A Wanderer returns

[Miguel Southborne]

Miguel walks into the bar, his cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his cowl up, completely obscuring his face. All that anyone could see beneath the hood is a shock of white hair and shocking green eyes.

He carries a long staff, intricate with runes and, when glimpsed from the corner of your eye, glowing with a brilliant blue light. The hilt of a sword can be seen under his cloak, resting within the pommel is a large red stone.

As he steps into the warmth of the bar he looks around, seeing things both familiar and new. Not seeing a barman he pulls a bottle of wine from behind the bar leaving a gold penny in its place. Miguel pulls the cork out with his teeth and heads towards a table in the corner. He moves a chair and places his back to the wall so he can see the whole room and more importantly, the door.

[Chronica]

Adora sat hunkered in her corner, her blue-black hair fell in a silken sheet; hiding her face from the light. Her hands were tucked neatly under the table, as she slowly slid her index finger over the engravings on her copper bangle.

She watched as Miguel entered the bar: following him with her hidden eyes. One tooth bit the corner of her lower lip, as he gathered the wine from behind the bar, and as he seated himself in a location that was obviously advantageous. What is he hiding from, or expecting to follow him? she thought. It was none of her business though.

Her finger quit tracing the engravings, and her hands began to relax in her lap as she turned her eyes away from the man to look back down at the table.

[Issac]

*The door flew open with a loud scream! Slowly darkness seem to be creeping into the bar. it grew colder and in with what seemed to be a black and red mist. laughter could be heard coming with the mist.*

Issac walked through the doors with a smug grin on his fact. with golden white hair he strolled through the bar looking to see what kind of life form would even inhabit this dump. He wore no shirt but had tattoos covering the tops of his arms and bracers on his wrists. Taking a seat at the bar it self he looked around a few times..


"Hmm."

[Miguel Southborne]

Miguel's eyes narrow slightly at the sight of Isaac. As he pours himself a glass of wine he says

"Close the door, it's cold out there."

His voice sounds dry, as if it hasn't been used in years. Despite this dryness a very musical quality can be heard. Taking a sip of wine Miguel glances at Adora. He used to be very familiar with this place, but apparently some of the residents had changed.

[Chronica]

She feels Miguel's eyes on her and she burrows further into her corner. She was content when she was alone; to think her own thoughts, to no longer have to hide behind hair or scarf, or hooded cloak. With others coming it took almost everything in her to not flee.

Especially when Issac had wandered in: the cold draft that followed his swirling mists made her shiver. Not only with cold, but with trepidation did her skin slowly raise into multifaceted little bumps. His seat at the bar kept her from being able to watch him from behind her hair, but in her efforts to remain invisible she did not bother to glance in his direction.

[Kor Fourwinds]

Yet another figure walks through the still open door, waving a hand in front of his face in order to blow the red mist away. The new arrival is dressed almost identically to Miguel, cloak and cowl disguising nearly all physical features. The man carries nothing and there are no weapons visible beneath his cloak. After briefly scanning the room, he walks slowly towards Miguel's table, pulling out the chair opposite him and sitting down, his back to the door. He leans forward and speaks, his voice low.

"I don't know how in the names of all of the gods you did it, but your message reached me. I'm tired, thirsty, confused, but here, so what do you want?" The man's voice conveys both interest and anger.

[Issac]

Issac glanced over at Miguel and gave him a smile and a "Hmhp." he looked his eyes with Miguel's. With a quick flick of his right hand the doors slammed shut and took the mist with it. looking back to the bar he looks around again. Still nothing.

[Miguel Southborne]

With a fluid gesture and a whispered word another wine glass flies from behind the bar and lands gently on the table between Miguel and Kor. Miguel begins to pour the sweet red wine into the glass and says,

"I know it's not your favorite blend, but it is mine, and I was here first."

As he finishes pouring the glass he pushes it towards Kor. As he reaches across the table his sleeve slips back revealing an extremely wrinkled hand. Miguel quickly flicks the sleeve back over his hand, but not quite quick enough. It appears that the tip of his little finger has no flesh on it, and the bone is showing strikingly white.

"I knew you would come, I need your help."

[Ashlyn]

Ashlyn kept her cloak pulled low as she walked into the bar. Her appearance was odd enough that people tended to remember it. That was not a good thing when one didn't want to be remembered. She was traveling to other worlds, looking for others like her or at least someone who could explain the uniqueness in her. Being careful to stay to the shadows of the room, she picked a table in a darkened corner. Her eyes scanned the inhabitants of this bar. It was like so many others she'd been in. Yet there was something about this place that had drawn her here.

[Chronica]

Adora continued her attempts to blend into the shadows as she watched the goings on in the bar. However, her thirst got the better of her and she leaned forward to grab her goblet of lager. The more she moved into the light, the more her blue-black hair shimmered and shifted in color. Seemingly black at first glance, then taking on various hints of blues, greens, yellows and reds, her hair color shifted. It shifted so swiftly in the light that most people or being never truly noticed the creative spasms her hair took on.

She grabbed her goblet swiftly and attempted to merge with the shadows once again, this time bringing the hood of her cloak up to cover the hair she despised.