though certainly is visually stunning, for it seems to be carved from pure obsidian. A snap from Guanicus' finger, however, and the Deep Earth elemental opens its eyes, points of even darker light that burn with hatred at this trivial and mundane service.

The sixth chair is a chimera, the center head the seat and the other two serving as the arm rests. Thick muzzles of silk and magic wrap one of the heads almost completely, but the other two seem docile enough.

The seventh chair seems almost incorporeal, a shadowy substance that seems harder to see the more directly one looks at it. It is, in fact, a creature of the Plane of Shadow. It simply sits cross-legged on the ground, its lap the seat, its arms the arm rest.

Guanicus, again as if nothing in the room mattered, as if he expected all of you to have seen all of it before, sighs. "Whenever you're done staring, please pick the seat you think best suits you. With no blood shed. Should someone get there before you, suck it up and pick another." He waves his hand and cracks open the ancient-looking tome that rests upon his desk, finds his page, and idly strokes the breast of one of the mermaids nearest to him.

Redjack screwed up his nose and waved away the last of the lingering stench of swamp gas with his hand. I've lived in this city my whole life and it never gets less disgusting. I suspect foul play. Making a smell perpetually annoying would be a petty use of magic, but knowing the people here I would not be surprised. Redjack glared at Guanicus for a moment. Redjack had dealt with many crazy people in his life, particularly in prison, and Guanicus resembled the people who were locked in the stone rooms in the basement and fed through trapdoors. Not as dangerous as the guy with skin made of scar tissue who could tear the bars off the windows and fashion it into a shiv with his teeth, but deeply unsettling. Tuning out the screaming was the worst part. Redjack needed his beauty sleep. Ah well, I've had worse employers. Like that guy with the missing fingers and the very bad information. Feeding that man his own intestines and searching his pockets was the most satisfying part of that job. Letting the pleasant memories of bloodshed and revenge drift away on the ethereal wind of nostalgia, Redjack turned his mind to more important pursuits.

Where do I sit? The dryad is attractive, certainly, but it lacks style...and nature elementals are so spiteful. thought Redjack. Images of poisoned thorns shooting out of the chair and into his tender skin quickly disabused any notion of sitting in the dryad chair. Redjack's gaze skipped over the next three chairs for the same reason. Boa constrictor? Death by strangulation. Spider? Death by poisonous bite. Minotaur? Death by being dispersed into a fine red mist on the ground. His gaze lingered on the clearly furious earth elemental, and Redjack considered sitting down and really digging his ass in before he decided he had enough enemies. Chimera? Please. That thing is a death trap! Anyone who sits there deserves being bitten into a few separate pieces. Being drawn and trisected by a chimera is not how I want to die. Redjack's gaze settled on the last chair. He grinned almost imperceptibly and plopped into the shadow-thing's lap. He glanced over his shoulder at the incorporeal face behind him and said, "I imagine you and I will get along well. We both seem to appreciate the darkness. I shall call you...Shady Samuel." Redjack turned his gaze to the wizard and waited for him to speak, occasionally darting suspicious glances at the other inhabitants of the room.

Scarlet bounced along as Guanicus led the crew into the guild house, her face twisting at each fowl stench. Her fingers twirled through her blonde locks as she began turning in every direction, mouth agape, to examine their surrounding. She paused in front of a skull lying upon one of the bookshelves and grinned for a moment, noting to herself that without flesh, most people appeared to smiling. It was a novel idea to her.

Realizing their old leader was continuing, she quickly skipped to catch the caboose of the group. She hummed gleefully to herself, not bothering to acknowledge any of her companions. She was in her own world of wonders here, even with the stench. Discreetly, she sniffed herself to be positive she had washed throughly enough and wasn't omitting the odor herself.

Soon enough, they reached the doorway into the study and Scarlet's happy grin grew. Her eyes went up to the paintings immediately, smile turning to a look of vague confusion as she tried to understand exactly what was happening within each canvas. Giving up on her art analysis, her next interest was Guanicus' big polar bear chair. She cautiously approached, poking the frozen muzzle and muttering something about it's sharp teeth to herself. When she glanced down and realized the old man had sat in the big bear's lap, she backed away and turned to the seven chairs.

"This one is pretty!" She exclaimed, rushing to chimera chair and running her hands over the silk muzzle. She plopped down, rocking back and forth contently. As Redjack spoke, her brilliant blue eyes shot up to him.

"Do I get a nickname?" She asked eagerly as her fingers absentmindedly traced the mouth of the goat head. Her gaze darted down as she swore she felt the mouth try to close around her fingertips and she quickly moved her hands to her lap.

Annalee was no fan of the smell of this place, and she instantly began to regret her decision to go along with her family's wishes. Her family may have been a family of assassins, but at least they were clean. She followed Guanicus into his study, and stared in fascination at the different chairs. I have to sit on one of these? She crinkled her nose in a disapproving frown. So many options, and yet I want none of them.

This must be some sort of test, she reasoned. But what is he trying to figure out? Well, whatever the case, I will definitely stay far away from whomever picks that chair. She was looking at the first chair, the dryad. How crass and uncouth.

Annalee decided to pick the spider. She wasn't too excited about the chair, since it looked sort of scratchy and uncomfortable to sit on, but she rather liked spiders. Always had. As a child, Annalee had not had many friends, which is the sort of social shunning that inevitably happens when all of your family members are well-known murderers. She also never had a dog or cat because they were deemed too messy. Therefore, Annalee had spent most of her time playing with the spiders in the yard. She quite liked spiders. They were cute. They never lectured you about your shuriken-throwing or asked you to kill the nice old man down the street, unlike certain people in her family.

Annalee took a seat on the spider. "Excuse me," she said, reflexively, feeling bad for sitting on another creature. Then she blushed, feeling embarrassed that she had just apologized to her seat. Surely this room of ruffians had already judged her as weak and foolish.

The first thing Christopher did upon arrival was to size up his teammates. Particularly the female ones.
He would have to figure out how he could hook up with them later. For now, he had business to attend to.
He jotted down notes continually as they passed through the complex, making sure he kept track of how they came in. One never knew when one might need to know something, and kick themselves for not writing it down.
Upon reaching the crypt, he spotted a partcularly well-shaped, well-bleached bone and deftly snatched it and stowed it away in his pack.

This place sure was expensive. The sheer decadence of living chairs made Christopher rather uncomfortable. It seemed to him to be a disaster waiting to happen, and disaster rarely waited for long. He guessed he would see this place collapsing in a torrent of wind and fire before the end of this business. Or maybe not. He idly wondered if Guanicus would try to doublecross him after all this was done. It wouldn't be the first time. Or perhaps Guanicus would end up dying immediately after getting them just involved deeply enough in some kind of trouble that they wouldn't be able to escape or talk their way out of it, but before being able to set them up with any kind of preparation for such trouble. He'd been through that a couple times, too.

He slipped into the elemental seat next to Scarlet, and crossed his fingers that the other woman would take the seat on his other side.

Finding a place to stay following his forced removal from his parents’ manor had been very difficult for Kier Mon Duvell. His many supposed “friends” had cut off contact the moment Kier was cut off from his generous allowance. He wasn’t particularly bothered by this- he would have done the same in their place. In any case, as a result of abruptly finding himself with no money and no friends, he had been forced to seduce women of varying attractiveness and marital status to let him stay the night, every night following his eviction. That was about seven or eight fair and not-so-fair maidens, and Kier was growing tired of playing the charming gentleman. Besides, the best maiden-picking times were in the afternoon, which meant that Kier was unable to take any dust all afternoon or all evening. He was beginning to get night jitters, but there was nothing to be done for it. Just a smidgeon of dust almost rendered him almost incapable of keeping a straight face, and Kier needed control of his face for his smouldering seductive stares.
Otherwise he’d have to sleep out in the streets or marshes, and that just seemed awful and uncomfortable. Added to that, he would probably starve- he’d been stealing his meals from the kitchens of his feminine conquests.

And today was his first day of guild life. The foul smell of the guild house was successfully blocked by the dash of fairy dust lingering in his nostrils. Kier supposed it would be interesting to earn something for himself, after having worked for a grand total of 7 or 8 days in his life. Kier was counting his recent seductions in that final tally. And why not? It sort of felt like work. Sort of like being a prostitute, almost.

Kier paused behind the rest of the group in the guild house, pondering. Was he a prostitute? No. Then he would have been paid. Actually, getting paid sounded pretty good right about now- why hadn’t he been a prostitute? Maybe that wasn’t right. The fairy dust was kicking in and his mind was beginning to feel a bit floofy. He hadn’t taken too much- just enough to take the edge off life, but not enough for him to, say, go and chop a limb off of his future employer.

And speaking of his employer...Guanicus seemed decent enough. Within a few seconds of the dust really hitting his brain, Kier concluded that he liked the man, and he liked his robes. Good robes, good man! He barely held back a giggle.

Kier was accustomed to finery, but the fantastic furnishings of Guanicus’s final room were more impressive than anything in Kier’s former manor home. His mother certainly wouldn’t have allowed that desk. Ah, and he got to choose his own chair! The rest of the group fanned out, and Kier headed straight for his pick of the litter. There was only one chair in the entire set that looked comfortable, and that was the Minotaur. It had a big fuzzy head, after all! He settled into the creature’s large hands, grinning to himself.

Saro kept his mouth in a line, as well as he could anyway. His Glasgow smile stretched taut on his face, and firelight giving it an eerie glow. His black robe covered his entire upper torso, which was crisscrossed with the scars of rituals. He inhaled deeply, smelling the musk of the old building. Striding across the floor, he sat down in the large boa constrictor. He stroked the head of the boa, letting it's tongue flick his hand. He clicked to the boa, and murmured to it.

"I shall call you Casir.", he said. A contented hiss followed his comment, as if the boa approved of his name.

Looking over the table at his fellow guildmates, he sized them up. Saro fingered his Glasgow scar, observing from the depths of his cowl. There were three men and two women, himself not included. For the majority of the people in the room, they kept to themselves, even though nobody was trying to talk to each other. Nothing moved, so he was content to sit and observe.

However, upon noticing a cut on his hand, which he had totally not felt, he used his powers slightly. A few drops of blood left the cut, making a small globe about the size of an eyeball. It spun over his hand, catching the light at odd angles. The constrictor raised its head, flicking its tongue at the blood. His smile stretched.

Redjack stared in surprise as the goat arm rest snapped its mouth shut a moment after Scarlet withdrew her hands to her lap. Am I sure this guild thing is worth- Did that goat just WINK at him? This guild thing is not worth it. Redjack shook thoughts of conspiratorial furniture from his mind and studied Scarlet for a moment. "You want a new nickname? I thought 'Hey, bitch!' was working so well! If I had to think of a new one, considering your..." He studied the three headed, only partially muzzled abomination of a sitting place Scarlet was seated in disapprovingly. "...Negligent taste in chairs, 'Bite Bait' seems fitting. Shady Samuel and I," began Redjack, trying to pat his chair on the shoulder and watching sadly as his hand passed through like the shadow elemental was water, trailing wisps of shade behind it, "are judging you. He's doing it silently because fortunately none of the furniture can talk, but judging you nonetheless!" Redjack chose not to focus on Scarlet's inevitable half-baked reply and instead study the other poor sods stuck in the room with the Menagerie of Malcontent Magic Chairs and a wizard who resembled a well dressed hobo.

He already knew Scarlet. Blonde, ditzy, energetic, occasionally suicidally curious, easily angered and able to kill you in interesting ways with nearly anything. Redjack liked Scarlet despite his hostile nature. 'Friend' may be a bit of a strong word, but 'acquaintance I trust enough not to stab me in the back' was fitting.

The second girl looked even less likely to be in a room full of criminals than Scarlet. She was surrounded by murderers and she looked positively bashful. Redjack was hesitant to file her away as not a threat, but he skipped on closer examination for now.

The human jotting down notes and glancing around with that analytical look in his eyes was trouble. Anyone who pays that much attention to things has reason to expect something bad to happen, and probably knew how to fight back too. Redjack would be keeping an eye on him.

The man with the armor and the big dopey grin bore the signs of being on something. Redjack couldn't quite place what, but anyone smiling like that in here was either crazy or doped up on something, and madmen's armor wasn't that damned shiny. Redjack would've placed him as wealthy, but no one with money would walk into this hellhole. Regardless, he seemed somewhat foppish and not terribly threatening.

This next fucker was creepy, and Redjack had seen the half-spider men in the swamp, so this was saying something. Something about the scars and the smile that would never come off. He's looking around too. Him and the other human have good reason to be- The man in black robes formed a blood globe, bright crimson swirling and flowing together into a small sphere. HOLY SHIT SWEET ELVEN GODS ABOVE WHAT IS THAhuh. Redjack didn't like blood magic. He preferred keeping his blood inside him, where it belonged, and he formed an instant dislike for the hemomancer.

Saro, still playing with his "blood marble" (as he called it), casually scanned the room. Truthfully, the atmosphere was quite enjoyable, especially the walk through. Crypts were no stranger to him, as most of his "art" took place inside their black innards. Libraries were his second-most favorite locations, as he considered them bastions against ignorance and stupidity. Scanning the massive wooden bookshelves, he noticed that not a single volume, tome, or book was covered in any hint of dust. Nice and clean. Good for working unannoyed., he thought happily. As he read some of the titles, he realized all the books were from every school of magic, even some of the "banned" arts. Well, Guanicus seems to have amassed quite the collection in his time. I like that in a man. With a stray thought, Saro flattened the "marble" into a disc and began to thread it between his fingers.

The one who called his chair "Shady Samuel" seemed to like to talk, although his language was rather coarse. He too was weighing the others in his mind, just like Saro was. As the elf's eyes settled on Saro and his marble, they widened and his face paled. Saro smiled, at least as well as he could.

"What's the matter? Afraid of a little blood?", asked Saro casually with a slightly mocking tone.

The others, for the moment, seemed to be immersed in observing their surroundings. He didn't care, he was content with the relative silence for now. Casir continued to watch the disc of blood, crimson tongue flicking the air occaisonally. This will get interesting.

(sorry its late, ran into a bit of trouble with my internet AV on my laptop, so I went offline to fix it.)

The morning had been.... different than most. The twilight before the day was when Zyler had risen. The crisp air of the morn worked to rejuvenate his body from the throes of sleep. In his left hand, a letter, containing the seal of the Ne'er-Do-Well Guild, accepting him as one of them. In his right hand, he held the hilt of his sword, which laid across his waist at a slight angle. Thin glasses covered the bottom of his eyes, and his coat, fanned out to catch the wind, drifted outward. Under his coat, he had two pistols one at both sides. The room he had stayed in was now as barren as it was when he had used it the night before. In front of the guild, a few others had already gathered, all with a similar letter that Zyler had. He calmly waited and was not left waiting for long. For the door was thrown open and an old man, presumably the NDW guild mage himself. After ushering them all in, the Mage guided them through the house.

The house was spectacular. At first, it had seemed to be an ordinary building, but as they went, it became clear that there was more to it. The place had the smell of death and spirits roamed about. The walls exuded a certain air that told him that they had seen their share of blood and gore, as well as other things as well. The building transitioned to being of recent structure, to being one of considerable age. The wood transitioned into sturdy stone, which then transitioned into rock so old, a single touch would draw pebbles from the wall. The mage guided them into a system of catacombs that seemed to go on and on.

Zyler respected age in a building. It was a testament to its builders. Whoever built this knew their stuff and was very skillful at his work. The stairs leading into the catacombs were natural stone, which was rare. The path seemed to lead under the swamp, the pressure was tangible for a bit , until it regulated. The torches added that authentic feel of a dungeon. Of the various shelves, some of them filled with decaying skeletons. The guild mage motioned them into a room, and beckoned them to sit. The first thing that caught Zyler's attention was the beautifully carved crystal table held by the nude mermaids. There were also seven chairs, aside from the one the mage sat in. Of the chairs, there was one for each. Caldus, better known as RedJack, took the shadow creature chair, Scarlet took the chimera, Annalee-the spider, Christopher- the elemental, Kier- the Minotaur, and finally Saro took the Boa. That leaves the Dryad. Zyler walked over to the lady and asked her permission to sit. The Dryad looked at him, her eyes curious. She nodded and relaxed enough to let him sit.

The room was an old library that seemed to match the rest of the place. The books, plentiful, seemingly young (which was not true, Zyler knew,) and unused. Zyler looked at the books a bit more, before turning to the others. "So, shall we get to business?"

Scarlet took a quick glance to each person as they entered. She giggled a little as the only other girl apologized to her seat. Noting that she looked to be a similar age to her, the blonde girl decided that she would make a mission to make an ally out of her. Annalee seemed extremely out of place in the room of rogues, but Scarlet knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance here.

Next, Christopher sat in the chair next to her, and Scarlet shot him a quick smile. Upon noticing the covering of his eye, she was immediately intrigued. I'll have to ask him about it later! She thought to herself, moving her gaze on to the next man, Kier. She smiled at him as well, sensing his giddiness. His clothes seemed fine and he was pretty well groomed, making her believe him to be wealthy. Normally, this would have bothered her because she was raised in the poverty that made those with money turn up there noses and avert their eyes when passing, but she decided to let it go. He didn't give off too much rich-boy air, so she reminded herself once again not to judge.

Finally, she reached Saro and watched him in silent shock. She tilted her head curiously as her examination landed her on his face. Blatantly staring, she mumbled quietly to herself, "You sure look happy." She continued to stare in fascination as he drew out the blood. It was a fantastic magic trick to her, seeing that she loved blood. Something about the deep red color and and the way it moved drew her in. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed slitting throats so much.

"Hey!" She snapped at Redjack, pouting for a moment at his insulting reply. She tried to hold the expression, but she soon was back to her idiot grin as she tried to think of a clever reply (with difficulty). "Well, then I'm calling you 'Shortie,' you know, because you're short..." Her voice trailed off as she realized her retort was quite weak. Despite his sarcasm, Scarlet did really like Redjack. His coarse humor amused her and she too trusted him not to kill her. She would consider him a friend, even if the feeling wasn't completely mutual. It was nice, in this place full of humans, so have someone else who represented the part-elf minority.

She didn't bother watching Saro and Redjack's exchange as she noticed Zyler who seemed to be of the same age as her. Something about his calm air confused her and at the same time intrigued her. There was too much stimulation for Scarlet's curious mind, so finally, she turned to Guanicus to await his instructions. She swung her feet back and worth, almost like a child, as she waited.

Guanicus the Mad, they called him. It seemed a few in the room had already figured out why. He wasn't even really reading his book, but watching them, listening to his new...whatever they were. He'd figure out the proper words later, one for their ears, and one for his mind, something they'd surely not appreciate it. He had to stifle a chuckle. He'd certainly managed to gather a motley crew, though not surprising, there were more shadow loving thief type things than not. The dust-addled fighter was a bit of a surprise, both that he'd applied, and that he'd made it. While the mage had no intention of prohibiting any of them from destroying themselves slowly, he would have to let it be known that addictions shouldn't affect the missions, especially those that were supposed to provide their disguise of 'inept but good natured.' The blonde was certainly a bit of a tart, probably custard. Custard had always seemed the least intelligent of the tart fillings.

The one thing that pleased him most as he watched them, listened to them, felt their body language, as they finally arrived in his sanctuary, was their awe. All seven of them, in some manner, were impressed with some portion of his display. And they ought to be. This wasn't something that happened over night, no! Since his fall from grace, he'd been carefully plotting and scheming, bargaining with otherworldy creatures, and capturing a few as well. All had come to perfectly ripe fruition. By all the demons below, he hoped it wouldn't be waste. The prattling of children and the flexing of egos had finally gone on long enough, and Guanicus shut the book quickly, loudly, and looked up, yellowing eyes wide. He hoped they looked as crazy as they felt when he tried to peer into people's souls. He wasn't very good at it, but it was fun to try. He stared at each of them for a long moment, occasionally scratching at his beard or licking his lips. Finally, he was satisfied that all eyes, and all thoughts, were on him. Now, he had to move quickly. Young people, they had no attention span, no patience for the gratification of slowly-hatched plots. He shook his head and closed his eyes, mumbling something that equated to 'Imp shit' in the language of magic.

With a slow, deep breath, he calmed himself and looked up once more. "Welcome to my inner sanctuary. I trust you all had a pleasant journey here, and if you didn't, I don't want to hear about it. You'll each notice that you're sitting in a living chair. Yes, they can understand you, feel you, smell you, and they probably don't like you." He paused for a moment, staring at the chimera's goat head. A moment turned into 20 seconds before he looked back up. "They're feelings towards you are irrelevant. They've all either given me their freedom through my crafty bargains or they've awoken to find their freedom locked in a cage in my brain. I don't envy getting stuck in their, trust me. A frightful place." He taps his noggin with an old skeletal finger, then chuckles, a breathy, gaspy chuckle. "I really should hire a speaker, I'm a bit here-and-there to be giving eloquent speeches. Either way, the idea that this guild present to you is thusly: We will take on silly quests in the presumed name of good, never rising our station above where we are now, but only managing to fumble our way through the easiest and often smelliest of the jobs that guilds get hired to do. As such, we'll be ridiculed. Being ridiculed means that -everyone-" and suddenly the madness seemed to leave Guanicus for a moment as he latched onto his dream. "EVERYONE will underestimate us. We'll slip under every sniffing nose even as you, my pets, will steal, maim, and destroy our way into true power in the pathetic city-country cesspool that I'm forced to reside." He nods emphatically, as if winning an argument, then leans back in his chair, stroking his unkempt beard.

"Are there any questions?" Spoken as if the very idea of his explanation not being 100% clear would be utterly preposterous.

She looked around the room, then back at the old mage. Everyone in the room scared her, except for the woman. Annalee wondered if the woman would like to drink tea with her sometime. She was scared of everyone else, because they were men. In her experience, men tended to come at her with a dagger in their chest moaning, "No, don't kill me, please," and that was always scary and left Annalee no choice but to slit their throat with her other dagger.

Annalee raised a hand timidly. "Um..." She looked around the room again. For a moment, she almost considered withdrawing her comment, but at this point it would be even more embarrassing to be too shy to say what was on her mind. "I liked the first part," said Annalee. "Where we do the silly and easy jobs. I like easy jobs. Maybe we can just do that."

She looked down and tightened her fists in her lap. She felt her cheeks go red. Her voice become so quiet that it was almost impossible to hear her. "I mean, I think the city is fine right now and stuff and I don't see why we have to take it over that is very rude and they didn't do anything to us so why can't we just do the easy jobs, maybe."

She looked back up, speaking a little louder now. "I also think maybe you guys should stop yelling at each other because we're going to be working together and I think that maybe we should all get along maybe."

Smelly, menial tasks, thought Christopher. Familiar territory, then.
"Suppose someone suspects our cunning plan?" he asked. He thought for a moment, and then added, "And what happens if a supposedly easy job spirals out of control and we're forced to show our true skills, thus attracting the attentions of someone much more powerful than us?"

He wasn't really sure how to judge this situation. He was still certain Guanicus was either going to kill everyone, or get killed himself by someone that would proceed to kill everyone else.

Still, as long as he could seduce the two ladies and survive the inevitable carnage long enough to pocket at least one valuable and/or useful item for the next chapter in his adventures, he would be satisfied with it.

He then turned his attention to Annalee. He wasn't sure if he should respond to her comments. He agreed, of course, but he didn't want to appear overly pathetic to the others. He leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table in an effort to look superiorly apathetic.

Zyler had assumed the Dryad his chair was made of was alive, he could see the small signs of her breath, her eyes move from person to person. He could feel her dislike towards him and he was going to try to revert it. Zyler looked to Guanicus. "So let me get this straight, were going to earn our rep by doing the jobs the other guilds would most likely turn down? And about these chairs, I assume that we had to choose them, they are ours for future meetings? If so, could it be possible to restore them under something like a contract with us individually?" He was wondering, cause with the fact they were living, having familiars would be advantageous to anything they could plan, and raise effectiveness a hundred fold.

He could see more extra extravagant heists being pulled with the power of nature on his side. He looked over at Annalee. "I don't know about that one. I think we will find a way to work together, but we certainly won't get along while doing it, well, some of us that is." He smiled a smile that told her that he wasn't like other men she might have known. It was apparent that he was one of the youngest people here, with Scarlet and Annalee the others closest to his age. It was funny. He was closest in age to the only female's in the group. The other male members seemed to be near their late twenties to thirties, aside from Redjack, as his eyes belayed a wisdom that only comes with age.

The mad mage's stroking hand shifted from his beard to the soft fur of the polar bear's foreleg, which Guanicus was using as the arm of his chair. As Annalee began speaking, his hand stopped moving, but nothing else about him betrayed the fact that he may or may not be listening. In fact, even as she continued speaking, he resumed petting the bear's thick fur, and even began humming quietly to himself. Was he even with them? However, by the time her fifth maybe was complete, fully received and processed in everyone's mind, save perhaps for the blonde, Guanicus stood. It seemed almost a practiced move, save for the lack of attention he paid to it, as his robes rose and immediately fell like a crashing wave upon a rocky coastline.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, index finger raised into the air, and there he froze for a second. His mouth closed, his hand dropped to his chin in a contemplative manner, and he peered at Annalee. It seemed many wheels were turning within his mind, but the question was, were any of them working in unison? Before he could figure out just exactly what he wanted to say to the meek assassin, the paranoid alleged cyclops spoke up. A train derailed somewhere, and in Guanicus mind, he swore he heard the explosions therein. He looking up at the ceiling, eyes travelling to a few different points as if he heard something, then shrugged as he heard no more.

He looked now to the ninja, Christopher of Blackwood, and smiled. "I'm so glad you asked. To your first question, you must remember, I was at the top. While many of those in power are truly good," he spat the last word, then continued. "Most are not so bright. I wonder that it took the embrace of Sue to bring me to ruin, for I found that the more I learned and understood our world, the more obvious it seemed that evil, if one must call it that, or at least the pursuit of selfish gain, was truly the enlightened path. As long as we do not seem powerful, we will not be capable, in their minds, of malicious mischief." This was perhaps the most lucid he'd been since he'd met them, or at least the longest visit to the tiny island of sanity within his fractured intellect. "To your second question, an even simpler answer: we do not rise to the occasion. Our assumed bravery must not be greater than our displayed power, and so, if anything at all requires more than our weak personas would be able to handle, we run."

A bushy eyebrow rose on his wrinkled face and the ferry pulled back out into the waters of crazy. He dropped to his knees and pressed the side of his head to a mermaid's chest, eyes wide open but unseeing for a moment. He then slipped into his seat, eyes closing slowly, and crossed his fingers across his stomach. He nodded once, shook his head once, and then he began moving his head in slow circles. "Mr. Fantasm, I do not know how things work on your cloud, but were I a brand new raindrop there, I’d not ask to borrow a hailstone, especially not before I’d had a chance to meet your thunder and lightning.” He smacked his lips a couple of times, and then he seemed almost to be drifting to sleep.

The Minotaur had such a furry head. For some time, Kier was distracted as he petted it, absentmindedly tuning out the conversations around him. When he looked up, the old wizard was staring at him. Kier grinned back. He hoped he was making a good impression- he wasn’t sure how the whole ‘work’ thing was supposed to go, but it seemed like things were going well.

Guanicus began to speak, something about the nature of the work. Kier half-listened as he took a quick look around the room. Some shifty-eyed men, two lovely ladies...God, Kier hoped they wouldn’t request that he sleep with either, or both of them tonight. Perhaps some other time, but at the moment he was too tired. They would have to take a rain check.

MaryJane- no, that wasn’t it- Mirabel? CindyLee? Closer. Or was it Annabel, or something? Kier wasn’t good with names. She had asked a question, and her face was turning red! He giggled. He wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was, though. Guanicus talked a good game, something about doing what was easy and obtaining power. Honestly, it was exactly what Kier was looking for- he needed an in back into the world of the wealthy. The mad wizard was a genius! The man was inspired!

“Bravo!”Kier sat up straight and applauded their employer as he finished answering Christopher, then immediately stopped as Guanicus suddenly appeared to be dozing off. It seemed a touch strange to Kier, even with the layer of haze drifting over his thoughts, but he took it in stride. “Sleep well,” he stated in earnest, assuming the enchanter had decided to take a nap. He sat back in his monstrous chair. Perhaps he ought to take a nap as well. Perhaps this was the part of the job interview where everyone took naps.

Redjack deigned not to reply to Saro's taunt, mostly because Guanicus had begun speaking and he didn't want to appear rude, and admittedly a little because no witty reply came to mind. As the mad old mage began to wax eloquent about his grand plan, Redjack listened with interest, leaning forward and nearly falling off Shady Samuel's lap. At the word 'power' Redjack's mind began spinning into overdrive, images of pools of gold, gems, and whores surfacing at the front of his mind and bringing him into a glorious daydream of living in a castle outside Zale and cutting off anyone who even THOUGHT he was short at the knees. Wait. The whores would probably drown in the money pool. He would need a harem. With that troubling logical flaw out of the way, Redjack submerged himself in his fantasy once again, surfacing occasionally to listen to the rest of the group speak.

Annalee is stupid he rationalized with a satisfied grin. She did have a point about getting along, though-Redjack may be a bastard, but if he was going to be working with these people he may have to rein it in. Redjack opted to satisfy his misanthropic urges by lapsing back into fantasy. 'Yes, girl,' I would begin. 'No one ever did anything to us! Those pickpockets just want to be close to you, because they're your friends! The muggers are doing you good by robbing you, you would just waste that money anyway! The murderers understand you don't need all that pesky blood inside you! You can tough out a few dozen stab wounds!' At this point, I will bring himself up to my full four feet and some inches, and continue in a grim, slightly manic tone. 'Everyone who ever tried you to screw you out of your money or your life in this fucking shithole may only be looking out for themselves, they might gladly grind you into the swamp and use you as a stepping stone to their own gain, but we can't show them how pathetic their squabbling is because THAT WOULD BE RUDE! You can go on apologizing to the people who look at you like a bug they might need to squash, but I will kill their families, burn the bodies and make them lick their loved one's blood and ashes off of my TINY. BOOTS.' At this point, I will laugh heartily to myself as Annalee breaks down in tears and kills hersel-

Redjack was snapped out of his mental reverie as the foppish one abruptly stood and began clapping, his plate gloves filling the small library with a resounding metallic clamour. The man named Kier stopped clapping and sat just as abruptly as he had stood. Redjack followed his gaze to see Guanicus apparently beginning to sleep. His eyes shot back to Kier when the man endorsed their employer's napping. I suppose I can be a little bit of a bastard thought Redjack before leaning toward Kier. "Excuse me, sir! Yes, you, with the armor that looks like it belongs in a museum and the silly haircut. You appear to have mistaken Guanicus' exemplary displaying of his insanity as some kind of performance in a theatrical show you rich folk go to. It is common practice in underground-literally underground-criminal meetings not to burst into applause like some common peasant who just witnessed someone shove his own head up his asshole on the street. While the wizard's dozing off is impressive in much the same way, hardened outlaws tend to consider forms of approval other than a victory whoop and a swift but heartfelt head butt to be bad form." His ire sated, Redjack settled back into the umbral furniture and waited for someone to speak.

Scarlet struggled to pay attention to Guanicus, she really tried, but soon enough she found herself distracted by the dragon head to her right. Its eyes glowed, and if wondered if like the goat it was alive. She cautious poked at it, snapping her hand away in shock as it growled and flared its nostrils. She quickly glanced to the front, checking to see if the old man was still droning. Her attention was captured at the words "steal, maim, and destroy."

She almost asked when they would fit things like bathing and and knife-sharpening into this busy schedule, but decided to stay quiet when Annalee spoke up. Scarlet smiled as the girl blushed and spoke so bashfully. It was so adorable to her. She shot her female contemporary a sympathetic look for her embarrassment. Her gaze lingered, mostly out of curiosity because it seemed strange for someone in this strange group to speak so lightly and innocently. She couldn't grasp how she thought the city was "fine." Scarlet had grown up here without much of a place to call home and thought the place was awful. People were assholes and if you didn't have some famous family crest or buckets of money, they didn't even bother looking at you.

These thoughts upset her and she absentminded popped out one of her wrist blades, her hands quivering as she shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Upon hearing Kier stand and applaud, she had to take another breath.

"No, you may not kill the rich boy right now. What would the others think?!?!" She mutter the words quietly under her breath and fingered the side of the blade. A few moments later, she was back to her bubbly self, totally forgetting her own momentary rage. Seeing that the mage's ranting was over, she jumped out of her seat and approached Annalee with a giant grin plastered across her face.

"Hi! I happened to notice that you're not a man and I was thinking to myself, cool! I'm not a man either! Would you like to be my best friend?" She held out a hand to shake, but drew it back as she realized her blade was sticking out and being so pointy. She moved her pinky with the ring that retracted the blade and presented the hand again.

Scarlet was lucky that Zalophus had taken the precaution necessary to prevent the dragon-head of her chair form even snorting a glob of acid at her. It might not kill her, but it certainly appeared that she liked to be pretty, and acid to the face...was known to change that. The magicked muzzle, however, prevented such things and kept her safe. The lion head, sensing its fellows disdain, rumbled beneath her, it's furry main positively vibrating with the in-throat roar. It seemed, unlike most vicious humans, that magical creatures didn't like to poked.

Guanicus snapped awake, eyes and arms darting this way and that is if someone had roused him violently. Breathing heavily, he paused, hands braced on the crystal table, then realized where he was once more. "You might want to take your seat, dear, before someone else takes it. Would be a pity to have to sit on the floor. -Trust- me." With that he stood and crawled upon his table, lying on his stomach and lifting his feet into the air, not unlike a teenaged girl inanely prattling about the most recent gossip. His robe slipped up, revealing exactly what one would expect to see: old wrinkly chicken legs. Nonchalantly, Guanicus smiles, batting his eyelids, and even placing the backs of his hands under his chin. "Ladies!"

He continued batting his eyes for several more moments, then even flipped the bit of wispy hair with a hand, then stood on the crystal surface more quickly than he should have been able to. Immediately afterwards, he bent over, clutching his back and wincing. "That's it, next time you'll meet my apprentice. I'm too old to try and keep your damned attentions." He muttered a few words and levitated back to his bear chair, slowly leaning back in it with a pout. It seemed the pain kept him present long enough to finish giving them their first assignment, however.

"Annalee and Scarlet, you will be the team leads for this. I want each of you to pick two people for your team. Both the shiny and the not-so-shiny fighter must go, as well as the blood juggler. That means either the thief or the ninja stays with me for a special mission." He wiggled his bushy eyebrows at each of the two mentioned from his furry chair and then clapped, and the room went momentarily pitch black. The crystal table glowed suddenly, and a map appeared vertically for all to see, showing the city and a few miles surrounding it. He muttered a few words and a building at the edge of the city, upon the swamp, was highlighted. He continued speaking arcane words under his breath, and a path highlighted from their lair into the swamp, where a few buildings formed a tiny mining town.

"This is Bogville. In Bogville, they've a small problem, but since the mine yields so little, they've little money to hire a real guild. We're going to help them for a pittance, thus showing our goodliness and gaining their appreciation, which may come in useful in the future. We have two teams for the two pronged attack we'll carry out. The first, Scarlet's, will head into the mine and retrieve what I believe is an unearthed artifact, which is causing the problem. Team two, you will stay above ground and battle the zombies that have risen from the swamp to defend the town." He clapped again, the map disappeared, and the light returned. "Remember, we are a pathetic guild with little power. Your normal weapons will need to be left here in your quarters save for one each, so that -should- things get out of hand, you can still defend yourselves. And Saro, you can use no magic more powerful than a magic missile. If you cannot cast that, then I suggest a staff or a dagger."

He snapped and a weapon rack slid out of the wall to Guanicus' right. Each of the weapons looked normal, save for the pockmarks, the chips, and the rust. "This will be your weapons for this mission. They actually reduce the damage you do so your true power will be masked. Kill the zombies, retrieve the artifact, notify the mayor of completion, and return here. Do not accept the money from him, and do not harm or steal from any of the townsfolk. I'll see to payment later. It's only noon now. I suggest you visit your quarters briefly. Each bears the symbol of your chair, and each is keyed to you. No one else will be able to go in to steal your items. Please, do not attempt to disregard -any- of my rules." He snapped once more, and a door appeared by the weapons rack. "Your quarters are through there. Once you exit your quarters, you will find yourselves outside. Good night." And with that, he promptly slipped back into his slumber. After a few moments, his nose began whistling with a high pitched vibrato on every exhalation.

The weapon rack had weapons of every sort, so no one would go without their preferred weapons. The weapons were truly despicable, but they were at least balanced well enough that swinging them or thrusting with them felt normal. In fact, should someone look very closely, the ruination of the blades was almost completely cosmetic.

(Scarlet and Annalee, pick your teams, weapons and visit your quarters, then get a move on. The one not chosen...just you wait.)

Saro remained silent as his new leader spoke. The blood continued to swirl, constantly catching the light at almost every angle. He is insane. This will prove to be a most interesting experience.., he thought with a grin. At least it was an attempt at a grin, the scars didn't allow more than a slight upturning of his lips. A very faint chuckle, faint enough so that only the people to his immediate right and left heard, came from the twisted smile. The globe moved towards his chest. It never wavered in its path, and stopped to hover there. A ripple ran through its surface, and then the sphere shot into his mouth. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner, which he wiped away immediately.

The old mage stirred again. Saro's eyes widened a great deal as he watched the mage crawl onto his desk and assume what Saro could only say was the strangest position he'd ever seen an old man be in. Nothing but his eyes showed his disbelief. What HAVE I gotten myself into? Fortunately for Saro's eyes, he didn't have to endure that odd sight for very long. Guanicus bent over in pain, his hands on his back. "Fool...", Saro muttered to himself.

At the description Guanicus gave him, Saro's eyes narrowed in fury beneath his cowl. They soon widened. "Saro, you can use no magic more powerful than a magic missle. If you cannot cast that, then I suggest a staff or dagger.", the old mage said with what sounded like amusement to Saro. He was about to voice his objections when he realized that it would do him no good. He probably wouldn't know what I was talking about. Grinding his teeth at his new limitation, Saro stood and picked a swordstaff. It was the least rusted he could find (and that itself was a difficult task). Returning to his seat, he laid the staff across his lap. Calmly, he waited for someone to pick him for a team.

As Scarlet approached her, Annalee found herself blushing. She was pleased, though. The girl had said exactly what was also on Annalee's mind - they were the only girls in the room, so why not be friends? These days, women had to look out for each other. There were violent people in the world. "I would like that," bubbled Annalee, perhaps too excited, too fast. She blushed a deeper shade of red.

Guanicus began to speak, so Annalee turned her attention back to the old mage. She wanted to crawl under her spider seat. Why did she have to be a team leader?! Could there have been a worse choice in the universe?! She was not worthy to be a leader. And she had to lead men?! Would they even have to follow her? Unlike other times, Annalee's solution couldn't be beheading. And zombies! Annalee did not like zombies. They were not very attractive, and very bitey.

Still, if it was for the good of the town...

Annalee got to her feet quietly. She went to the weapons rack first, wanting to buy some time before making a decision about her teammates. She picked two shiny daggers, which were both the perfect size to hide in her dress. Then she turned back to the room, trying very hard to look determined (although it mostly made her look constipated.) Annalee had to choose the people who looked least threatening. She wanted to choose Scarlet, but she was already the other team leader...

First, she approached Kier. He did not seem that mean and he liked naps. Annalee also liked naps. She reasoned that someone who liked naps could not be a bad person. "I look forward to working with you," she said, forcing an awkwardly stiff bow.

Then she approached Zyler. She had seen Zyler admire the books when he entered the room. Annalee liked books. She hoped that they could discuss books together over tea. After the zombies, of course. "I look forward to working with you as well," she said, bowing awkwardly again.

Shortly thereafter, Annalee retired to her room. She did not do much. Had a quick nap. Polished her daggers. Had a cup of tea. Then she went directly outside the guild, to the front door, where she had agreed to meet Kier and Zyler. Soon they would head out to defend the town from zombies.

After smiling at Annalee's reply, Scarlet skidded back to her own chair as Guanicus began speaking.

"You might want to take your seat, dear-" DEAR. He called her dear? The word bounced against the wall of her brain, echoing and getting louder and louder. She stared blankly ahead, seeming to be listening. In reality, however, adrenaline had started pumping through her veins. Her usually calm breath began whipping in and out at an accelerating pace. She shut her eyes, running a hand over her face as the old man continued to speak, but the echoing was getting worse.

The voice seemed to be mocking her now, and she did not like it at all. The moment their eccentric leader stopped speaking, her eyes snapped open. Any onlooker could swear this was not the exact same bubbly and docile girl who had been poking at the dragon head. An expression of rage flashes across her sharp features and within seconds she had leaped from the chair and was soaring towards the desk, blades drawn.

"DON'T CALL ME DEAR!" She screamed, landing over the old man. One of her wrist blades snapped down, stopping millimeters from his throat. Just as she was about to swipe across to waste the old man, her eye caught Redjack, someone familiar, and she froze. After a moment of deer in the headlights look, she stepped back and retracted her blades. She turned on her heels and smiled.

"Saro, Shortie, I choose you! Hurry up or the bus will leave without you." She spoke as if she hadn't just had a rage outburst, in her normal giggly voice. She then sauntered over to the weapon rack, picked a slightly chipped curved blade, and skipped off to her room to remove some daggers and her wrist blades.

After a few minutes, she was waiting outside for their mission, humming a gleeful tune.

Kier had remained silent throughout Redjack’s tiny tirade, and he was silent for a moment afterwards. Then he burst into laughter. He had never before seen someone simultaneously so teensy and so angry! Most of the content of the little man’s rant flew threw one ear and out the other, although he did catch the bit about the “silly haircut,” which he found slightly disheartening. He happened to be rather proud of his shiny, shiny hair. Seconds into his fit of laughter, however, he remembered that Guanicus was sleeping. Kier immediately pulled himself together. “Shhh, quiet, quiet!” He raised a finger to his lips, looking at Redjack as if the ornery half-elf had been the one making noise in the first place.

Guanicus snapped out of his slumber to inform them of their mission...but first, he crawled onto his desk. Maybe it was the dust, but for Kier, Guanicus’s every action seemed to have some awesome incomprehensible deeper meaning. The wizard was quickly rising on Kier’s list of favorite people, though the only other person on that list was Kier himself. He wasn’t pleased about leaving his sword behind, however. It was a Mon Duvell family heirloom, one that Kier had technically been asked to leave behind when his parents kicked him out, though none of the guards had been willing to try to take it from him for fear of losing a limb. Not only was it perfectly weighted, but all of the symbols on the hilt told the inspiring story of the Mon Duvell’s rise to power. Something about child labor and monopolizing trade...Kier wasn’t clear on the details. In any case, he was very fond of his sword, and for the first time all day his mood was dampened as he picked a grungy sword of a similar size from Guanicus’s weapons stash.

Of course, his mood picked up as Annalee approached him. As she was mid-bow, he took her hand and kissed her fingers, as a gentleman should when speaking to a lady whom he would most likely be bedding later. It was more procedural than passionate. “So shall I!” he responded enthusiastically, unaware that his reply made little to no sense, then strolled off to his quarters.

Once in his quarters, Kier dropped his sword on his bed, but the fairy dust quickly signalled to his brain that that wasn’t right. Kier stared at his sword for a moment, then tucked it under the covers with the hilt resting on his pillow. Much better. The question now was whether or not to take more dust. The pinch operating on him now was sure to wear off on the way to Bogville, but Guanicus wanted them to save the townspeople. If he took more dust, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to differentiate between the living and the undead, or even the undead and the actual dead. Wistfully, he removed two vials from his pocket and placed them on the night table. “I will return to you, my loves,” he whispered to them, and with that, headed outside to meet with Annalee.

Redjack was not expecting Kier to begin laughing. The last person who had laughed at Redjack had ended up with his feet nailed to his chest. First befuddlement, then shock, then a brief flicker of sadness, then anger, then rage, then mass-murdering world-burning igniting-small-animals-with-a-glare fury danced across his features. His hand slid toward one of the many daggers hidden on his person when Kier shushed him. His fingers adjusted course to his largest and most painfully barbed blade. Before he could turn Kier into a very foppish corpse, Guanicus snapped awake and assumed a...very strange...position on the crystal table. I'm going to have to scrub my eyes out with swamp water, now. thought Redjack. He brought his hand away from the dagger and back to his side. There will be plenty of time to stab my guild members in the back later rationalized Redjack. Thankfully, Guanicus resumed his seated position a few moments before Redjack's eyes began bleeding, and he listened closely as the insane wizard began to speak.

He's picking those two to be team leaders? Well well, Guanicus, I'm disappointed by your judgment. Scarlet can hardly lead her own feet across the street without getting hit by a carriage. And Annalee's subordinates won't even be able to hear her. If they wanted to mutiny they would just have to ask! Guanicus mentioned a special mission, and before Redjack's rational mind could elaborate, the part of his brain that causes night terrors conjured up images of having to shave those awful chicken legs. If no one picks me for a mission, I'm walking. Redjack was prevented from further colorful mental commentary by the lights going out, plunging the room into darkness. Redjack's keen half-elven vision picked out Guanicus moving his hands in a vaguely mystical fashion that resembled milking a cow, and a glowing map appearing above the table. Guanicus began to explain the job they would do. Why would anyone want to live in a town named Bogville? I understand that we have to appear good, but no one in their right mind would help a town named Bogville. They're going to start calling us the Bloody Loonies Guild! He pondered more along this vein before Guanicus began describing the two separate missions. Redjack decided that nothing good ever came from investigating mysterious unearthed artifacts in mines. He also decided that fighting off a zombie invasion was a terrible way to spend an afternoon. He concluded he was probably screwed either way. Wait, he couldn't use his normal weapons? He was definitely screwed. Guanicus finished speaking and Redjack's gaze resumed its sweep of the room. He glared for a moment at Kier before his eyes fell on the livid Scarlet. "Oh, shit" he muttered to himself. He'd only seen Scarlet like this twice before, and both times had ended up in the rooms Scarlet was in at the time being redecorated a lovely shade of crimson very quickly. Deciding it wouldn't do for Scarlet to kill any of the people who would assist him in obtaining wealth and power, Redjack sprang from his seat just as Scarlet leaped across the room toward Guanicus' table. Redjack had made it halfway to the desk, and he was prepared to slide under it to kick Guanicus out of the way when Scarlet's eye caught his. He held her gaze for a moment. "Calm down, dammit!" he barked. Either sanity snapping back into place or his own encouragement worked, and Scarlet snapped out of her rage fugue before she could give Guanicus a new hole in his throat to whistle out of. In a moment she was back to her aggravatingly cheery self. No part of me believes this will go well, at this point.

As Scarlet cheerily skipped off, Redjack threw out a parting remark. "Hey Blondie, next time you're going to kill someone you could make sure someone pays you for it! It's like you've learned nothing from me! Respect the wisdom of your elders!" His voice raised in volume as the other half-elf moved further and further away down the corridor. His voice trailed off into random muttering as he grabbed a belt of rusty throwing knives from the weapons rack and went off to his chambers. Redjack removed his heavy cloak and went through the process of removing weapons from his person until there was a pile of assorted daggers half as tall as him precariously piled in front of his person. Redjack carefully considered the stack of deadly weapons before grabbing one large, serrated knife he had won in a bet with a dwarf. Was that the same dwarf I killed with this thing? No, that was his brother Merin, the one I won this from is Berin. I killed Berin by drowning him in a pig trough Good times. Contemplation of past killings complete, Redjack threw his cloak back over his shoulders and left his room to join Scarlet. He briskly nodded at her before leaning against the stone wall of the guild house and waiting for Saro to come out so they could get this clusterfuck on the road, or decrepit and abandoned path through the swamp as the case may be.