Kylen's Interdimensional Bar

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"Pleez! Ze more ze merry-air! My nome est Wir'lovel! A plez-air!" The accented bat bows his head in greeting to the newcomer, his silver jewelry clattering a bit, including the chimes he wore about his neck. They tingled pleasantly as he moved, the bat looking back to T.B, rubbing his shoulder where he was poked... perhaps the wizard was a trite fragile. "Vell, eet eez man-lee, eez eet not?" He nods, "Vhat I 'ave to my name eez... books an' pow-air. Eet eez ze warr-ee-air types zat ze women laik, vhich I un-dair-stand. I 'ad a love 'oo vas a barbaric woman. A 'ead an' a 'alf tall-air zen me!" He sighed fondly, one ear twitching as the necromancer remembered. "Strong 'as an 'orse, too."

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(That's a nice pic, lad.)
"And as ferocious as a tiger in the sack probably." He laughed.
 
( It was a freebie that a friend drew of Wir while I was in her RP. :3 )

"She vas a tai-gair... an' to 'er mem-ree, I shall not be do-eeng ze kez-eeng an' ze tell-eeng." He nods respectfully, but the glazed-over look in his eyes said a great deal. He took a great swig of his wine, memories of a simpler time brought back: of adventuring, of the many friends he'd made. He'd have to visit a few of them again, the ones that survived the weird little quests they had gone on. "She vas of a' tribe of am-ay-zohns. Lov-lee. Zey vere a leetle vierded out zat she chose a viz-aird, let alone a necroman-sair. Ah zeek zey warmed up to me, zoh, vhen ze shaman said I could be trusted."

He chuckled happily, "Eet helps to keep a good rappot vit' ze spirits. 'Ard to do as a necroman-sair, but ah manage." He taps his cheek, "As for ze skellie-tens... vell, ah don't theenk zat necroman-see vill ev-air be accepted. Eet does not matt-air 'ow man-ee or-fan-ah-gez ah build, eef eet ez done vit ze undead." He shrugs, "Ah un-dair-stand vhy, but eet eez so seemple! Zey do not tire, zey do not eat or need to breathe, zey do not complain... oo' do not even need to clothe ze skellies, eef oo' do not weesh to! Alas! Ze stigma of ze dead. People do not laik to see zair long-dead great-great-aunt to rise vonce more an' build zem a love-lee beachside cottage... an' Pharamsa forbid eef 'oo try to cheer someone up by mak-eeng ze zombies dance around in ze tutus, sing-eeng een pair-fect har-mon-ee!" He repeats the earlier line, moving his hand back and forth for emphasis: "Ze scream-eeng, ze run-eeng, ze torchez an' ze peetch-forks.... zen ze mov-eeng of ze tow-air..."
 
(Sorry guys) Cat ordered her self another brandy and another of the same for Zri. She noticed the new wizard and was instantly nervous. Her tail twitched nervously.
 
Zri noticed a change in the lady next to him as the necromancer entered. "Not afraid of necromantic bats, are you?" He asked with a chuckle, giving her a squeeze with his tentacle.
 
During the time that the two newcomers had come in, Teal had busied himself with a darts board across the room. It took him several dozen tries to actually hit the target, rather close to the center though. Holding the darts in his hoof, he has to thrust his hoof forwards so that the dart slides off but doesn't just fall off.
After only landing about seven darts out of what felt like a hundred throws, Teal returns to the bar counter.
"I think I see why that game is only popular with unicorns." he says.
 
Christine was more than a little disoriented when she stepped through the strange door. most of the patrons she could see talking around the room were unlike anything she'd ever seen before, and she was tempted to turn around and leave again. She shook her head. 'Come on, Chris, a bar is a bar.' She thought to herself. She straightened her hood so and slowly made her way to the bar counter. She waited until she caught the eye of the bartender, then politely asked for a beer.

Looking around at all the people once more, Christine couldn't help but feel a little self conscious. Her clothes weren't in the best shape at the moment. They were worn and patched. She turned her attention back to the bar. She'd just rest here for awhile, enjoy some drinks, then be on her way. It was the first place she'd seen in awhile.

LittleRedRidingHood.jpg
 
Emmet stepped out of the door with a staff in front of him, held in a defensive manner. His pupils as wide as an ocean. One could easily tell that the weathered man was expecting a trap of some sort. After he realized that there was no serious danger, he lowered his staff and cleared his throat, while peering around, examining the different races. " What have I gotten myself into" He thought.

Emmet was wearing a leather vest, with three, different colored pearls in the middle of it. On top of the vest, he had a long, thin cloak, that ran down all the way to his knee. His fine, silk leggings were strapped on with a fancy tatter. On the tatter, one could find several small bags, with seemingly nothing within.

After dusting his clothing off, he headed over to the counter and sat down, snapping his fingers to catch the attention of the busy bartender. "Do you sell water?" An almost unnoticable smirk could be seen on Emmet's face. "If so, bring me a cup of it."

Emmet then turned away from the counter, and looked around in the room. Everyone seemed to be quite busy. The man sighed and closed his eyes, leaning at the counter, waiting for his drink.
 
T.B. went over to Christine. Kylen could take after the sorcerer. "Here ya go, lass." He handed her a bottle of Fae cider, he smelled magic on her, so he thought it would be ok. She wouldn't know the difference. While he had been gone, he had patched up the right side of his face. Too many people were asking him questions, and it actually scared a patron or two into walking out. It didn't leave much to the imagination though, because the bandages were almost completely red, although not wet enough for it to drip into anything. "Hey.....are you alright?" He gave her a once over. Tattered clothes were a red flag to him, he has had far too many run ins with runaways, bandits, and people that were lost for him to not be a little on edge because of it.
 
She murmured her thanks when he handed her the bottle and took a sip. It tasted different than anything she'd ever tried before, but it wasn't unpleasant so she didn't mind. She looked over the red bandages curiously, then straightened a bit when he asked if she was alright. She gave him a slight nod. "A little the worse for wear." She said. "I've been traveling for some time." She knew it was a vague answer, but she wasn't one for spilling her life story to a stranger. She glanced at his bandages again. "I feel as if I should be asking you the same thing." A little more comfortable now, she pushed her hood back to release her long, curling dark hair. She blew a strand out of her face as it tumbled over her shoulders.
 
"Just..." He lifted the bandages, showing her the now bloody half of his face, eye socket red and empty. "...peachy." He smiled.
 
She winced sympathetically at the sight of his bloody face. "Shouldn't you get that looked after?" She asked worriedly. She'd heard all kinds of stories of people whose wounds that went un-cared for bringing in evil spirits that rotted their flesh from the inside out. She reached up to touch the charm around her neck as she looked at him. It had been given to her by her mother to ward off evil spirits.
 
He saw her start to touch the charm on her neck. His eyes went wide. "Aw GODDAMN I-" Before he could finish, he flew against the wall, knocking over a few bottles, one falling on his head. He struggled to get up and used the counter as support, covered in alcohol. "That's a charm for evil spirits, isn't it?" She went to touch it again, oblivious. " DONT....Don't fucking touch that please. For the sake of my life, do NOT touch that fucking charm."
 
She flinched away from him with a squeak when he suddenly slammed back against the wall. She started to whisper to herself and reach for her charm again, but stopped when he asked her not to. She quickly took a step back away from the bar. "What does my mother's charm have to do with you?" She asked sharply.
 
He snapped his fingers and the alcohol on his body went away. His hand started to be covered in black magic before he reached for her. Before his hand got close, the magic around the hand disappeared and his hand started to blacken and burn. He pulled his hand away in pain, before getting a vial of something from under his bandages. He poured it on his hand before using the bandages on his eye to wrap it up. "That answer our question? Your world has a bad problem with Shades and demons of the like, doesn't it?"
 
She stepped away again when he reached for her, and when his hand burned she understood. "What are you?" She asked. "A shade? A demon?" She nodded a bit when he asked about her world. "Yes, evil spirts and demons." SHe eyed him warily, but she knew that her mother's charm would protect her well.
 
From nearby, the cackle of the bat-Anthro necromancer could plainly be heard. One hand on his forehead, he seemed amused to near-tears at the development with the amulet. "Mon dieu! 'Ow mag-nee-feek!" The creature tittered merrily as he went on, even while he extended a hand to help the fallen demonic entity. "Ah 'ave nev-air seen an amulet vith such pow-air!" He covered his mouth, quite pleased.

He also rummages around in a messenger bag, withdrawing a black potion. It's labeled "negative heal". He offers it to T with a happy smile, before turning to bow towards the amulet's bearer. "Wir, at 'oor serv-ahs! I could very much laik to know about zoor fine jewel-ree, eef oo 'ave ze time?" He seemed... Rather pleasant, for a wizard dressed in black.
 
Chris blinked a bit as the strange man with an even stranger manner of speak stepped up to them. She struggled to decipher his words before finally realizing that he was asking about her amulet. "My mother gave it to me when I left." She said. "She told me that my grandmother made it before she passed."
 
"Specifically, a Greater Duke class Shadow Demon. So yeah, I'm a Demon." He looked at her, before holding up a hand. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Calm yourself. If I was gonna do anything to you, your bones would be charred black and free of the person around them already." He smiled back, showing he meant no harm. He drank the potion, and shuddered. "OH SWEET FUCKING SATAN, MY TASTE BUDS ARE DYING!" He started to cough, not noticing his healed hand.
 
The bat offers a sympathetic look to T, "Oui. You 'ave my appy-olly-geez. Ze poh-shun eez een-ten-dead for zee undead meenions zat ah grow fond of. Zey are not norm-ah-lee consumed by ze liv-eeng. Zey'd 'arm ze mortal bod-ee, so 'oo 'ave zat go-eeng for 'oo!" He patted the man proudly, nodding at him with his needlelike grin.

He turns back to Chris, happily applauding. "Oo! Eet eez a fam-lee 'loom, zen. Such a pit-ee, 'oo vould not like to sell eet. Un-dair-stand-ah-bull! Ze ties of fam-ee-lee should be strong-air zen financial desires." He crosses his arms, frowning darkly at the ground. Something about his past, there? He raises his hands with a flouish, "But no mat-tair! Oo' are een a place apart from biz-ee-ness. I am a necroman-sair by trade... an let ze laif drain from zose 'oo would do 'arm in this place!" He raeches back around, grabbing his wine and raising it. "To ze sanc-too-air-ee of alcohol!"
 
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