Snippet #1349169

Misora stayed close to Bem as they headed to a local bar, every once in a while catching a few grumbled words from Bem about aching backs and sticky fingers. Was it her fault the men decided to go after the big beast instead of a small girl when they discovered their items ‘missing’. No, no it was not; that was their decision to go after the wrong guy. She just had to pay for it by behaving tonight… or at least not get caught this time.

Arriving at their destination, Misora shot a glare at the back of her friend’s head as he reminded her to keep her hands to herself. “Yes sir.” she feigned a sigh as if he told her to stand in the corner, but was quickly cut off by finding her face shoved into fur as they made their way to a seat and she was given yet another reminder. Honestly! Did the male expect her to just start cutting bag straps the second they walk in? They came here for information on the rebellion, and for that she could hold off; but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look.

Relaxed in her seat, Misora started at one end of the room and examined each person within sight.

Weapon. Weapon. Unarmed, but no coins’ pouch. Weapon. Weapon. Armor...must have a weapon to go with it. Drunk and lightly armed, he may be a good one. Weapon. Hidden weapons. Drunk but WAY to friendly to get near. Weapon…

The more she looked the more excited she got. There was to be no pick pocketing tonight; rule of thumb, don’t steal from someone who’s armed and looks capable of using it. She had to learn that one the hard way with Bem. Yet the excitement was still there for another reason. It’s not every day you see this many people with this many weapons and armor of some kind; then yet, if some don’t even look all that intoxicated while sitting inside a bar. It was starting to look like the trail of the rebellion was leading them in the right way coming here.

Finally tearing her eyes away from the potential heist victims, Misora noticed the strange man with the cloth around his head. Automatically looking at his side for a weapon or money, she simply shook her head and glanced back up to where his face was hidden. If this person was being careful enough to hide his face, he was surely just as careful about the objects on him. Great, that marks another one off the list. “Looks like you’re in luck Bem and can enjoy your drink. Too many out of my league here. So I’ll just sit here like a good girl, just like I promised.” Giving the Beastkin a huge grin, she let it fall to be a more serious look and tone. “And I think we’re in the right place. If you look around there are quite a few who-WHAT’S the old short man?” Speaking softly, she leaned over the bar a bit to get a better look, switching her train of thought quickly to the shorter man a little ways down the bar. Was he one of the stompers she had heard of? She had never seen one before, but he fit the description in an elfish-crazy-old-man sort of way.