The Forgotten Eclipse Tavern & Inn

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Gryphon Stewart
The Town Mayor

Gryphon smiled to the woman. "I'll walk you there myself." He offers a gentlemanly arm to her and will escort her to The Town Hall, if she accepts.
She smiles back as she steps closer to the gentleman, hooks her arm around the one offered to her, "Why thank you. That's very nice of you..but, I hope its not taking you out of your way.." she replied again with another smile to him.
Having left the park and returned back at his tavern his eyes squinting a little as the high noon sun began to loom over head. His left hand slipped into his pocket and withdrew a simple silver colored key. Walking towards the double doors to the eclipse he placed the key upon the window and the doors and windows unlocked them selves. Turning the door knob he moved into the main hall of the tavern his shoulders dropping a little as he looked at the mess he had left for himself to clean up. Moving between the tables and chairs he reached the counter and walked around it quickly. As he took his standard spot he stood looking towards the front doors waiting for some more customers. While he waited he collected the cups and glasses from his earlier customers and put them in the dish washer. He knew it was a good idea to get one instead of hand cleaning each and every glass, and one he would have to put in place at the other eclipses when he had the chance.
Stumbling into the Tavern the woman falls to the floor, her body bloody and beaten. With her last ounce of strength she raises her head to see a figure standing behind the bar. Reaching her arm out, "help.... me".

Weakened from the loss of blood and the brutal attack which occurred just moments earlier she passes out.
Mith looked over the counter as the woman entered a look of displeasure over came his lips as he looked to the blood she had gotten on the carpet near the door. She then spoke his eyes rose to her as she slumped into unconsciousness. "Son of a Bitch!.......Why do they always get blood on the carpet" He said in an irritated tone as he hopped over the counter and looked at the woman she was certainly not in good health nor in good spirits. Kneeling down at her side he felt a twinge from his side. Sliding his arms under her he hefted her up and moved to the counter. Setting her there he moved quickly taking note of the serious wounds and the simple abrasions. First things first seemed to follow as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water pressing it to her lips as he spoke loudly in a commanding tone " Drink" holding the glass with one hand he pivoted and grabbed the bottle of Vodka and began pouring it over the more serious gashes. It was not a perfect solution but it would at least disinfect the wounds before he did any magic to repair her injuries.
In her weaken state she lay there taking her last breath just as the tavern owner's words echoed within her ears, eyes fluttered as she tried to regain conscieness. Then the burn of the alcohol became reality and she let out a soft cry of displeasure. Realizing what he had said she attempted to drink but choked upon the liquid.

Aleita's flesh was torn from the creatures claws and teeth. I obvious bite mark was there upon her neck, blood still ran from the wound as well as from the multiple gashes throughout her body.
Mithrandir Shook his head as she chocked on the water and began to chant something in a feint Silvian elvish dialect. He could feel the wound on his side starting to open up as he chanted the spell it was painful certainly but with out help there was a strong chance the woman would die. Holding his hands away from her a moment before pressing them tightly to her throat wound first he hoped to stop the possibly fatal injury first.
Darren Darglore

Optional to read from a different thread on Darren coming to the town.

He crossed the threshold, the sign said welcome. And he had a feeling he just may be welcome. He had money for a meal or two and a room for a few nights. For the first time in years he smiled.

Hopes of delusion crossed his mind, was he just being paranoid? Could his brother really come back from the dead? Noone ever returned from where his weapon put the un-pure, but his brother was not just the un-pure, his brother was Vaticus Darglore.

Even the name made his blood run cold, the feeling of those metallic fangs ripping into his neck returned forcing him to stumble on weary legs through the doorway if only barely being able to catch himself on the entry way of The Forgotten Eclipse Tavern and Inn.

Embarassement was not one of Darren's weak points, he didn't get mad at himself or blush, he merely looked in the direction of those that watched this clumsy old man longer than appropriate before looking to the bar where he assumed he might find the owner of this establishment, fully expetcing to see Vaticus instead.
The mind lingered on the memories of a forgotten world, where every-day occurances happened in constructs crafted for the entertainment of men. Women degraded themselves for a few pieces of coin in order to survive in a world that thought they deserved no better. Men abused the women of such simple mindset, who thought they truly were no greater than the rats that nested in rotting corpses. So why, in every kingdom in history, was a woman responsible for the fall of its glory? Few women played with the dark side of ambition, causing Kingdoms to fall with a gentle whisper. Men, no matter how dark others perceive their heart to be, always fall victim to the one woman they could not tame. Whether physical pain, mental anguish or the most horrific atrocities commited could not break their spirits, men were enthralled. They fell in love with the only thing in the world that would not break at their call.

A reddened hue decorated the arc now evident 'pon soft lips- such fond memories of a world long forgotten were the only things that could bring a smile to this vixens face. The thick stench of blood, sweat and alcohol permeatd throughout the milieu, strengthening as she drew toward the tavern. Years ago the smell would've caused her nose to curl in disgust, but now... it brought calm to the beast within. It has been a long, long time since this Lady was in the presence of an authentic tavern.. just like the one at home. A flicker danced between both eyes when the reflection of one was captured within those fathomless pools. Darren Darglore- my how he got old. Of course, that was the fate of mortals. They lived only to die in the end. She said nothing, simply watched as he strode into the tavern. She'd follow, eventually. But, for now, she simply lingered outside, watching all those who chose to enter and exit the tavern. She was still astonished that something like this still existed in her lifetime.
Darren Darglore

Noone, The tavern had no tender or at least appeared to have none, but in the middle of the day....why? A sigh escaped those chapping lips.

What was this!?

He felt the icy brush of fingers lifting against his spine, the sensation unique enough that he actually bent at the spine and rolled his shoulders before straightening...

what was this? The words played in a repeated fashion against the soft drumming of his inner thoughts...what was this?

Eyes, he felt the stare, cold and devouring. Eating his vision from the outside in, he felt the danger and sexuality that watched him from none to far away, he felt the euphoria of a woman he at one time fell for only to be scorned by her lust for his brother, he felt Novelly Skyefyre, the woman who was his only in the washing of her brain by yet another fiend...Oh yes he made deals with the devils themselves, he was not pure, but now he fought to redeem the few mishaps of his youth.

He fought the urge to turn, he fought the urge to go to her, hear her stories, ask her questions, probe her mind for information and perhapse even give her a second chance. But he wouldn't...he couldn't...or could he....would he?

Momentarily he turned his head and looked towards Novelly, giving her the softest stare she may have ever recieved, this was not the same Darren she at one time knew, this was a man who lost everything, this was a man given no second chances in life, a man alone, a man who gave so much to humanity and recieved nothing in return save for the death of his entire family and the one woman who truly loved him.

A shell of the greatness he at one time resembled, and what some would call a dying breed, a mortal who would stare death in the face and come out on top, a man who believed in and gave second chances to the worst of the worst and helped the weariest of souls come back from the despair of this wretched land and it's minions, but where were they when he needed the favor returned.nowhere to be found. Darren Darglore, alone. He turned from Novelly and entered the tavern, hoping she would follow, it would be nice to chat with her again.

No..he couldn't...he felt that inevitable tang well up with in his gut, could he? She was unique, she had an entire realm at her disposal, a plane at her finger tips Eternity. She had the means to restore his youth, she had what it took to give him that second chance he gave to so many others, to relive those years lost helping the unthankful of this realm. He deserved that much didn't he? A chance to live his life the way he wanted too.
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Mithrandir had only taken a small amount of time between healing the wounded woman and hearing the main door. He had set his unconscious visitor upon the sofa in his office, and written thirty eight specific notes all saying the same thing in different languages as he was uncertain what language she could read. Walking back into the main hall of the tavern his eyes slid over the hard wooden floor and meet an elderly man just a tad beyond the thresh hold. It seemed someone had caught his attention behind him but he had not turned around to face them. Perhaps it was arthritis or perhaps it was someone the man feared. As Mithrandir moved behind the counter he spoke in a loud booming voice that he used primarily when the house was full.

"Welcome to the Forgotten Eclipse Tavern and Inn my good Sir!" He said his voice cheerful and welcoming hoping to perhaps not allow the man to be perhaps butchered in the door way it seemed of late many people were being attacked in the street and the business with the park , IT was even enough to make Mithrandir start longing for a day at home by the fire just smoking his pipe and reading of fantastical things and creatures like the Wendersnaven. He knew the man seemed to be in need of something to drink , or a place to stay maybe even a meal to eat, as those were typically the reason anyone would enter a tavern, unless you had been attacked by some random creature and needed help but this man did not have that appearance thankfully.

Turning quickly he grabbed a tall glass and dunked it into the near frozen water basin. then grabbed a napkin and set the glass upon it on the counter for the man. His eyes watching carefully between the man and the door wondering if he would need to get another water ready before they were ready for something with a bit more of a kick, but as it was only noon it may have been a bit early to expect the heavy drinkers.
Waning candlelight reflected within sapphire pools, glinting slightly as she turned, noticing Darren looking back over his shoulder. She gave no forward advance, just the satisfaction of her noticing his stare. She received other looks like this, whether in the thralls of passion or the ackward moments where emotion truly mattered. Rare were those occurances, but within the span of her lifetime, they did exist. - Though all were met with betrayal and the sacrifice of yet another piece of the heart. Shoulders rolled, fingertips drawing the cloak tighter against her lithe form. This world just wasn't hot enough to soothe the beast within.

As Darren turned to enter the tavern, her nostrils curled. A derisive snort escaped, and her attention turned toward the building itself. Should she enter? The liquids and foods of the these taverns couldn't calm the raging hunger, nor quench this never-ending thirst. She was always hungry, always thirsty- for what? Power, wealth, glory? There was only one thing she hungered for, one thing she could steal from that which she touched.. and it was never enough.

Tendrils of sable slithered across her countenance, snaking their way along delicate features only to be absorbed into her skin. It knew when it was being thought of- Darren wished something of it, and it knew. Flaxen strands fell in ringlets 'gainst her countenance. She always fancied curls, for one reason or another. Repeated steps drove her toward the front of the tavern until her silhouette lingered in the frame. Ever alert, her gaze swept through the building- was she nervous? Did she fear something lurking within? Paranoia was a parting gift for having seen the hells as many times as she has- and being torn from her sweet surrender for anothers' purpose to match. "You aren't the only one that can read thoughts, old man." Venom wove itself within a voice of succor; such a sweetness could never be feigned. Though- it'd be an understatement to say she was happy to see him. One is never happy to see the thorn when it was removed from their side.
Darren Darglore

Startled perhapse, those near hazel iri' stripped upwards from the floor boards and the other patrons of this establishment to the welcoming boom of it's apparent host giving him reason to leave the tavern's entry way and the immediate view of that beautiful rose, one not absent of her thorns.

Sandaled feet were what carried him, that staff. The Luminex pounding it's butt end against the newly layed wooden floor in his persuit of the counter and glass of water meant for his quenching.

"Thank you."

Those words were cut off in an obvious stare, as if looking for a name tag of sorts to place this mans face with, but when none was seen he perhapse startled his host by saying it.


Frozen in place, his hand just now grabbed his refreshment before he felt the visage of those fingers, cold nails sliding the course of his spine one more time, how ever this time it was not taken as a surprise and he could suppress the need to arch his back or even shiver. He did how ever turn to meet this picturesque beauty, perfection in every form to his old eyes...She was what he called eye candy.

"It would appear not, wouldn't it, pretty girl.."

Finally he allowed that glass of water to meet his dried lips and tongue, an instant satisfaction from far more than a sip as to perhapse nearly the entire glass.

"Ah.. I can see...your still upset about the deal I struck with Syrvix..That was...a life time ago and I was wrong for thinking that it could be that simple."

Once more the glass would meet his lips, finishing the contents of that liquid satisfaction before returning the glass to it's napkin.

"But it is good seeing you again Novelly...I was beginning to feel like I was the last of our time...silly I know seeing as I am probably the only one that will die of old age."

Chuckled lightly, allowing himself to take a seat at the bar, he was going to pat the stool next to him in offering but he knew Novelly would find some way to turn a simple gesture against him and so...he declined offering it before returning to look at his drink hoping it would be full again.
Mithrandir stared hard at the man a moment his silver eyes running over his every feature. However Mith was unable to recall this man which meant some type of telepathic,extra sensory perception or temporal abilities. Clearing his throat as he looked upon his guest he thought of interrupting a moment but decided to allow the old friends to reminisces. Mithrandir started getting another glass of water ready and set it upon the same napkin as Darren set his first glass there before, he looked to the woman Darren had been addressing. He had hear her mention reading ones thoughts it was not an ability he was unfamiliar with in the least but he typically did not use it for such petty things as learning a name from someone that was conscious.

"Pardon me, Madam is there something I can get for you ? we have numerous wines ales, and spirits, as well we serve food, Today we have vegetable soup with steak and a baked potato" he said calmly. Grabbing the spent glass Darren had used Mith set it in the sink under the counter filled with soapy water. Before grabbing a glass and filling it with Vodka, then adding a small vial of a thick red syrupy liquid, and began to stir it awaiting a reply but he was unsure if this woman would reply she seemed rather ridged.
He was the subject of narrowing eyes, drawing old memories from the depths of her subconscious and allowing them to surface. And idle twitch allowed her top lip to begin to curl, yet for some reason or another she subdued her wild emotions and the moment died. "The dark side of ambition is always thwarted by those that still believe there's some fragment of the Novelly Skyefyre that was mortal, and who only held Caldin in her eyes." Her nose twitched- that name always brought with it a cold stare toward the darkness. "...Before the ambitions of others and the tricks of the mind corrupted her heart."

Her eyes swept toward the stool next to him. She chose rather, to stand. Trust was something that bled from her, with every cut and scrape.. with every bruise and mental laceration. She softly chuckled- him mentioning dying of old age. Novelly, in essence, would've been aging just as he, if others wouldn't have found it in themselves to change that which wasn't theirs. "I've died many times, and have seen the hells in all their glory. I know what awaits me when finally I'm allowed to rest, and my soul is free.. for every atrocity I've commited.. it is tenfold where I will be spending the rest of eternity." Her head tilted, fingertip scratching along her jawline. "But... Warlords and Gods, Kings and Emperors found it in themselves to tear my soul from the twisting netherworld to fulfil their corrupt desires.. Otherwise I would've died from old age long ago.. but they saw fit to reconstruct what I was.. Always making me look.. mortal, helpless." Again her nose twitched, and her fingertip scratched the bridge of her nose. "Blame them for not allowing me to rest.. and with this new development.. I doubt I'll be sleeping any time soon."

Her eyes rolled toward the new voice in the conversation, offering food and drink. Such was an offer that hadn't touched her ears in a long, long time. "No, thank you.. I've not traveled far enough to work a thirst or hunger." She laughed, softly. "But should I acquire any I will request. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Be glad, Darren, that no monster decided to recreate you in their image. Not all of us are as lucky as those that get away."
Darren Darglore

Reminisced in those words, those thoughts curtailing on memoir's of times when he was young, when he fought The Hidden Lord, or dueled with Swarm Lightbane, when Scorn DarkTide's own children were on his venue of vengeance, the days of high adventure and sorcery.

When he looked back to Novelly she could see the glower in his eyes, the want in his soul, to do things now out of his reach.

"M'lady Skyefyre...I've been the subject their experiments, I've been toyed with and recreated, but I've always been strong enough to break free..Perhapse ill advised given my current state."

Finally cusping that glass one more time he would allow it's brim to reach his lips, downing the first portion of it's contents before nodding slightly to Mithrandirxx, whence he placed the glass back 'pon that napkin he'd find a silver coin lying next to it, Novelly would regain his attention shortly after.

"Your kind are all the same, you envy our freedom, and our ability to grow old and go peaceful, but that isn't what we have. I've fought my entire life for that privilege and I've not seen a day of peace. I'll die an old man that never got to taste my god given right.

Caught the stare Novelly lowered towards the stool next to him, somehow he felt satisfied in her negative outtake. This woman who could wrip him to shreds with but a twitch of her finger was...paranoid, twenty or thirty years ago she would be wise to have paranoia around him, but now...he was an old man..

"Now I'd give anything to experience what you do, I already live the same life as you I just lack the more mentionable boon's that you privvy, I would not call that lucky.."

Taking in a deep breath or two he turned back to his glass about to grasp it's cold, sweating form when he lurched, nay jumped out of his seat if only to come landing 'pon his ass on the floor none to far away, staring at Mithrandirxx, those cold hazel eyes laquered in fear and uncertainty, a taint that soon fell away..He saw Vaticus one more time..

"I'm sorry...Mithrandir, you see...I killed my brother some years ago...and now he haunts me..Another punishment for my good deeds..Vaticus Darglore, my brother killed my entire family, and then tried to kill me..Out of desperation I sent him to the other side...And now..."

He grew silent, memories...the worst kind were his greatest curse.
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Mithrandir's eyes narrowed a moment as if he were in deep thought before nodding to the lady kindly and picking up his drink and taking a long draft from it savoring the flavor of the drink and shifting it upon his pallet before swallowing the sweet drink he had mixed. Calmly glancing between the patrons well guests he supposed as neither seemed all that keen to order something more than water. Catching sight of the silver coin as Derran set down the glass.

Mithrandir knew when he should and should not enter a conversation so he decided to remain outside of their civil discussion although it was about that time Darren leaped back in fright. It not something Mithrandir had expected but still he didn't seem all that shocked to watch it happen. " Are you alright ? " he said before Darren seemed to snap out of his delusion. Mithrandir listened carefully to what Darren had to say in regards to his fright " Yet with such a haunting clouding your mind It sounded like you wanted a longer life one to be plagued by the memory of this brother. I do not believe it wise to desire longer life if it is only to be a cursed existence, but worry not about me my good sir, but please rise and retake your seat, lest other patrons may enter and believe the chairs are only for decoration". He said calmly his eyes raising a moment to the woman once again before he tried to sense if indeed there was a similar presence here as there had been in the park.
Slowly and in a disinterested pace, a figure walked along the dakened path. No footfalls could be heard on the muddied trail, nor the rustling of cloths. It moved along like an apparition of sorts. Soon, the glow of lights would appear within the distance, and as the figure drew closer the outline of a building would appear. Still, the figure moved on forward as if not careing where it went and soon it came close enough to the building to be able to discern the sounds of voices. Some were happy and cheerful while others were much less so. They were the sounds that could only belong to a tavern. It didn't take long for the figure to aproach said tavern, and when it reached the very short walkway to the door, it stopped and turned in it's direction. There it stood as if contemplating on whether or not it wanted to step inside. Apparently, it had decided with it, for the stranger moved to the door. The door would open and the light revealed that it was a woman who appeared to be about twenty years in age. Long raven black hair cascaded down to her mid back in a tight braid and her skin was pale though slightly tanned. A black belly shirt covered her torso and there were black pants to match it. Over both articles of clothing was a long black trench coat in which the bottom of it was tattered and ripped from use; as well as indications of dried mud and what would apear to be old blood.

Slowly, the woman began to move across the floor towards the bar, the usually creaky floorboards didn't make a sound as black hiking boots stepped on them. Her eyes gazed about her as she walked, studying everything as she passed them. Her eyes were multi-colored which produced a kelidoscope like effect with the colors of green, blue, black, red, purple, and just a hint of orange and yellow. Soon, she came across an empty stool at the bar. It was there that she decided to sit and rest for a bit. Seconds after she had taken her seat, she searched out for a bar tender. It was then that her eyes rested upon Mithrandir. A small smile barely crossed her lips. "Well, well. What have we here?" She spoke aloud.
Pupils shrank to but a pinprick when the last bit of his breath spoke of murder. The further narrowing of her eyes followed. Atlast, she finally found the one that broke the only true loyalty she held. Instinctively her fingertips brushed over the insignia scathed into her shoulder- the only physical 'imperfection' that marked her form. Ironically, it had been the symbol of the very man he said he killed. For the first time in years, that mark gave her pain; it felt as though it were though being reapplied to her flesh.

So cruel the grin that formed 'pon lips of red. None could fathom the thoughts swirling inside the labyrinth of her mind, and truth be told... such thoughts were never kind. "It's hard to fight off the desires of others, when my soul has been passed through trinkets and the hands of warlords as though it were some priceless heirloom. My will was reduced to nothing against the one that held such a worthless item.. So worthless, yet worth everything." Her head tilted toward the right- left jawline tilting heavenward.. recollecting the last bits of his words. She laughed. A full, hearty laugh at his wanting to be like her. "Had you been anyone else, I would have gladly accepted the offer. But, you are still Vaticus' brother.. and if the twisting nether he calls his heart holds any 'love' for you, I'll not tarnish you. And if he seeks revenge for what you've done to him, I'll not break you. You are his flesh and blood; and until he commands me to avenge him, you are.. immune.. to me." The bridge of her nose curled slightly. She caught wind of the scent of blood heavily polluting the air around and within the tavern. Why is it that every tavern she visits.. someone can't stop themselves from bleeding?

Her eyes dug into his form; she was trying to find something either within him, or on his person. "..Well, I'd accept the offer if you had a soul to barter with." The cruelty of her grin only grew with the mentioning of souls. Hers floated around for years- why not strip others of their own to make them feel as she feels? Empty.

A breath was drawn inwards, held and finally exhaled. "So you're the reason why I've been wandering aimlessly for years after my parting from The Hidden Lord. Killed your brother.. simply for killing your family.. Ridding you of the weakness of the heart." Had she been so lucky in the years prior to her own corruption- that beating muscle was only another problem that could've been resolved earlier. "At least he did it with some mercy, though you never fully told the story. I can only imagine by your words that he simply killed them, without mercy and without emotion." Her eyes trailed back up to his countenance. "I would have chained you to the wall and forced you to watch every torturous moment for the rest of your family, and left you there to rot in your own misery..." Her eyes lit up- another fabulous idea! "Or I would have made you do it, yourself." Another chuckle- this one simply drug onward until it rolled into the next word. "And you want to be like me."

Such were the wonders of the female species. None could refuse their charm- for good, or for evil.
Darren Darglore

The excitement left his eyes, his words were blunt, to the point, and straight forward.

"I am sure my brother wishes revenge 'pon my flesh for what I've done, or perhaps he thanks me for putting him out of his insanity but you are right, my story does lack some more minor details..."

Looking back towards the floor, he followed the crevice, the cracks, the outline of this taverns craftsmanship until he got to the one thing that it all paled in comparison too, the perfection of the female body, Novelly Skyefyre.

"What you don't know is that your the reason my brother is dead, your the reason he went insane. He left the side of Gargauth to be with you, and with out The Hidden Lord to guide him he lost his...sense of direction so he came to the one place he remembered...his home."

Once more his eyes lowered, the smell of blood Novelly so keenly picked up on was lost to him. And yet he could still feel the blood on his hands, his brothers blood as well as the blood of a thousand fiends, murderers and rapists. Justice was lain by those hands. And it was those hands that revealed the truth behind his words in the pulling of his shirts collar revealing those two vicious scars on his shoulder and two more on his neck, fang like punctures surrounded by bumps of healed over flesh.

"And with out his guide to point him in the right direction he did what he was good at, kill. He didn't discriminate from his family, he simply killed, it was the right thing to do, kill him that is."

Recalling those moments, reliving them in his head one more time forcefully squeezed a tear or two from his eyes, oh he tried to hold them back, it was impossible. The moment replayed itself in his psyche daily, but it always seemed to hit hardest when he talked about it. Such was human emotion, he killed his brother.

Ignoring her finality in his wanting to be like her he stroked the metallic shaft of The Luminex for she knew what he meant. The long life, the infinite power, he could never truly be like her, a murderous fiend or tortured soul. The Luminex would never let him become something of that nature, ah yes, The Luminex, his guiding light in a darkened kingdom, the true hand of justice behind his name.

"Maybe fate has brought us together for just such a reason..Novelly I doubt for us to be together, but help one another. Although for that to work you would have to open your mind and become a little less hard headed."

With the sealing of those words Darren allowed himself to finish the final droplets of his drink before setting that frosted glass 'pon the napkin one more time and alerting his eyes to the newest guest of this establishment, he could read words, and the manner in which Tyrsis' were spoken lacquered trouble.

"So Novelly...why do you think we ran into each other, if not coincidence?"
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