Snippet #810790

[Sariyah Azani; Screeching Harpys Inn and Bar, Anastor]

Finally merging unto the streets after exiting the dim lighted alley’s they had trudged through, Sariyah and her companion forcefully waded through the growing crowd of merry drunks and drinkers. Unknowingly blocking their way, a large group of onlookers had gathered to watch the gypsies dance in their bizarre ways. But seeing as there was no luxury of time to spare, these two shady characters could only push and shove their way towards the end of the narrow road –hoping to get across without much incident or attention.

While the intricate moves of the performers were entrancing enough, the ways of gypsies was never something Sariyah could ever find herself getting into. Caught complain about the overwhelming noise of strange brass like instruments and rising incense, she found herself unable to think out-loud but continuing nonetheless. -Swift footsteps readily turning into sluggish strides with each man pushed aside until they had freed themselves from the large mass of bodies.

Given a brief moment of respite, the constant hurried pace these two strangers were in hastily declined as they approached the venue of another meeting. –A modest tavern and inn run by a shrewish harpy who catered to the rowdier folk in town. Being within earshot of the bar, every step they took away from the crowd deadened the foreign noise –which was instead replaced by a more familiar sound, the fighting of bitter men. And overpowering the smell of scented smoke was hard liquor –lingering among sticky cobblestone floor.

“Is this really the place?” Sariyah questioned the man but somehow, already knew the answer she would receive.

“Just follow my lead and act accordingly.” The Dark Hooded man spoke to her as they casually waited outside the tavern to talk. “Now, before we enter, I want you to take off that turban and veil of yours to avoid suspicion –I don’t care how ugly you are.” He jested but somehow managed to carry the same serious tone of voice.

In but one fluid motion of her hands, Sariyah had removed the veil shielding her face from all –and no one who looked upon this girl would ever know of her as a druid.

“Do you require anything else before we continue stranger?” She spoke coyly, knowing that her stunning features would catch this man off guard. Aside from the grotesque scar that ran from her cheek to ear, she was still fairly beautiful in an eerie sort of way.

“Y-Yes,” The Dark Hooded man spoke slightly amazed, “Refer to me as Mathias and don’t mess things up.”

Propping the heavy wooden door open, the two made their way inside the tavern –looking happier than even the drunkest among these patrons. Taking a few empty seats beside the bar, the Hooded Man raised his hand in slight gesture to the barmaid –who immediately caught wind of him.

“What will it be this time?” The rather hulking woman spoke with a slight brutish tone fitting that of a hardened man.

“Honey and milk for the lady, and a glass of worm-weed on me.” The man forced a sheepish smile, though little of it could be seen behind his hood.

Moments later, the woman from the bar handed them their drinks –along with a key to the upper floor which read “12”.

“It’s on him.” She spoke, her long thick fingers pointing towards the solitary man in the corner.

“Then I suppose we should thank him.” Nodding his head, the Dark Hooded Man looked back to Sariyah and signaled for her to move.

In but a negligible amount of time, she had made her way from the bar to sit at the table of the Arl –sliding the rickety chair back and propping herself atop of it.

“Jared Borkin, I presume.” Though but a whisper, her sweet silky voice could still be heard in the clamorous bar of hooligans.

“If I remember correctly, you have something that belongs to me?”