Shoving open the doors to the tavern...|Lacuna

[azrayel]

Fenrir shouts "My friends!" as he walks up to the bar. He orders a stiff drink and sits himself down. "Any new news today, gentlemen?"

[azrayel]

The bartender drags his rag across the bar, cleaning the counter top of spilled liquor and bar-nuts. The rag might once have been snowy white, but now it's black as coal. It's obvious the bartender only uses it out of habbit, as it's obviously incapable of cleaning anything now. "Aye, ya got a message by carrier pigeon. Your man Stryfe rounded up a few rogue Elementals for ye and is sending them home by caravan. Said he would have done it himself, but he got on the trail of some Storms for ye."
Fenrir arches his eyebrow.
"Storms? It's not like Stryfe to show initiative like that..."
The bartender simply shrugs.
"Aye. Knowing Stryfe, he's got something else on his mind."
Fenrir scowls.
"I don't like it when he does things on his own. If he weren't so damned good at Hunting, I wouldn't put up with it. At least that Tsuki of his minds her business."
The bartender nods his head at that.
"Aye, t'was a good catch, those two. Ya managed to get one Hell of a fighter without any o' the hassle with that one, thanks to the lass."
Fenrir finishes off his drink.
"Well, I've got slaves to train. Property to move. I'll be in later for another round."
Setting down his glass, Fenrir heads out the door and off to his warehouse. The place where dreams are killed.