"Well, that isn't very nice." Reralae murmurs aloud, setting down her quill and waiting for the few paragraphs she's written to dry.

Reralae's hand is raised to her mouth in her typical thought motion, and she sits quietly for a moment, just thinking.

Lowering her hand, Reralae begins, "Well, who would we know that would most likely steal it? Grugg is a possibility, and last I saw him, he was in the Whom Gods Annoy room considering an update. Hmm, I'm afraid I can't think of anyone else offhand."

Reaching down, Reralae picks up her staff, "Well, I'll be back in a moment; I guess I'd better do some updating."

With that, Reralae leaps up the stairs and is lost from view, leaving her books on the table as another indication that she will return.

Amidst the panicked announcement by Almerin and the small clamour that followed, few noticed the door to the Inn open and yet another visitor enter. The soft thud of the door closing drew the assembled throng's attention to the new arrival, and what an eye catching arrival he was.

The man stood just over six feet tall, the man was well toned and tanned, his exquisite, soft brown hair hanging in a neat ponytail halfway down his back, and his baby blue eyes sparkled in the light. His apparel, though not flashy, seemed perfectly fitting for the man, complementing his form and making him seem even more handsome. Using the moment of silence gained by his entrance, he took a moment to address the group, his voice exceptionally charming but yet at the same time, very down to earth.

"I hear tell of a missing cake, but have no fear, for I have arrived to rectify this situation."
We walked slowly through the Inn, and as he passed the innmates they were immediately assailed by his wonderful scent, a combination of fresh air and roses, reminding the group of past days spent in a favored field of their youth.

"Before I embark on this endevour however, I shall need refreshment.", he said, his voice warming the room with every word.

Giving a smoldering stare at the barmaid he approached her, taking her in his arms and sweeping her off her feet. He whispered but a few words in her waiting here, causing her to blush and giggle furiously before he set her down and she hurried to behind the bar, returning seconds later with a horn of the finest mead, which this new arrival downed in a single swig.

Wiping the corner of his mouth with a finely embroidered napkin (which his deft hands and drawn from his pocket faster than your eyes didst percieve!) he gave a quick glance to the table where Lyskhala, Merideth and formerly Reralae had been sitting.

"Not a moment more of fretting dear ladies, if I do nothing else, I shall recover dear Alacrity's birthday cake and there shall be celebration once more!"
At that, he leapt up the stairs, disappearing from view.

There was a moment of pure silence, and the Innmates had just recovered from their brush with perfection when a loud thump was heard. Followed by an even larger Thump! And finally...the largest THUMP! those assembled had ever heard. This was immediately followed by a flurry of activity as a large mass came sailing down the stairs at high speed, crashing into the ground and rolling into an unattended table, knocking it over and leaving a general mess in the corner.

The barmaid rushed over, pushing a fallen chair from the way to reveal the Inn's newest arrival, his clothes and hair town, his eye blackened and a few teeth missing from his once perfect smile. He looked up at her for just a moment before his eyes fluttered and he fell back, completely unconcious.

The following silence was broken only by the shouted announcement from a room upstairs followed immediately by a violent slamming of a door.

"GRUGG IS BUSY EATIN' CAKE! NO MORE FANCY MANS DISTURBING HIM NOW WHILE IS HUNGRY! BLAR!"

The announcement of a stolen birthday cake caught Draco by surprise. Evidently this Alacrity person was someone of note, and evidently well-liked, at the very least.

Then came the arrival of the most recent entrant to the Inn, hard on the declaration of he theft. As the man passed the gaming table where Draco was attempting to end his stint of losing, the scent of the man reminded Draco of the words of the well-known bard, Ian Anderson:

"One dusky half-hour's ride up to the north,
There lies your reputation and all that you're worth.
Where the scent of wild roses turns the milk to cream.
Tell your mother that you walked all night on velvet green."
It was hard to look away from this presence, this charmer of women, this obvious hero. As the man went upstairs to set the situation a-right, Draco followed him with his eyes, wondering if one could go to school to be like that, or if one was born with, or to, it.

Even more quickly than the man had mounted the staircase, he came sailing down from the balcony, landing on an unoccupied table, splintering the quality wood and bouncing off it to land on the floor with only slightly less force.

Draco turned to his gaming companions, grinning. "That, mates, was a mighty "sailing" man! A "skipper", brave and sure !!"

With that, he chuckled at his own joke, excused himself from the game, and moved toward the bar ...

Sibelius descended from his rooms upstairs. On his way down he saw Reralae's fleeting form disappear behind the door of one of the many campaigns she frequented. He shook his head and continued to the top of the stairs down to the main floor. There he was confronted with a being, seemingly an incarnation of the stereotypical ideal of perfection. Sibelius watched the man retreat to the next flight of stairs up. His acute hearing followed the sounds of footsteps upstairs while he himself set his sandaled feet down step by step.

Sibelius Eos Owm is, at first appearances, a man who could seem at home anywhere, while still looking foreign. He is just short of six foot tall with light skin, green eyes, and short black hair that comes together in a tight, thin ponytail that runs down to his calves. His garb is a storm grey long-sleeved shirt with grey leggings that draws your mind to the humble attire of a monk, but that is where the similarity to the asthetic life ends. He has added his own flair to the clothes with an emerald sash around his waist and down his shirt front. Upon his feet are simple sandals and his head is adorned with a wide bamboo shade, his weapon in a short, curved scabbard at his right (not like a scimitar, by the way)

He pauses midway on the flight of stairs as the thunderous sounds of violence ring from the upper levels. He takes another step slowly, then grabs the top of his shade and ducks quickly. Some sixth sense must have alerted him, for the moment he moved, the man who passed him previously sailed out over his head, to bounce off the table at the foot of the stairs. Grugg roared his warning from the upper levels where the mystery of the cake lay solved but unsaved while Sibelius knelt over the man, pouring a bit of water from an oddly ornate waterskin that hung at his left. One can only hope that Grugg's fist had a positive influence on this man's common sense, he sighed to himself.

After tending to reviving the foppish hero, Sibelius passed Almerin, who lingered at the foot of the stairs, on his way to the table that Reralae would be most likely to return to. He took himself a seat and spoke into his hand, "Tea, please," and allowed the wind to carry his voice to the ears of the waitress. "How are we doing tis evening?" he asked, turning to the people he found himself seated with. He was no stranger to them, but neither was he quite familiar.

Merideth watched as the hero walked in, unimpressed. She had seen his type before, and she eyed him slowly while she reclined in her seat. When he went upstairs she looked over at Lysk with a look that surely another woman could read and started laughing.
When he came down the stairs in a tumble she laughed even more and grinned.
"That's our Grugg... good boy Grugg."
Laughing she stood up and wiped at her pants with her hands.
"Bar wench... stop fretting over lover boy and get the cook to make Al a new cake will you?"
The maid gave her a nasty look and then hurried off to the kitchen.
Merideth then looked back at the unconcious man on the floor, someone had to do something about that. With a sigh she walked over to him and grabbed his hands, dragging his body over to one of the walls. Once there she propped him up to a sitting position and folded his hands in his lap, his battered head fell over to one side.
She returned to her table, dug around in her coat and pulled out a bit of paper and a wax pencil, and bent over writting on the paper. Looking at it and then nodding with approval she took the paper over to the fallen man, and propped it in his hands so everyone could read it. In large print it read:
Don't Mess with Grugg
"Alright, my job is done here. I have other things to attend to I suppose... See you around Lysk dear!" She smiled and waved and then went into one of the Star Wars doors, the sound of blasters echoing slightly before she closed the door behind her.

I sit in the corner of the room, unnoticed by anyone there, taking in the sights an sounds of The Red Dragon Inn. There are quite a few regulars that frequent this establishment. Again, I don't feel any sort of animosity. The women all appear, at first glance, to be beautiful. It remains to be seen how their attitudes and personalities will sway that initial observation. The one they call Meri looks to be under the weather today. The woman called Reralae looks exotic in her purple/blue kimono. Besides the swords and the staff, which I'd be willing to bet was magical, I notice Reralae carries books, ink and quill. Is she too a scribe like myself? The soothing sounds of Dragon Mistresses harp is the perfect backdrop for this setting. Her voice is angelic. There is something about the newest female that comes in. Lyskhala. Something sensual. Maybe it is the cleavage showing. Maybe something else. I make a mental note (not necessarily of the cleavage) and move on.
The men are equally as good-looking, for the most part, in their own special way. This one called Almerin-is he an actual King of toads?--seems quite upset about this missing birthday cake of Alacrity. Alacrity must be someone of importance in this circle of friends. I notice the man who calls himself Draco leaves his belongings at the empty table by the door as if he trusts the fellow occupants, but yet he walks and look around as if he is new to the place. He has been at the tile game for sometime, apparently enjoying himself. I make note of the scruffy man who enters, clattering as he walks. He doesn't speak to anyone but seems to notice everything at once. There is the foreign looking gentleman, with the long ponytail, Sibelius, who I noticed sidestepped just in time as the cake thief flew overhead. He then tended to him quickly while Meri made a sign. I recognize Grugg. I had met him on the road coming to The Red Dragon Inn. He didn't seem to notice me but that's fine. My job here is to observe. I smile at the punishment the cake thief receives and the sign Meri placed in his hands -- "Don't mess with Grugg."
I decide to put away my writings of The Red Dragon Inn for the moment and work on the story I have been working on for years. I reach into my pouch--wait! It's empty! How can that be? I search all around the table. Nothing! Oh no! I can't have lost all that research! I suddenly remember I had kept telling myself to make a hard copy--a backup copy-- of my story before something happened to it. I also remember putting it off. Years of writing and rewriting! Lost because I didn't make a copy! I curse aloud, gathere my gear and quickly exit the Inn!

This was a man to be reckoned with…a vision of perfection beyond compare.
His voice boomed … "I hear tell of a missing cake, but have no fear, for I have arrived to rectify this situation."
Lyskhala was breathless. She knew of Grugg’s reputation but had never actually been in his prescence. It was intoxicating.
Meri was not impressed in the least and seemed to be amused by his display of bravado.
Again, he spoke, "Before I embark on this endevour however, I shall need refreshment.", he said, his voice warming the room with every word.
She watched as he swaggered confidently to the bar, winking and pointing at all the ladies as he went. All eyes were on him as he cast a smoldering glance at the mesmerized barmaid who giggled as he picked her up and whispered something into her ear. Reluctantly, she forced herself to fetch him an order of mead which he downed in a single swig. Swiftly, he pulled a dainty napkin from his pocket and wiped the corner of his mouth. Giving a quick glance to their table, Grugg announced his intentions.
"Not a moment more of fretting dear ladies, if I do nothing else, I shall recover dear Alacrity's birthday cake and there shall be celebration once more!"

At that, he leapt up the stairs, disappearing from view.
Meri looked at Lyskhala with an amused, knowing expression as if to say, “wait for it”

It wasn’t long before a loud thump was heard. Followed by an even larger Thump! And finally...the largest THUMP, immediately followed by a flurry of activity as a large mass came sailing down the stairs at high speed, almost taking out Sibelius.
Lyskhala gasped as the huge mass of perfection lay still at the bottom of the stairs. The barmaid rushed to his side where she found Sibelius already attending to the wayward hero by pouring water on him as he made his way to the table where the ladies were seated. Meri couldn’t control her laughter and Lysk found it hard not to giggle at her irreverence of his predicament. Reluctantly Meri got up and pulled the mass of flawlessness to the wall and propped him up with a sign that read “don’t mess with Grugg”
‘My job here is done” she said as she sauntered up the stairs to the Star Wars room. “see you around Lysk dear” she said, opening the door to the sound of blasters.
Lyskhala waved goodbye and settled back into her chair with her tankard of mead.

The door to the inn opens slowly, revealing a slender feminine figure wrapped tightly in diaphanous white gossamer. She enters the inn slowly, moving with an otherworldly grace. Holding a pale ringed hand to her hood she makes her way to a table in a shadowed corner and takes a seat. Slowly she pulls back her hood and tosses hear head, a mane of liquid silver spills wildly about her. Her face is impassive, an ageless face untouched by time, beautiful in its serenity. Pointed ears poke through the wavy silver hair framing the finely chiseled features of an elf. Her almond shaped eyes slant upward, their deep violet color contrasting with her smooth bluish white skin.
Breathing deeply she scans the inn, taking in her surroundings, impassive until her violet eyes fall on the bruised unconscious gentleman. Violet eyes flickering with luminosity she smirks, he was probably some idiot would be hero who stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Heroes had an irritating habit of doing so, particularly chivalric men.
She smiled as the barmaid approached. Speaking in a soft melodious voice she ordered, "A pot of twig tea, please."
Watching the barmaid turn and head to the kitchen she sat back, running a delicate hand through her silver hair, the impassivity returning to her face save for the subtle luminous flicker of her violet eyes.

Sibelius drew up a roll of parchment and a quill, laying both out on the table where now only he and Lysk sat. It already contained a fair amount of writing, most prominently a large note down the side reading 'AoD- Finish and post already!!!' He proceeded to scribble down a few more paragraphs, glancing up once when this mysterious new woman entered, hearing her order for twig tea. When he finished the post, he got up and slid out of his seat. Nimbly he moved through the plethora of chairs and bodies in a dance-like state, intercepting the waitress who took the new woman's order. He gave the waitress a message for her and redirected the pot of tea to the table he and Lysk sat at. Having hijacked the evening, he quickly went on to submit his post through a door labelled 'Auguries of Destruction'.

He would only be gone for a moment, not even long enough for his own beverage to cool. The message for Nimu as related by the waitress is thus: No newcommer to the Red Dragon Inn drinks alone, if the residents have any say in it.

Almerin was very busy gaping at the others in the common room with horror filled eyes, when the obvious hero came in and assured everybody that things would be settled in a heartbeat.
The King of Toads (for such is what he was) followed the man with his gaze, hoping for a quick solution to the case of the missing cake.

The man's rapid return and Grugg's exclamation of desire to be left alone short-circuited his brain for a second. Then he swirled his cape from his shoulders and stomped up the stairs. A door slammed and his muffled voice could be heard from the higher quarters:

"Grugg! Look what you did! You almost killed one of the newbies! Now go bake Alacrity a new cake... ok? And let go of my finger."

"Grugg, let go of my finger."

"Dude! Stop biting my finger! I'll poke you with my scepter..."

Then things went quiet, and Almerin's online status turned into an empty space.

Sibelius smiled as he laid his parchment on the table he now occupied with Lyskhala. She welcomed him with an analogous gesture and salute of her mug.

Things had just settled down when a slender Elfin ghost entered the Inn. Sibelius looked up once from his writing to glance at the luminous figure who had captured everyone’s attention. She was like no-one Lyskhala had seen before. A specter of grace and beauty dressed in sheer layers of white. All eyes followed her as she slowly made her way to an empty table in a shadowed corner. The newcomer smiled a greeting at the barmaid and placed her order for twig tea in a disarmingly charismatic voice. As she waited,her Violet eyes surveyed the room and finally came to rest on what should have been Alacrity’s Birthday Cake hero lying rumpled against the wall where Meri had positioned him. A slight smirk crossed her lips and Lysk knew she must have been amused.

After a few minutes of frantic scrawling, Sibelius slid from his seat and intercepted the barmaid with a whispered message which Lysk came to discover was for the twig tea to be brought to their table with an invite to the mysterious stranger to join them.

Nimu watches as the barmaid is stopped by a dark haired man. After whispering to her, he disappears into the crowds. Rather than continuing on to the kitchen the barmaid turns around and heads back in the direction of the elfwoman. Nimu cocks her head to the side, observing the approaching woman curiously.
"No newcommer to the Red Dragon Inn drinks alone, if the residents have any say in it. " the barmaid says as she arrives at Nimu's table. "I will bring your tea there," she says pointing to a table where a copper haired woman sat, the very table the ascetic man had just left. With that the barmaid spun around and hurried off to the kitchen, not waiting for any response from Nimu.
Standing the slender woman smoothed her gossamer skirts and began to make her way across the room to the other woman's table. Gliding slowly to the table she studies the other woman staring back at her with emerald eyes glittering with curiosity. Her own violet eyes glitter in return as she reaches the appointed table.
Pulling a chair out she says in soft silvery tones "I am told I may not drink alone." Sitting across from the copper haired woman she smiles, "I am called Nimu." The barmaid appears quickly with a black iron teapot and matching cup. Nimu pours the steaming pale brown liquid into the small black vessel. Lifting the filled cup to her lips she breathes deeply the subtle earthy fragrance, her luminous violet eyes staring through the rising steam.

A door marked 'Posting Games' opens and Meri waltzes out. Apparently she has conquered the cold she was dueling with. From behind her a few things slip out of the hallway and into the main room of the inn, a handful of sea monkeys, a penguin, a spray of kibble, and some moldy pizza.
Meri kicks the door closed behind her and looks over at the bar maid, "That place needs some cleaning... " she says as she cocks a thumb over her shoulder toward the door.
Then she strides into the room, propping her thumbs under the lapels of her jacket, on the left one is a shiny new silver star with '500 Club' engraved on it, it almost looks like a Marshal's star, except for the engraving.
"Well hello again gorgeous," making her way toward Lysk's table, "been camped out here the whole time huh? Did I miss anything? I see Mr. Charisma is where I left him... "
She pauses noticing Nima sitting with Lysk, "Oh... Well hello. I'm Merideth, or just Meri is fine. New around here? Well we are glad to have you. Everyone will tell you not to feed Grugg, but I'll tell you a secret, I'd look out for Lysk more than Grugg... " She grins at Nima warmly and then winks over at Lysk.
"That said... I have got some work to do! If ye don't mind I'll just sit down and join you." She grabs a chair pulls it out and plops down onto it crosslegged and digs around in the pockets of her coat. She pulls out a ledger bound in leather with the image of a leafless tree burned into the front of it, and a pencil. Flipping the ledger open to a page not already full of doodles or her unique print she bends over it and starts to write.

The door to the inn opens and closes but seemingly no one enters or exits for that matter... The candles lit in the far corner of the room all suddenly go out. A silhouette of a large figure forms in the ensuing shadows from the extinguished candles No words are spoken by the figure as he just merely sits there unknowing of the theft made by the grugg. He patiently awaited another year of his life to start...

Dragon Mistress takes a break and heads over to join Meri, having played with in in the future, in the Final Frontier.

"Glad you're feeling better Meri."

"Hello," she says looking to Lyska and Nimu, My name Dragon Mistress, itinerant Bard, dying Paladin, and a pain-in-the butt Romulan Centurion to Bromern Sal's Star Fleet Captian."