Ranger in Green

Log Info

• Title: Ranger in Green
• Emitter: Slixvah
• Characters: Slixvah, Aelwyn
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: December 27th, 2022
• Summary: Slixvah, in her bartender guise, is reviewing a letter as Aelwyn comes in for his shift after a post dinner rush. It's unfortunate she hasn't read it until now, as it was warning of a certain someone coming to check in on her. And that very person slips into the TaRaCe. A green feathered egalrin man, in search of a rust red feathered egalrin. Aelwyn and Slix give him the run around until he heads into the bathhouse.

The TarRaCe, Post-Dinner Rush

The dining room is sparse and in a half mess from the rush. A reprieve from the cold and insular weather begets a busy, busy night at the TarRaCe. And the now is lull after it all, where the staff is fatigued and the pace is languid at best.

One of the staff, a human woman in red suspenders that mans the bar, is sitting at one of the half cleaned tables, one white gloved hand supporting a spectral hand's actions: it dragging a broom across the floor to sweep up.

She's got a half frown on her face, other hand occupied with a letter as she's reading through it. It's lightly crumpled, like it was forgotten at the bottom of a bag.

The door opens to the TarRaCe - not unusual even in the less busy hours, considering the cold wind breezing through the white landscape. Wrapped in a long cloak and with a scarf over their face, the stranger pauses only for a second, before heading over the bar.

And sits straight in front of Slixvah.

Coldness simply wafts off him.

Eventually, the horned stranger moves his red ribboned glaive aside and against the bar. "Interesting read, Red?"

The sharp dressed woman casts a glance up at the person taking a seat in front of her. A flick towards the glaive. Recognition. Then her eyes go back to the letter in hand.

Slixvah sighs, "Dunno. I got a letter a while back, forgot ta read it, as it was delivered when I was hella busy. Apparently some of my fam caught wind I wound up here. And some of 'em are comin'."

She rubs her face. "This'll be greaaaat...." she deadpans.

The 'stranger' tilts his head for a moment, before he begins to undo the scarf. Well, several layers of it. It all gets rolled up and stuffed under his cloak. "Hmmh, not enough time or coin to skip town fast, Ribbon?" Aelwyn asks - and without a sense of mirth. Well, he nearly manages to it.

"This is why one always prepares a little something." More unwrapping of wraps. There's a bit of a collection on the counter soon, as more of his red scales with a dull sheen are exposed. "Then again, Ribbon is too spectacular to manage to stay away from the eager lips for too long." A toothy grin.

Human-Slix sighs, sliding down in her chair some. "I ain't gonna skip town, they're good folk. Just... ain't gonna have time ta prepare."

There's a snort. "Thanks. I like ta think I got a handle on stuff, but I guess I can only go so long without causin' some sort of ruckus."

Speaking of ruckus. The door thuds open.

The cloaked and ruddy sith-makar leans against the counter, toothy smile visible. His tail casually sways behind him, as he tilts his hip. "Tch, and where would be the fun in not causing a ruckus? Her talents would go to waste. How many of them are flying over, anyway? In _this_ weather?"

When the door thuds open, Aelwyn reflexively gazes over the entrance - he is too used to working in the place to not do that. He is also too chilly to not wrap up his cloak more tightly around him.

Slixvah shakes her head, lightly laughing. "Yeah, well, sometimes the talent is to cause a ruckus without being known ya the one causin' it, ya dig? But uh, not that many, I don't think. Last I remember, only about five had their First Flight. Wouldn't surprise me if more could. Though, I'd doubt they'd fly in this storm. Well. Except for-"

The door makes her flinch. She looks. Blinks. Then shoves the letter into her pocket. "- Zanzimar."

A tall, muscular figure ducks under the door frame. Six and a half feet in height, with a plethora of pelts of and cloaks covering them to ward off the winter. Many bolas dangle from a bandolier, and an unstrung bow rests in a scabbard on their hip along with arrows. They shake the snow off them and their large wingspan, dull green and white feathers melding with the dim lighting. He ambles deeper into the establishment, slinking towards the bar.

Slixvah buries her attention at sweeping the floor with her mage hand.

Aelwyn tilts his head curiously - well, slightly upwards - as the new figure steps in. Normally he perhaps would not have paid much mind, but something about this particular stranger just struck him. Beyond the fact that the person was a massive egalrin.

"News travel fast in this part of town." Aelwyn rumbles with a low voice, barely tilting his head to quietly add to Slixvah. "... and this one hopes he is not planning to kill anyone." The sith-makar's coils around the nearby stool.

A moment later, it falls over and clatters the way of the large winged egalrin. "Apologies, Ranger." The ruddy sith-makar stands, and he bows his head. "Foot slipped."

Slixvah hisses back to him, quiet. "He won't, but don't try anything stup- hey wha-" <Draconic>

The large egalrin stops at the clatter, bright blue eyes cutting in a squint down at the offending furniture. Then to the makari and the human woman. "... of course," he replies cordially, tone a bassy whistle. He bends over, sets the stool upright, and scoots it back towards the table. "Clear skies and blessed winds of Ceiwen upon you two."

He folds his hands behind his back. Wings folding in tight. "I have inquiries to make, and offer ale-coin in return, if you are interested," he says to Aelwyn.

Slixvah has fallen silent.

"And may the skies grace Ranger's wings," Aelwyn responds, already extremely impressed by the egalrin. "Though this one can tell they already have." The (smaller) sith-makar gestures and grimaces - or grins. As far as it counts as a grin on his blunt snout that had discarded the polite, common sense.

Loosening up his cloak some, he crosses his arms across his bared chest, looking up at the very proper looking set of wings. "This one has very rarely turn away a fair barter," He bows his head. "And what information is Ranger so thirsty for, that he has to come to a tavern to slake it?"

The green feathered egalrin bows their head. "Thank you," he politely mentions, fishing out a gold coin and putting it on the table. "I am looking for an egalrin woman: about this tall, red and white-" he motions. "Terrible fashion sense. Goes by Slixvah?"

The human at the table squints in annoyance.

Aelwyn glances at the coin, then back up at the egalrin. There's a bit of a huff from him - perhaps because he had to strain his neck back a touch. "A big coin for a woman with a terrible fashion sense." He mentions, feeling no incentive at picking up the coin.

Turning around on his place, he flashes a showy row of teeth at the human behind the bar. "Must have done terrible things, or be utterly debauched in the way of the garb, Red."

Returning his attention over the large egalrin, he tilts his head. Moment later, he fetches out a silver out from his own pocket. "And why does Ranger wish to find this woman?" A pause. "Coin for the answer." Silver is offered.

The well dressed woman takes a long breath. "Why yes, of course. They must have such terrible fashion taste that they're being hunted down." She starts sweeping harder.

The ranger quirks a feathered brow, beak idly clacking at the silver coin. "Very well. She has failed to relay her condition for some time, and I am here personally to investigate," he answers, plucking the coin between two fingers and stashing it into a pocket. And then it rests on his own coin. "Have you any information, land-brother?"

"Hmmh, this one suspects people get hunted for less." Aelwyn responds, offering up the coin by the tips of his fingers. "Relay her condition. One can hope the condition is not fatal." He opens up his mouth and gives his teeth a faint click.

As the coin gets pointed out, the ruddy sith-makar looks down at it, apparently in thought. Was he? After a moment, he raises his head. "Has the sky-brother had a proper drink in a while?" A tilt of his head. "It must be wearing to fly in this cold."

The draconian taps his hand against the counter and whoop, two coins between his fingers. "Not to mention the baths are warm." A very wide grin.

The Ranger's amiable gaze begins to border on a glare. "It is wearing, and I would enjoy time to rest, but seeing as the last time I heard, her wing was snapped. So I would /appreciate/ you, land-brother, if you could inform me that you do or do not know anything, it would save both of us time-"

The bartender clears her throat. "Oi. Play nice or I'm kicking your feathered ass out."

He glances to the barkeep. Takes a breath. Then slowly exhales. "Please."

Aelwyn twists his lip, narrowing his orange slit pupils some. "Hmmh." He puts away the coins from his fingers, and then spreads his hands. "This one works for the tavern - what can he do nothing but offer its services?" He flicks out his forked tongue, flicking it up and down.

The draconian may have also let his eye wander.

Eventually though, the ruddy sith-makar leans back against the counter and takes in a deep breath. "The egalrin woman comes to the baths frequently. Good for the wings, this one hears." Toothy grin towards the side. "Perhaps Ranger would like to relax his wings, stretch out the legs?" The draconian glances over towards the human bartender, tilting his head. "Nothing lost but a bit of coin and cold air while waiting."

The Ranger's attention sharpens. "You work here?" He's focusing. Uncaring of the wandering gaze. Then- answers. Another gold coin joins the first. "She goes to the baths? Good for the wings? It sounds as if she recovered. Or is..." A hand rests on the underside of his beak. Ponders. Then shakes his head. "-it matters not. I'd need more information to confirm that-"

The bartender cuts in. "-Yeah. Comes in occasionally. But for real, go try the baths out, man. You're stressin."

The ranger perks at this. Squints at the bartender.

The Bartender fidgets under the counter with a glass.

A long sigh leaves him. "Very well. I'll partake," he concedes. "Show me, if you would be so kind?" he inquires to Aelwyn.

Aelwyn bows his head. "It would be this one's pleasure." The sith-makar responds. The coin is taken off the counter, spun around his hand, before he offers the coin over to the bartender. "If every day this one would receive such a tip." He flicks his tongue at 'Red', tilting his head.

Turning, the sith bows his head at the large egalrin and gestures towards the far end where the baths are. "Ranger can stand by the table there, this one will be there in a moment." Aelwyn gives his cloak a lift and a shake. "A cold cloak is not welcome in the baths." He rumbles with a grin.

The bartender takes the coin and pockets it swiftly as she rolls her eyes. "I'm pretty sure you get that kind of tips all the time."

The ranger looks over to where Aelwyn was indicating. "Very well," he sighs, glancing down at his own cloak. With a shrug, he sloughs off the warm wear only to fold it in his hold. Blinks at Aelwyn, then looks over to the bartender. "... is this the usual?"

Totally-not-Slixvah waves him off. "You get used to it. If he acts a fool, smack him."

The ranger slowly nods, ambling towards the table indicated. "I see. Show me then, bath-tender."

Aelwyn rolls his eyes towards the barkeep. "A heart left broken, Red, but at least her smacks keep it beating." The draconian responds, and waits for the larger egalrin to step away. Leaning over the bar, he glances at the definitely Slixvah. "... a hatch that seemed to have brought plenty of bountiful wings."

Yet he walks around the top, peeling off his own cloak and other miscellania, stashing him. "Is _that_ normal?" Aelwyn quietly asks as he steps around Red, jerking his head over the large egalrin. "... beyond the wings. Those are abnormal."

Again, Red rolls her eyes. Her too waiting for the large egalrin to step away. And out of the room as the Ranger has started to investigate the doorway into the bathhouse. "He's the biggest," she answers flatly. "And the biggest worry wort."

She rubs her face. "... yes, it's normal. I should have read that damn letter. Now he's going to tear the city apart looking for me. Don't get me wrong, I love all thirteen of my siblings. Some of them...-"

There's a splash in the bathhouse.

"... are a handful. Keep an eye on him. I'm gonna get out of my shift to get ready for later. Please don't try and sleep with my brother."

With that, she tosses the gold coin back to Aelwyn before her form wavers and there's a half-oruch woman in her place. "Catch you later."

She briskly exits.

-End Scene-