Customers?

[Young Grimwold]

*Hearing mention of 'Charles Redmun', Slevela moves over to the doorway, and quietly relays to Owen what she has overheard.*

OWEN: *In hushed tones* A bloke from the Wolf's Howl, in here? Wonder what he wants? Can't say we got much to hide. But I reckon Redmun has. Keep your ear open, lass. *Out loud* Sorry, love, no lunchbreaks 'til we get more customers. Back to work.

*Slevela returns to her pretending-to-be-busy/eavesdropping position.*

*A few nondescript villagers have entered the tavern, and are being attended to by another serving maid. The piper has finished playing his traditional tune, and starts on a different one: a ballad from the New World called 'Hello Again'.*

[Leytan]

*Leytan watches Slevela talk to Owen. Then calls her over.*

"Wench, some service please."

[Young Grimwold]

SLEVELA: What can I get you... sorry, I didn't catch your name, and I don't like calling the customers 'Sir' if I can help it.

*This is a lie - she overheard Leytan giving his name to Skiprazor. But she inquires nonetheless.*

[Leytan]

"I would like some bread please my dear girl."

"And my name is Leytan."

"But then you knew that already. Didn't you!"


*He looks Slevela square in the eyes.*

[Skiprazor]

[*Before Slevela can form a reply, Skiprazor interrupts, his voice cutting through the pipe music. The jovial tone he had employed earlier with Slevela seems somewhat tempered by this exchange.*]

"Well met, sire. Yes - I was wondering why you would sit at my table. I find it most curious, though not altogether unexpected. Naturally, the decision to enlighten me is once again yours alone. This Redmund - one can only assume that he is a man of certain means, if he can afford to employ one such as yourself, no?"

"I wonder - what kind of individual could best benefit from your own unique services? Are you happy in your current employ, stranger?"

[Leytan]

*Looks back at Skiprazor.*

"I sat at this table because Skiprazor. I reconised you, and I was intrested in meeting you."

"As for my current employment yes I am happy. I value and pride mysefl on loyalty to my employer."

"I also value my reputation. And I take a get dislike to being told that I am second best to another!"

*Staires at Skip.*

[Skiprazor]

[*Skiprazor shakes his head slightly, laughing in disdain.*]

"If that is what you have heard, master warrior, then you have certainly not heard it from me. I do not tell tales of myself - it is not becoming of a swordsman. And as much as I would have it otherwise, I have no control over what fabrications the locals may weave about me. Pray, do not feel disparaged or belittled in any way - I have no doubt already that your skills are considerable to say the least."

"With that said, if you have come here for combat, this is neither the time or the place. I suggest you either sit here and enjoy your food and drink as I am, or you may request a meeting at another time and place of your choosing. If I have offended you, it has not been my intention."

[Leytan]

"Oh do not misunderstand me Skiprazor."

"While I value my reputation. I also hold you in high regarard."

"You are right I am issueing you a challange. Not a duel to the Death, for I have no imediat dessier to die, just yet."

"I had more in mind a contest to see who could draw first Blood on the other man."


I am challanging you Skiprazor. Out of respect. I would consider it an honnor to duel with you."

"If you accepte you may set the time & the place."

[Skiprazor]

[*Skiprazor's teeth set taut at the issuing of such a challenge, as they have done so many times before. His darkest, crimson thirst for combat and bloodshed flows barely checked through his veins, just as it did during the Battle Royale. The agonizing frustration from his performance, physically and mentally torturing him while he lay at Dunnfalls, smarts like a never-healing wound. To be able to best such a plainly worthy adversary in single combat would be like sweet nectar after his recent experiences.*]

[*Yet as obvious as his answer is, his instincts are able to coat his barbed ambition with a veneer of caution. This is no opportunistic assailant or cowardly assasin - the challenge this time comes from one as well-versed, if not more so, in the art of combat than himself. The smallest sliver of self-doubt, yet another alien emotion, irritates him like a shard of glass in his side. Even more troubling are the many memories he has of simple duels like this one escalating into fights to the death - and much like his would-be adversary, he has no wish to expire anytime soon.*]

[*A test of skill between two more-than-human combatants would be the talk of the realm - yet he wonders if this is a duel the rest of the land need be privy to. Despite the intangibles, his mind is resolute.*]

"I accept your challenge, warrior. And if the privilige is to be mine, I shall decide the time and place. One shall fight with one's preferred weapons. No sorcery or artifacts beyond what abilities one has been naturally....'blessed' with. There will be a referee of sorts, to ensure that the odds remain constant throughout, who will be aligned to neither party. The first combatant who draws blood from the other will be declared the victor. The defeated foe will be duty bound to perform a single service on behalf of the victor."

[*Skiprazor's eyes begin to flicker wildly, bright blue sparks arcing between his irises like a barely-contained manifestation of his anticipation. His lightning gaze meets the unflinching, twin-hued stare of the Atlantean.*]

"Do you accept these terms, or do you wish to amend them in any way?"

[Young Grimwold]

*Slevela returns with the bread, looking a little guilty.*

SLEVELA: Not my fault if your voices carry. Room's quite empty if you hadn't noticed. Still, I'm sorry.

*She slopes away, but remains within earshot.*

[Leytan]

"Thoses terms seem fair but I will add one refinment."

"I have in my possesion a healing ointment. The lossser will be alowed accses to it IMEDIATLY the contest endes."

"Fair?"

[Skiprazor]

"Most prudent. You are a pragmatic fellow indeed."

[*Skiprazor allows himself the slightest smirk of satisfaction as he drains his tankard of mead. It would be improper to spend any further time in the company of the Atlantean, given the circumstances. Placing the tankard back on the table with a slow deliberation, he wipes his mouth and rises from his seat, as the erratic flickering from his eyes subsides to their previous sapphire glow. Fully upright, Leytan can see that he stands at over six feet tall. Skiprazor extends a gloved hand towards Leytan, as if to seal their arrangement.*]

"I look forward to our meeting, Atlantean."

[Leytan]

*Leytan shakes his hand.*

"As do I Skiprazor."

"When the place and Time?"

[Skiprazor]

[*Skiprazor smiles. He does not release his grip on Leytan's hand.*]

"I fear that I have some pressing business to attend to first. It may take a few days. Do not be alarmed. As soon as I am able to fulfil our arrangement, I will send word to you..."

[*He blinks, and the elbow of Leytan's outstretched arm jerks invouluntarily. A spiky, tingling sensation lingers for a split-second through his extremities. *]

"...you can count on it."

[*Skiprazor releases his grip.*]

"Until then...fare thee well, warrior."

[*He walks over to the bar and places two Gold Pieces on it. Pulling his hood up over his head once more, he nods a curt farewell to Leytan before heading towards the door where Slevela stands. Skiprazor is acutely aware of the fact that she has been cleaning the same tankard for the past five minutes. He smiles the same broad smile he had greeted her with, but something residual in his eyes has added an element of the sinister to his bearing. He maintains this expression as he addresses her in measured tones.*]

"I thank you deeply for your service today, young woman."

[Young Grimwold]

SLEVELA: Really? 'Deeply'? I don't get much deep thanks round here. Please, Neil, do drop by again! *She grins, almost tempted to wink. Then she adds, under her breath* And good luck with your duel.