Just Disappear (open)

[Doronlas]

Gabriel drew in a deep breath and let it out, raking a hand through his light brown hair. Stormy blue-grey eyes regarded the distant roadside inn known as the Dancing Deer Tavern. It was supposed to be a haven for weary travelers and an especially welcoming sight during a bitter winter evening with snow being flung at his face but for some reason, Gable couldn't muster up enthusiasm. The glowing from the inn windows meant a nice warm fire and the low building beside the inn meant a comfortable stable for Rywin, his tall black mare whom was currently regarding him impatiently. The mare's mane was turning grey with snow and her breath coiled in misty tendrils from her nostrils. The expressive animal made no attempt to hide her dislike of being out in the cold after nightfall standing in the middle of a road with snow deepening all around them.

Still, Gable hung back from approaching the inn. He was always a bit unsure when first approaching other people. His mother had been one of the half elven and even his father's fully human blood couldn't mask the elven features he had inherited from his mother. Most of them, granted, were mental abilities such as his extensive memory and wonderful intuition. He was built more or less like a man, tall and almost like a swordsman but his eyes gave him away. Deep and soulful like the eyes of an elf, Gable could often fester things out of others just with a gaze.

No one could really blame Gable for his weariness. His parents had been healers, their methods mainly elven in origin. When the rift between elves and humans had started building, Gable and his family had been in serious danger. Villagers had caught Gable talking to animals and had finally decided to act against Gable's family. He had been too late to give any warning and had arrived to see his home set alight with his siblings and parents trapped inside. Ever since, he used lavender often in his healing and sang elven songs of journey and protection which also put him in danger if he came across anyone that had a particularly burning hatred for anything elven. More than once he had had such a problem.

"Come on Rywin, I suppose standing here will do us no good" Gable said at last, his voice deep and strong like a man's but with the smoothness and soothing quality of an elf's.

Snorting, the big mare stood still as Gable swung himself again into her saddle. Big black hooves broke the snow as she trotted toward the inn and tavern, happy her master had finally made a decision. In the courtyard, a grubby looking stable boy scurried out of the stable as Gable left the saddle and took the light saddle bags that Rywin carried. They contained mainly herbs and provisions that were starting to wan since his last time in a village.

Leaving Rywin in the care of the stable, Gable made his way into the inn, weaving carefully through the drunken men and gossiping men in the corner tables. Reaching the bar, Gable found a seat at the end, managing to get a drink and bowl of soup from the barkeeper for a few copper pieces, the little money he had.

Trying not to worry about how he was going to pay for provisions and perhaps a room for the night, Gable focused on his food. He huddled under his cloak, back to the singing and shouting men as he tried to disappear into the crowd and become unseen and unknown. He kept his head ducked so no one would catch his eyes and didn't stand, lest someone notice the elven grace in his gait. The last thing he needed was trouble. People in this region weren't known for hospitality toward the elven or anyone with even a drop of elven blood in their veins.

[Lady Vanya Mareys]

Vanya walked slowly walked into Dancing Deer Tavern with her cloak up over her head. He father sent a few man along for her marriage. Her hair was down as she pulled the hood of her cloak. She slowly brushed her hair be hid her ear. The man she was with walked up and covered her ear. “Vanya not here.” He said to her as she looked around and saw a what seemed to be a elf. “Can I go and meet anyone in here?” She asked him.


“Vanya I’m sorry but you can’t your father’s orders.” He said as Vanya looked sadly at the ground. The men lead Vanya to a empty table in the room. The one man got up and got some food for them. Vanya just set there but she did look around the room. Her elf ears did start to show some. The men would was set with her was humans.

[Doronlas]

Finishing his meal in silence, Gabriel glanced at the barkeeper before leaving his seat at the bar. A man across the bar was singing a song but Gabriel decided he'd rather not hear the words. Ducking behind a pair of men eyeing a barmaid, the mostly human druid made his way through the crowd. It was slow progress but he was a patient man. Thanks to his natural elven grace, Gable managed not to collide with anyone and cause a drunken rage in someone. That was the last thing he needed, to cause a scene would probably be horrible. He wasn't one for the spotlight unless it was absolutely necessary and even then he seldom liked or wanted it. Causing a barroom brawl was likely to cause such unwanted attentions to be cast upon him.

Just as he was passing a table however, Gable glanced at the lone occupent. To his surprise, he saw an elf's finely peaked ear. Turning his head, Gable's stormy blue eyes seemed to zero in on the woman. She was a redhead, fair enough to have elven blood but there were subtlties that Gable recognized marked her as a part elven like himself, his dead siblings and late mother. Slowly, Gable approached but kept a respectable distance. He had to be close enough that she would hear him without him bringing attention to what he was going to say. If the wrong ears heard it could be dangerous here.

Stooping at the hearth of the fire, close enough to the woman's table, Gable cast a glance at her and chuckled softly. "Best cover your head young miss, wouldn't want to catch a chill" Gable said, his elven eyes catching the firelight.

He wasn't going to come out and say cover up your pointed elf ears. Nope. Drunk men would be dangerous and she was only a woman, probably not used to traveling among men. Gable made a living of it because he had no real other option. Neither the elven courts or the human courts trusted him as a healer and only the far-flung villages were desperate enough to trust his "witchcraft" which was really elven healing. Humans were so mustrustful of humans these days it nearly made him physically ill to see and hear.

[Byron]

Vol Turin hated it. The loud, thundering noises of men babbling about with their ale, their crashing footsteps across the floors, their endless loud chatter. It was painful, exceedingly painful. It made the insides of his ears throb and the tips burn. What he was doing here, in this tavern, Vol would never fully understand. His feet had guided him here, and hopefully, his sensitive ears would pick up something of use.

Voices of many different pitches, tones and volumes drifted to his ears, catching each big man's grunts and laughter, their conversations seemed to drift heavily in the air.
Vol sucked in a breath, a slow one to calm himself before settling down into a more comfortable position.

He was by himself, back to the wall, his left side brightened up from the fire as it cackled and spat at the wood as it almost chewed on it. Sightless eyes stared into the flames as they greedily licked the walls of its stony cage, the coals pulsing with heat. The edges of his pulled up hood were lightened, while the dark insides still kept his face hidden, although his features could most likely be seen.

He could feel it, the pulse and each pop of the fire well kept before him. It was better then outside, the chill beginning to gnaw at his fingertips and the edges of his ears a few hours earlier.
Ombre, his horse, was getting tired, and luckily for them the town came into view. Right now, his magnificent steed was in the stables close by. As for Sidedish, well, the little bat never strayed off very far. It was most likely gnawing on whatever food he found up in the corner above Ombre's stall.

Vol stretched. His 'friends' were all right, safe and warm. As for himself? Vol wasn't very worried. His armour gauntlets were safe and hidden in his backpack across his lap. His staff, a smooth, long branch of an aspen tree that had all the bark stripped so that it gleamed perfectly white, was leaning against his right shoulder, his hand draped across the wood to lay on his right knee and to keep it close by.
Unfortunately, his armour 'boots' were still strapped onto his legs. He had been to cold, stiff, and almost ... lazy ... to take them off. There were polished, or so far as a spit shine goes, and their curved points were flat against the floors. His cloak was long enough to cover his shins for now, the metal gleaming slightly on top of his feet. They were almost ... comforting to keep on. They reminded him of April, which kept his faith, his father, which kept him aware and strong.

He sighed loudly, the scabbed scar across his back giving a small little twinge that made Vol shift uncomfortably. He closed his eyes and listened after shifting back to his comfortable spot. Sounds drifted from everywhere. His eyes closed, not that this mattered at all, but if he were happen to look at the fire and his eyes shone their unusual colour he could lead people off on the wrong foot.
He listened carefully to the conversations, concentrating. Things like 'more ale' 'come over here, lad' or 'lass' drifted to him mostly, along with jokes and laughter. The main thing he was looking for was directions; directions on local, important, things that he could put to use. His back and scars were giving him trouble recently, and if anyone knew such thing, or of where to find it something that would help, would hopefully reach his ears and make this Tavern trip somewhat useful...

His ears gave a twitch. There were lighter footsteps, a light quick weaving pace that seemed different form the jostling about. His eyebrows came together slightly in wonder, a soft voice faintly, very faintly caught his ears.
'Cover - head miss, don't want to - chill.''

The first thing that popped into Vol's mind was 'why'? Straightening slightly, he continued his eavesdropping for hopefully, clues, and descriptions of the area. What did things look like?

Unaware, Vol's hooded, shadowed face came to rest and look upon the two figures, Gable and Vanya, at the table a little ways away.

{Word count: 705}
{Notes: Didn't really like this post... *frowns*}