Kingdom of Tarn » Places

         He kept his cloth wrapped tight around his head, hiding everything but his eyes. Right now, being what he was would only draw attention. Better to play himself off as a shy, secretive individual than what he truly was. And, that was a Venenum, or as most people called his kind, swamp fey. A disgraceful title really, though most would like to be linked to the sun dancing, ground and nature kissing fey. Not his people though. He shook his head, clearing that thought from his mind. Gazing around the bar one more time, he was trying to just...blend in. But with his choice of garb, that wasn't so easy either. Always a tough road for him. He giggled to himself, drawing a few odd stares. However, the eyes were dropped as the one or two onlookers returned to their conversations. Not much was happening around the world that he cared about theses days. He had heard talk of a rebellion, and that had stirred the craving for power that he tried to keep buried deep inside.

In his own tongue, he spat out a curse before speaking aloud to himself. "Bah...Such a boring little hovel of an inn...What must one do to keep things lively...?"

Standing from his corner seat, he arose slowly and made his way to the bar, taking a seat next to an overly flirty, and probably slightly inebriated maiden and a strapping young gent who kept sending her coos and cocky smiles. It had been the only open seat, but he instantly regretted it, now trapped between two boozed up humans who would probably be enacting their disgusting, barbarian way of mating later on that night. With a grunt of disgust, he tried, to little success, to look farther down the bar, and saw an old man arguing with the bar tender. Senile gent probably. He looked like an old war veteran or something. It made a crooked grin break out across his face, then a soft, low cackle. The maiden threw him an odd look, and the man seemed to...back away? Coward probably. Suddenly, they were trying to talk to him, but he shrugged, ignoring them rather pointedly. Soon, he found himself wondering around the pub, looking this way and that, trying to piece together a puzzle of sorts. Why were so many of these people armed? Was this not a place to relax? Last time he had been in the area, it hadn't been particular dangerous or hostile. However, things changed sometimes...

"What an odd place...Its as if some of the men are getting ready for a war..." Then, suddenly, a smile broke out underneath his wraps. A deep, inset smile that made his eyes glow in a rather eerie way. War. Rebellion. The common man. It was coming together, maybe. Just maybe. He could never be sure really, but some things were beginning to make sense about this place. And if this place was a front for an anti-loyalist group, then two options came to mind. Both could promise him what he really desired. He let out a chuckle as he once again took his seat back at the bar, a new seat this time, closer to the old man than before.

"Two options huh? Maybe...I'll see which proves to be more interesting in the end. I'll have to try both out I suppose." He didn't realize he was speaking in the common tongue this time. His accent was deep and heavy, not struggling with the words themselves, but the flow itself was slightly off. He began to hum, inspecting the men with a more discerning eye now. Which ones seemed to have more people around them? Which, if any, had the look of a leader? Did any seem slightly shunned by the others, not out of fear or loathing but respect? He viewed all of this, the insane cunning plan running through his mind causing a twinkle to come to his eye. "Maybe this holiday won't be so terrible after all, hmm?"

         "And what'll will make an average man like me believe what an old stomper says?" The old barkeep yelled, annoyed by the old stomper.

The bar that they were in was an old and ready to fall apart; the floors reeked of old blood and moss, and the customers were also a rowdy bunch ready to throw fists at anyone getting in their way. The bar, Dragon's Keep, was the roughest bars in town, but Leonide found peace here. It reminded him of a greater time where the times were looking nowhere but a great future. The violence that he saw within the walls of this building was more than enough to satisfy any stomper, which was something they loved to see and Leonide yearned for. He wasn't scared of the man, he only studied the way the barkeep spoke his words. The choice of words meant everything for him. It was a skill that he was forced to develop when he was a child, his father told him that studying a man is the best way to get into his heart. This was something he did to all living creatures of the world, no matter how cruel.

"I think simply stating yourself to be an average man says what you know." Leonide replied.

He did his best to gaze into his soul, but his eyes no longer worked the same. They were old and the world around him fuzzed slightly, but this didn't stop him from trying. The barkeep wore a leather vest beneath his tarnished tunic, an obvious sign of a battle-ready man. Still, he didn't want to jump too far into one conclusion knowing that almost any being here would wear at least some protective armor, but this was identified as a hot spot in his eyes. It led him to be more observant of the world around him.

Sitting on his chair, he adjusted the seat to face the direction of the barkeep and placed his left arm on the counter to get even closer. You could think that this would be hard for him because of his small height, but the stool that he was sitting on was long as were all the other stools alongside the counter. He began rubbing his beard as he continued to try to gaze into the mans eyes. Figuring this man out was the easy part, it is a matter of getting the information out. Everyone knew of the rebellion, but no one would speak on the matter fearing that some are secretly working with the evil king. With the previous statement Leonide made, the barkeep answered, "No, it don't!"

Perhaps this was going to be a little harder for Leonide, but he was determined. Nothing was going to stop him from being apart of the rebellion and taking his throne back...even if he was an old stomper, the throne was rightfully his. So it is obvious that he is going to have to change his tactics if this man isn't going to be cooperative. "I guess not, sir."

Leonide kept his eyes open for any possible leads of joining the rebellion, and with the amount of traffic of warriors and fighters here, he knew that someone would eventually give him the information he needs.