The Fallen Against the Demon,... [ENDED]

[Feljäger]

((PG-13))
((For want of any other rating and to allow for profanity as desired.))

The Fallen Against the Demon, Part One: The Fallen Descends.


Night gently lay her cloak over the massive city of Stormwind, bringing with it a rather clear and starlit sky and also a cold comfort for a people caught in the grips of an unseasonably early winter, but excuse enough for many of the working class and military citizens of the human capital to seek the warmth to be found at the bottom of a tankard of ale. The taverns of the city were always full on such evenings. Times between wars, when the population swelled with soldiers returned from distant shores, mercenaries that were now freed to seek other employments, and those that knew that those with money in their purses and alcohol clouding their judgement were more likely to be separated from their coin.

The Blue Recluse was often one of the more boisterous and lively of locations on such evenings. Wizards and spell casters, students and teachers at the prestigious Stormwind University, were notorious for their raucous behaviors on the last evening of a work or school week. Such was this night and the faculty and student body of the Academy were hardly want to let another opportunity to entertain wild festivities pass without the siren call of jocularity being heeded. Ale and spirits were flowing, voices and songs were raised in an often off-key choir of hedonistic brevity, and there was even a gnome female with hair as pink as a sunset sky that was swinging haphazardly from the chandelier.

Fellen didn’t stir the crowd too much when he entered but his very presence immediately demanded a quickly cast eye from a large number of the still modestly sober patrons. There were at least three death knights in the tavern, and assuredly a number of warlocks as he could already smell the taint of the Fel drifting cautiously through the air, but no other demon hunters. His presence always drew some attention but he didn’t give it a mind, as he wasn’t here to make a scene and he didn’t particularly care what others thought. He even managed to ignore the hidden undercurrents of demonic energies that surged to life at his proximity, as the Fel knew his ilk and like a prey species would, at the introduction of a wolf to the cage, be prepared for his attack. The warlocks those demonic beings were attached too didn’t react as viscerally as the hidden agents of the Legion, but perhaps they didn’t recognize the predator as he entered, perhaps they didn’t care, and perhaps they realized that only the foolish demon hunter walked into the den of his prey with such lack of care. Fellen Demonhunter was not a “demon slayer” per se, although that was a part of his profession, he was a hunter of the Fel. A hunter stalked and killed swiftly. A hunter did not announce his presence to make his foe feel fear, a hunter did not cast aside years of experience and training to walk blithely into sight of his prey.

Fellen strode slowly, purposefully, in his rigidly straight gait that still allowed his arms to swing casually and his legs to bend in ways that made the limbs seem a fraction too long and the motion a margin too lazy, straight to the bar. Crossing the main floor of the taven, through the crowd that tended to let him pass while pretending not to notice an Illidari was among them, and ordering a cup of mead.

The bar keep, a slighter lass of a female that only tended the bar when the night was decidedly full, looked at the seven foot tall elf with dark violet skin, horns, and tattoos that almost seemed to crackle with green motes of electricity and felt slightly stymied. An elf of his size never ordered a “cup” of anything. Tankards were their smallest order as their large hands made even that size of beverage seem puny. They did not carry elf sized "cups" by basic definition, so she was singularly confused by the order.

“A... cup, sir?” she asked somewhat meekly. If not for his ears and the natural levels of elvish auditory senses he might have lost her query in the din of the establishment.

He smiled down at her, noticing that the regular bartender was now studying the exchange cautiously, and canted his head lightly toward his right shoulder.

“Yes, child. A cup. You do have cups, do you not?”

His voice oozed with contempt for the common language but was still said politely enough and with his smile it may have passed for being anything other than wholly insulting.

Joachim Brenlow stirred softly but was not yet prepared to intrude. The girl had to learn to handle herself against any patrons that stepped up to the bar.

She blanched for a moment and then steeled herself and responded curtly.

“We do. Would that be Thunderbelly or Northrend honey mead, sir?”

Fellen chuckled softly and smirked at her, the expression more than a little snarky and lightly sprinkled with either contempt or desire, the extent hard to determine by virtue of the demonically cast face that bore it.

“Whatever this will purchase,” he replied and lay a single silver coin before her.

She regarded the coin carefully and nodded. Hardly sufficient for the expensive Thunderbelly but ample for the alternative.

“That will buy you two cups, sir, or I can give you the fifty copper change,” she said as she waited for his response regarding the transaction.

((paused for potential opportunity for someone <Kat> to buy him the drink or mayhap upgrade it))

((Fellen's character description.))

[Feljäger]

((Hmm... tested the character thread link but apparently it's been too long since I used Proboards as it doesn't link to Fellen's profile correctly. Tried to edit but, alas, can't seem to do that either. So either it has been too long since I used this interface or I cannot edit as a guest.))

[Shari'Adune Forestsong]

Jan 16, 2018 17:15:54 GMT -5 Feljäger said:

((Hmm... tested the character thread link but apparently it's been too long since I used Proboards as it doesn't link to Fellen's profile correctly. Tried to edit but, alas, can't seem to do that either. So either it has been too long since I used this interface or I cannot edit as a guest.))

((The editing isn't your fault! Sadly guests cannot edit their works. BUT i did edit it for you. And for clarification, can anyone join this thread? Is it open to everyone or just Kat?))

[Feljäger]

((Totally open! I thought the default for any thread was OPEN unless specifically listed as CLOSED. I'm here for the RP and that means with anyone. Please feel free to hop in. Anyone. EVERYONE! The more the merrier.))

*Grimun looks up at the sign of the Recluse*

So the tavern of the spell chuckers is the new gathering place for wayward travelers

*Shakes his head in slow motions*

Pfft seems S*%t has gone soft

*his mind wonders of past memories of the Cats running rampant in the Pig and Whistle, A small smile crosses his lips at the thought, tilting his head to the right slightly gives a light shrug and enters the tavern*

So be it

*As he makes his way into the inn he stops at the banister, stops briefly to look around the tavern, takes in the number of Deaders and Felsucking casters (in his head "great the sh*ttest of the sh*t*) then his gaze falls upon the Feljager*

Hmpfh

*he backs up until his back is against the wall. gently places his weight against the wall, raising his left foot for an additional balance. Pulls upon the tabbard showing off the grinning skull, sucks his teeth as he keeps constant look out on the inn*

Though Karrii likes to pretend she's a winter-hardened survival veteran, the blizzards outside the castle walls this time of year have ushered in a new world of cold she isn't quite used to. It drives her to seek shelter indoors, relying on cheap inns and quick-talking bartenders for relief from the ever-piercing snows.

Though the cities never particularly beckon to her, this exact situation is not one she'd ever been want to find herself in, and she bites her lip. Never one for crowded spaces, Karrii hates the fact she's dragged herself in tonight, especially with the loud voices echoing from hardwood walls coupled with the all-around 'Party' atmosphere.

Already on edge from the noticeably absent presence of her once loyal puppy companion, the entrance of the tall male nearly sends Karrii back into the cold. The exchange does nothing to set her mind at ease, and she nervously tuggs on her tabard, using it to cover her knees while she downs the pint of ale she's been sipping on all night.

Surely there was no reason for her to remain. Until, of course, Grim steps in. Grim, in all of his human-ness, is too close to the door for Karrii to make an unnoticed retreat, so she stays firmly in place, glowering at the bottom of her tankard.

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

Through the taverns boisterous noises, a particular noisy female voice would have ebbed its way across the various patrons’ ears causing perhaps an unconscious notable recognition to Karrii, and even Grimun who was much further away from the source. It came from high up, its occasional tone and pitch carrying it even higher somehow, snaking through the air like a dark ink through warm water. The laughter was like a roller coaster, hinting how intoxicated the imbiber was, a low throaty purring chuckle, stumbling through at times to a nerve grating cackle that demanded attention in its own right.

The woman's voice and laughter began to move, the unseen energy she naturally exuded from her core shining brightly, confidently, unhindered from the booze. It was as if anyone who could hear her was caught in a growing wave, her force pulling small grains off attention, greedily claiming more and more until finally the source was placed to a curvaceous human red-head at the top of the right stair case ((if you were facing the exit)), who had inserted herself between a group of four male and one female young mages still clad in their scholarly uniforms. Two of the males had arms looped around her waist while the others in the group were pawing at her and crooning plaintively.

"Aw guys! Ye need to let me go!" Through the chorus of audible disappointment she continued shaking her head and grinning, "Parting is such sweet sorrow n all that-" she paused to laugh and take a hearty swig of ale from her mug, smacking her lips and hissing before she continued, blinking somewhat blearily, "-sh*t! Tis been a great time of course, maybe next time Stella ye can show me that 'special' spell ye were telling me about hmmn?" The woman winked lasciviously at the young mage female, who laughed and offered an eager nod.

By now, she would have garnered Grimun's attention as she disengaged herself from her personal escort squad with a well-practiced twist of her hips and turn of her body, a right hand sliding down the backside of one of the males to firmly grab an ass cheek before she was making her way down the stairs, the adventurous hand lightly sliding along the railing as if it were someone’s arm. Her fingers drew little circles along the banister as she descended at no great hurry, her fiery amber eyes scanning the room for a new potential source of amusement. The grinning skull tabard she wore stretched snugly across her large chest, her well-worn black leather pants hugging her muscular legs.


She was a huntress, stalking in plain sight, capturing the gazes of many with nary a word- for the most part.... since there soon came many words, all loud and laced heavily with her dwarven accent hinting exactly how many she had, as if booze were weights, pulling it from her throat. The more she had the heavier the weights grew.

Glancing curiously at the gnome swinging from the chandelier she cackled and pointed a wavy circle in the air at the little thing, "Who punted the gnome!?"

Inhaling a deep lungful of air she offered a wide toothy smile to the room, "Ahhh fine people of Stormwind!"she began raising her voice, hoisting her mug into the air tracing a somewhat crooked line, "How are we all tonight!?" There was a loud cheering and raising of mugs as complete strangers were eager to share in any outward drunken anarchism. "f*ck YEAH!" she screamed shaking her mug, showering it's very strong (indiscernible) drink over those below, some drops pattering onto Karrii's arm, others even splooshing over the lone demon hunter.

"HEY GRIM!" she waved toward her fellow tabard wearing male friend and colleague near the far end of the bar. "How the f*ck are ye!?" Her eyes swept from the bearded male and sampled the rest of the bar. Many more people had come in since she had first arrived and parked herself upstairs with her newly acquainted drinking crew.

It was then she noticed- the hard to miss- demon hunter. Halfway down the stairs she stopped in mid stride and raised a perfectly arched brow slowly. ~Well, well well...~ she murmured to herself, her amber orbs devouring the sight of him. Demon hunters were so unique.... each one baring its own brands, tattoos, horns, and other accents. This one... She grinned. This one had a passion for piercings as she did- which she concluded just from seeing his ears from where she was his face still a jewel to unveil.

The energy he was exuding had latched onto her, drawing her interest as if it were a dark spider that had shot her with a lasso web.

“Some warlock lost their PET it seems!” she jeered loudly, her attention heavy upon Fellen now as she continued her journey down the stairs, each step now causing her hips to roll from side to side like a broken line backer breaking through the lines. She smirked and jerked her chin upward haughtily, narrowing her eyes as she flipped a lock of burning red off her shoulder and canted her head to the side.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs she once again stopped dead and comically turned her head to the side her eyes locking on Karrii, catching her like a deer in the head-lights. Turning on her heel Kat laughed boisterously and headed toward the young woman. When she reached her table Kat slammed her mug- and her hand down upon the table jarring the candle that was there. “Well f*ck me sideways and call me a f*cking orc. IT’S MOUSE!!” Her spine took on a delicious curve as she dropped her elbows upon the table and pressed her knuckles under her jaw, leering at Karrii eagerly. As she stood there her ass swayed from side to side with drunken airs and naughty whispers.

[Feljäger]

Fellen regarded the tavern wench with bared amusement, his canine teeth clearly exposed as his grin flickers in the lantern light that bathes the entire room in a dancing, yellow tinged illumination. The glowering orbs of burning green that were plainly visible from behind the black rune cloth that banded his face and covered his empty eye sockets seemed to have pupils as Leslie Dandred-Pierce knew, without question in her heart or mind, that the demon hunter was staring at her. Perhaps even through her, so intense was that almost withering stare. Yet she dared the gaze and ignored the clamor of the tavern as she waited for the transaction to be finalized. It caused the massive barreled chest of the heavily adorned elf to heave in a laugh as he reached long claw-like fingers into the back of his left reinforced leather bracer to withdraw a gold piece and lay it gently alongside the silver coin of payment.

“Delightful,” the slightly hoarse voice rumbled with the tailing end of his subdued laughter. “Give me the two cups and take the gold as payment in full for standing before the face of corruption and being resolute in your vocation, and amusing me greatly.”

Joachim Brenlow eased down from his tension and returned his full attention to the numerous patrons that were vying for his attention and the acquisition of a new drink. Leslie didn’t quite know what to make of that but the grin the creature with distinctly demonic features gave her, though it may have been alluring and playful on another face, was just disturbing and creepy when it came from him. Thus she took the coin, her tip, and swiftly turned to provide the order and be done with the transaction.

Boisterous laughter, louder than the rest, commanding with the tambor of a pounding bass drum in a symphony of jingling bells, parted the sea of conversations and drew every ear including the sharp auditory senses of the demon hunter at the bar. Fellen didn’t immediately turn his head but the statements that slammed through the waves of the spoken sea became punctuated by heavy and intent footsteps, thrumming like the marching band preceding a human army, alerting him to the fact the source was descending.

Those glowing green “eyes” turned, and though many of his ilk cloud easily look where they wished without immediately alerting the attention to the focal point of their magical gaze, and cast his bale hued gaze upon the vivacious and curvaceous female. She called to the throng and the throng responded and Fellen smirked wider, as he turned his back to the bar and pressed the base of his rump against the edge to lean there and watch.

She looked to him and both predators locked eyes for a moment. Like always knows its own and sexual predators of any form recognize another of the ilk. She stopped and studied him and his obvious gaze panned down across her like visual hands before caressing their way back up. Heavily pierced and scarred in places that makes a practitioner of body modification note that several seem intentionally located, and likely self inflicted. He flicked the ring in his lower lip from the inside, making the ornament flash side to side as his eyes groped her. He seldom found humans appealing, too small and flimsy for most elves and especially for one with a skin hardened with scales taken from fel-born origins, but this particular specimen of a female could not easily be denied as an object of fascination. It roused the predator within any warned that the wise stalker needed to watch her, as she was also on the prowl. She was as a fel hound. Hunting the shadows with lightning reflexes and a mouth of daggers that would be happy to rend flesh as easily as she broke hearts.

She chided him with a remark about a warlock losing HIM as a pet, challenge extended, and his smirk curled into a wide smile, with the left edge curling slightly as if almost a snarl. His eyes narrowing and his head dipping, lowering his horns as if he was preparing for a bull rush. Challenge accepted.

Her gait changed as she continued to descend the steps, their attention fixated, as the hunting animal doesn’t turn attention from chosen prey, and he manipulated his lip ring again as his smile nearly beamed with what could well be seen as a dangerous kind of amusement. However distractions happened and the object of his predatory focus shifted her intent and moved to harass a figure he wouldn’t have even given a second glance at otherwise.

‘Mouse’ the predator called the waif of a female. Fellen couldn’t assume it was merely a nickname as the object of the moniker certainly had the characteristics. Thin to nearly the point of emaciation, small even by human standards, with a face too long and sharp to warrant any other descriptor than conjuring up the image of a rodent. He would liken her more to a rat himself, as there was always an aspect of the wary when one dared to immediately dismiss the threat of another based on an impression of weakness. Mouse she may be but Fellen seriously doubted a human could be that small and live to adulthood, in a world as uniformly violent and dangerous as Azeroth, unless she had teeth and the skills to employ them.

He spent naught but a moment considering the diminutive solitary female at the table. The curves of the predator were now, clearly, on display for his eyes. She had all but issued a verbal invitation as she lowered her torso to the surface of the table while swaying full hips and a rounded rump behind her. Her words bobbled with hints of inebriation but he didn’t let that distract him. Predators played games of deception all the time, it was a means to get close enough to prey to take launch the attack, and it was often employed as a lure. A trap.

Fellen felt a nudge at his right hand, still planted firmly on the bar top, and looked down to see the pair of small, thick sided porcelain cups containing the golden hued beverage. He nodded to the human serving wench and she looked up at him and noted where he had been looking.

“No offense, sir,” she chimed in as she turned to attend to other patrons. “But I don’t know if you can handle her.”

Fellen laughed again and took up one of the cups as he returned to watching the show for a moment. The normal sized coffee cup, for a human, he held like it was child's table ware as he sipped the mead and let bale green eyes ravish the female posted across the table in front of the ‘Mouse’. Dark visions passed through a darker mind and almost played out in the pulsating glare of a seething fel green gaze. The loop in his lower lip snapping side to side and the tips of pale white fangs glistening from underneath the upper violet lip.

He looked to the trap, a playful invitation to take a savory hip in each hand and dry hump the upturned tail, and wondered what drunken human reveler wouldn’t recognize the fact that those that were not welcome would draw back stumps where hands used to be.

*He watches as Kat as she leaves the group of males and the one odd female, He watches as her heavy breast jiggle beneath the grinning skull as she moves down the stairs, At first he makes no sound just watches. As her eyes spy him and say his name, He gives sly grin and nods*

I am well Lady

*As she shouts out in Karrir direction, the first time noticing the little one, he pushes off the wall and starts to stroll towards the pair, As Kat mentions that a warlock had lost its pet his eyes dart to the Demon Hunter*

Nah that one dont have Tits

*He keeps his stroll not missing a beat, but never taking his eyes off the hunter*

Though she hasn't been exposed to the Cats for long, Karrii is all-too familiar with the leader's outgoing personality, and can appreciate her enthusiasm-

Most nights.

Kat, in Karrii's most humble opinion, is boisterous, protective, and disarmingly flirty and attractive. It'd take a man of some renown to hunt her down naturally, while plain-looking Karrii sits downstairs and sips at her beer. Man-hunting has never been her forte, and after coming from a family of twenty-plus siblings, she's never been forced to learn how to woo or be wooed either.

Which is why she doesn't think anything of the awkwardly sexual position Kat has put herself in, and offers a smile. "Hey Kat." she half-whispers, nervous from the attention Kat dragged into her lonely, dark corner. "You shouldn't poke bears yknow." she suggests, catching her mug as the table shifts from the sudden change of pressure on its top.

Her eye is still ferociously bruised, purple marks surrounding the orbit and trailing down her cheek towards her nose, but at least it's no longer swollen. It gives her the unfortunate look of being particularly low and upset, which isn't helped by her actual subtly frustrated expression. With Kat here there was definitely no way she could sneak out of the inn without at least humoring the woman first, especially now that she's summoned Grim as well.

Still, she leans back in her seat, comforted by the presence of a long, single-barreled shotgun with the stock wrapped in a deep, navy ribbon cutting into her spine and shoulders. While others of the Cats don't find it necessary to wear armor and weapons into the city, Karrii has been in the wilds for too long to feel comfortable without these objects.

Her armor in hues of dark red and dark grey fit her body in what looks to be an uncomfortable fashion. Her chestpeice is too big, her leggards are too large at the hips, but her gloves are ripping at the seams, lacking any sort of fingertips. Unlike others that frequent the inn, Karrii's dark skin can only be seen from the neck up and the knuckles down. What can be seen is uncharacteristically clean.

"Do you have a room here?" Karrii questions, tilting her head, and allowing her gaze to flick behind the woman's shoulder, to the peering demon hunter. His consistent... stare? ('Could it be considered staring? They don't have eyes!' she thinks to herself.) Whatever it is, it puts her immensely on edge, as does watching the lips of the bartender speaking to him.

A hand extends across the table, pressing gently on top of Kat's. "That elf keeps watching you." she murmurs low, appearing concerned. "He looks like bad news."

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

If Grimun had begun to follow her or not she didn’t notice. There was too much about her to take in. Faces and bodies and that demon hunter.

He dipped his horns at her and she took a deep breath, amber eyes narrowing to watch him through her lashes and pulled her shoulders back to give him a nice show as her spine moved like a cold snake. Predators locked in their own unique dance.

Yes indeed he was quite the specimen of his kind. Since the race of demon hunters had arrived Kat had not yet had the chance to…explore…them. This one at the bar however, he was different from others she had watched. There was something below the surface that drew her and that was rare. He was more than just a delicious looking form, something from within him drew on another hunger she had. She basked in his attention and growing smirkish smiles. What was it about him. Thoughts oozed about her mind like tendrils of inky darkness, wrapping and latching onto any and every possibility.   Somehow they were all appealing.

A brow rose as he winked his piercing at her. Pressing her lips into a smirk she slipped her tongue out through her lips and used the tip to flick at the loop that hung like a bulls from her nose, licking the little skull in the middle, turning it around and around on the loop making it look like her tongue was almost beckoning to him – the metal was perhaps just in the way.

And then Karrii had taken her attention….

…….


“Haaaaaail Mouse…. Bears?” she snorted indignantly, “I don’t poke bears anymore. Did it once, they are disappointingly small for such a large mammal. “ A finger on each hand extended as she measured out about eight inches in the air with a disgusted look on her face.   Shoulders rolled and pulled into a shrug when she blinked and peered through the dim light of the bar at Karri’s face.

“Da f*ck happened to yer eye Mouse?” she snarled her previously engaging and welcoming demeanor changing deadly, just like that, “Name them so I can either f*cking kill them er at least appreciate what ye did to them in return?” she rose an expectant brow then sniffed and began to sway her hips in the opposite direction. Anyone checking her out from behind would notice the small jeweled handle of a (perhaps) a dagger sticking up out of her pants, which normally would be nestled comfortably along her spine. “Ye look like f*ckin sh*t woman. Why aint ye got ice on that!?”

Standing with a frustrated sigh she knuckled a hand into her hip and looked around, eyes drifting over the demon hunter to which she only jerked her chin at and smirked slowly, then to Grimun, “Grimun! Da f*cks wrong with ye!? Aint ye seen this girl’s eye!?” she gestures sharply at Karrii shaking her head, “Get her some ice fer this eye and try not to get distracted by the cute little bartender. She should be able to get the ice fer ye! And if ye can play off the warm hearted concerned friend worried about his little guild mate maybe ye will pull at her heart strings enough to get a private drink when she gets off work later. Now… ICE!”

Swinging her attention back to Karrii she plunked her elbows back down on the table just as she was before in time to hear her question about having a room. “A room here? Pfft nay. Me room will be wherever I end up passing out. Tis like a fun game I have. Where will I wake up next!? And with who?” The woman cackled and took a drink from her mug finishing it off with a frown.

When Karri’s hand touched Kat’s she lifted a brow at her. “Elf?” Her head dipped and turned to peer over the top of her shoulder to eye the ‘elf’. The single eye that would be visible to him sparkled in unison with his flashing piercing and narrowed a bit as she smiled, speaking against her shoulder, “That be no elf. Not anymore. That, me dear, be a demon hunter…and perhaps me next toy. I haven’t quite decided yet.” Her tone had become aloof and casual, but the way that amber eye locked on him was full of silent determined intent- and further challenge.

“Bad news? f*ck Mouse,” she scoffed with a laugh turning her attention back to Karrii, “what fun would it be if he wasn’t?” Her voice dropped to a seductive purr, “I don’t ride cows, woman. I go fer the bulls.”

[Feljäger]

The red headed vamp responded to his unconscious manipulation of his lip ring in a way that was torrid and telling. Her waggling and deliciously dexterous tongue reached up to toy with a small bead hung from the ring in her nose. Fellen had to concentrate for a moment, his smoldering green bale flame eyes flaring a bit more, as his “sight” sharpened. A skull. In fact she bore several of the small metallic decorations.

She courted death and the symbols thereof.

He smirked with a more feral cast to his expression. Oh, he knew death. If she cared to dare the end of living he was in a particularly strong position to answer the call. Any creature that ate a demon, that drank its blood and absorbed its essence, had a singularly powerful understanding of death and destruction. Of worlds. Of entire realities.

Oh yes, she had captured his attention now. He didn’t waste time on pondering if she would come to regret the interest, as he certainly wouldn’t regret anything he planned to do.

A barrel chested human, with the upper girth of a Doomguard, had emerged from his place in the crowd and had moved into the range of Fellen’s point of interest, which in turn drew the attention of the demon hunter. He carried himself with the confidence and authority of a hardened warrior and the scar on his face supported this perspective, so he was either a mercenary (as he lacked the garb that would mark him as Alliance military) or the muscle of some brigand band. Either way he was still a human and Fellen was not foolish enough to dismiss any foe but he was practical enough to know that few humans could meet the demonic fueled fury of a demon hunter, so there was not a human that existed that would serve to intimidate the fel-tainted elf.
He was a man of few words and the demon hunter always admired that trait. The less said, in the disgustingly guttural language of the human common tongue, the better.

The exchange between the humans played out as something of a piece of performance art for the bemused demon hunter. He tried to catch the words the ‘Mouse’ first offered the curvaceous woman that presented her rump to Fellen like a mandrill, but whatever was said was offered so lightly that even his markedly sensitive ears couldn’t make out the words over the perpetual din of drunken revelry that filled the Blue Recluse.

The Mouse seemed to be put off by the obvious direction of his glowing green “eyes”, the simulated pupils of which made it impossible for him to look upon anything and not be known in what the object of his attention may well be, but he was certainly not unaccustomed to that. The joke that was cast his direction was not actually untrue. Though he was not a demon, by any stretch of the imagination, he did look the part and his essence broiled with contained fel energy. Anyone that was not immediately unnerved, at some level, by such a being was likely not to be trusted. He would never observe total apathy toward his presence without a strong dose of caution. Fear was one thing, fascination was another less typical but all too familiar reaction, but absolute ambivalence indicated that the source of such apathy was anything but mortal.

The alluring female was obviously used to being obeyed, at the least, and her deeper tone was not one of pure drunken obnoxiousness, but rather the hint of true a commander. The kind of one that is used to giving orders of such a nature. She cast the bulky human commands with the tone of a mother-figure and the bluster of a dwarf. Grimun she named him and the name lodged in his mind. Always a good idea to know the face and the name of potential threats. Drink or no, she was quick to lay down her law, and the barking undertone warned that she was not to go unheeded.

Fellen was prepared to move to introduce himself, but the last bit of the exchange forced him to wait and watch. Would the male, Grimun, move to the tune her commands carried? If so how quickly?

What would the Mouse do in response to such a boisterous display of intent? The woman had all but announced to the tavern that she would be mounting Fellen before sunlight shone down to try and warm the icy streets of the city in the morn. She knew what he was, more to point she knew what he really was, a predator just as she, and that only stoked her interest. She was like a Felhound after all and not just some Azerothian great cat or canine. She would hunt very dangerous prey. Not for need to slake hunger but, rather, because she enjoyed the danger and relished the pain of the conquest.

Fellen needed to know how much authority this woman carried. His eyes, that flickered with fel energy, now could see the decoration on the tabbards worn by the company. They were all unified by an organization of some sort. A grinning skull motif marked them and let him know that in some fashion they agreed upon at least a loose code of conduct. His suspicion was that the predatory flame-headed fury was in charge. What happened next would tell him clearly where they all stood in the pecking order. A demon hunter that lived never acted without information, and this applied to every situation and every moment of the time that followed taking the seed and becoming one of the eternally damned.

So he sat, leaning against the bar, faced the trinity, and waited. Toasting them all with a lift of the cup that was dwarfed in his beclawed hand and then taking another small sip of the honey mead held within. Another dip of his head, his curling demonic horns bobbing and emphasizing the motion.

*Upon reaching the table that Karrii was sitting, the knife like words that emitted from Kat's mouth, reached his ears*

-ICE NOW!!!! And dont flirt with the bar wench!!!!-


*Is basically what processed in his brain, He shook his head for a second, leaned in to look at Karrii's face*

Ooooo that is a nice shiner

*Looks at Kat, sucks on his teeth*

If it hurt her enough she would of gotten some ice herself

*He pauses a few seconds, looking Kat over as if he was thinking about something*

And when did you become the mother hen, Did you previous predicament change you that much?

*Pulls out a chair and begins to sit, as he descends he yells out*

Joachim, the ladies need some ice over here

At first, Karrii tilts her head, confused about what the ramifications of Kat's words happened to be. She meant her expression as a warning, for Kat not to play with the powerful beings she longed to chase of course. What else could Kat have taken that as!?

Her eyes grow wide at the sudden accusation, her black-bruised eye's crimson sclera clearly visible. It looks painful to the touch, but she just bites her lip, her nails dragging on the tabletop. "Oh Kat, you don't have to do anything to anyone, it was my own damn fault!" she explains quickly, shaking her head. "It happened a few days ago! Ice won't do any good on it this late, and it's fine really it's fine I promise it's not like my eye is going to pop out and fall off and I already saw a healer about it I'm not letting any magic user touch it its fine I swear I swear-" Her rambling carries on, probably the most anyone has ever heard from the girl at one time.

Karrii cringes ever further at her shouting at Grim, glancing sidelong at the male. Personally, she doesn't feel she needs it, but be DAMNED if she were going to disobey Kat directly. If she wanted her to have ice, that eye is G O I N G to be iced, no ifs ands or buts about it.

Thankfully, the attention turns from her back to Kat's chosen prey for the night, and she lets herself relax with a sigh. And yet; she can feel the tension building already. Grim has failed in his task, and Karrii withdraws her hand to place herself back just enough under the perfect shadow of the stairs.

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

Karrii's rambled explanation of what had happened to her eye failed to register as Grim, the Traitor, dared to insult her and bring up what might have happened to change her. Had he been there he might have known all the trials and tribulations the guild and its leader had gone through while living Horde side. But he hadn't been there. He had shattered his oath and word to the gang and broke rank and abandoned them.

Her right hand began to twitch.

It may have been hard for the casual observer to discern when exactly she went from the concerned woman worried about Karrii's eye, who had requested the man to get ice for her - even jovially so- to the full blown triggered killer that she could be at the drop of a hat.

Her nostrils flared as her lips peeled back from her teeth. Eyes narrowing into glinting slits she waited for the exact moment Grimun was distracted with ignoring her direct order (yelling to the barmaid and sitting down) to deliver a swift round house kick to his upper chest sending him flailing backward in his chair. Once his chair and his back thumped against the floor the woman's leather booted foot was slammed squarely along the center of his chest perhaps further knocking the air out of him.

Leaning forward as if doing a leg lunge she stared down at him eyes full of warning, unseen, unheard rattle of the snakes tail in the air. Her voice was a very low, audible to him only, "i f*cking told YE to GO get the ice. Ye best DO that before ye have NO f*cking hands to get it with."

Words uttered she casually stepped back off his chest and crossed her arms, jerking her hip into Karri's table firmly as she waited. "Ye will have ice fer that eye soon, Mouse." Her eyes remained narrowed as she watched the man on the floor.

[Feljäger]

The demon hunter watched the proceedings with a bemused smirk glued across his violet hued and reptilian scaled face. His assumptions were proving to be accurate and this pleased him, as not even the most profound vision would reveal what really lay within an individual. He would always have to surmise based on experience, observation, and conjecture. When he found his guess proven mostly accurate it was an opportunity to stroke his ego just a hair more.

And he now had a name to go with the vivacious womans figure. Kat.

And Mouse.

Fitting.

The attack was explosive but clearly telegraphed, as Fellen actually expected less cues to the impending maneuver, and proof of many assumptions the elf had made regarding her nature and skill set.

He continued to watch the melodrama play out. He now knew what the pecking order was, at least according to Kat and the Mouse, but there was still the question of if the muscular male, Grimun, would capitulate and accept the accord as it stood.

Either way he felt he would get a good show.

*blinks as Kat movements were near superhuman speed, Even with his intuned warrior reflexes did not see the kick, Lands on the floor, the air escaping out of his lungs with a loud guff. He gasps for air, his lungs stretching to take in even a small amount of air. His lips numb and begins see little blue men dancing around a rose bush*

Karrii cringes furiously, her eyes clamped shut with Kat's motions. She is afraid momentarily that the woman would direct her aggressions to herself, but her fears are greatly unfounded and she relaxes. And yet- she makes no move to help the human male up nor fetch her own ice, though she were readily able to do so.

Her hands catch the mug of cheap piss-ale as Kat bumps her table viciously, and she can only nod. "Yes, my lady." she completes, her script already pre-determined in this uncomfortable dance she never wanted to take part in. She busies herself by sipping deeply on her alcohol, swirling it around in hand and staring at the amber depths. The demon hunter has been forgotten in her shock.

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

Kat blinked as her second request for ice apparently fell on deaf ears. She had not landed the kick to try and knock the insolent bastard out, but simply to knock him over. At this point she was done with him and his actions. He was acting like a child and she had no use or time for that. Perhaps he had been drunker than he appeared so one could have just blown him over which is all she had essentially done.

Throwing up her hands exasperatedly the red haired woman sighed looking at Karrii, "Come on Mouse. Take this as a lesson never to ask a piece of sh*t to do anything they apparently can't handle." Grabbing Karrii's mug from her she dumped the cheap booze over Grimun as she turned on her heel, looking over her shoulder at the younger woman, her tone oddly gentle despite what just transpired, "Don't worry about that, come with me, i shall get ye something that will curl yer toes properly, AND-" she glared at the unconscious body of Grimun, her voice suddenly full of poison again, "SOME f*ckING ICE."

Within a few confident strides Kat found herself beside the demon hunter, dwarfed by his size. Though his mere presence was commanding attention, she ignored him for the moment, staring at the barmaid whose mouth was opening and closing like a beached fish. Kat snorted and clenched her teeth hissing a breath between them, "i f*cking know ye heard what i wanted, don't stand there like-"

The girl quickly dropped a small bag of ice upon the bar which made the copper skinned woman raise both brows and smile. "Well look at THAT!" Her eyes studied the barmaid a moment in such a way that it caused color to spring to her cheeks. Nodding Kat pulled two gold from a hip pouch and placed them on the bar in such a way as to make each one snap down upon the wood. Sliding one coin at a time toward her, "This, " the first coin was pushed over, "Is fer a mug of yer finest sh*t fer me little friend here," gestures to Karrii, "and thiiiis one," she proceeds to slip the last gold piece toward her, "Is fer not being a f*cking idiot." The words were proceeded with a very large, toothy grin which looked out of place on her features.

Slapping her hand on the bar, she made the barmade jump, "Let's move it then, i wanna get the f*ck outta here. MOUSE!?" she looked around for her newest recruit, then finally, turned her attention upon Fellen with a slit-eyed grin. Her amber eyes matched his glowing sockets behind the material and she once more jerked her chin up at him.

[Feljäger]

His presence had seem to have been forgotten for the time being, which he certainly didn’t mind, in fact he was smirking snidely at the fact that a single blow seemed to reduce the muscular male to the worth of a fish left out of water. So either he was phenomenally weak for his girth or she was endowed with Titan-forged levels of physical strength. He doubted the latter as the chair Grimun was seated within showed no such signs of that level of impact. He also doubted the former as a man that large didn’t just attain such dimensions without either magic or hard word being involved, and either way such a kick should have done far less.

A ruse is what Fellen guessed, though to what purpose he couldn’t say. Humans didn’t make much sense to him. Too short of life perhaps? Prone to acts that lacked common sense because they didn’t live long enough to develop sufficient common sense? He knew not.

The Mouse had taken to her namesake and had been cowed by the energy Kat called to the situation, this did not go unnoticed and was not seen by the demon hunter strictly on face value. No one commanded that amount of fearful respect unless there was cause. Either a past, though this seemed unlikely, or something unspoken in the power Kat represented, and the leader was a fan of pain. It made the fel infused elf reevaluate the opportunities. Perhaps this situation would prove more valuable than once considered?

The pair strode to the bar, standing directly aside the demon hunter who continued to watch the male on the floor and sip his cup of mead, and thus another transaction was brokered and finalized. In the back of his mind Fellen could not help but to applaud the resilience of the bar wench that was nearly under siege. The tip she was making that evening was virtually a kings ransom to the likes of her, one would guess.

An announcement to depart, a loud call to the rodent, and then a pause. Fellen could feel the eyes upon him, powerful, direct, and hungry. The Fel-Stalker was breathing at his throat, ready to rip and tear and drink his blood, so the demon hunter remained calm and slowly looked down. Turning his head and leaning it toward that shoulder so that only one eye peered down onto the woman, a sly grin on his pierced lips. He peaked his opposite brow and wagged the ring in the far edge at her and the rest of his long, feather-like eyebrow mimicking the motion a nano-second behind.

“I think you broke your man-toy,” he chortled with an almost teasing quality laced into the rancor that even speaking common elicited from the elf.

He didn’t bother to gesture or expand upon that simple statement, for the ruse was still afoot and he needed to afford himself the presence of mind to be ready to react should the unthinkable come to pass.