Simi's Story

Up in the rafters, what appeared to be a shadow on the wall, removed itself! After what seemed to be a millenia, Simi woke herself from her sleep, positioned inside the walls. Her wings took straight to flight, she was ready for some fun, this much she could tell instantly. Darting down to the bar area, Simi swirled atop the heads of every patron. Her lifelong search of a master had yet to be fulfilled, she had all but given up hope of ever coming across one here in this gathering place of drunkards and puny bystanders. This had been the reason for her sleep to begin with.

The dragon fairy however, took note of a handful of soldiers stomping down the stairs, "Ooh... Simi play!" She flew directly between each man, so as to shine her light directly in every eye, and beat them to the top with lightening speed. She found a spot up in a corner that hid her very well, where she once again shrank into the walls, unseen to any eye, and set back to watch the show.

An odd couple shadowed the entry way of the Tauvyr Tavern. The man stood at an even 5 foot, rather short compared to other men. His clothing appeared to be wrapped around his body all different directions, nothing but black wrinkle made his silhouette. Of course, this included his face; only from his eyes and above was visible. This was of no concern, however, because the true beauty that made the man, sat upon his right shoulder. A purple dragon, a miniature dragon... No, a purple miniature demon sat upon the young man's shoulder.

Having traveled for some distance, they wandered upon the Cursed Wood. Simi saw a demon lurking within the shadows, and right before she devoured him, he had spoke of the Tauvyr Tavern as the best establishment for nourishment. Sampson could not live off of the souls of demons like Simi could, he needed food and water, just like the rest of the human race.

"Oh! This is the place!" Simi squeaked. "So many life!" Sampson found it hard not to be amused at Simi's astonishment any time he ever took her around other beings with bleeding hearts. He turned his head, "Hush, you. You'll be acknowledged soon enough." She always was. Before that though, Sampson liked to retrieve his food and drink, in hopes of having it finished when her introduction to the crowd took place: It usually ended with the two of them being thrown out, which of course brought upon the establishment Simi's Rain of Fire.

Perhaps today would be a good day for her though, she might even be in a friendly mood. "Don't count bobbles before they break, Human." Simi said. Sampson hated it when she responded to his thoughts like that. It was one thing to know she could hear them, but it was extremely annoying when she spoke upon them. "It's 'chickens before they hatch,' Simi." Sampson corrected. She swung her tail up to smack his ear. "You know what Simi mean. Ohh look! A chair!" She pointed towards an empty table that was dressed with a single wick candle, and a satin tablecloth.

Gently, the two made their way to the table and took a seat. While Simi climbed unto the table to play with the flame, Sampson eyed the menu trying to decide on his dinner.

"Wine," ordered the man who stood at the bar; his back straight and covered by a light armour of highly decorated leather. Atop his long white hair, a headdress sat upon his head and made two strands of his locks fall above the rest. This made him him the most noticeable figure in the room, for his culture and attire was far different from that of any other present patron.

His drink arrived, and he sat himself on a chair proudly as he drank. "Barkeep," he began saying, "Tell me of this castle of which I hear so much."

"Castle Vankoryth?" The barkeep replied, scratching a bald head. "Us folks stay away from that place. You should to."

Simi sat in front of the flame, giggling loudly every time she put her tiny finger into it. "It tickles Sammy!" She yelled. "Oh hush, you!" Sampson eyed the crowd, "How many times have I told you not to call me that!?"

As the waiter stopped to the side of the table, Simi swooped up onto Sampson's shoulder. "Leg of lamb, please. Rare, of course. Extra sauce. Steamed asparagus, with roasted potatoes." The waiter arched an eyebrow. Of course, it was a possible entree, but high and pricey none the less. These two occupants did not look like they could afford their order. "And to drink, good sir?" The waiter asked. "Wine, dry." The waiter left the table, and went to talk with the bartender. While they shared their whispers, Simi found her first distraction. "Ohh! Look Samp-Son!" She leapt from his shoulder, and pointed at the tall soldier sitting at the bar. "What a pretty hat! I like it! I want one!"

Sampson reacted quickly, and reached out to grab hold of Simi before she flew away. "You promised to stay close!" He emphasized with an extra squeeze. Simi couldn't move her legs, but she pounded upon his wrist. "Fine! Let me go!"

As the waiter reappeared with the glass of wine, he started talking to Sampson directly. Simi took this opportunity to go see about the 'Pretty hat'.

Fluttering around the soldiers head, with her tail dangling in his face, she began her thousand question a minute regular, "Hello there. Who're you? Where're you from? Where'd you get this hat? It's pretty, yes, yes it is. Can Simi have it!?" All the while reaching out and poking the hat with her tiny finger, then darting to put distance between herself and the soldier enough to avoid being swiped out the air. Simi hated when humans did that to her.

"Leave me alone you pest!" he snapped, threatening to swat Simi with his hand but never actually going through with it. He wasn't particularly keen on starting a fight when he was trying to listen to someone speak. Alas, the barkeep had moved on while the small woman was distracting him, so he simply went back to his wine and made sure to keep an eye out for the fluttering creature.

"It is not a hat, it is a headdress. An ornament for the hair and a symbol of my culture. You insult me with your accusations of hat-ness! If I was not in such a good mood I would strike you for your distinct lack of respect."

Simi sat down upon the counter top, legs circled before her, and rocked excitedly, "Oohh... headdress! Dress for head!" She giggled uncontrollably, "Simi get it!" The dragon couldn't help herself, she found other people so intriguing.

Sampson looked to the waiter as Simi fluttered off, apparently the owners of the establishment wanted their money before they cooked his food. 'How typical.' he thought as he dug out his coin from behind the cloth wrap around his stomach. "Here." He said as he dropped 6 gold pieces into the waiters' hand, "That should cover the meal, your tip, and then some." The waiter nodded his head and took off. As Sampson reached for his glass, he spoke to Simi, "I think it's your..." He paused. Where the hell did she go now!?

As he searched the room, he caught a glimpse of a purple spot flying about a mans' head. At the same time that the patron swatted at Simi, Sampson jumped from his chair and made his way over to his companion. "Simi! What is it you're bothering this man about?" He offered a polite smile to the gentleman at the bar; a noble man, Sampson would have to guess.

The mage Sampson sat back down at his table with the small demon. "You know, stupid pet, your going to make it impossible for us to be subtle!"

Simi fluttered from the man's hand to his shoulder, "But Sammy! You say we here to..."

"SSSHH!!" Sampson sipped his wine and rubbed his forehead, "Just stop talking for once. Listen, and think. Try to just think. Perhaps you could talk with yourself inside your own head for once."

"Sammy so silly." Simi spoke, but she knew when to take Sampsons' word seriously. She knew he was intent on staying within the limits of this village, Hollow.

For some odd reason, Sampson never told Simi why; however hard that is to imagine.

Together, the pair sat at the table. Sampson's food arrived. While he picked at his plate, Simi picked at his mind.

"I apologise if I seemed rude," he told Sampson and Simi as he passed their table, having quite disgracefully chosen to ignore the man and his strange little companion when they tried to communicate with him earlier at the counter of the tavern. "I had some urgent business to discuss with the barkeep and I could not afford to be distracted."

"Still, I am happy to consent to a little conversation. Tell me about yourselves; you seem to be a rather odd couple, if I may say so myself."

Around him, he could hear the Arch-Mage and the Vampiress talk about the voice of the world and the footsteps of yet another traveller entering, whom he quickly examined in order to assess. However, what kind of skills or powers they had was ultimately irrelevant unless they planned to get in his way later that evening...

Sampson took another bite of his food, and instructed Simi to keep quiet as the gentleman from the counter approached their table. "No apology neccesary!" He spoke through a mouth full of food. Swallowing the bite, he rose and offered a hand as he had seen many people meeting for their first time do before, a hand shake, he believed it had been called.

"Please sit, would you care for some food? I've paid the waiter off already, I'm pretty sure he takes us seriously now." This was the first patron that hadn't ran away after being bothered by his Simi. Even now, she was itching to jump from his shoulder and start interrogating the man again. However, she heard the seriousness in Sampson's voice when he told her to stay put. She could tell it was important for him to socialize with people his own size, though Simi still found them beneath her.

Sampson sat back down, and took a sip of his wine. "My name is Sampson, and you've met Simi. We're travelers, out seeking adventure that wouldn't seek us out first! Hah!" Sampson almost always used this as his job description, but never got a response in return to match his own. He took a bite of his meat, making sure not to chew with his mouth open.

He didn't take the hand, his too was a foreign culture that had no such gesture. He simply sat there, shaking his head to the offer of food and keeping an eye on Simi. He would rather she did not try to mess with his head-dress again, especially considering that it was so valuable in terms of gold.

"Seeking adventure. A noble goal of itself, but a dangerous one. I hope that you have trained hard in the martial arts if you plan to make your way through the world. I once did the same; wandering aimlessly, looking for fights in the places most avoid. It was a hard life, one that took the lives of several friends. If you stick with it, however, and make sure not to die, then you will make far more than you will lose. With an equal amount of enemies."

He seemed rather young for someone giving such experience-driven advice, but he offered no explanation. They would probably just have to settle on the idea that he, like so many others, managed to avoid ageing.

He looked across the room at the old grandfather clock just in time to see the minute hand hitting the half-way mark between 10 and 11 in the evening. He would move at 11 and use the hour to prepare. It was often a lengthy, time-draining and downright messy business that he was in, but his ambitions required it.

The old hooded man scanned the room and narrowed his gaze on the new figure that entered the tavern. He could sense a magical aura surrounding him - something of an elemental nature. Perhaps this young man could be of use to Sheodin and his pilgrimage...

The disguise the Arch-mage had carefully woven was holding true. Only a master of the School of Illusion would be able to sense something amiss about the frail cloaked man sitting near the fire. A vast arcane power was sealed within the dark brown robes like a lead suit holding back the power of a nuclear reactor. His true form would draw too much attention. For this pilgrimage to be fruitful, he needed solitude and silence.

A renowned Aryite Arch-mage walking through the door of a local tavern would catch a few unwanted stares.

Sheodin glanced at the oriental. There was a certain degree of arcane energy that radiated from the man - and a looming darkness.

"As of now I am searching for shrines and temples..." he returned his attention to the vampiress. "Anything that acts as a bridge for the divine or mystical to the mundane, and also places that share a strong affiliation for light or darkness. If you can point me in the right direction, that would be most appreciated."

Sampson pulled his hand back, looking at it truly for the first time, "I always saw that as a mundane gesture too!" With round eyes, he met those of the slim silvered gent. He resembled the warriors of his own Motherland; his advice rang true straight from his soul. Sampson's gift was reading people. That was how he had survived thus far, and what had brought Simi to him.

"Oh, he's good." Simi said into Sampson's ear. The boy nodded, "Here, here!" He rose the glass and finished off his drink. The boy was full, at last! It had been days since he last had his fill completely at a table. Traveling throughout different lands had taken its' toll in many different ways: the regular supply of food was the worst one. He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, and placed it atop the empty plate. Trying to come up with some kind of wisdom about life, Sampson froze instead. 'Wow, I must have really been starving to not notice this amount of strength in the air!' Looking first to the dark woman, to the two other patrons, and back to his silver sword friend, Sampson spoke next to Simi. "I thought you said there would be no bounty placed upon our heads for that... you know!" The dragon shook her head, "I did. Say 'did not happen!' So, din't!"

Sampson shifted in his chair, as he began to flush. "What kind of place have you brought me to, Simi!" This was a low enough whisper to avoid any set of human ears that would be listening, but there wasn't a single pair of those anywhere else in the room! The crazy little beast began to zoom around his head, this time she spoke with a deeper voice and illuminated darker in color as well. "You want eat, I bring you to food. You no want to eat the wolf that Simi ate, I ask you this! You say no, your hungry human insides don't eat wolf, but lamb. So we eat for Lamb! You eat all of LAMB!" "Shh!Shh!Okay..." He mumbled through grit teeth, "I mean the area, more or less the kind of lamb?"

He smiled and shrugged at his warrior, "Heh, heh. I'm not entirely immune to the ways of some others."

"You no trust Simi!" The small dragon crossed her arms, and pouted on top of Sampson's shoulder.

Demor took a drink of his water and sighed, his mind wandering again. He then turned around and looked at the Tavern. Well, the people in the tavern anyway. They all had some sort of magical energy within their bodies, he could sense it. He looked to the Old Man not too far away from him, and blinked, his draconian pupils adjusting to the light as he opened his eyes.

This Old Man had an immense amount of magic energy, though, he was hiding something... Demor wasn't sure what it was, but he sensed something interesting from the Old Man, and his curiosity overruled his other thoughts, and Demor moved over to where the old man sat, standing at what he thought was out of arms reach of the old man.

"I might be able to help you find some of those shrines you're looking for." he said. He had heard everything that was said in this Tavern since the moment he had entered it. "I pass them occasionally on jobs that I go on. Or I have to do something within them on some jobs." he said. Whatever was behind his back twitched, and made the cloak he wore move suddenly.

"Oh, where are my manners." he said, hitting himself in the forehead with his palm. "I'm Demor. A Storm Dragon Slayer Magic user." he said with a small bow. "And who might you be?" he asked.

The old man scoffed at the vampiress. "You and I walk two separate paths of mysticism... While you delve into the dark and forbidden arts of black magic and necromancy, I seek the wisdom and balance from the universe and its astral arcane forces. I do not seek those that dwell within the shrines and temples, or their sacred tomes, but to understand their connections to the astral plain."

Sheodin turned towards Demor. A smile spread across his shrouded wrinkled face. "That would be much appreciated... At the moment I am searching for anything that may have a connection to the divine or mystical - either dark or light. And I am no one special... Just a simple traveler and scholar."

"I must leave now," spoke Dark Sky, his voice a little more cautious. The speech of temples, necromancy, dark and light magics and other such similar subjects made him think again about the idea that what he planned would be as easy as he thought, especially if the others around him happened to be after the same thing. This, however, he highly doubted. What were the chances that they too had business where he was going to search through and revive the dead that interested him? Small, most likely, but Dark Sky was a man who left little to chance.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Sampson and Miss Simi."

He bowed a little, then stood up straight and left the building with his head held high.

-

Just as the Yaojing left, the Demon entered; a beautiful man of the Incubus variety, who was here not to feed, or to seek partners, but because boredom demanded it. Because with the power and charm to take everything he could possible want in the world through discretion or force, Ripper felt unbearably lacking in things to interest him.

A single, black, steel like blade pierced from the tip of his index finger and he dragged it over the surface of the nearest table on his way towards the counter, his entire ambience like that of a student wishing he did not have to walk to his next class, but found himself doing so anyway through lack of a better option.

"Does someone here wish to bring me entertainment?" He asked, eyebrows raising as he struggled to open the lids below him. He leaned back against the counter, facing back towards the door and slowly undoing the top button of his coat as though warm.

Winne didn't bother waiting for a response, taking a seat specifically across the table from Awinita. She eyeballed the sharp dressed gentleman for a brief moment, raised a brow at the cat, before sticking an audio recorder on the table.

Kethyr Naethus sighed and went on his way, paying his tab and slinking into the night.

Winne Rineswurth loudly scootched her chair an inch closer to Awinita.

Ulrich Paternosta stepped into the warm interior of the tavern. He gave it a quick scan and grunted. She wasn't anywhere in sight; good. There was something off with Ms. Tauvyr as of late. More off than usual.

Stone and Boyle followed in shortly after. The pair of vampires sort of taking in the sights of a rather rich looking drinking hole. "Nice. Nice. Hey Stones! They got the nice chairs! Take a peep at them!" Boyles made his way over to a table. A chair with rich velvet cushions that he ran along his hand. "Look at that. Feel that. Good right?"

Stones followed in not even giving the chair a look.

"Ish fine." He said bluntly. He moved to the sight. Taking in a strong nostril fill of something. Hm.

"That one." he pointed to a bottle behind the counter. A cup? "No. That one." The whole bottle? Okay... He uncorked it and began to drink it very greedily.