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Dylan quickly pulls out his bow and an arrow in the blink of an eye, aiming it at the scrawny man. "One more move and it's over. Now. Get out. And take your stupid cronies with you." He snarled slightly and pulls the arrow all the way back.

Foxy was walking around the forest, wounded and hungry. She was bleeding a bit from her side. Foxy was looking around for help, before she fell down to the ground, shaking, and bleeding.

I woke up to a bump, I was hearing some things downstairs. It was loud enough to wake me, although, I am easy to wake... I grab the dress and transform into the red-head and my head gave me a screeching pain, "Ahh!" I hiss as I fall, I get up and shake it off. I walk through the upper part and walked down the stairs. I noticed some really disgusting people in front of the bar and the fox-man holding a bow to them. I raise an eye brow and mumble, "Well, look at that." I hold my head and walk to the table and sit next to the cat. "Whats going on?" I say with a hushed, pained voice. My head was starting to hurt terribly, and I was trying to look like I didn't notice it. So far, that was failing. I wanted to go back to bed, but I wanted to know who these creeps are more.

In a split second, Dylan grabbed his bow and pointed at the cult leader's pallid face. The scrawny creep trembled, but tried to hide his fear by making a weird giggling noise.
"One more move and it's over. Now. Get out. And take your stupid cronies with you." Very slowly, the cult leader put his hands up, smiling sanctimoniously and showing some nasty yellow teeth while doing so. Randle couldn't help but flash a fast smirk, while the mass of black cloaked men walked away in very sluggish, cautious pace. They weren't armed, Randle concluded, but that didn't make them less dangerous. Who knew how large their numbers actually were. And by the looks of it, they seemed like they were part of a horribly organized group.
"Just because yer allowed within the walls, doesn't mean ye should forgot 'bout the old ways," the man whispered, backing off towards the door. "We humans are the superior race.. as written in the history scrolls.. Don't ever forget that.." And his point was? History scrolls were full of bloody wars, misery and wrongdoers. The guy was stuck in the glorious past, back when non-humans were treated as slaves or worse. "This won't be the last yer gonna hear from us, beasts. Enjoy yer pitiful lives while ye can.." And with that, the sleazy man left the tavern with the rest of his cult in his wake.

The door to the inn slammed open, and then a bronze-skinned figure entered. It seemed as if this middle-eastern figure had stepped out of some gaudy, yet horrorish, story of the high seas, if one were to judge from his clothes. He stepped quietly through the entryway, before squinting through.

Could it be...? Auren couldn't help but wonder when he saw a familiar figure in the inn. However, this figue was currently in an argument with a very rude man.... Well, then, perhaps he could help with that situation...

He quietly approached the trio, and asked a question, "Is there any way I can get a drink here..?" He then turned to give a slightly pointed glare at the racist man.

Which promptly turned into a smug look as he brushed by them leaving....

I watched them leave. My face went from concern to confusion and worry. "What? Seriously, who are they? How did they get in the gates and why didn't the guards do anything?" I was so confused, this Kingdom was one of the only kingdoms free of Racism or Sexism and these guys just waltzed right in like they owned the place! I looked over where the guards were last, and they had left. "Oh, well that explains that." I whisper. I then get up and ask the Fox, "Are you OK?"

Auren turned to face the Husk, his normally serious face breaking into a slightly childish smile. So that was why the figure was familiar- the man himself was a familiar figure. "Is that Randle Pentecost I see?" He then took great strides over to Randle and proceeded to engulf him in a bear hug- as much as a slight figure like Auren could.

Childish, but could one blame Auren?

He follows bow with the leader until he walks out. Putting it down, he slinks it away. Dylan hops behind the bar and hands the man a drink. "I'm fine lass. He was the one about to have his brains into the wall. I don't tolerate being screwed with."

Pulling out a large bottle he chugs it down, not even buzzed. "Lass you should get back to bed. You seen in agony." He laughs at his words and her pained face.

My face twitches a little as I let out a small groan, "I am fine, er, no, no I am not." My mind was still quite puzzled, I walk back up stairs to bed and conk out. "Not my problem."

With the cult leaving, another figure came into the inn. A familiar figure. He had seen that face plenty of times before, but he just couldn't figure out who.. The brass-skinned man stood at the bar and ordered a drink. That voice. Damn, how could he forget a voice like that? How could he forget-..
"Is that Randle Pentecost I see?" the man said, walking up to him and giving him the firmest bearhug in existence. Well hell! If it wasn't his old partner the Dhampir!
"Auren Corvelon Aldori! Now that's mug I haven't seen in ages!" Randle chuckled, holding his bud tight and grinning enthusiastically, almost like an eager cub. Ages indeed, or at least, long enough for him to forget his own damned partner! "Never guessed you'd still be up and about. How are ya doing, you old lich?" This night become more and more interesting. But out of all things, Randle had never expected to lay eyes upon his favorite undead pal again.
As soon as the men let go of each other, the Husk looked at Dylan for a moment, but then turned to Auren again, smirking in good spirits.

Hearing the commotion under her, Lyra went downstairs. Two new people had come in, and the creepy men had left. She assumed her previous position at the bar, seeing as she wouldn't get any sleep if the commotion continued.

Continuing to drink, he observed as one of the girls came back down. Looking at her, Dylan smiles and drinking, getting ever so slightly tipsy after two whole bottles of liquor and five bottles of wine.

Lyra cautiously smiles at Dylan, wondering why he is suddenly so nice to her. She orders another drink and sips it slowly, observing the people that came in. The undead humanoid seemed to know the cat man, she noted.

He laughs at her cautious smile. Is she afraid of me? "Don't worry lass. I won't hurt'cha." Sounding sweet and kind, but standing prepared and ready for anything.

"I wouldn't be so sure, seeing as what you did earlier," He might act nice now, but Lyra didn't know what he would do next. Maybe he was just triggered, and Lyra could understand that. But she wasn't so quick to trust him after he left a bruise that would annoy her for days.
((Is there a posting order? Sorry if I messed it up))

((no there isn't)
"Well lass there is no need to be worried about earlier. I just got triggered that's all. Don't worry." he continues to drink.

Restless, I get up and start to count sheep. They say it works, but I have been counting for a while and I don't feel anything. I get up and start to shift into different things, first an old lady, who is tired almost all of the time. Then I get a crazy idea that could satisfy me. "Hehehe..." I say aloud, then I shift into a plain black bird, my clothes fall to the ground and I am trapped for a moment, but manage to get free. I open the door, which was cracked, and fly into the bar and sit upon the bar where the fox man was. I sit there and hop around in circles.

Confused he looks at the bird. He shakes his head, sure that the alcohol is now getting to his head. Putting down his current bottle, he just looks at it. "Huh."