He was damn good.

As Sylla scanned the room, acknowledging the barkeeps offering with only a curt nod, she had to admit to herself that Nyx was utterly belivablle. Honestly, she was glad to be in this position, because the alternative was ghastly. She despised the Empires treatment of her kind, and she almost despised how she was treating Nyx.

Almost.

yet she did keep herself in check - he was, after all, the Assassination Prince and could easily kill her where she stood and disappear into the night without a trace before anyone had a chance to scream.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a careless wench whose tray dropped suddenly, sending empty glasses crashing to the floor. They shattered on impact, fragmenting into thousands of tiny shards, each one cathing light, and Sylla turned her head a moment.

when she looked back at the servant, who stood motionless mortified, Sylla brushed and specks from her clothing and stood tall.

"You incompetent, dimwitted whelp! You should be sacked, you lazy cow. Go clean this up at once, before someone suts themselves on your stupidity," Sylla hissed, her venomous tongue cooling now.

As the servant hastily retreated, Sylla moved around the shattered glass to the stairs, her drink in hand.

"Come, slave," she bid Nyx, "I've grown bored already with this place. I've wasted enough time among the common folk. Let us present you to our friend and be done with this."

Sylla smiled beguilingly at each of the guards at the stairwell before ascending, her fingertips resting upon the smooth, worn wood of the rail and sliding gently up as she walked, Nyx trailing behind. A careful glance around the room revealed that simpleton witch, the pretender of the Empire, and she nearly smirked. The accident with the glass was no more accident for that little gnat of halfblood's presence than it would have been otherwise. Pity there were too many to bear witness or Sylla would have vaulted over the rail and cut off Cay's fingers and tongue.

But another coming through the door, little witnessed by others, cooled her blood. Mallys would take care of the wretch for her. After all, there was no need for four when three would do just as well. She only regretted that she could not be two places at once, but it was well enough, she suppsed. With Mallys below, with it without Cay, Sylla had little concern for the guards. Her dear sister could handle them well enough.

But her onyl problem now was that they had no idea where Gracchus was staying, and no plan short of opening each door, and that would not do well for any of them.

Inspiration struck. If Gracchus were as well connected as he supposedly was, considering that he was wanted emphatically dead, ther would be an increased presence on his floor. And it stood to reason that, were she to casually sweep each floor, she could determine his floor quite easily.

Sylla smiled and gained the top of the stairs.

Misfortune smiles upon all who seek rash action. Mallys was more careful, more methodical. THere was little impulse she could not control and so far, she was merely curious about Cay. Following back several paces farther than normal, she slipped into the Goblin quietly, and watched Cay lower and debase herself by causing the servant to dtop her tray.

it was unwise and lacked the maturity she had assumed the witchling possessed.

Well, it was not to be helped. She had been wrong about people before. No doubt there would be a time when she was wrong again. It was, after all, the nature of men, be tey humal, halfbreed, or other. Taking a small place beside cay, she deigned to speak again, but said only a single word. In that word there was no judgement, no harshness or beratement. She spoke to Cay as if she would have to anyone else, were Mallys of more vocal tendencies. No, it would not do to chastise her when no doubt the woman knew her action had been childish.

No, Mallys spoke but one word and sat back ina companionable silence, not needing simplistic and potentially mindnumbing conversation with people she would rather skin alive or light on fire. Rather, she was cool, calm, and collected, and needed only speak that single word.

"Unwise."

She needn't say more, in that word there was enough to convery her thoughts and to express to Cay an observation instead of judgement. After all, what care did Mallys have how Cay reacted to any of them. She was not responsible for how Cay acted, only how she herself acted.

Sylla was already up the stairs, and after a careful visual sweep, Mallys saw only the two guards as cridible threats, lest anything fall apart. She was positive that she herself, with Cay, could handle any trouble that may arise.

But where was Sylla going?

((ooc: using Move Silently to approach Cay, and Spot when scanning the room for "credible threats"))

Sylla’s beauty, even in human form, proved more than beneficial to Nyx’s hastily assumed guise as a slave. As they had approached and, also, after they had entered the Grinning Goblin every set of eyes and any attentions that had been turned their way had focused firmly on the glamoured bardess, dismissing the tittering elf for nothing more than what he pretended to be. That sort of obliviousness, of course, left Nyx free to survey and study the throng of patrons, the layout of the tavern, and the location and disposition of any possible threats or complications that might arise, not to mention listen closely to the drunken tavern chatter that often provided much more information to one who actively listened for it as opposed to the majority of the staff and customers who, in all likelihood, heard the conversations as little more than background noise.

It seemed to Nyx, though, that this night at the Goblin was much like any other night at any other tavern. The patronage was standard fare – no overwhelming preponderance of Imperial soldiery or any other warrior-types, for that matter, who appeared to be on guard for strange goings on… no obvious chatter as to why the Sea Snakes might be out in force and so doggedly keen on minding their assigned posts – only the typical assortment of humans and half-citizens and their mundane barroom banter that might be encountered and expected in any of the countless similar establishments that peppered Port Drasnia. As long as they didn’t call undue notice to themselves or go out of their way to offend an angry drunk while they were here, it appeared that, on this floor of the Inn, anyway, that their only obstacles would be the two strong-arm types flanking the stairs that lead to the upper levels. Simple bouncers, by the looks of them, Nyx noted, watching as more than one patron filed past the pair of thugs on their way up or down the staircase, no concerns there, just yet. As long as we are careful not to…
((OOC: Double checking the spot and listen checks, here, just in case something ahs changed. ))

CRASH!
A tray full of drinks suddenly (and quite inexplicably from what Nyx saw) toppled from the hands of the serving wench who had been ferrying it across the room and crashed to the floor directly in front of him, splashing him with alcohol and bits of shattered earthenware and glass. Keeping to his role, Nyx reacted with a surprised yelp and nervous recoiling to Sylla’s feet. His expression was, by design, uncertain and his eyes were wide as they flitted about the place as if the elvin body-slave was expecting another mug or somesuch to be tossed at him by a taunting human… in reality, he was searching for Cay, for it had to be her doing that had knocked the load from the waitress’ grip… The witch’s way of punishing us for taunting her, he presumed as his yellow eyes caught sight of the half-breed glaring at him from near the Goblin’s front door. Would you have followed us in, otherwise, my angry cousin? Or would your self-loathing have kept you skulking in the shadows outside? You may thank me rather than threaten me, later, witch…
As Sylla berated the serving wench for her clumsiness, Nyx grinned wickedly, his eyes still on Cay as he stuck to his guise and began to greedily lick the splashes of spirits from his hands, arms, and lips, not bothering to brush away the shards of glass that may have still clung there. The glass, of course, slit tiny gashes in his tongue as he continued his ruse but he secretly reveled in the taste of blood-mingled alcohol that filled his mouth as the act… an omen from Prien… a prelude to the blood that was yet to be spilled…

"Come, slave," Sylla’s voice snatched at his attentions, "I've grown bored already with this place. I've wasted enough time among the common folk. Let us present you to our friend and be done with this."

He flinched at the sound of her voice, of course, and finally looked away from Cay even as he noticed the Silent Sister approaching the witch… Good. All together, then, and so no need for explanations to Dmitrova as to why we didn’t attempt this together.… “Yes, mistress,” he squeaked, splashing his hands in the puddle of alcohol before him once more and licking away the fresh dampness as he scurried behind Sylla towards the stairs… he didn’t bother stepping around the glass.

“Big strong mens,” Nyx giggled, blood coloring his lips, as he passed between the bouncers and followed Sylla up the steps, “Scary, scary… Good drinks here, though, Mistress…”

Before they got out of sight of Mallys and Cay, Nyx glanced back, flicked a wink, and grinned madly at the other half of the team. Then, warbling some sort of nonsensical ramblings, scampered up to the second floor behind Spite.

((OOC: Okay, again, keeping the spot and listen checks going for our cooky little body-slave… keeping a keen eye out for weapons on the bouncers and anything of interest on any of the floors as they proceed upwards – hiding spots, hidden doors, alternative means of moving between floors, anything that might be of note – and also keeping those elvin ears sharp on conversations and other curious noises that might be encountered in passing. If you need more specifics, just let me know.))

CRASH!
She grinned widely when the tray crashed to the ground at Sylla and Nyx's feet. It eased the boiling sea inside her to see it, it let them know how she felt about the taunting they had sent her way, while at the same time not injuring them or hopefully pissing them off so badly they turned her out of the group. Sitting up a little straighter she winked slowly to Nyx.

It was disgusting the way he so easily fell into the roll of the animalistic slave boy, to the point that he was now licking the liquor with glass shards in it up with his tongue. She snarled slightly at him.

Then jumped slightly as a voice came from directly next to her. She had been so focused on Nyx that she had not noticed anyone approaching.

"Unwise."
Turning on the voice with startled rage filling her eyes she found Mally's sitting next to her. The startledness left her eyes and she filled that void with malice for Malice.

"Bite me!" She spat at her and then turned back to look at Sylla and Nyx mounting the stairs. And with a slight turning up of the corner of her mouth muttered to Mally's though her eyes stayed fixed on the other two.

"Unwise huh? How about those two? I'd consider it unwise that the only person who has any clue as to what they will face, and where to look for him, is sitting down here... They are going blind, when they don't have to." She ran her tongue over her teeth and cocked her head turning it back to Mallys, "You wanna discuss wisdom now sweetheart?"

Those dark venomous eyes glared into Malice's for a few seconds, then she cut the contact and slouched back into her chair, pulled her hat down over her eyes and listened. Waiting for some kind of indication that her party had fallen into trouble.

((OOC: Listen checks obviously. Also... sorry I just couldn't resist the Malice pun ))