Jollity into Folly

[Tristan Caine]

(( Anyone wishing to have their character notice the markings are free to post ))

Borgate was doing his usual day to day jobs, wiping a beer mug clean, but this time, he was eyeing that familiar man curiously. That man had been so cheerful and loud in the tavern, he was bringing a certain life along with him, but now, something surely had gotten to him.

That man, Tristan Caine, was sitting on a wooden chair in front of one of those round tables, rather then his usual preferred place on the stools. For the first time on Gobaith, he held a dagger, gripped firmly within his grasp. Borgate was quite displeased, but didn't bother say anything to the mysteriously behaving man.

Tristan was consumed in his raging thoughts, and he hated himself that those thoughts passed through his mind.

"What the hellsbriar am I doing?"

"Damn arrogance...that long one will think twice next time..."

All throughout these thoughtful moments, at times grumbling under his breath, Tristan was semi-consciously carving on the table with his dagger. He suddenly froze upon fully realizing the scratched words, but wasn't at all scared by his own actions. He examined his careless work and stood up, rushing out of the door of the tavern and avoiding Borgate's suspicious look.

Anyone in the tavern might notice the following unclear and careless marks left on one of the round wooden tables. It's noticeable that some marks scratches and ruined other marks, making some words incomplete or illegible:

[Ayla]

It was not long after the man had left the tavern that the familiar woman clad in a gypsy's clothes steps barefooted into the building. It was empty, aside from Borgate in his usual fashion and a woman tucked away along the wall. The dwarf meets Kaelyn with his usual bright "Arrr!" before it dies away without much left. Her face was not its usual cheerfulness. Instead, it was thoughtful of all things. Perhaps even confused.

It did not take long for the woman's light steps to come to an abrupt halt. Something had caught her eye and the very first reaction was a stunned look to her face. Her eyes had landed upon the rough engravings. And her heart seemed to skip a beat.

"You've got an admirer.."

The words were not her own, but instead those of the familiar woman that watched quietly from her seat. The words went unnoticed to Kaelyn as she eased forward. A trembling hand reaches out to the rough carvings, her palm running along the words with no attention given to the splinters finding her hand. A deep inhale, eyes falling closed. Then, the hand upon the carvings moves, shifting to the small of her back and tugging out a thin, small, but nonetheless sharp dagger. Without a word, the woman drags the blade along the words in one swift movement, interrupting the words even more.

A thud follows. The blade of the dagger digs deep into the wood of the table, leaving the hilt to protrude from the surface in a manner that shows the blade will not be removed any time soon. Without a word, the woman looks up to Borgate, who only mumbles something beneath his thick beard. The piercing glare is turned upon the woman then, as if accusing her for crimes not committed. Then on, Kaelyn moves. Out of the door she travels with little else to be said.

[Daelyn]

Aeridor walked quickly into the now empty tavern, and didn't even allow himself the time to greet the owner before demanding something strong. Borgate shaked his head in confusion, annoyed by all these people who suddenly rushed into his tavern as if they owned the place. He had noticed the ruined table a little earlier, and was very well aware that one of the names carved into it belonged to the elf in front of him. In spite of his suspiciounce, he agreed to serve the elf, slamming a glass of whiskey down on the counter before him. Aeridor grabbed it without another word, clearly upset about something, and flipped the dwarf a silvercoin before he turned to find himself a table. He landed on the one opposite of the table with his name, and found a book in his pocket. It was not til he reached for the large candle on the opposite table that he seemed to notice the carvings, as they had partly been concealed by the candle. Some of Aeridor's frustration left his face as he read the words, a sly grin appearing on his lips. Most of the words were now unreadable, but he was able to recognise his own and Kaelyn's name, as well as the repeated word "hatred". The elf turned slowly back to his own table, and made sure Borgate was busy down in the wine cellar before he grabbed the earlier ordered spirit. For a moment he was feezed in this position as he considered what he was about to do. He had often found himself acting on an impulse, and more often than not it had goten him in trouble. His judgement was clouded tonight though, due to the happenings earlier that evening. Shrugging the remaining doubt off, Aeridor poored the liquid onto the table, and carefuly torched it with the candle. He allowed himself a few seckonds to enjoy his work before he quickly headed for the exit and left the tavern.