Biensel watched silently as the whole situation unraveled around him. They finally pin pointed the man who they came for, and he had to sit in the darkest, sketchiest corner of the room. He sighed as everything always had to be the hardest, nothing easy. The attack on the way over here, the challenge at the door, and now this.

Oh well, I guess sometimes we just all gotta roll with the punches...
He pulled out his lute and started to strum a soft, slow melody that matched the mood of the smoke filled room. Not anything to fast to get anyone wriled up, but not anything slowly depressing. But he also laced it with the magics that a bard has, subtley trying to make the situation easier for anyone who tries.

He looked down to Ocyari, and smiled. The simpleness of a child he enveyed so much. Adult life is to complicated. He leaned over and whispered to her.

" Come on now, don't look so bored, how about we make a little music? Feel like singing? If not then please, enjoy the sounds of my lute."

He smiled at her, his blonde locks slipping infront of his face, then forcing them back behind his head again with his hand. He chuckled a bit and sat back, continuing to play.

( will play inspire competence)

At first Ocyari doesn't respond, but when Biensel looks over at her again while playing, he sees her eyes are closed, and her hand is lightly tapping the rhythm of the tune on the table. Perhaps it was just chance, or perhaps it was the atmosphere, but Ocyari feels nostalgic.

It's... familiar. Ocyari thinks, What was it?
A memory, no, it is too vague to be considered a memory. She just vaguely remembers the song, not the place where it was sung, nor who the singer was. It feels so, so distant. How did the song begin? It is only a blur, a shadow of a memory, she needed something to shed light on it. She waits. Then, when it seems as though she would just give up, Biensel plays the introduction.

That's it. Ocyari thinks, and takes in a deep breath.
Tsumetai te ni hikiyoserare
Hagareteyuku toki wo sugoshi
Tooku wo mita sono hitomi ni
Nani ga utsutteiru no darou

Tsuki ga terasu tsumetai yubi ni
Koboreta no wa tsumetai namida
Miageta sora itsuka no yume ga
Touku de mitsumeteiru

Kurayami ni te wo sashi nobete
Koko kara wa mou modorenai
Ki ga tsukeba kioku no naka ni
Tozasareta watashi ga mieta

Shinjiteitai anata ga kuru no wo
Itsu no hi ka koko de meguriau made
Kanjiteitai jikan ga tomaru made
Atatakai te de watashi ni furete

Garasu no ori ni torawareteita
Tokenai omoi kizutsuita mama
Modoru koto nai kurayami no mukou
Hikari ga yasas***eiru darou

Kitto mata koboreru hikari
Atatakaku tsutsunde kureru
Genjitsu kara nigeyou to s***e
Daijina mono miushinatteru

Shinjiteitai anata ga kuru no wo
Itsu no hi ka koko de meguriau made
Kanjiteitai jikan ga tomaru made
Atatakai te de watashi ni furete

Tsumetai te ni hiki yoserare
Nagarete yuku toki wo sugoshi
Touku wo mita sono hitomi ni
Nani ga utsurutteiru no darou

Nani ga utsurutteiru no darou

The first stanza sounds almost tentative, although it isn't from hesitance on Ocyari's part; that's just how the song is sung, softly and gently.

Then, in the second stanza, Ocyari sings with a stronger voice, bringing more emotion into it. It sounds almost gentle, but no longer soft, as though she is trying to pierce even the coldest heart there.

Immediately after the second stanza, Ocyari begins the third with the same voice, although the tempo begins to increase, as she passes through the fourth stanza.

There is a pause, where the song slows, and Ocyari sings the fifth stanza with the same softness as the first.

After this Ocyari pauses, and Biensel fills this gap with a contemplative solo of his lute.

The sixth stanza then is sung, beginning with the same tentativeness as the first, but then swiftly moving into the moving flow of the third and fourth, as she sings through the seventh as well.

Then, once again, the song becomes slower, as it reaches the finale, with Biensel playing lightly on the lute. Ocyari sings the last lines gently, only just pushing the last 'ou' before it fades, and the song fades shortly after that with a few last notes of the lute.

Ocyari smiles since she did well, but a couple of tears flow down her cheeks.

Why am I crying? She wonders, brushing them away.

I know it's a slightly a sad song, but that's not the reason...
((Since it doesn't look like anyone has the language of Fey as one of their languages, I'm not going to translate the pretty song ))

The Heart of Darkness
Some Shady Back Alley
Drefast ~Positive Tide is normal
~Negative Tide is rising
When Beinsel started strumming his guitar in the room filled with soft murmur, all eyes were on the companions again. Some stares were filled with annoyance, some with wondering why anybody would try to raise a musical instrument in a tavern like the one they were in. But the tones were true, and masterfully placed, and when Ocyari’s voice piped in, more than a few conversations were paused to listen.

There was no knowing who understood what the child sang, or where such a young being had learned the language of the fey. But the room was enchanted for a moment. Halfway through her song, some of the customers returned to their conversation. The sudden disruption already passed as inferior to their own interests. But others listened until the song was done, and a few faint claps sounded from across the room. One of the vampires got up and, while staring at Ocyari continuously, walked out of the front door. His stare had been on her neck, rather than her face.

After setting a steaming glass on the table, the barkeep spoke loud enough for all to hear, but looking at Percifeer, "You bring him his drink. He's sitting over there in the corner."
Pao waited for a few moments for Percifeer's reaction or suggestions, but when she didn't seem ready, he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a pair of knit gauntlet inserts, placing the left-hand one back into the pouchm, he donned the right one, stood, and picked up the glass wit the gloved hand. It simply wouldn't do to deliver a cold drink when it was meant to be hot.

"I'm going to do this, alone or otherwise. Anyone else care to join me? Without waiting for an answer, he moved around the table, his left hand clutching his visible holy symbol in a brief and fervent prayer for guidance and strength. He headed to where the drink was supposed to go.

As he approached the table, he sought to ascertain details about who or what was seatd there. However, he did not halt or falter in his approach to do so. When he reached the table, he stopped and spoke, without introduction, "Which of you is Virgin Stuart? You have something for me. For us." As he spoke, he placed the drink he carried in the center of the table.

Almost without thinking he had adopted the method of dealing with others that was often used by some of his own superiors in the temple, sure of their position, ability, and knowledge, and letting their reputation power their words. He allowed himself a half-smile, proud of himself that he no longer felt the need to introduce or explain himself as a matter of course.

But this was going to be far from easy, and well he knew that. He had intended to feign bored patience, but found that he actually felt that patience, and calmly awaited an answer or reaction.

As Paomallen stood and picked up the glass, he stated that he was "going to do this, alone or otherwise". Dai was surprised yet again. Paomallen was never what one would call "assertive" or "bullish". At least he wasn't when she was -- --- umm, at the orphanage. But the tone of decision in his voice and his unhesitating movement after that statement was both illuminating and interesting to Dai.

Glancing at the others to see or hear what they had in mind, she detected no immediate reaction to Pao's decisive statement. So, as he passed her, she stood and pivoted on the ball of one foot to fall in behind him and slightly to the left. She still had her staff in the Mouth of the Serpent, carried vertically in her left hand and just an inch off the floor. With both weapon and stance to the same side of him, there was little chance that either of the two of them would interfer with the other's use of their respective weapons. She also affected an exaggerated swagger as she followed Paomallen, quietly "playing at" the bully/bodyguard.

When they arrived at the table and Pao placed the drink on the table, she remained behind and left of him, as if a lackey or hireling, not an equal. But she tilted her staff to be at a forward angle, still keeping it off the floor.

After, his initial query as to who owned the name he sought, Paomallen's delivery was impressively short, givng nothing away. But neither did he ask for, or demand, anything. He seemed to be stating a fact, mutually known to himself and the other. Then he "left the arrow in the other's bow", so to speak, and waited quietly for a response. And so did Dai wait, also, with a blank face and eyes straight forward.

The hair at the back of Ocyari's neck tingles, and a small shiver passes down her spine, as she feels eyes upon her. True, it made sense people would look at her because she was performing, but this was different. It was just a feeling to be wary... but whether it was actually ill will or not, was hard to say. All she could feel was something eyeing her, and she did not like it.

"Don't forget me!" Ocyari says as she steps off of her chair and walks behind the others as they make their way across the room.

As Pao and Dai left the table, Miran leaned back in his chair comfortably. Most recently he decided that Ocyari's safety was his priority and therefore he would not move right away. The other two would have a fine time on their own, talking to Virgin. Besides, not even Miran could miss the hungry looks cast at the young girl after her song.

Pao was right about the plot, Miran decided. If a quick escape was needed, they would be venturing further down the snake's throat with this move. He did a double taken suddenly, as he realized that the little girl would not be returning to the table. His chair hit the floor as he jerked forward, but beyond that he tried to hold onto the façade of indifference as he calmly made his way after the girl. He glanced back at the table, wishing there was a better way he could keep an eye on the girl. If his experience with ten-year olds was anything to go by, changing her mind would likely involve a bit of a comotion, for she would object to literally being dragged back to the table.

Percifeer thought to follow for a moment. In fact, it was enough of a thought that she began to stand right behind him. It was amid this attempt to stand that she realized it was unnecessary. Pao had changed since the orphanage. He was as quick-tempered and aggressive in this investigation as she. A smile curled across her lips as she fell back into her chair, apparently incapable of completing the standing maneuver.

She laughed, falling over on Miran. "Sing another one! More upbeat! The drinks are flowing like water!" She smacked Paomallen on the back as he started to leave with a couple of others. It may not be interpreted properly, but it was her way of saying go for it!
It was going to be a long night for sure, and she couldn't keep up this false drunkenness in front of a crime lord. She'd find herself of better use here, playing the drunken backup. She remained the last resort exit strategy.

The Heart of Darkness
Some Shady Back Alley
Drefast ~Positive Tide is normal
~Negative Tide is rising
Pao stood up alone, but he did not leave the table by himself. Others joined him, while Percifeer stayed behind with Beinsel. Perhaps it was not such a bad idea for some of them to keep an eye on the situation from a distance. The duo saw the group cross the smoke-filled room lead by the glass.

The darkest of shadows were reserved for the far end of the tavern. There were no candles, or even lights of smoke-ware here. This part was drenched in black; a place for people who chose to observe rather than be observed by others. There Pao offered his drink to nothingness, calling forward a name that he had caught from one of the other orphans, who caught it from a rat on the streets.

The reaction he got was perhaps not what he had expected. The few blurry silhouettes that he caught around a shady table started laughing, loudly: a bellow of wicked humor, like hyena’s before jumping a cornered catch. But one of the silhouettes did not move or respond. When the others had reduced their outburst to mere chuckles the person leaned forward. It was a big man with a bald head and a dark tan skin. His face resembled a bulldog’s and was adorned with a multitude of piercings. One of his eyes was only half open and pussed a green liquid. A deep scar hinted that this eye would not close or open, and hadn’t done so in many years. The other eye was alert and displayed wickedly under a firm brow. It went from Pao to Ocyari, where it lingered for a second to look at Dai Lung and finally Miran.

“Not many dare come in here calling me Virgin. You’re either very dumb or you have a death-wish. Still, you bring a drink, and it seems to be my favourite. So what do you want? A knife in your throat or the palm of a hand?”

He spoke matter-of-factly. There was no real telling if he was angry or messing with the orphans. Until they knew, they would have to be cautious.

    Pao was of the opinion that the sudden laughter at his statement was meant to shake Pao and whoever had followed him. He had not looked back to see who would follow, for that would have shown a desire for backup, a weakness. His approach, as he had designed it, was from a position of strength. Not from the position of the precarious unknown they were actually in the middle of. The large man who responded by taking the drink did so with the purpose of letting Pao and any companions see at least his face. And that face was not a pretty sight. Pao had seen worse, but not by much. And the -- man? thing? -- eyed Pao and his companions. Watching the shift of that one functioning eye, Pao guessed that at least two more had followed him, but who? It made no difference. He was not alone, and so was the calmer for it.

    And that calmness that Pao was experiencing could have only been given him by Our Lady of the Protected Souls.

    “Not many dare come in here calling me Virgin. You’re either very dumb or you have a death-wish. Still, you bring a drink, and it seems to be my favourite. So what do you want? A knife in your throat or the palm of a hand?”
    "I am not fool enough to wish for death, but I don't fear it. So let's just call me stupid, then. I -- we -- have come here to find you. As far as the options you have given me, if by palm of the hand you mean a gesture of cordiality, I find the latter more acceptable. You know this symbol."

    With one hand, Pao touches the silver disk on his chest that has an embossed rose in the center, the symbol of Lysora, the Sacred Mother. "I am comfortable wielding Our Lady's gifts. So let's dispense with the posturing and get to it, eh?"

    "We were told you had information that might be useful to us in our endeavor. Ormander Galios runs an orphanage on West Gutterfallstreet. I'm sure you know of it. Recently he has been accused of a theft he did not commit. We seek knowledge of that theft, the reason for it, and who is responsible for it. We have been told you have at least some of the knowledge we seek. Whether we intend to aid that person or to punish is neither relevant nor important to you, as far as I am concerned. We would speak with the person or people involved about our business with them. This is not a demand, nor is it a threat. It is a statement of intent. Now, what is it that you want?"

Ocyari looks back and forth between Paomallen. There was an air of tension between them, no doubt about it, but hopefully it would subside soon; if things came to fighting, it was very unclear how that would work, given the circumstances.

Well, it's not like they'd listen to her anyway, so Ocyari just keeps her mouth closed, considering how to prepare for what might happen. She can feel the anticipation and tension within her as well, as her body tenses, ready to dodge or defend herself as needed.

The laughter at Paomallen's first words didn't last long. Dai Lung felt that it only subsided because it didn't seem to have the desired effect. The cowled man evidently didn't like to be called 'virgin'. A thing to note and remember, she thought. The he offered Paomallen a choice of a 'knife to the throat, or the palm of a hand'. How did the man mean by that? Dai would not ask, for Pao was the speaker in this act of the play. She was in a supporting role and would play that to the very end, for now..

Dai kept her face carefully neutral, but inwardly winced at Paomallen's wording to the man. He spoke with calm deliberation, but there still seemed to be a hint of challenge or quiet belligerence to his phrasing. Maybe he was carefully crafting his delivery, but Dai was no wordsmith, nor was she any kind of negotiator to be able to determine that. But it was done. When Paomallen had stopped at the table, so had she. He had not moved, and she would not move or change her stance until he did so. She knew to show strength and solidarity, but not belligerence or intimidation. She could and would do the former to the best of her ability. The latter would be added when needed.

Stuart chose not to respond to Pao's wielding of his holy symbol, nor did any of the people on his table. If there were undead among them, they knew to keep their fear at bay.

"We were told you had information that might be useful to us in our endeavor. Ormander Galios runs an orphanage on West Gutterfallstreet. I'm sure you know of it. Recently he has been accused of a theft he did not commit. We seek knowledge of that theft, the reason for it, and who is responsible for it. We have been told you have at least some of the knowledge we seek. Whether we intend to aid that person or to punish is neither relevant nor important to you, as far as I am concerned. We would speak with the person or people involved about our business with them. This is not a demand, nor is it a threat. It is a statement of intent. Now, what is it that you want?" Pao sprouted his words now he had a chance for Stuart's attention. And Stuart's attention was caught right away.

"Ah, yes. I know of that orphanage. Ormander does some important work there." He turned to his friends and stated, "Mills came from that place." upon which the others nodded in the shadows.

"I've heard some rumors concerning the theft from Councilor Velch's office, and I am willing to share them with you... IF you're willing to help me out as well."

His one good eye blinked a few times as he took a sip from the drink Pao had brougth him. He smacked his lips, sending spittle over the table.

"Ahhhh, delicious. Now... let's talk business. I don't give information for free, you know."
His hand went under the table and came up with a little pouch, about the size of an apple.
"Deliver this to SatyrMarket 53, and come back tomorrow with the payment you'll receive in return. I'll give you the information in return.
One word of advice though, don't open it up. What's in it is not your problem."

    Stuart's words and manners were nearly cordial, but certainly non-threatening. Pao had no idea whether that was meant to be disarming or misleading or genuine. But it was certainly embarrassing, to Pao. The calm response to his own calm, yet obvious, threats showed more control than Pao had displayed. Lesson learned. Pao would deal courteously until it was no longer necessary.

    When Stuart mentioned Councilor Velch, or rather his office, Pao couldn't keep his eyes from widening slightly. And he understood that what they sought would not come free, but the relatively simple task of delivering the pouch -- unopened and without tampering -- was far less than Pao had expected. "Agreed. Deliver to SatyrMarket 53, and return here, to you, with the compensation the object brings. Package is not to be opened or disturbed."

    Pao reached out and picked up the pouch, then deposited it into his own belt pouch. He then extended his right hand to Stuart, "I believe you offered me an option of the palm of a hand earlier. Here is mine for the transactiion." If Stuart takes the hand and shakes it, Pao will smile genuinely. If Stuart doesn't take the proferred hand, it it no worse than Pao had expected, based on his own introduction, and he will still smile, but it will be a knowing one. Then he will turn, pause for a few seconds to see what the others accompanying him will do, then he will head for their table.

    At the table, he pauses briefly to glance at all of his companions.. "Stay if you wish, for as long as you wish. I will stay no longer. I will regale those of you who stayed back with my folly, and with the result of it, when we are away from this place." He then heads for the door without looking back.

The Heart of Darkness
Some Shady Back Alley
Drefast ~Positive Tide is normal
~Negative Tide is rising
Pao’s extended hand was certainly not ignored. Stuart clapped his right hand into Pao’s and held it in a firm grip. The leathery skin of the shady man felt oily and unpleasant to the touch. His one eye was on the cleric’s hand and inspecting it precisely. Then, with a quick shake, he let go, and the group was free to wander of.

Inside his pocket, Pao could feel the little pouch shift, even though it was so slight that he could’ve imagined it.
Then he was at the table where Beinsel and Perci had been waiting, and told the rest of his departure. Would they go with him? It was getting very late, and though sleep would not fell them for quite a while with all this excitement going on, it would certainly start taking its toll sooner or later.