The spies are at it again!
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]
Tristan sits at the bar, leaning forwards over the wooden bartop. His chin is resting on his paws, and his hood is shrouding his face in shadow like always. His grey eyes still study the room though.
Ragg limps into the tavern, but even if he limps he seems to be happy for his eyes are laughing. He glances around and sees Tristan with a friendly wave.
Lenore enters the tavern and moves over to the bar quickly. She orders a bowl of October Ale, then turns and nods at Tristan. "Good day."
Tristan looks over to the door ask the newcomers enter, noting Ragg's limp and the raven's haste to get to the bar. He nods briefly to each of them before looking back down at the scratched bartop.
Ragg sees Lenore with a dangerous twinkle from his eyes and he says to her "Hello 'friend'" He stresses the word friend. He sits at the bar and orrders himself some water "Hows it going?" He asks Tristan.
Lenore pays the barkeep and sips the cider just as Ragg greets her. She turns to him -- then catches sight of his injured foot. The raven sputters out a laugh, which would've been as spooky as her caw, had it not been muffled by a beakful of cider. The amber liquid flies in the weasels' general direction.
Tristan looks over at Ragg, giving him a look that says he dosen't really feel like talking. He hopes that the raven will distract him enough.
Ragg looks over in time to duck the flying cider. He glares at Her "I am going to take that as an accident..." He slides off his chairs and moves to place by the door.
Lenore gets up and follows the weasel. "What happened to your foot, ferret-face?" she is still laughing, though it is silent now.
Tristan's gaze follows them towards the door, but he still says silent, typical for him.
Ragg eyes suddenly start to shine. an insulting match was always fun "none of your business. Feather brain."
Lenore fluffs up at the insult. "It is too my buisness, you yellow-bellied vermin..." she trails off as a shadow crosses over the window. The raven looks slightly miffed as she turns to walk out the door. She mumbles something thats sounds suspiciously like, "really!" and then she is gone.
