Topic: The Brazen Wench

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-03-13 06:38 EST
Rings of ancient ale marked the top of a table meteor scarred from the tips of daggers, slashes of knives and runnels of nails. Two tankards, untouched, sat at either side of a lone sputtering candle made of the cheapest tallow. It hissed and spit as it burned what seemed to be wax that held bits and pieces of some thing?s hair, and an insect?s wing. The greasy smoke it belched occasionally into the air added to the miasma the dozen?s more let hang in the air.

The Brazen Wench was not a tavern few dared meander into, though it was located in the eldest part of Rhydin proper, it held a reputation few other taverns were able to boast having anymore. Even the filth was filthy, here, and if you wanted the dirtiest of dirtiest?no better place could one ask for. Secrets and gold traded hands here, the things in which kingdoms were born in, murdered for, and erased from history after.

Suliss?urn enjoyed visiting, for many of her sisters and brethren frequented here. Many of her marks could be spotted in addition to?It felt..there were no giant metal beasts here, that carried people in their great bellies. No elektrissiteas and no strange devices. The lines of magic hummed beneath her feet as they once did years ago when she first came here, bright enough for her to almost see it. Best of all, this was her domain. This was what she knew best; being a splotched shadow in darkness.

The female across from her was similarly cloaked heavily with hood drawn. It was all well and good to come here, but even better if one pretended to be another name or face. Everyone here kept their masks in place; they were no different, even though the two of them that shared the table were not actually there to do business but?to catch up with one another. The other drow female, taller and broader than the fabric covered Suliss?urn picked up the tankard of ale and pretended to drink from it.

?And you have not seen him in months??

Yellow eyes within the hood had been distracted by the distinct, though distant yelp of someone?s death-grunt being smothered from the alleyway behind the tavern. They turned now to her sister, Skikudis, a second time and stayed. While they were unseen within the hood, they were no doubt felt.

?Nau. I returned from Rhilshen and received naut else.?

?And what of your pack??

"I have naut sought them actively, but they are naut dead,? Adamant. ? I have not run into ?the other male, either.?

Skikudis made a low, husked laugh. ?The pretty one with all the teeth you admired??

Suliss?urn?s shoulders twitched. ?Xas. Odd one, that.? That was, of course, coming from Suliss?urn.

?Where are you staying?? Skikudis raised a gray palm before Suliss?urn could further raise hackles over giving away where she slept. ?If I need to contact you about the gem.? Her elder sister paused here, then took a second breath. ?Are you ever going to tell me why they?re after that thing your man-toy put into your claws??

Just as Skikudis could not see Suliss?urns gaze, Suliss?urn could not see Skikudis?, but she could feel her sister?s eye drop to the hand which was encased in mithril, unfinished, uncut ruby red stone within the palm.

?It is just a rock,? bluntly, and Skikudis did not question further. Suliss?urn?s eeking recovery had been amazing to watch from a distance, but painfully long as well as certainly no where near over. Perhaps it never would be, but far be it from her to piss her own sister off enough to throw such a thing back several years. Let her keep the rock then, if it pleased her?and yet..

?They are busy as usual, below, killing one another. But they have no forgotten what you have done. For a woman who does not exist, your name is spoken heatedly in many circles with the sound of whetstones of swords in the background.?

Suliss?urn chuckled darkly. With her ruined voice, it sounded more like autumn?s leaves over uncovered bones. ?Let them come.? I have little else to do these days.

Skikudis twisted the tankard in her hands.

?Was it worth it, Sulleeee?? The question posed seemed almost?child like.

?Was what, worth it?? Growled impatiently.

?Getting your heart broken by a human, of course.?

Skikudis had time enough to duck the stream of ale-swill that the younger sister threw at her in sudden violence, the liquid pattern of it falling reminding one of much more vicious material collapsing in droplets on the table between them. Skikudis? laugh was purposefully harsh, bitter, the sound of broken nails digging against closed coffin?s lid.

By the time she had collected herself to look across from her again, Suliss?urn had long gone, leaving the eldest with nothing more than a greasy candle and the memory of her own empty laugh.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-03-14 15:14 EST
Seasonal stirrings left the ring of hope?s distant promise within the dark elf?s pointed ears. Where ever she went, the seedling murmur of grass awakening from its long slumber, earth worm wriggling lay at her feet. Song birds warbled hours before the dawn, warning her ahead of time when to expect the harsh, washed out tones of the day, and the earth had began that sanguine stretch after the first few thaws had come and gone.

It was a time for new things. It was a time for beginnings.

She did not know how to begin when she had not even finished.

An forge empty of his presence but not his scent. The gnomes had some how heard of his return, and she did not question them. They were always surprised by her visits. Even more so when she handed them an elegant metal and wood pipe?she did not have to tell them whom to give it to.

She left them and found solace in a corner within The Wicked Wench while the sun arose and spread its spring-time glory across filthy cobblestone outside.

Inside, dirt from the years had turned the wooden walls dark and with the addition of pitch from torch, oil lamps and cheap candle tallow?they?d gone nearly black. There were no windows here and there were little signs of spring along the inside.

Hood up, cloaked yellow eyes followed imaginary patterns of once-flung ale. It was as if such a memory summoned the woman who spurned the drow?s hand, for in soundless fluidity, a taller, broader form slid without noise from the reeling mass of cut throats and tables to seat herself across from Suliss?.

?Little sister,? thrummed Skikudis. ?Are you pining??

Skikudis felt the growl from her sister more than she heard it. The taller of the two drow raised her palm again, placating.

?Alright, alright. You?re not. You?re looking positively dangerous and no doubt plotting the downfall of thousands.? Skikudis placed her elbows on the table, then lowered her chin on silvery palms, peeking slanted brown eyes from under hood across to her sister.

?You?ve changed, you know. Since I first saw you here. You?re not?I don?t know. As broken.?

The typical snarl emitted from Suliss?urn?s hood was not unexpected. Skikudis, strangely, looked younger than the other in her chin-in-hands position. ?It is far too late in the game to pretend at caring. Why don?t you run off and poison some one, sister.?

Arising from her wobbly, uneven seat, Suliss?urn gathered her cloak about her to make for what managed as the front door.

Only another drow ?or the insane?would dare touch another drow, as Skikudis dared reach out to stay her younger sister with unflinching iron grasp of a scarred wrist.

?We did what we were taught to do. I am what I am, you are who you are?so on and so forth and all that garbage,? straight on her chair, brown eyes within the hood tipped backward were hard as agates. ?But like it or not? Right now? I?m all you got. I?m all you?ve ever had, little girl. We?re in a different world now, a different place. Maybe that should mean something to the both of us. Maybe it?s a @#!%ing sign we?ve been given second chances and we should take them. I don?t know?but you?re all I have, too.?

Yellow eyes within the hood reflected poor light back and downward in the near incredulous, half-blank stare Suliss?urn gave to her eldest sister. The world went on about them, drunken pirates, squealing whores, plots and plans to murder this and that, yet between the two the silence could have smothered and choked.

Suliss? jerked her wrist from touch in lightening quick, violent tug. Teeth were bared in that way of hers; black lips peeling back as a wolf might in preparation to sink canines into doe?s neck. The drow leaned, so that her larger sister could hear the quietly hissed words. ?You seem to have mistaken me for someone who cares. I would advise you to naut do so again.?

Straightening in what seemed to be disgust from Skikudis, the shorter drow female turned in a whorl of dust as well as cloak, marching stiffly to the door.

In the wake of her sister?s words, Skikudis? smirk bloomed full.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-03-18 01:09 EST
His name was Orlak. He?d been behind the bar of The Brazen Wench since it opened, or so the rumors had it. A wizened, grizzled, scar laden dwarf that stood upon a rickety wooden box-contraption with wheels that carried him with a push from one end of the knife marked bar to the other. Oil lamps that might have once been a nice touch when the Brazen had opened, now a garish, filth coated brown curled in the mimicry of flowers to shed their smoke-yellow light upon the barrels of swill Orlak called ale.

Bar stools tucked beneath the dark stained bar were completely mismatched, some of them appeared to simply be stools collected from the trash of other less fortunate taverns. Some of them appeared to have simply been the different manifestations of stools purchased and replaced in a tavern?s natural life.

Orlak?s dull gray eyes didn?t flicker upward from his polishing of a wooden tankard with dubiously stained cloth when the two figures cloaked in black leaned their elbows against it. Orlak had long ago given up any enthusiasm in seeing whomever showed up, several scars along his stumped hands and across his face had taught him to pretend as if faces did not exist.

One of the figures twitched a hand in his direction and Orlak turned immediately to the tap. Two tankards of ale were poured, and then thumped before the two figures after pushing himself off to wheel toward them. Promptly, he wheeled away and returned to his drying of tankards. Though half of them didn?t seem to be washed enough to need to be dried.

The bar itself was at its usual dull roar, nearly drowning out the murmuring of the two leaning at on the worn wood. Their voices were familiar to him, the high, and lilting sweetness of elven kind, roughened then ruined by the guttural, earth-tainted roll of deepest caves as well as slithering snakes.

Drow. He knew what they were, and they were common in this place. More so the males than females and Orlak couldn?t really blame them. Heard a tale or two about what it was like living below the earth with them females, he?d probably high tail it to the surface itself.

Though they kept their conversation low he could hear them. They spoke on the many different oddities of this place, the many deaths, explosions from last year and this, bodies found, political intrigue, the many ways to gut a man from fifty paces?the usual casual talk he?d expect in here. He?d almost turned from the conversation entirely, until the larger of the two abruptly interrupted the other in mid speech about hunting.

?Do you hate him??

Orlak dropped one empty into the rack to be used and picked up another without turning, but the great white of his braids on either side of his temple rustled slightly in the smallest turns of his head. It angled his ear better to listen for the response.

He was far into the seventh tankard dropped and picked up for more useless cleaning with his towel before he finally heard the shorter of the two answer.

?Why must you insist on bringing the topic back to him? Why can you not leave it alone, xas? What is it about him that interests you so?? An even longer pause, when the shorter of the two seemed to tense up and straighten. ?Do you want him? Is that it??

The larger of the two snorted so loudly, so harshly that she nearly blew off her hood. Orlak did his best to keep his face neutral.

?That is naut the reason,? hissed quietly.

?Then why??

Her answer took long enough for Orlak to lose count of how many glasses he?d rubbed down and put away.

?Because I?ve naut had it. Because I do naut understand. Because, perhaps, I am jealous of my little sister.?

It was the smaller drow?s turn to snort violently in the direction of the larger. Pushing her ale away from her, the shorter of the two leaned away from the bar and made motions to go.

She stopped half way, however. ?Nau,? quietly in a voice that reminded Orlak of dead old bones turned into flutes. It was ruined compared to the others, a ghost of what might have been a beautiful thing to listen to. ?I do naut hate him. It would be easier if I could.?

By the time Orlak realized he was glancing up in a bit of startled reaction (after all, drow were drow, and to admit a lack of hate was such an unusual thing!) both of them had gone in their creepy super-duper drow spooky ways?just two untouched ales and a pile of copper on the bar left as evidence of their passing.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-03-18 13:47 EST
I cheated myself, like I knew I would
I told ya I was trouble, you know that I'm no good


Most people overlooked Zezz. Let?s be honest, some one that didn?t reach taller than four feet and a few copper coins left over to barely even come close to five didn?t inspire terror. In fact, just the opposite. Most people at first glance didn?t even see Zezz, let alone notice the short masculine form in cloak by the door.

That?s probably the exact reason why Orlak hired him thirty years ago and most assuredly why he?d continued to have a place of employment in such a seedy, disreputable place as The Brazen Wench. To the right of the door, day in and day out it appeared to be some short stature person in brown patched cloak half slumped into his cups. That?s just what Orlak wanted the newcomer?s looking for trouble to believe, too. For all intents and purposes, some hot headed idiot with a mind for trouble would stroll in?think the tavern hadn?t a man at the door to keep most of the murdering done outside?and that?s when Zezz would come in.

Yeah, the male didn?t exactly know why he ?yes he did. The thrill of throwing out patrons double, some triple his size, and the satisfaction in witnessing within widened eyes the realization they just got their arses handed to them by a drow male shorter than most human?s children. Yeah. That?s part of it. Orlak paid well, too.

It was twitchy work sometimes. There were females here and there that occasionally showed up, strutted on in wrapped against the sunlight or moonlight from outside, but Zezz?Zezz would know that strut from a mile away. There?s something about a female drow?s walk that doesn?t change, whether the snake-headed whip was at her side or not.

These two? That?d been hanging around recently always with their heads together? They made him nervous. Zezz had been cautious of females on the surface, but he?d never truly been this nervous. One of them was a towering construction of mass; taller than some of the men because she wore a set of wicked heeled boots. She lacked the grace her shorter companion held, but even he could tell by her girth the woman probably had muscles most men worked their entire life for. Few and far between had he seen any drow grow that big?and he meant to make sure he stayed the hells out of her radar.

If Zezz had to choose though? He?d take the big one over the little one. The smaller one reminded him too much of things he just did not want to think about?ever again. She was a killer to her bare feet openly seen beneath the folds of voluminous robes. She walked with her weight low like some giant stalking jungle cat he?d had the fortune in meeting one day as part of a patron?s collection and was so precise in how she placed her feet that he could not pick up a sound from her. If it wasn?t for her slight breathing and the rustle of cloak, his eye sight?he?d never know she was there.

They alternated between leaning on the bar and seating themselves at a table nearest the door (the cleanest path of escape, really) and Zezz wasn?t sure if he was relived or ready to twitch out of his skin when they chose the table to sit at. Wrapped in brown wool grease stained and ale stinking, he slouched further down in his seat, twitching the hood up higher over his dark face and white hair.

But, like any typical male? He could not help himself. Mean, c'mon. They were females. Drow females were legendary for a reason.

His head began, almost on its own, to twist a touch toward their table. It took a few minutes to filter through the many sounds of the usual patrons; a whore cackling, dangling from some toothless pirate?s knee, ale tankards slamming home to the table, belching, arm wrestling?ah, there. He had their voices, sibilant little tongues in guttural call, sweet things that?never mind that. He listened.

?Did you naut say anything??

?And what would you have had me say? Some pithy romantic shu not worth the bottoms of my feet? I?d rather kiss a light elf.? The one with the raspiest voice turned her head and spat.

Zezz grunted into his hand. The taller of the two chuckled quietly.

?Nau. I suppose not, though you used to be very good at writing balla??

Zezz didn?t even see the smaller move across the table, nothing but a blur really, as she grabbed a hold of the larger one?s cloak, fisted it in a bunch within grip and jerked her forward toward her.

?Do. Naut. Push. Me.? So violent the words, Zezz could hear the shorter of the two?s teeth clack together in her skull. Just as sudden as she had moved, she let the larger go and eased back into her seat.

The larger of the two took a moment to rearrange her cloak and small silver pin upon it.

?Anyyywaaayy,? dripping with dryness and too much sarcasm, or so Zezz felt, began. ?Have you considered coming back to?You know. Her?? The importance in which the female gave the single word made Zezz uneasy. Her?who? Her ?Spider Queen? Her, Sword Maiden? Her--?

?Have you considered simply shutting your mouth?? Snapped the raspy-voiced one. ?You are naut helping. Honestly, I do naut understand why I did not kill you sooner.?

Zezz fought down a bitter laugh. It was almost like home, really, listening to those two.

?Because you secretly looooove me, Suuullleeeee!?

?I said shut up.?

?Fine. What are you going to do with the rest of your life then? Kill everything that moves until you fill whatever empty hole you currently have? Maybe prance about under the moon light and keen for things better left in the past? Nau? How about living like an animal some more and digging in the dirt, switching from place to place with everything you?ve ever owned scattered all over the nine hells and back? Oh! I know?? Even Zezz was wincing. Why didn?t the larger female just shut up? ??You can continue moping around about being broken, using it as an excuse not to ever get better, xas? Then you can get away with being the ungrateful little b**ch you are about having been granted a second chance, tossing away something most people dream of having. That sounds good.? Barely a pause. ?Ohhh, wait. Isn?t that what you?re doing right n??

The table was overturned, scattering ale, drinks, and the chair the smaller one had been sitting in.

Now, Zezz had seen some pretty damn big men in his time working for Orlak here, and Orlak was a smart business man, despite the usual misconceptions of some dwarves. Orlak wasn?t stingy with the tables. He knew they and chairs were some of the first things to go in Taverns?the bar stools were easy to replace?but a solid table with six chairs? In a bar that had a brawl nightly? Gets expensive on a man?s purse pouch, so Orlak had the heaviest, thickest oak tables he could get built and installed. Made it difficult for most of the violent bastards in here to pick them up, fling them around, breaking them over their best mates head and what not. But Zezz just watched this little critter of a female drow pick it up and overturn it like it was the softest wool blanket.

Amazing what a female drow, what any female could do?piss ?em off enough.

It turned quite a few heads, too. Several men stopped in their tracks, hands dropping to their belts. There was a sort of tension in the air that was rarely heard of in a seedy place such at The Brazen Wench?the kind where breathes were suddenly held, tankards of ale were paused in mid lift, and all eyes turned to rivet themselves on the two figures standing across from one another.

Maybe it was that sort of tension. Maybe it was something else. Zezz didn?t quite know what it was that kept the smaller once, growling deep in her chest fit to make a wolf ashamed stay her hand and turn about in a fury of cloak to the door.

Frankly? Zezz didn?t care.

As soon as the door slammed shut, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time now that the smaller female had departed.

Safe.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-04-24 07:25 EST
Nataya had worked at the Wicked Wench as long as she could remember.

There weren?t many women who could proudly say that they were raised in a tavern, by an ornery dwarf, a gaggle of whores and still turn out marginally sane?thankfully, Nataya wasn?t most women and her upbringing in a world of down-and-dirty had made quite the little poisonous flower.

The realm had flawless perfection as well as ageless beauty; it had women with chests to die for and faces to launch a thousand ships. Nataya had normalcy. Nataya had a heart shaped face spattered with freckles and medium dark hair, pale skin and a big of a crooked nose from a past bar-brawl, a little space between her teeth and wasn?t the asymmetrical goddess that wandered about the streets day or night. In short, Nataya was comforting. Approachable. Downright near normal and the girl-next door.

That illusion was maintained in the way her blue eyes glinted in the dim, oily light within The Wicked Wench, just as if she could barely stop herself from a good belly-laugh. Her wide mouth appeared perpetually one-corner curled, as if she might smirk or grin at any second?she did indeed seem the comely sort of down to earth lass any man could approach.

?If it weren?t for the gaggle of sharp eyed whores from the third floor that leaned over the balcony to keep an eye on her with peepers as dangerous as harpy?s, or the flinty eyed watch of the battle-scarred dwarf behind the counter.

Nataya had life well done, presented on a platter and given to her in spades. She had her fingers in just about everything with the careful observances of poppa Stumpy and the ?girls? from upstairs. Nataya often spent her nights in the Wench tending bar if it suited her, waiting tables, wandering about and schmoozing with patrons to coax them to buy just one more ale or causing no end of trouble with all the wrong people.

She knew she could do what she wanted with little circumstances. She was protected. She had connections in a place far too often thought of as connection-less. Rare and wonderful, it meant Nataya could do as she pleased, leaving others to clean up their own mess.

There was one mess she?d been eye balling up for weeks now. A pair of heavily cloaked women that kept arriving which she couldn?t for the life of her puzzle out. Where they lovers? They quarreled a lot?but no, they couldn?t be lovers. They never, ever touched. Not even when they thought no one was looking. Were they family? All the careful questions laid out through the past week gave her not a single answer. When she?d asked Orlak about the two he?d sealed his trap so tightly Nataya thought she could see the shape of his teeth through lips. The best he got from him was a finger shake and a warning that damn fool girls should leave things alone!

He always was such a dreadful little troll, Nataya mused, spinning about on her bar stool until the tips of her shoulders touched the edge of the bar itself. Legs crossed and arms spread, Nataya in silk the color of fresh blood looked akin to a spot of murder in fresh snow compared to the usual dull patrons in their clich? black robes and what not. She was bored and just about considering which man to flirt with and get Zezz to throw out, when two familiar shapes in superior woven black clothe materialized through the door.

Nataya straightened, reaching up absently to pat at her hair.

Oh good, Nataya turned her head slightly, to hide the beginnings of a fox-sly grin, the entertainment has arrived!

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-06-08 06:29 EST
Nataya didn't just smile as she swept two ales from the counter, slid from the stool, and began her saunter. No, she positively glowed. Her best merchant's pitch expression, curving lips precisely so as the woman slunk closer toward two cloaked forms bent over a table.

Perhaps they weren't expecting visitors, as everyone within the tavern tended to avoid the two of them as if they carried the plague or worse; because sibilant, quite conversation carried on just enough for Nataya to hear.

"What do you mean it's sentient?" The larger of the two black cloaked female exclaimed. "That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. It can't possibly. You're just hearing your own voices or whatever the hell you hear in that screwed up head of yours."

"Nau, I am telling you, it speaks. It is telling me to--"

Both hoods, colorless and appearing as if the darkness within them never ended reared upward just as Nataya came several feet of the table. Almost like wolves scenting deer in the night; even their eyes flashed. For a moment, perhaps, the red clad woman's smile faltered but quickly recovered.

"Good evening, ladies. Ale! Compliments of the house. The two of you-" Nataya set both tankards down with nary a clank. "-have been some of our quietest patrons." The woman clasped hands behind her back, glancing from one hood to the next, then leaned forward so that her murmured words could reach only the occupants of the table.

In a moment, Nataya leaned back, the curve of her mouth nearly twisting to a smirk.

Several heartbeats later, the smaller of the two females kicked out a chair, and Nataya slipped to settle within it light as air. From the bar unseen, Orlak twitched a finger aside.

Shadows moved careful through the bar toward a table of three.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-06-14 05:07 EST
The one to Nataya?s right wasn?t much of a looker really, now that she could settle herself into the rickety wooden chair and catch a glimpse of black faces in blacker hoods. Broad of features, she had a strong jaw that reminded her of masculine lines with smaller eyes, too plump lips and a prominent nose. The one to her left, however, was a different story. Shorter and appearing much more delicate, the impression carried in a set of features that could have belonged in an expensive gallery; aristocratic, angular, haughty, dainty. These were just a few words that rose in split-second jealousy as Nataya caught a glimpse of the second female drow.

This, of course, did not last. With much satisfaction, she made note of the jarring, awful scar which ran like silver streak across the female?s face and her jealousy faded to the task at hand.

?The two of you have had your heads together, thick as thieves for weeks.? Clacking a perfectly lacquered fingernail against the top of a table which looked like it had survived a battle field, not a tavern brawl. ?And I want in,? lowering her voice, it took on a sharp edge as narrowing eyes darted left to right continuously.

The smaller one to the left hissed akin to displeased alley cat while the larger one grunted like a man amused. Nataya did not see what the smaller woman did, but the larger drow suddenly splayed a hand over a smaller, scarred black one that had blurred toward Nataya quicker than she could have caught it.

?Now, now. If you keep killing everyone that approaches us, they?ll never let us in for drinks at this rate.? Dark eyes tilted exotically darted to the right then back to the pale Nataya. ?Besides that, it seems we?ve been careless. We?re already outnumbered.?

The larger drow female?s hand caught over the smaller quivered slightly, tendon and sinew popped with the force of holding the smaller female?s hand still. ?Let?s hear what the whore has to say, xas? What harm could that do??

Nataya?s fingernail had long since stopped tapping. It had snapped in two. ?That would be wise,? she murmured, all traces of the too-clever grin had dropped.

Sulissurn

Date: 2008-08-09 07:14 EST
Nataya lowered her head and her voice, though a woman such as herself, shimmering curls and painted lips, settling at a table with two shadowy figures? It drew attention already. It drew attention immediately, actually.

The two drow would have to be children or idiots not to notice the subtle shift of mood within the inn. Orlak's little gem of a daughter wasn't left without several eyes and ears. The whores dangling from the top of one of the balconies seemed to have lost some of their enthusiasm to cry for their trade, the two dark shadows at the front door had left their post--no doubt swimming closer, and Skikudis kept black hand on the smaller females wrist. Firm black hand. Enough so that around the larger woman's fingers the rune marked skin began turning silver.

"I have contacts, several." A dart of eyes between the two, Nataya's voice dripping dry. "And I don't mind dealing with people, getting them to talk. I know people the two of you don't, nor would you ever." Drow, see. They weren't known for cuddling up well with other races, being generally a racist bunch of elitist ...Anyway. The point was, the two of them would probably kill anyone before trying to deal with them. Whatever it was the two of them had, were trying to be rid of , or were going to do? They needed help. They needed Nataya. Whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Or at the very least, Nataya was going to do her damndest to make sure the two of them thought so.

"So, yes. Let me point back to your earlier statement about killing everything that approached the two of you." Smarm and alley-cat preening, all in one, Nataya was.

Nataya could barely see anything but either female's eyes within hoods. The little females burned like molten gold, while the larger females were barely seen and brown as muddy earth.

What was disconcerting was the way the two of them smiled at Nataya, at the same time, with the same sort of generous mouths, which was generally just a baring of teeth in rather feral expression. For all of three seconds, Nataya wondered if she should have kept her nose out of things...But that didn't last long. Nataya wasn't the sort of woman who'd had to grow up worrying about things. She had Orlak and an entire troupe of people to cater to her every whim of course.

"We see your point," the larger of the two said. The smaller drow female hissed again. In a short, quick jerk, Skikudis wrenched her sisters hand below the table and out of sight. Nataya did not even note the dart which sailed past her to land into some poor drunken sot's back. Who, seconds later, keeled over onto the floor.

"We see your point." Again, but this was more for the smaller female's benefit who appeared to be trying to kill Nataya with her eyes alone. "And how much is your....help, going to cost us?"

That, right there, was the million gold coin question