Snippet #1511001

"The damned rain is picking up again, eh? What're you doin' sittin' here all by your lonesome?" Talae's ears caught the words and she stopped walking for a moment. That was... rather slurred. Kisikoni was usually an extremely articulate, if somewhat quiet, individual. Of course, she had seen him drinking quite a bit... all of a sudden it was a war between some kind of morbid curiosity to see just where that conversation was going and to leave well enough alone.

After a few more seconds of inner debate, the dark elf turned on her heel an approached the two from the other side. "It seems I'm not the only one who sought a bit of peace and quiet," she commented, both in something of a guess as to the answer to the only verbalized utterance thus far and also because she really had no idea how to make her entrance into this conversation any less awkward than that.

And with that statement, she had exhausted all possible options for things to say that didn't sound irreparably inane. Or maybe there had been no such thing to begin with, and she sounded even more ridiculous than she thought she did. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. She didn't really want to turn the conversation back to the battle (though she was curious as to exactly how common those large-ish dragons from earlier before were), so she went for the next best thing. "I don't know about the two of you, but I get the distinct impression that the people here would rather we were anywhere else. When do we move out?"

Some small part of herself kind of hoped it was going to be early the next morning, just because seeing everyone try to manage that with the hangovers they were going to have would be rather funny. Mostly she just wanted to leave because she disliked being surrounded by potential enemies. She had learned to see such things everywhere she looked, not that the locals were making it hard, and she of all people knew it took no particular level of skill to does someone's food with toxin, especially if they wouldn't be able to taste the difference through the booze. It set her teeth on edge, being here, and even now she scanned the surroundings constantly, glad once again for her senses.

---

"I could have sworn I saw him go out the back door," a female voice said from somewhere behind Alistair, and he flinched.

"Well, he's not here now," another replied, and it sounded closer. He almost sighed, but that would have been a dead giveaway, and so instead he ducked around the next corner, presently cursing the fact that his plumage was the approximate color of a Child's robe and thus absolutely unhelpful when trying to conceal himself at night. A snowstorm, sure, he'd be completely invisible, useless as that was. Again, it seemed his genetics were out to get him. All of this was probably some form of karmic punishment for leaving his clan and taking up with the Murder, he just knew it.

"So we keep looking, then, unless you want to go back in and get your ass handed to you by Qinn again."

There was some inaudible grumbling, and Alistair tried very hard not to laugh despite himself. "Why didn't you try, anyway? You probably could have beaten her if you wanted to."

"For Achiru? Not worth it. I prefer my males considerably more... well, something." Oh no. Alistair moved again, trying to find someplace where he could properly conceal himself. Was he being something of a coward in this moment? Assuredly. But he had no desire to turn this into a confrontation, which was the other way of dealing with this sort of thing. Chivalry was not a particularly adaptive trait in his species, but he had it anyway.

"Really? But Alistair's so... weird. Cute, but weird." Well, yes, that might be the word for it, now that he got to thinking about it. Ah, how he wished he could fly right now! He'd be able to outrun them in the air, but on the ground, they were all about as useless as each other.

"He is not!" the first voice protested hotly, and if he hadn't been so busy darting around corners and trying to get outof hearing range, he might have dragged a hand down his face. This was why he avoided females at all costs. Glancing around frantically, he discovered what might be the very thing he was looking for: an elderly orcish woman was beckoning him in the direction of her small home. Reassuring himself that he was still armed, Alistair took the only way out available to him and made his way over.

He was ushered inside a small house, cozy but comfortable-looking, with a nice fire crackling in the hearth already. His rescuer closed the door softly behind them and smiled kindly, crossing to a small kitchen space and pulling out various cooking implements and foodstuffs. A quick glance around was all it took to confirm that she likely lived alone, so an ambush was unlikely. Even so, he checked the rafters and the one visible window, which drew a rolling chuckle from his savior.

"Nobody's going to jump in and kill you, Legionnaire." Alistair glanced up sharply, but she was only smiling and shaking her head good-naturedly, and so he relaxed marginally. "Take a seat. You look like you don't eat enough; I'll fix that soon enough."