The altercation continues...

FV:Tavern

Outside a sign swings on a rusty creaking frame above the doorway of the tavern depicting a faded painting of what appears to be three rather rich looking skeletons slumped over a table around a black chalice, perhaps such a thing could be taken as a warning but it doesn't appear to work on the locals. The noise within on a normal day is usually heard before the door is even opened and only rises in volume when one actually steps inside.

There are the typical qualities of a tavern within, from the bar to the chairs and booths and the odd drunk who never seems to move it's the little details which encourage a patron to pay his tab if he likes his fingers. One look at some of the staff or customers might give the impression but the room is decorated to the fiercer tastes with bones, mostly skulls cropping up here and there to fill a gap on a shelf or decorating the walls above the doorways, fireplace and bar, a pair of axes joining the one over the fire with some signs that they've been yanked off to join in a fight a couple of times. Some of the comfier chairs are lined with fur and very rarely one might be found with a few pointed bits of bone to decorate the back. Despite the looks there is entertainment and fun to be had, some form of music usually played on a small stage in the corner and at least one bouncer usually tries to keep the peace while beasts gamble, drink and be merry.

A small door behind the bar leads out the back to the kitchen and cellars while one wall has been opened up in a wide arch to increase the space off into the next room where what seems to be a wooden fence with gates on either end has been set up as a fighting pit as further entertainment and something to bet over.

Exits: [Out]

The day has been down cast and gray. The peals of thunder are growing closer and the rain has already started. The door of the tavern is quietly opened and a cloaked figure with a quiver of black arrows and a bow on his back steps in. He goes to the bar and orders himself hot tea. Raggs yellow eyes twinkel as he sips it.

A flapping sound emerges through the storm sounds, and a bedraggled-looking Lenore enters the tavern. Upon seeing Ragg, she gives a low caw and hops over to the bar, ordering a bowl of warm elderberry wine.

Ragg glances over at the Raven with his laughing eyes "Enjoying to weather?" He asks with a grin.

Lenore poufs up and caws again, but says nothing. When her wine arrives, she pays the barkeep and takes a long drink. She seems to be ignoring the weasel.

Ragg grins and his eyes keep laughing "the cat got your toung?" He sips his tea "or are you just mad at me for somthing?"

Lenore's eyes narrow, but she keeps quiet. She reaches up and begins to fiddle with the carved-bone skull hagning from a silver chain about her neck.

Ragg shrugs and his shineing eyes see the movement "well if you wish to be quiet don't let me stop you, but I will keep talking none to less. I hope you don't mind me asking what that bone thing is."

Lenore turns and glares at Ragg, then moves over to beside him. Settling down, she ruffles her feathers and stares at the weasel. She says not a word.

Ragg meets her gaze with his danceing eyes. he lowers his voice to a whisper "did our 'master' cut your toung out?" he seems to be getting slightly annoyed at this silance. This is the way to get Ragg mad.

Scioto steps into the tavern and hangs his wet cloak and then walks over to a chair near the front, he gets an ale and sips it before glanceing around the tavern to see whom is here today.

Lenore laughs, a sound as eerie as her caw. "In your dreams." she goes to say more, but stops as Scioto enters the tavern. She scoots over a little and sips her warm elderberry wine.

Scioto nods a greeting "Greetings to you both," He sips his ale.

Ragg laughs "My dreams have nothing to do with your muteness!" He sees Scioto and grins "hello."

Lenore caws and sips her wine. Turning to the wildcat, she smiles and says, "Good day, Sir Scioto. And how are you this dreadful day?"

Scioto answers , "I am doing well, dislike the rain but it will pass most likely soon."

Ragg looks at the raven in mock suprise "so you CAN speak. I thought you had lost your voice compleatly." He smiles at Scioto "I would not count on that. some storms last for weeks and weeks on end." He grins cheerfully and sips his tea.

Scioto says, "Never heard of a storm lasting weeks."

Lenore ruffles her feathers and fineshes her wine. "I'm afraid I must leave now. Good day, Cheiftan." she says nothing to Ragg. Hopping to the door, she opens it and flies off into the rain and thunder and hail.