Kara decided to restate her drink request, since it was unlikely she had been heard over the hammering on the door. "A coffee for me if you've got it. I take it with as much cream and sugar as you can fit. If you don't, some tea would be lovely."
“Not a promise, not an oath, or a malediction or a curse. Inevitable." - Taylor HebertFreyja didn't move nor react. Clearly she was still in shock upon seeing the beast. Mayor Drake was entirely another matter. He simply sighed and blatantly face palmed. Drake's reaction was not without reason, as when Kara drew the knife at the Faun...
...the "monster" threw its arms up in the air, and then screamed in a not so monstrous voice, but rather a muffled young man's voice. "Don't stab me! It was all a joke!". It flailed quite a bit, tripping and falling to the ground, the well-crafted goat mask falling off his face, revealing that it was no monster, merely a teenager with brown hair and freckles in a suit. Apparently the mask hid his real face, and had two bags. One for spraying blood and the other to make that kind of sound.
A face the locals seemed to recognize, because at that moment Freyja snapped out of her daze and began slapping the man's face hard. "PATE YOU IDIOT! HEL TAKE YOU!" The young lovely blonde devolved into incomprehensible Danish slander soon after.
"Okay, that's enough." Mayor Drake grabbed Freyja's hand and Pate's arm at the same time, moving surprisingly fast for someone supposed to be a politician."Pate, we're so going to have a talk..." He added, his semblance becoming dark quickly. The prankster flinched slightly, but made no opposition as the mayor left the tavern with the rascal, murmuring about the "waste of perfectly edible blood."
Eir, on the meantime had already brewed Kara's coffee, which she set in the counter. "That was bold, miss. I don't know whether you figured it out it was a disguise or you're just that reckless, but that boy needs to be taught more lessons in that sense. Just don't be too hard on him, he's well, an orphan."
The old, portly tavern keeper looked at the rest. Shaking her head, she strode towards the kitchen, as if shaking her head in disappointment.
edited 26th Feb '15 12:00:27 AM by AtomicNut
"Whit a coordly wee bairn, ye wur aff by a mile thair wi' yer jocteleg, Jackeen," Willie said with a shrug to Kara as he moved towards the bar, "Ah weel, tis nae fur us tae sturt aboot bit let his maw sort him oot. Noo whaur abouts is ma seicont round?"
edited 26th Feb '15 12:30:07 AM by Fauxlosophe
Wolfgang barely reacts to the entrance of the monster, but, upon the reveal of the man within it, he stands and says quite simply, "It's quite the shame to allow for such fools to be allowed to act upon their foolishness like that. Surely the young men of Goatwood need more... discipline, a tighter grip upon their lives by the people of this village, do they not?"
Kara smiled at Eir's description as she walked up to the bar, her knife already back in her pocket and a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Well, I figured that it was distracted, so it wouldn't notice me. I am actually rather glad the Scot threw me off; I don't think I could actually work up the stomach to kill something, monster or no." She took a sip of her coffee. "Mm! Delicious coffee, thank you very much... Eir, was it?"
edited 26th Feb '15 3:35:35 PM by Tojin
“Not a promise, not an oath, or a malediction or a curse. Inevitable." - Taylor HebertEddings sank back into his chair, looking thoughtful. Just a costume, yet maybe... was the young man simply possessed of a gruesome imagination and bold sense of humor, or could it be that something had influenced him to act as he did, or even inspired the look of his disguise? He would have to ask the boy later.
Grigori gloomily sat down. So quick of me to pass judgement over the stupid boy, he ruminated. not my place to judge. Lest, not yet perhaps. He watched everyone else talking and thought back to his childhood in Goatwood. Playing in the local streams and the warrens. He was almost lost in the past for a moment.
Saint Laughter"Yes, I'm called that. And thank you." Eir smiled faintly. "It's Danish. Long story. " Her gaze wandered over. "I wonder what my Angus will think of this. Two gaelic folks in the town all of a sudden. Now he will probably use both of you to vent his Scottish grumpiness."
The old woman then eyed the Scotman, and with a single arm, she put a glass in front of him, pouring whiskey. "There you go. Second round. Enjoy."
Before she could resume conversation, Eir squinted. "My! If it's the Grigori boy... What in the hell are you doing here? I thought you were roaming the world."
Meanwhile, Freyja stared at Wolfgang's speech. But then she shrugged. He did seem convincent, but she was just the waitress, and there were not many people at the bar. She just stared at her floor, and brought the broom to wipe the mess she herself had caused.
edited 26th Feb '15 4:25:57 PM by AtomicNut
Kara smiled at the mention of "Scottish grumpiness". "Your Angus and this gent will probably hit it off right away, considering that he sounds so Scottish I can barely understand him." Kara turns towards Willie and asks "By the way, I don't believe I caught your name. Would you mind telling me? Mine's Kara."
edited 26th Feb '15 4:35:13 PM by Tojin
“Not a promise, not an oath, or a malediction or a curse. Inevitable." - Taylor HebertMartin looked up when he heard his name called and it took him a moment to recognize Eir. He greeted her and said, "Ah, yes well, fought in the War. Bloody savage it was, for all involved." He shook his head, "Then I sort of picked up the cloth and then... here I am. Tell me, how is the village? How are mum and dad?"
edited 26th Feb '15 4:42:53 PM by WolfAmongGods
Saint Laughter"Tapadh leat," Mac Dougal said with a nod to the old woman then turned to Kara, "A pleisur a'm sure, me Jackeen. A'm ca'd Willie by me freends, bit ye? Ye shuild ca' me by Mac Dougal."
He paused and looked at her apprehensively before asking as one might someone far younger than them, "Howfur is lee thareoot a th' auld Pale? 'N' yer coffee, is that weel-kent noo ower thare whaur yer fae?"
edited 26th Feb '15 4:56:12 PM by Fauxlosophe
Eir hesitated slightly, and stuttered a couple of times. Obviously, she wasn't expecting the question coming from Martin at all. She did manage to blurt a reply on the end. "Weren't you told by the mayor? That damned bastard..." She gritted her teeth."...the thing is. My comdolonces, Martin. Both passed away last month." She blurted out. "I thought that was your reason to be here. To pick up the will from the priest, Renzi."
There seemed to be more to it than Eir was willing to tell, because she was breaking eye contact constantly. But wether she wanted to deceive Martin on purpose or she was just being polite to not disturb the tavern mood with gruesome news was not clear.
Kara smiled uncertainly, hoping she had understood Mac Dougal right. "It's actually quite similar to Ireland. It's a pleasant surprise." She took another sip of her coffee. "I picked up the coffee habit on my... honeymoon in Bermuda, from my..." She stops and clears her throat. "From my fiancé."
“Not a promise, not an oath, or a malediction or a curse. Inevitable." - Taylor HebertMartin was shocked at the news but it dulled quickly. He had seen how uncomfortable Eir had become and decided to drop it. He would find out soon enough when they got away from the foolish tavern. "I... I'm sure I should have seen this coming." He sips from his glass.
Saint Laughter"Its guid tae ken ye'r nae wanting fur yer Grafton strait or yer Trinity or yer 'Mericay even 'ere, me Jackeen," Mac Dougal said as he raised his whiskey, "bit masell a'd sooner fin' th' hielands at th' bahookie o' mah gless. Sae if tis a' alike tae ye, then slàinte."
With that he took a sip and turned back around to the bar, setting his glass down.
"Eir, wis it that ye wur ca'd?" He asked the bartender indicating the radio, "cuid ye pat oan th' tranny? Thare shuid be an the Aberdeen match oan aroond noo."
edited 1st Mar '15 1:38:51 AM by Fauxlosophe
Eir bit her lip, eyeing the young Grigori up and down, before pouring another one hurriedly on him. "This one's on me. Take your time. And you too." She also included the brooding irishwoman in the statement. The old woman sighed, and patted him in the shoulder, before being called by the other patron.
"What's with men and football?" The bartender grumbled as she reached for the radio and lazily flicked the switch, and began manipulating the dial. After some fumbling, something resembling coherent narration was heard, and then...
Your souls are forfeit! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The radio screamed in a deep, gutural voice, which made Eir reel in surprise. Even Freyja made a small yelp and let go of her mop momentarily.
"...and this is the end of today's radionovella, The Devil Stairsteps! See you tomorrow." A cheesy narrator voice promptly defused the weird atmosphere. The old woman grumbled "Stupid radio" and proceeded to tune the right match frequency. Soon, the usual football match banter invaded the entire tavern...
...and someone knocked in the door again.
edited 2nd Mar '15 4:23:49 AM by AtomicNut
As the door swung slowly, Eddings could see two figures in the rain. One tall and one short. The taller of the duo patiently awaited despite the downpour. He was wearing a gray cloak to protect himself from the rain,and he had quite a large walking stick, almost as if shaped like a staff. He was well built, with an impressive gray beard, and he was wearing a kilt.
"Look at that, Snorri. New faces." The man said in a strong Highlands accent as he invited himself to the tavern, wringing his clothes just inside the pub."And football!" He cracked a joke. "Now, if the wee lass over there would pour me old self a drink, I would be obligued." The man stared at Eir.
"Angus, If i'm a wee lass, you're a fompy english Gentleman." The old woman smiled back and poured some high-grade alcohol in a glass.
"That wasn't very nice." Angus frowned at the backtalk, but he quickly snatched his drink and gulped it down in one go.
Meanwhile, his other companion, which was somewhat shorter but heavy-set, folded a rather somber umbrella, revealing a balding head with a large beard aswell. He simply grunted as a greeting and lumbered right next to Angus.
Eir sighed, and stared at him. "Same as always, Snorri?"
The man nodded, and in no time he had a mug of ale that he was cradling like his most precious treasure. In the meantime, the young waitress Freyja had managed to clean the mess she had made and advanced towards Angus, gently taking his coat from him to hang.
"How was the day, dad?" The teenager asked towards Angus.
"...err..." The old scotsman looked around."First why don't you explain me why is there a blood puddle there on the floor and on that other lass? And second, who's the fellow Aberdeen fan?" He paused for a second. "And...well, who are all of you new folks, in general? So many new faces."
Freyja spat a single word, her face contorted in a pout of epic proportions. "Pate."
"Nasty lad, that one." Angus pondered. "I should've broken my staff in his ribs when i had the chance to do so! But the priest wouldn't like it." He finished with a shaking fist.
Eir coughed. The conversation was getting awkward by the moment. And it would not look nice that Angus started slandering about the hundred and one punishments he would inflict on the boy, so the tavern owner interjected. "Have you checked the farms?"
"Aye, I did." Angus replied. "Couple of sheep dead. I'll be damned on who was the culprit. Probably the same idiot who broke a tomb in the cemetery. It was a man, no matter how Hills will bullshit it away as a wolf attack. If that twat wasn't too busy hunting a tiny badger he would see that!"
It was at that moment when Eir looked at Snorri, whom he silently nodded to the tavern owner. The blacksmith pat Mac Fergus' shoulder, then making a gesture of "Not worth keeping at it, Angus". The scotsman stared at them both, and then at Freyja.
"Bah!" He finally conceded, and focused on listening on the match, and possibly talk with the newcomers.
"The granite city?" Mac Dougal replied with a smile, "Thir's a richte guid sign. Whit clan dae ye hail fae?"
He took another sip, "is guid tae see thir's mair company than sassenachs, jackeens 'n' toorists aboot, 'n' it soonds lik' ye cuid dae fur a better shepard. It soonds lik th' yin ye hae is a gowk wha he cannae tell a wolf fae a jimmy.".
edited 4th Mar '15 4:48:58 PM by Fauxlosophe

Willie laughed for a moment and then turned to the server.
"Freyja, Ah cuid dae fur annur dram," Willie said picking up his empty glass, "'n' git th' taffy lassie a round oan Laird Drake as weel. 'N' a seicont oan me, if she kin git some blood oot fae th' sassenach "
edited 25th Feb '15 8:27:39 PM by Fauxlosophe