Ruingate: The Skull and Candle
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The main room of the Skull and Candle is the tavern. A high bar runs the length of the room, ending just short of a staircase leading to the private guestrooms upstairs. The one large common guestroom is off the other side of the tavern, the large door shiny at the middle from many paws wearing against the wood. The inn's namesake sits above the bar, one of the Lord Regent's keepsakes. An otter skull stares down hollowly from a
shelf high on the wall, decorated in gold leaf. From the top of this skull protrudes a blood-red candle, always lit, and replenished several times each day by the dutiful Tavernkeeper.

[IC] Slaughterthane of Ruingate (Bane)
[IC] Presently disguised as a weasel...cloaked, with a mask made of bark, a fake tail, and his fur dyed a darker color... (Asher)

Bane is seated at the bar leaning over his whiskey, paws cupped around the empty glass. He looks like a wreck really. Been up all night. His fur is ruffled and badly in need of grooming. He looks to the bartender and waves a paw to signal, 'keep them coming.'

Asher makes his way down the stairs from the guest rooms upstairs, this most likely being his last day here. The 'weasel' begins to make his way towards one of the tables near the door, and he sees Bane sitting there at the bar, looking as if he'd been run over by about fifty horsecarts. He chuckles a bit to himself, then decides to walk over in that direction instead. "Ey, mate..." he replies, "Ya don't look too good, there...everythin' alright?"

Bane looks over at the 'weasel' and smirks. "I am fine. Had to patrol the streets all last night. Been rough but I've seen worse," he chuckles as the bartender sets down his new whiskey which Bane promptly sips.

Ironfist enters from the street, grinning a little despite still looking fatigued. He sees Bane and limps over. "You're lookin' pretty bad, friend..." Starts the ferret, when he notices the hated weasel. His paws are ready to unsheathe the cane-sword, "You've got t' be mighty brave or mighty stupid t' be 'ere again, weasel." grates the ferret. "Remember what I'd said would 'appen t' ya?"

Asher ahs and nods his head, "Well t'be honest with ya, I doan think drinkin' alla that whiskey's really gonna 'elp ya feel better, mate..." he chuckles. "That is, unless yer tryin' t'knock yerself out." He glances up as he hears Ironfist entering the room, and he grins. "Oh, it's you again. How ya doin', pal? Ya look good..." he snickers. "'Ow's the paw feelin' t'day?" he jibes...

"Mighty stupid it is, then." sneers the bladesmith at the 'weasel'. He glances to Bane, with a mix of surprise and annoyance. "Bane, this fiend has insulted me and removing one of 'is paws won't take hardly a minute. I'm certain no beast would might me reducing him to a babe crying fer 'is mama."

Bane looks at Ironfist and tilts his head to the side tiredly as he sighs. "So the sin of a poor choice word is to be paid for by cutting off a paw?" He crosses his arms and shakes his head, whiskey glass still in his left paw.

You ask, "Would you prefer cutting out his tongue, then?"

Asher smirks at Ironfist, then glances at Bane as well. "'igh alert ya say, mate? 'ow come, I wonder?" He turns his eyes back to Ironfist, chuckling softly. "Eh, from th'sound of things right now, yer th'one's that's 'cryin' at the moment, though not to your momma." He grins. "Baaane, th'weasel's makin' fun o'me! Can I pleeease cut off 'is paw?" He wonders if he's crossing the line, though it's too much fun at the moment seeing Ironfist's reactions...

Bane squints his eyes, being that the bickering it sobering him up to feel his hangover. A paw comes up to his forehead, thumb and finger rubbing each temple to stave off the headache. "There was a kidnapping last night," he says. "We found the victim, just not the kidnapper."

Asher tilts his head, "A kiddnappin'? Who got taken?"

Bane looks up from his temple massage and looks to Asher. "A vixen." Bane snorts. "But this kidnapper is..just the type to do something to anyone.

Ironfist ignores the weasel for once except for a dark glare, and looks to Bane. "Any leads?"

Asher simply grins at Ironfist as he doesn't reply, and he looks back to Bane, listening...

Ironfist takes the opportunity to swing his cane at the back of the otter's head.

Bane starts to answer but stops once he sees the cane fly at the 'weasel's head.

Asher halfway expects that Ironfist would do something when he turned his head, so as he hears something whistling through the air, he attempts to duck out of the way, though he is clipped slightly, and it hurts. "Yeowch! Ey, watch where you're swingin' that thing!" he growls, rubbing at the side of his head, a scowl upon his muzzle. "I oughta wring yer neck, but I ain't gonna cause I'm better'n that, mate..."

You say, "T' much of a coward, I wager. They sure do teach you woodlanders t' be polite, don't they?" scoffs the sneering ferret. "It's just as well, if ya'd tried I'd be forced t' slay ya outta self-defense."

Asher almost goes dead pale for a few moments after he hears Ironfist call him a 'Woodlander'. Does he know...? He blinks, thinking this over for a few moments...if he knew, then why wouldn't the ferret be having him arrested right now? Most likely it is a vermin insult. His expression turning to one of offense and anger, the 'weasel' growls, "Doncha ever call me a bloody Woodie ever again if ya know wot's good fer ya, y'hear me, Limpy? Be glad I'm sparin' ya jus' cause I don't like wastin' my time on beasts like you. By the way, just fer reference...I ain't gonna be inside th'gates ferever, mate. If'n ya really wanna fight me, ye'll find me out there when th'time comes..."

Bane raises a brow at Asher's reaction and hesitation. "Any normal vermin would have swung without thinking," he murmurs to himself then sips his whiskey and shrugs.

Ironfist spits at Asher's feet. "Coward." grunts the ferret, and he shakes his head and sits by Bane. He signals for an ale. "Begone, woody. Git from my sight."

Asher smirks, as he begins to back away, though he keeps his eyes on Ironfist. "All I gotta say is, y'better not travel alone, mate. I may not look like much, but s'like they say, looks c'n be deceivin'. I've smashed fleas that're bigger n'you." He doesn't turn his back this time, as he moves in the opposite direction, keeping an eye on the ferret so he doesn't throw anything. "I bet I know 'ow y'hurt yer footpaw, too..." he taunts..."Y'know, those swords -are- pretty 'eavy, mate, I c'n see ya not bein' able t'handle em properly. Ya prolly were tryin' t'show yer friends 'ow to swing a sword, an' ya jus' happened t'drop it, aye? Could 'appen t'anyone, y'know..." he snickers.

Ironfist shakes his head as he recieves his ale. Gulping some down, the smith looks to Bane. "Wet-behind th' ears upstarts these days got no guts. When I was his age, I'd've slain anyone who acted like that. Vermin ain't as strong as they used t' be. Now friend, what 'as you in the bottom o' a bottle?"

Bane chuckles and curls the edges of his mouth to a bizarre slightly drunk smile. "Lord Merdez might not approve of the beast I hired."

Asher gives Ironfist another long glare before he slips out into the Plaza. He had gotten just about all the information he needed, and he pats the map tucked safely away in his cloak. He most likely could be on his way out if he wished, though there were a couple things he decided he had to do first before he left.

You ask, "The, uh, dancer fox? Jessamyn was her name, right? As long as you aren't using his money, I imagine he won't mind." The ferret drinks some more ale and looks to Bane with foam on his face. "The worse posiblity would be that you'd have to let her go. He can't get rid of you, his Slaughterhane over something so minor..."

Bane looks over at Ironfist and squints an eye. "You must not know of the Lord's hiearchy. She's a vixen...dancing for beasts of lower class." Bane looks like something's wrong but he's too tired to care right now.

Bane looks over at the ferret as 'the weasel' steps out. "Something is strange about that beast. I see him alone in Ruingate, yet he has no business with anyone here. He merely.....watches," he looks to Ironfist as if asking for more information.

Ironfist shrugs, drinking more ale. "The young Prince seemed to have liked him. I imagine he is just looking for a job or trying to make a deal. At most he's trying to set up a place to rob. He's too much of a coward to do any real damage." He looks to Bane again. "If it is such a problem for you to hire her, let her go. If I understand, it isn't worth finding out how he feels. And that other cat might have told him already."

Bane snorts at the mention of that other 'cat'. "If you see her," he turns his golden eyes on the bladesmith, narrowing them to barely peer from under his brows. "Let me know." Then Bane turns around and puts a paw to his head again. "Bartender. Bring me a raw egg."

Ironfist finishes his ale and wipes the foam from his muzzle. "I hate to interupt your fun, friend, but drinkin' 'onestly only makes 'eadaches build up reinforcements for later. I spent several months living in a bar once and what little I can remember is having bad headaches. You need t' clean up, friend. Merdez' judgement can only be worse if you are unable to defend yourself."

Ebony enters from the road.
Ebony has arrived.

As the bartender sets the egg and glass before Bane, the wildcat turns to look at Ironfist, raising the egg to crack it on the edge of the glass. "I will be fine in a few minutes," he grins. "Thank you for your concerns, bladesmith, but I know what I am doing." Tump. The egg yolk and white slip into the glass. Bane gives it a passive look before lifting the glass and drinks it down, not shooting it.

Ebony steps into the tavern. It feels like all others, but this is a new place so her eyes move rapidly over everyone making sure of their intentions. She has her cloak on from travling in the cool north and it swishes with her steps and her tail. As she comes in she sees Bane and Ironfist and takes a seat at a table off to the side keeping her back to the wall.

Bane sets the glass down and curls his tongue out to lap at the fur around his mouth and his nose. He turns his head towards Ironfist and nods. "Yes. Reports have been given to me about it. It rose rapidly yesterday evening. I'm afraid there is no passing to the east or south at the moment until the waters receed." Bane's nose sniffs the air as he catches scent of a female wildcat. His eyes narrow as they scan the bar, then rest upon the lean feline. He keeps his eyes locked on her til her own scan to him, he then smirks and nods his head to her in greeting.

Ebony nods back to Bane not moving closer to him but rather holding her ground. As a barwench comes over she orders an Ale as a few coins clank down onto the table.

You ask, "Is that going to affect the shippment of iron?" The ferret raises an eyebrow. "Bane?"

Kevarr walks out of the common guest room.
Kevarr has arrived.

Bane shakes his head. "No, Send is from the north so we should still get our shipment on time." He taps a claw on the bartop, pensive still on the outcome of the dancer and Merdez.

Kevarr steps out of the common guest room, only just pulling her cloak back around herself to mask any telltale curves that might not be hidden by her clothing.

Trace walks out of the common guest room.
Trace has arrived.

Bane looks to the cloaked beast as it exits the guestroom.

Ironfist nods thoughtfully. "Good...I want t' get those finished as soon as I can. I've finished th' swords and most of the halberd heads, but I need that iron to make the shields. I'll assemble the polearms this eve. Can you send some men to pick them up?"

Kevarr lowers herself into a seat at a side table, and rubs her already badly mussed headfur. Her frown deepens a little at the conversation, but she doesn't look toward Bane or Ironfist. Instead she seems to study the woodgrains in the table.

Ebony looks to the beast coming in, something is familiar, but whatever it is will have to wait to be discovered. Her Ale arrives and she takes a long swig before standing to her feet momentaraly and removing her bow and quiver and then letting her cloack slip from her shoulders and slide into her paws.

Bane's eyes do not leave the cloaked figure as he answers Ironfist. "Hmm. Alright. Tonight then. They shall bring you payment as well."

Trace steps into the bar, her cloak billowing out behind her as she steps into through the doors. "Brr.. it's a bit windy for /summer/," she states aloud, to no one in particular. The ratmaid's eyes shift around the room, looking for familiar faces and finally just moving toward the bar. "Hello, Baney, m'boy. What's happening in Slaughterthane land?"

Ironfist shrugs again, gestering for a new ale, tossing a few coins on the bar top. "Good, I owe the beasts who gathered the staves, an' they are getting antsy..." He looks wordlessly at the Trace and only shakes his head and returns to his new mug.

Kevarr continues to listen to this with perked ears as she idly runs a claw along a gouge in the table surface.

Bane snorts and sighs as Trace uses that 'Baney' name. At times, he'd like to smack her......at times. He looks up to Trace and says, "Hectic as per usual," the looks back to the cloaked figure, watching and waiting for it to give an order from the bar, or wait for a friend to join.

Ebony sitting again her cloak layed across her lap she finishes up the Ale and the Tankard comes down on the table with a soft but noticable thud. As she does so she watches Bane for any sign of noticing her.

"Of course.. A large brandy," This second part is offered to the bartender, by Trace, as she digs around in her pouch for a coin. Huh. "Busy in here today.." And.. without further adieu, Trace moves to plop down with her drink near the Slaughterthane. Probably to bother him.

Kevarr offers no orders to the bartender. She seems quite content to just sit where she is, with her ears quirked to listen and her general attitude rather brooding.

Bane's ear noticably flicks instantly to her direction as does his eyes at the sound of the tankard hitting the bartop. His body, however, and face are all turned towards the cloaked figure. As Trace plops down next to her, he leans back and looks at her like she interrupted something then smirks, looking back over towards Ebony then to Trace once more. "I think I have been working too hard, lately. I'm becoming suspicious of everything, Commander," he says in a low tone only heard by those at the bar.
Ironfist quaffs his ale. "Well, Bane, I really ought to go slave o'er my hot forge some more. I wish ye luck, friend..." The ferret drops a tip on the bartop and rises. The bladesmith cracks his neck with a groan and limps towards the door.

Dane skydives in. Or, he would have, if the bar lacked both a ceiling and another floor above it, and if there were actual planes in the Redwall universe. Theoretically, he could have asked a large bird... But who trusts those things? Also, he lacks a parachute. Oh, if only technology could keep up with Dane's advanced thinking! Either way, he enters the bar common, looking quite refreshed. In his paw, he holds the spearhead he's been working on, and a polishing cloth. He's just about to get it ready for hardening and glazing.

Bane looks to Ironfist as he turns to leave. "Find that apprentice and soon, bladesmith. For if you work yourself to death, who will forge my armor?" A crooked grin infecting his muzzle.

"I'm sure some other bladesmith would show up sooner or later...But without my awesome looks or great skill," calls the ferret over his shoulder as he goes out the door.

Kevarr finally lifts her head, in order to peer at the two newest entrants; Trace and Dane. Neither are familiar to her.

Dane approaches Bane's shoulder, a quizical look in his eye. "'Scuse me, buddy, but was that the local ironmonger? I've been lookin' to get some work done." He holds the spearhead carefully in one paw. It's quite sharp, and he would hate to slice his paw open.

Kathryn enters from the road.
Kathryn has arrived.

Bane turns and quickly flinches back away from the blade's tip once he sees it then looks up at the todd the back to the tip. "Yes, that was Ironfist, the bladesmith of Ruingate." He then shifts on his seat to face Dane. "If you hurry, you might catch him."

Dane nods. "Thanks a bunch, bud!" He says, and sprints off after the bladesmith. "Hey! 'Scuze me!" He calls out, chasing after the ferret.

Trace sits there, drinking her ale and spacing out slightly. Yeah, it's a boring, quiet day in Traceland.

Kathryn enters the tavern, wincing a little as the doors smash against the wall. She looks as if she's still getting ready for the day as she wanders over to the bar, flatening out her dress and combing through her headfur. She takes a seat at the bar, crosses her legs, and leans in a little, looking left and right for the barkeep. She spots him, "Ah, there you are. Ale please," she says with a small smile.

Bane turns back around, his eyes slowly slipping from the todd back towards the cloaked figure but scans over Ebony. He takes note and smirks as he stands and nods to Trace. The wildcat makes his way over to her table, folding his paws behind his back. "Good day to you, miss."

Kevarr watches Bane carefully for a moment, before glancing back to Trace.
Ebony nods in a quicet but distinct voise, "Hello." She motions with a paw for him to join her at her table.

Bane slips into a chair at Ebony's table, across from her. As he comes to a rest in his chair, he laces his fingers together and sets his elbows on the table top. "I take it you are new to Ruingate. I hope you like it here. Being that the Broadstream is flooded, there is hardly any coming and going from here," he half grins.

Ebony smiles, "I just got here. I was north of teh Stream by the time it started breaking out." Unsure she slowly extends a paw across the table, then in the same soft voise, "I'm Ebony, formerly of the Shadow Clan."

Bane takes the offered and slowly wraps his fingers around her paw and smirks as he shakes the paw gently. "A pleasure. I am Xerxes Bane Vasilis, Slaughterthane of Ruingate," he says proudly. "What brings you to Ruingate then, Miss Ebony?"

Kevarr stands, adjusts her cloak, and begins walking toward the door. She's still frowning, and Bane is given a searching glance, but she continues out without another word, unless she is stopped.

Ebony shrugs her shoulders, "I came north and fond this place. Seems like a good place to be." Her voise seems to tell that there is something that she is hiding or rather not telling.

Bane flickers an ear as the cloaked figure stands. He turns and looks at it as it nears the door. He's hesitant to hop up or the leave the table.

Kevarr therefore steps out, before Bane can change his mind. Hurrah.

Bane stands from the table, and looks to Ebony. "Will you excuse me for one moment, Miss Ebony." He then jogs towards the door to follow the cloaked figure, grasping his halberd's strap on his shoulder.

Ebony watches the cloacked beast leave still unsure where she has seen it before, then she returns to Bane. She nods as he leaves.

Bane heads out into the street.
Bane walks out from the inn.
Bane has left.

Dane nods, and takes paw at the bellows, his lean frame pulling down on the large bellows, and with, a practiced ease, pushes the bellows, giving the fire a new blast of orange fire. "How hot ya need it?" He says, easing the bellows up again.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane has arrived.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr steps out of the Skull and Candle, looking troubled. She's still fiddling with the cloak around her shoulders, which hunch a little as soon as she deems herself out of view of the tavern's occupants.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> From the direction of the square, a shady, obviously not-intent-on-being-recognized beast. The overcoat this beast wears is heavy looking, but it keeps his body hidden. A large hat (similar to Nagias, but black) upon his head, tilted down to reveal only a broad snout from within the upturned flaps of the coat. The huge muddy boots on the beast's feet suggests river-travel, or rain. When the quickly-traveling beast nears Kevarr, a lanky paw reaches out from the pocket of the coat, ragged fur and claws extended, and snatches for her arm, rather roughly. The beast grunts a low, "With me", as it intends to drag her towards Qamar's house.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr was hardly expecting to be snagged...Atma's disguise is, apparently, better than hers right now. Or at least, she was too busy brooding to notice him. So when he grabs her arm, she gives a rather startled wrench in the opposite direction. "Let go!" Somehow, she remembers to pitch her voice lower, so that it comes out as a gruff sounding tenor.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane steps outside of the tavern and looks around for the beast.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> The beast in the overcoat turns to face Kevarr, giving her a horribly urgent glare. His cloudy eyes are narrowed within the slight shadow of the large hat. "Stop struggling, and make the process easier for the both of us, mm?" He murmurs. "You can make a scene inside. Come on."

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr's eyes suddenly narrow as the beast faces her. If anything else, those eyes are /quite/ recognizable. And so is the murmur. And...quite despite Atma's urgings to the contrary, her first reaction is to lift her right arm, wooden paw firmly secured, and punch the poor hob in the jaw. She's not aware that Bane has followed her--she thinks they're alone. "You!" Hiss.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane's attention is caught by the two beasts in the street. His eyes narrow as he starts over towards them boldly as his cloak flaps in the wind, announcing his presence.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> (Atma was expecting that one. And his skills with the close-quarter combat have been honed lately, due to his being in a place where, according to him, getting mugged isn't uncommon. But he's currently trying to restrain Kevarr, so he gets socked ANYWAY. He just incorporates an attempt to catch it with one paw into that. Failing miserably, of course, and if anything, her fist barrels through his fingers. "Grah!" He grunts as he stumbles backwards. At this moment, he hears and sees Bane approaching. Atma goes a little wide-eyed, and turns to run into Qamar's house.)

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr scowls. Her back is to Bane. And, as far as she's concerned at the moment, one good punch deserves another. So she's lifting her maimed arm /again/ when she finally hears the wildcat's approach, and looks a little dumbfounded at Atma's retreat.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane's eyes widen as he watches the cloaked beast strike the other. He runs now, full tilt at the cloaked beast for a tackle.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr is therefore tackled before she can turn around. And damn, but Bane is very /large/. "Agh!" Flattened.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane stuggles with the cloaked beast and reaches for its wrists to restrain it, and shifts to straddle over it, yet, keeping a good portion of his weight down on the beast's chest.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr panics as her wrists are reached for. No no no /no/, she doesn't want that. She wriggles like an eel, trying to get out from under the far, far larger beast. "Let me go!" This time she forgets to disguise her voice, though it is deep enough anyway that one might still mistake it for male.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma stops as he reaches the door, glancing over his shoulders. "Ugh.." He mutters. "Bloody terriffic." Atma moves BACK over to the wrestling beasts, and reaches up his right sleeve with his left arm. "...Off the beast, lawkeeper. They're coming with me." His voice is loud and regal. Ish. Regalish. Commanding, nonetheless.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane struggles yet with the beast. "Hold still, young man!" he yells. Seeing that he can't grasp the wrists, he moves to place his forearm to drag up the front of the beast's chest til it meets up under the chin in a restraining yet not painful manner. He looks up at Atma. "This beast struck you. I must restrain him."

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr makes a rather funny noise, sort of a 'glug' at this treatment. Restrained. And despite her absolute panic, she decides that it is probably better to stop wriggling just now. Her heart is pounding almost enough to be audible.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr makes a rather funny noise, sort of a 'glug' at this treatment. Restrained. And despite her absolute panic, she decides that it is probably better to stop wriggling just now. Her heart is pounding almost enough to be audible.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma gives a loud, annoyed sigh, and he draws his paw out of his sleave, and throws off his hat, revealing the very sweaty, ungroomed face of Atma. "This beast is following MY cause. Sh.. -HE- is a vital part of my hunt. Let HIM go, I will take care of him. If you don't do as I say, I'm sure Merdez will be quick to give you a proper reprimand for hindering the progress of my operation! Do you understand me? I have no patience for this!"

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane slowly turns his head at Atma, a deep feral growl resonates from his chest, loud enough for the vibrations to be sent through Kevarr's body. His pupils turn into thin narrow slits, showing his eyes to nearly be complete golden saucers. "I am doing my job. And from what I saw," he looks down to Kevarr with those same eyes. "He attacked you." He grins as he draws his lips back bearing those fangs to Kevarr. "Promise not to hit him, and I'll let you go."

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane slowly pulls his arm back for the beast to speak.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr is trying not to, but she's shaking quite a bit. "I promise," she gruffs. Hah. She doesn't intend to keep that promise, but right now, it's best to just say it.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma calms visibly. He still looks miffed, but he's not breathing so hard anymore. His upper lips are curled, and his mouth is slightly open. He's panting, and baring his fangs. His eyes are wide and his brows curled into an arch. With the damp, unkempt sweaty fur, one might say Atma looks far more ferocious than he could ever truly manage to be.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane slowly gets off of Kevarr, as he does, reaching for a wrist to help the beast up. He turns to look at Atma. "I think he was waiting for you inside the tavern."

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Yeah. That's right. She was. Kevarr scoots back from Bane, and ignores his offered paw by pushing herself up. Her right paw is secured beneath the cloak immediately, and despite herself, she's still shaking and flushing at the close call.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma looks at Bane. "I'll be sure to note your loyal duty to the regent. But I must be going." He throws the large hat back on his head, and pulls up the collar flaps of the overcoat, looking left and right cautiously. He then looks to Kevarr. "Follow me." He turns towards Qamar's house.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane looks to Kevarr then to Atma. "You have spoken with the Lord Regent?" He turns towards Atma and asks as he starts to leave. "May I ask your name then?"

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr hunches her shoulders, now only too eager to comply with Atma's request. She starts to follow him, pausing only as Bane addresses the hob.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma glances over his shoulder. "Anigma. I am here on a special mission, and the regent is assisting me. If you wish to be of service, see me later, and I'll tell you how you can help. I have business now..." He tilts his hat up, and bows his head down, turning to step back into Qamar's home.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma glances over his shoulder. "Anigma. I am here on a special mission, and the regent is assisting me. If you wish to be of service, see me later, and I'll tell you how you can help. I have business now..." He tilts his hat up, and bows his head down, turning to step back into Qamar's home.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Bane nods to him then looks to Kevarr. "And you, sir?"

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr hesitates. Err. What was the name she used last night? "...Luto," she responds in her deeper pitched voice. "Josiah Luto." She tries to scoot into the door before any more questions can be asked.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma opens the door, and allows Kevarr entry, dipping his head as she passes.

<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr fairly scurries inside.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma heads for the house of Seraph Qamar Durin.
<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Atma has left.

<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr heads for the house of Seraph Qamar Durin.
<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr turns in off the street.
<<Radio:Ruingate: Via Ariadne>> Kevarr has left.

-------Mean while, back at the forge…

Dane wanders into the forge from the main shop, having heard the sounds of work going on back here. "Excuse me?" He calls out, hoping to get some attention.

Ironfist is banging on a red hot piece of steel. Sweat drips from his forehead and he is flushed with heat. He looks over his shoulder and says between hammer strikes, "'Ow can I 'elp you, sir? It's got t' be quick!".

Dane nods, and gives a half bow. "Forgemaster Ironfist, I take it? I need to commission some arrowheads. Forged barbed pierce-tips, the sort for piercing chain-mail and the like." He looks quite comfortable in the heat, almost like he's used to being in a forge environment. "Need a paw at the bellows, sir?"

Ironfist looks at the fox again, more carefully. "I'll see what I can do, there is short supply of iron at the moment. If you don't mind, it'd help if you did so..." He bangs the metal a few more times and sticks it in the coals. The ferret proceeds to pull out another, closer to completion halberd blade and drops it on the anvil, spraying sparks.

Dane nods, and takes paw at the bellows, his lean frame pulling down on the large bellows, and with, a practiced ease, pushes the bellows, giving the fire a new blast of orange fire. "How hot ya need it?" He says, easing the bellows up again.

"Give it a couple more strokes," says the ferret. He finishes the halberd head and drops it into a barrel of water beside him with a loud sizzle and lots of steam. Ironfist rests the hammer on the anvil beliefly to wipe his brow. "That's good," he calls to Dane.

Dane lets the bellows up, and the noise of the forge drops, the coals now a smouldering red. "Quite the forgemaster, huh. Where did you apprentice?" He asks, amiably.

Ironfist rakes some coals over the halberd head before responding. "My father forged weapons for a band of sea rats in a ocean cave. He taught me the basics, but he was murdered before I learned most of the trade." The ferret shrugs. "I taught myself mostly. It's a good way t' make a livin', good money and relatively safe."

Dane nods. "My apologies for your dad." He casts a look about the forge, at some unfinished weapons. "Got quite a style, different then anything I've seen." He shrugs. "Enough chit. How much iron d'ya think it would take for, say, thirty of these fancy nails I need?"

Ironfist shrugs. "I never said I liked 'im." The ferret pokes the coals around some more, peering at the lump of steel he hopes to make into a weapon. He pulls it out with the tongs as he replies. "Not much, which is why I’ll make ‘em. The halberds come first, though."

Dane nods. "Thank you very much. How's the cost gonna be?" He says, leaning back against the anvil. "I got about fifty silver left in all.. Strewth, I hate buildup times."

Ironfist pounds on the steel for a while before answering. "I think that 10 silvers would cover it." The ferret smith picks up the piece and examines it carefully before sticking it back into the forge.

Dane nods. "Alright, that puts it at about... 3 and a half copper each. That's workable." He mutters this to himself, and looks back up at the blademaster. "Alright, that sounds good. 'Nother bit of business before I go... I just need a good knife. The ones you got out there, all for sale?"

Ironfist nods. "Look around a bit and choose one y' like. I'll tell you the price. Run off with one and every beast in Ruingate will be after you."

Dane grins. "I'd hate that to happen." He says, and wanders off to the main shop.

Dane returns to the main shop.
Dane has left.

Dane comes from the main shop.
Dane has arrived.

Dane wanders back in, holding a small, simple knife, and a somewhat larger dagger. He holds them both carefully. "How much for these two?"

You say, "Another silver for the pair of 'em." The ferret pulls out the piece from the forge again. "I'd like half of the payment up front if you don't mind."

Dane pulls out six silver, and sets them on the anvil. "Six silver. Fiver for the points, one for the pointies." He says with a grin. "When can I expect my 'heads to be done?"

Ironfist shapes the halberd head a little more before dropping it in the barrel with the other. "I'll actually be able to finish them by tonight if you want to pick them up." The ferret goes to get an ingot of iron. "I will see you then. Nice to meet you, friend."

Dane nods. "Call me Dane." He says, extending a paw to shake.

Ironfist absently shakes Dane's paw and gathers the silver from the anvil and packs it in his pouch.