Three Warriors (and a mage)

"Regrets? No! Not on that matter. Well maybe sometimes these flimsy chairs are too flimsy." remarks Arngrim as he reaches down and plucks up a vacant seat using two fingers to pinch at the back of the chair. "I often require multiple seats as a result! But it is what it is. Like the humans, we can vary quite abit in size!"

True to his comment, he scoops up three chairs with a sweeping gesture and then plants his body into it..still managing to loom larger then the bar itself and Iskandar despite being seated now. He leans forward onto the counter, creaking it loudly under his bulk, "I am thinking that you probably do well enough for yourself though. Enjoy being able to get through doors easier then I. I can be a pain!"

The door swings open quietly and in steps a delicate woman of clearly elvish descent. It's there in how incredibly fine her features are, how small her frame. She's wearing a lovely dress in an odd shade of red, and as she moves into the room her black and pink hair bobs behind her as its freed from the confines of the winter cloak she's wearing against the chill outside. She... definitely stands out in this rowdy place, but she hardly gives it more than a second glance before making her way straight over to the fireplace. Once there she sticks out her hands and lets out a pleased sigh that her fingers are finally getting warmer.

Iskandar nods. He sets down his goblet, wipes his now-free hand against the leather back of his own bracer - the part of his attire closest to fabric - and then thrusts it out towards Arngrim for a warrior's hand-clasp. "Greetings! My name is Iskandar!"

Azog calls out a "Hello!" in greeting, and will approach the two giants by the bar. His cloak, covered with ice and snow, quickly begins to melt.

The warmth of the hearth soon settles in and after a moment of relaxation the woman by the fire seems to take note of where she is. She blinks once, then twice. Then settles herself and makes her way to the bar. Which is... occupied. Very occupied by the huge warriors who are seated before it. It's an arrangement of monstrous proportions if one is talking in the way of musculature. She blinks again, but with a small gesture over her skirts she makes her way to a portion of the bar which she can settle in herself. Thankfully being small is in this instance a blessing because she finds one against all odds. There she lifts a hand to the barkeep. "Wine?" She asks politely but gets a look in response that clearly suggests that wine is not an appropriate request. "Something to drink will do nicely."

Iskandar follows Arngrim's gaze to Azog and - at the other giantborn's words - takes in the heavy armor. Then he looks at Auranar. He shoots a look at Arngrim, disbelief tinged with what might be affection. "Well, even a place like this can change over time." He turns towards the bartender and adds, "What seems the problem? Don't tell me -this-," he pats the amphora on the counter in front of him, "-is all the wine to be found in this tavern?"

Azog smiles as Arngrim introduces him, and says, "We'll have a rematch any time you're ready," he replies. "But you'll have to grow stronger faster than I do." He nods gravely. He watches Auranar approach the bar curiously, such an odd sight in a place like this. He peers, puzzled at Iskandar and says, "It probably -is- the only wine, if you say it's actually wine. Normally it's cat's piss or worse, around here."

The behemoth sputters abit at Azog's words, as if trying to figure out which way to lean in terms of agressiveness. Friendly or mildly perturbed. He opts for a mixture of the two with a strained smile.

"I will admit a mistake and under estimating you! But I am not without skill. The Fates like to toy with me though. Perhaps a different type of contest is in order, hmm?" He leans forward, looming at the orc. One sequoia leaning into another until he registers the request made by the elf maid and Iskandar’s own reaction, "Oooh..yes this place has indeed changed. Cleaned up. Hmm..there was once a pub called Fernwood. Good wine there, I think."

The barkeep relents, getting some of the wine that Iskandar has for the elvish woman and she flashes him a warm thankful smile. "Thank you. This place is not what I expected when it was recommended to me." She glances around as though to make sure that she is in the right place and then offers a delicate shrug. "It seems... interesting here though." She looks at Arngrim and blinks at him. She's easily half his size if not less so.

"I was told that this is where adventurer's drink, so I came here. You do all look to be the adventurous sort. If you do not mind my saying so."

Iskandar nods in recognition when Arngrim mentions The Fernwood. Then he looks positively delighted when Auranar mentions adventurers. "Well spoken!" He raises his goblet in a vague toasting motion. Then he shoots a look at the bartender and gestures with the goblet towards Auranar, sort of a 'what are you waiting for' expression on his face. But his displeasure vanishes a moment later and he looks at his fellow giant born again. "Yes, I have been to the Fernwood. A good walk from here though. And if I am in that part of the city I find myself drawn to the colosseum and the taverns in that area. Or the Fire Lodge."

Azog will definitely agree that the Fernwood has good wine. "But their attitude sometimes grates." It can get a bit stuffy there. He smirks as Arngrim takes his challenge askance, or slightly askance, and asks, almost tauntingly, "So, you are /afraid/ of competition?" Which almost no one in the city would ask someone standing eight and a half feet tall. Azog, himself, thrives on the competition, and there's nothing personal behind it. But he's not going to roll over just to play nice. That's not how competition works. "Rivals make you stronger because they force you to keep constantly improving." That's a bit of philosophy from the monastery where he learned swordplay, not from the Temple of Angoron, but he seems to embody that philosophy. He nods simply to Auranar and says, "I often work for the guild, so yes, I am an adventurer. You wish to hear tales of great feats of prowess?"

"I am indeed an adventurer!" bellows Arngrim with his bass voice vibrating the glassware nearby. His muscles literally creak. Sinew pushing and pulling and bulking up with a sound like leather stretching as he proudly slaps a palm the size of a mans back onto a pectoral mass. "And...I drink everywhere! But you have been told correctly. There was once another place..but..I think the guild has relocated from that place since I was last here..."

His voice trails off as he hears Azog and the taunt and his eyes seem to become pinprick like before he gives a tight grin and leers back at the Orc,

"Afraid of competition and rivalry? Now why would you presume that?? I will have to do something to set your perceptions correct and on the right path!"

It is clear to Auranar that the two men beside her are gearing up into a rivalry, so rather than watch them come together like two thunderheads with her in such close proximity she offers her hand between them to shake. "I am Auranar. An acolyte of magic, and it is a pleasure to meet you both. If you would feel so inclined as to regail me, I would appreciate it." She smiles, and if one were paying attention they might notice that the smile is a little bit thin. Hard to tell why that is though given that she doesn't explain her expressions. "I have been told that if I want to advance my learning that I must do so by joining adventurers such as yourselves on your embarkments."

Azog nods gravely to Arngrim, and he seems pleased to have elicited the reaction he did. "That is good to hear, then," he agrees. "I will meet you any time that you like." He looks down at Auranar, and when she describes herself as an acolyte of magic, he hrmphs a bit. In any event, he's not planning on throwing down here; he and Arngrim already know each other, and know where they can meet to throw down whenever they care to. But you can't back down from a challenge, that'd be dishonorable. "Well," he says, "It's true that even wizards and priests go on adventures with the guild to train and grow stronger. Learning that way is much better than learning out of a book. If your learning is faulty, you get killed, so it's trial by fire." Something he apparently approves of.

The biggest brute gives Azog another wild eyed grin but then turns his attention to the elf magic user as he hears her. He inclines his head, listening to Azog and then he rumbles, "Practical application, yes! I mean..if you wish to study magic as a scholar..that is one thing but if you wish to put it to use out in the world...you should be around others. Of course..there is the life risking factor.." Arngrim wrinkles his nose as he thinks on this and then adds, "But the life of an 'adventurer' is one of risk taking for great reward!" He leans forward to peer at Auranar more closely now. Once more akin to a Sequioa save one leaning over to study a much more normal tree. "So you are looking for adventure then? Mercenary work?"

"I had no idea that it was so... dangerous." She peers up at them both and in total honesty doesn't look like she's at all prepared the least bit for an adventure. Particularly given her words, but she's given a glass of wine by the barkeep and she settles into her stool comfortably enough and doesn't seem intimidated by any of the very large men that she's surrounded by. So maybe that's something. "In truth I do not seek adventure or mercenary work, but rather advancement in my field of study which... I am told I will gain only by spending my time helping those who are going out into the missions which the Guild offers."

She smiles softly. "I doubt that there is any mercenary group willing to take someone such as myself in any case."

Azog considers Auranar's words, and says, "Perhaps not a /mercenary/ group, no. They typically only hire those who fight with steel. But if you join the Adventurers' Guild and hire out with them, you will learn your craft quite fast. Faster than sitting back here and studying, to be sure. I suppose technically the Guild -is- a mercenary group, but it's a bit different as well. Do not let the risk of death deter you! It comes for us all, in time, and just because it reaches out, you do not have to let it take you."

"Mercenary groups employ those who practice The Arts." corrects Arngrim, "It is necessary because there are many things in the world that require that sort of understanding to navigate. A mercenary guild or team would be unwise to not involve those with that talent and cultivate them as needed."

The brute nods his head firmly, speaking it seems, more from experience then actually understanding The Arcane himself. "I am thinking that your mentor simply wants you to have practical application of your abilities. If you use your powers to support others and learn about the world..you will gain strength rapidly. Yes? You are an elf-maid! Certainly this is in practice by your people..:

The woman stills in her seat and glances away at Arngrim's words, her eyes falling on the warm fire that she had been beside only a moment ago. "I would not know what is in practice by my people. I was raised here in Alexandria. In an orphanage." She politely coughs and turns her gaze back to the two men. "I am certain you are right though, magic needs a practical application to be of use, and I do want to be useful."

Azog arches a brow at Arngrim, but shrugs. "You have known different mercenaries than I did. But it may be that wizards and priests only allow the wealthier groups to hire them? Magic is at a premium, it seems. Or swords are undervalued." He doesn't take issue with being raised in Alexandria, or in an orphanage, instead saying, "If you maintain a stout heart, and persevere, you will do well. The fight is not always won by the strongest." Though often it is, truth be told. "But, the last man standing may always claim victory."

"On the matter of costs, I don't know.." adds Arngrim after listening to Azogs response. He then turns his head towards the woman while beginning to push up from his chairs and tower back up to his full height, "But he speaks correct! Be bold. Be brave. You will learn much and find what you are seeking. Your place of origin doesn't matter as much what you choose to do with yourself." He grins again an turns, "And now? I must leave. We will meet again!" Heavy footsteps begin to take him back to the door.

A small twinkling like a bell echoes beside Auranar's head and the woman straightens, looking to that side briefly and then flushing. "It seems that I must go as well. I am glad to have met you, may the days find you in good stead until we meet again." She offers this to Azog before disembarking from her stool and heading out the same way that Arngrim went.

-End