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"Of course!" Drake rises with her, bounding to his feet with a lot more energy than what he actually has. He cracks a pearly-white smile and offers a mock bow. "Right this way."

As he leads her downtown, Drake continues to speak. "with any luck, someone of my esteemed profession will be there. With a lot of luck, we'll actually find a hire on the spot, but I don't wanna get too optimistic, you know?" His babbling, covering topics that don't need much, if any, discussion, oozes with the desire to fill the quiet air between them. He keeps it light but business-related in the hopes that'll hold Victi's interest, though chances are it's mostly him doing the talking until they hit a deserted sect of the downtown area.

Drake falls silent and casts furtive glances up and down the street. With no one in sight but a couple of tired old men talking outside the butcher's shop, he deems it safe to slip into a narrow side street. The cobblestone road is dark, lying the shadow of over-hanging rooftops, and the dank air smells faintly of refuse. Even Drake hesitates to go further, thinking he must have taken a wrong turn, but then a sudden bout of muffled but definitely raucous laughter makes him jump. It brings to his attention the faint cacophony one hears from outside a crowded room. His eyes drift to a rickety door on his left and then to the hanging sign creaking above it. The letters are have faded with age, being almost illegible to him even after his eyes adjust, but he eventually manages to puzzle out the tavern's name, "The Green Dragon."

"Ah! So this is the place. It's a little seedier than I remember."

"I've done that kind of work, but I usualy get hired through other channels. Not seedy bars in alleys. How much trouble are they apt to give me while I'm looking like this?" she asks with a cynical snarky humour as they reach the door and faded sign. She gestures to the illusory appearance and clothing she's adopted before clarifying, "Should I expect to have to zap hands? Not sure how much like you the rest of them may be."

"Yes and no," Drake admits, "If they recognize the form you've taken, then they'll probably leave you alone. If not, zap them hard and they won't touch you again." He inhales, preparing to brave the rank smell of body odor and beer, and pushes the door open.

They're hit heard with a wave of musty tavern air and rowdy chatter. Those nearest to the door pause in their conversations and offer the newcomers a wart once-over. The eyes of a few of the men do linger on Victi's figure, but Drake was right; most of them wouldn't touch even an attractive lady chimera, at least not while she has her cold eyes fixed on them and their potentially wandering hands.

It doesn't take Drake long to get comfortable here. It's been a long time since he'd passed through this town and stopped at this tavern, but he recognizes the man behind the bar and greets him with a big smile as he slides into a stool.

"Hey, long time no see!"

"Ah, same here, though I can't recall yer name?"

"Drake, my name is Drake."

"Aye, I remember. You're the chimera lad who-"

"Benjamin, I have an employer with me today and would really prefer she doesn't hear that story."

The barkeep's eyes light up as he finally notices Victi. "Ah, and who may this young lady be?"

Walking into the tavern was a bit of a shock to the senses, but compared to the charred... everything they'd been dealing with until then, it wasn't bad. She kept her eyes watchful. Most would probably see it as paranoia, but mostly she was making sure her tails stayed hidden. They were.... still there, if invisible, and she REALLY didn't want to have to explain them or have them stepped on. At least looking over her shoulder cautiously would be more normal here. Another plus side, they'd reach the tails before they reached her rear if someone did try to get handsy. Early warning system and high voltage rolled into one.

"Vivatia, natural philosopher with a focus on magic" she says in introduction, using the alias they had agreed on (not her actual name, something that vaguely sounds like a name, and something she'd actually remember to listen for. It had taken a while to choose one). "I'm curious about that story now, but maybe I'll let his dignity stay protected. For a bit, " she says, sounding disturbingly genuine.

"If I may cut to business," she says, slightly uncomfortable in the busy tavern, "I'm looking for a recommendation on who to hire for a job. The... low detail version we're willing to tell is that we found something that's much more trouble than it's worth, and some other people of... questionable motivation are looking for it. We need someone who can protect it for a day or two. Not small-time, either. Some very dangerous people are interested in this find. Strong magic, keen weapons... They have them, we need them."

Like me, for example she thinks to herself sarcastically.

"We have resources and I'm a good enchanter, very good, even. We can pay for whoever we have to."

Adriannu nodded slowly when the Magistrate complimented her on her logic on then waited to see how he would address her concerns. She was honestly rather curious to see how he planned to defend his actions. As such, she listened to him silently and without interrupting him even once, albeit she looked completely lost at some of the very high tech points. Though this shouldn't be surprising considering the technological state of her world. However her ears twitched when he mentioned coming to compensate them more usefully, clearly showing her interest at the sound of that.

"Ships into...orbit? Don't you mean into the sea? Also your people are alchemists then, capable of turning lead into gold, or apparently dust as you mentioned. Anyway I'm not even going to pretend I understood what you mean by umm...hydrosycamore gigaworks? Also what do you mean by war crime? There are no rules in warfare, just winners and losers. Putting the two words together makes as much sense as a fish with feathers. Also how would you death fleet even do anything this far on inland especially when you saw what happened to the coast...don't think it would be safe to dock for a while. I get you have magic, but unless your boats have wings, how could they even reach us? Now I'd normally I'd find it hard to believe that your bracelet is a weapon, but you did send me that disc with a magic illusion embedded in it, so I suppose I can take your word for it. Regardless, I have no desire to steal it as it probably just slide off my wrist and better a weapon I know how to use then one I don't." At that, her hand would gently graze the hilt of her right dagger to further illustrate her point.

Then as for the explanation how why she might be more effective then his soldiers due to being a scorpion rather than a beast as he explained it. It did make some sense as reluctant as she was to admit it. She had managed to use her unassuming appearance to kill a few adult beggars who tried to steal the food she had rightfully stolen. An overreaction? Perhaps, but by trying to steal her food, weren't they also trying to indirectly condemn her to death by starvation? Regardless, she made no attempt to argue that particular point.

However what truly served to appease her was when he brought out the daggers with grips that were visibly better suited to her hands. Kylarion would be able to see her eyes intensely focusing on them, clearly extremely intrigued on them. Yet even as he held them out to her, Adriannu still proved rather cautious, approaching rather him slowly and warily. The second her hands closed around the daggers, she'd instantly jump back to a safe distance. Yet this behavior likely wouldn't be a surprise to him depending exactly how much he knew of her history. After all, today's chance encounter with Lisa was the most positive experience she had had with an adult in quite some time. Naturally this meant that her suspicion of adults was deeply ingrained into her personality.

Now with the daggers in hand, Adriannu listened to his explanation with an expression that could best be described as being suspiciously hopeful. Wanting to believe he was telling the truth, but still clearly having a hard time simply taking his word for it. As he spoke, Adrainnu experimentally slashed and thrust with the daggers, still securely sheathed so she could test the grip. The result of this being that her grip felt much more secure and her attacks being significantly faster, but without any drop in finesse or accuracy. Already impressed, she carefully set one down on the counter before drawing the other to inspect the blade. Seeing the gray color definitely took her by surprise as it was so unlike anything she had ever seen before. However she quickly recovered and started to very carefully run the pad of her thumb across the blade to feel the edge as her father had taught her. The smoother the edge, the sharper the blade which left her looking astonished as she felt how incredibly smooth it felt. It made the edge on her carefully maintain daggers feel like utter crap and Adriannu was even more surprised when she removed her thumb and saw a thin line of blood on the pad. She knew her blades and hadn't cut herself testing a blade's edge in ages, yet the crimson line told all. Now the very end result of all testing was a kitty girl who looked like she had got the cream.

"Yes, starships. Craft designed for travel among the distant stars, as the name suggests," He replies to her, his tone suggesting wonderment and adventure, "I can, perhaps, show an image in a moment of my command vessel, the Agate Breeze. These vessels are indeed capable of flight, though through more sophisticated mechanisms than wings, and travel quickly enough that you see them pass by before you even hear them coming. As you can learn from the delay between distant lightning and thunder, an image is much faster than a sound. Objects can do so as well, though only if propelled forcefully enough, which is understandably rather challenging."

"Ah, yes, war crimes are not a concept here yet. Some day they will be, I suspect and hope, when the weapons become too terrible to behold," he begins, clearly having given this particular heartfelt, or at least presented as heartfelt, spiel a few times in the past, "When every soldier can carry tools which can end dozens of lives in moments, from a distance and with minimal training, machines can slaughter thousands of those soldiers with nary a scratch unless specialized weapons are used, and those in power have command over devices which could evaporate everything from here to the horizon in an instant, and they issue those orders from beyond the sea, with no need for anyone to travel and carry such a thing out, rules of warfare become important, as, in the face of its obliteration, the value of life sometimes becomes more clear. You are not here to listen to my treatise on the costs of warfare, however," his continuatio is also probably part of the same treatise, in spite of what he just said, "For now, simply understand that we have rules of war and that, in a sense, they are a form of legislated honour. Things such as 'Do not harm civilians,' 'Do not kill healers,' 'Do not force conscription of children or those of monoplanar civilizations,' 'Treat prisoners of war with courtesy and respect,' essentially don't torture or starve them, it isn't a useful interrogation technique, in any case, 'do not damage the fabric of reality,' 'Avoid causing excesive suffering,' 'Forbid the use of weapons of mass destruction on living worlds,' and so on. They are not about making wars fair or any such silliness, but simply about recognizing the enemy as people and not stripping a region of every trace of life just because your enemies have a stronghold there. On the rare occaision that these laws are thrown aside, at least from where I come, it means entire planets are reduced to nothing and casualties are in the tens of billions. Let us not dwell on such thoughts, however. They are irrelevant and unpleasant."

He picks up the bracelet, and puts it back on, hidden under his sleeve, before withrawing another device. It comes to life as a much smaller holographic projector, showing an image of a large crimson vessel which, by the size of the windows and their vertical separation, must be nearly the size of a town. "It is currently stationed above us, beyond our sight. A shuttle, like a smaller boat some larger ships will send if there is not a good port where the sailors wish to make land, will come to retrieve me once we are done here, and you will hopefully understand what I mean, seeing its flight for yourself," he explains.

He'd been speaking as Adriannu explored her new tools, watching her with an appreciation of her knowledge and exacting standards. Those blades having been nanomanufactured as they had, and enchanted by an expert, he had no doubts that she would be pleased with the edge and the enchantments. "I take it you enjoy the blades. Fortunately, they are yours now. In fact, the enchantments should have imprinted to you, providing their opposite effect to anyone else who attempts to use them, making them sluggish enough in their strikes to let you retrieve the blades easily." he says, unable to keep a slight smugness out of his voice. Those enchantments were his work, after all.

"If you have further question, feel free to ask. I would, however, encourage our gracious, if nervous, host to voice any further concerns she may have," he says, turning to Lisa and nodding politely.

The keep continuing serving his patrons and cleaning up around the bar as he works. "Ah, you'll find that my place of business sees very dangerous people on the daily, many of 'em perfectly happy to take on the task for the right price. I can point toward a few of them right now." He sets down a glass he'd just wiped clean and nods toward the far corner of the room, where some outwardly human men talk quietly in the corner. They wear discreet traveler's clothes and are armed to the teeth; the rest of the crowd gives them a wide berth.

"Those are skilled bounty hunters and regular customers of mine. They're more or less used to taking yer enemies out of the equation, but I don't think it'd do any harm for ye to fire an offer at 'em for yer gig."

Drake follows the gesture and sees some...familiar faces. Not a group he's personally met. Are they skilled? Yes, so he has heard, but he still has some concerns.

"Ben, to make sure we don't get stuck with someone unqualified, I'd like to make one thing clear."

He clears his throat and lowers his voice. "Among these people are at least one, uh... let's say at least one person of unusual magical heritage. As in when Vivatia says 'strong,' she means...how do I put this?"

"Go on." Benjamin raises an eyebrow as he picks up another glass to clean.

"Demons. We might have demons on our tail."

The keep stops what he's doing, and just stares, incredulous. "Did ye honestly expect to find a hire willing to fight demons here in my little tavern?"

"Ah, close?"

Alastor stirred, clearly not used to being woken up before he was ready. He begrudgingly opened his eyes, hearing something about moving. He blinked for a moment, still slightly delirious and letting out a yawn as he looked at Jules. "Well ain't that a great view to wake up to...." No sooner had the words left his mouth, he quickly rolled to his side and stood up. "GAH! Uh... Let's just forget that happened, yeah?" Great start, idiot. Very graceful. Nine hells, this is why I don't do anything of a morning...

Trying to recover, he quickly changed the subject. "*Ahem*, so, you said something about moving? What'd I miss while I was asleep?" Alastor glanced over at Neo. "Why does Neo look like he's been through the ringer?" An annoyed expression fell over Alastor. Damn it, don't tell me it happened again. "....Were we attacked?"

"No we were not attacked." Liliath spoke well she tried to stop the bleeding of her finger "I don't know what he tried to do, but it didn't work out." She said climbing down "But he is a bit stupid." She giggeld

"In here? Only if we were very lucky," Victi pipes up, a smug look on 'Vivacia's' face, "But not everyone you know or know of is here. I know finding people who are skilled and willing to handle something like this is tricky, at least compared to just skilled or just dumb enough to give it a shot, but I'd be surprised if there was nobody at all. A larger unit, maybe? Mercenary contracts come in more than just 'solo bodyguard' and 'small squad,' I know that much. Defected military units, bandit clans willing to be hired, ships of experienced sailors who are used to dealing with the ocean's nasties and like to line their pockets while in port... that kind of thing. And to add to that..."

Her iris-layers swap, and she looks around carefully for a few moments, hoping to confirm what she expected: the lack of magical practitioners. Mostly, yes. Some people had fancy gear, a supernaturally keen weapon here, a fireproof jacket there, but no signs of the magical 'musculature' of someone who used it much themselves, so to speak. Oh, one exception, actually, but that was fine, he seemed mostly like an.... herbalist? a poisoner? potion maker maybe? Something where magic use enhanced already magical plants, compared to raw magic. Hmmm... actually, maybe a bit of spellcasting, too, but not enough for her to consider him.

"You've only got one person in here with much magic outside of equipment," she states in a way that might give away some of her actual experience in dealing with sell-swords, "Flaming swords, energizing bows, and wound-healing armour are good and all, but I'm almost certain you know other full magical assets. I know those don't run cheap, but with the kind of hazards we're dealing with, and, as I said, resources to spare, it's what we'll need and can manage. Wandering wizards and things like that. You seem like the type to at least know of them, and where they might be, even if you can't put us directly in touch."

She placed a purse of coins on the counter, that it isn't Drake's may worry him even more than if it were, and opens it to reveal a fair amount of varied coinage, like the purse contents from a dozen random people in one bag, "Let me be very blatant here and say that this is to encourage you to talk about people you'd usually not discuss. Magic users can be... well, weird. Trust me, I am one. I'd try some euphamism, but I don't handle alcohol well, so anything about overpaying for drinks is out, and I don't have much experience with this kind of thing." She smiles happily in a way that definitely confirmed her 'weird magic user' statement, waiting to see what happens.

Did she...? Of course, she did. Hopefully, she snatched the extra coinage from corpses. Drake does not like looting bodies, yet he's done it himself during desperate times or as the job demands. Besides, the idea that she may have robbed innocent people who'd lost everything but their lives feels so much worse.

They don't need the money anymore, anyways.

"Vivatia's" demeanor as she takes over the conversation, especially the way the colors in her eyes switch places as she makes shrewd observations of the other tavern-goers, sees Benjamin fidgeting uncomfortably. She's creepy, to say the least. He eyes the bag warily as she slides it towards him, then makes the mistake of looking up. He flinches at her too-cheerful and perhaps accidentally predatory smile. His gaze returns to the coin purse with some mixture of disgust and fear making his features twitch; he doesn't want her money, but he needs to find a good excuse to reject it.

The keep takes a moment to fully compose himself before shaking his head and sliding it back to her. "You'll...want to save yer bribes for your new hire, should ye try her."

Drake suddenly seems a little concerned. "Her?" His looks away, tugging at his shirt collar like the idea of dealing with a female mercenary makes him nervous; it does, but not for any of the obvious reasons.

"Aye, her group goes by a few names: The Foothill's Lost Souls, Bloodied Talons, Eyes and Claws of-"

"Goddammit." Drake curses under his breath; he knows exactly who Ben is talking about.

"...though chances are she'd take on this job alone."

Drake slumps on the bar, laying his head on his crossed arms. His voice is deadpan as he says, "Aurora, the leader of these crazy bandits who stalk the foothills up north."

Benjamin, apparently enjoying the chimera's disappointment, allows himself a smug smile. "I hear her mark has been sighted on the edge of the foothills- hell, some tell me her shadow's been seen in the night sky. Those hills be only half a day's travel opposite the sea. Go there, being what ye are, she might just find you."

At that, Drake's ears fall flat against the side of his head as he growls. "You really can't think of anyone else?"

"I can, but for demons, I guarantee she's yer best chance."

Lisa takes an opportunity to find something she can eat from her own stores, not because she’s hungry- in fact, she feels quite the opposite -but because she needs to. She refuses to eat the Magistrate’s cooking out of sheer paranoia, and instead finds sustenance in a small jar of rabbit jerky. She forces herself to chew on it while Adriannu and Kylarion talk. She goes through several phases of horror and bewilderment, interspersed with moments of being pleasantly surprised by Adriannu’s shrewdness as Lisa starts to come to her senses. Now that she knows exactly where Raven is- on the table, repeatedly dipping her paw into the bowl and licking off the sweet, soupy stuff -and having come to terms with Kylarion barging into her home, she manages to maintain some semblance of emotional control.

Speaking of Raven, she seems so totally immersed in her treat that the others may safely assume she isn’t paying attention. It isn’t until Adriannu starts testing her new daggers that she reacts to a piece of the conversation. She ducks, afraid of being whacked, then cautiously raises her head and stares in awe and envy.

Lisa, on the other hand, has the face of a mother who’s absolutely mortified by her child’s unruly behavior, yet she can’t exactly say anything as the Magistrate carries on, describing sky-travel and crimes of war. Then he pulls up a projection, much like the one he’d first used to communicate with them, to show them the marvel of engineering that is his spacecraft. The Crimson Agate- she silently admits that he named it well; the blood-red vessel shines like a crown jewel. It draws her familiar’s eyes in seconds. Raven’s sticky soup-stained paw follows, reaching to prod at what she knows she literally cannot touch. Lisa reaches forward and gently pushes the paw away.

And finally, after he explains the magic of Adriannu’s new blades, he addresses her. She sets the jar of dried meat back on the shelf.

“Thank you-” For what? She’s still miffed he’d broken into her home, but he’d not done any harm so far and he may have saved their lives by even sending a message in the first place. She chooses to leave her gratitude at that and pauses to think.

“You see…” she scrambles to find words. “You’ve given us a lot of information. I-I appreciate it, but I don’t know what to-to think right now.” She scrambles some more, opening and closing her mouth, eyes lighting up when she thinks she has an idea only for that light to die when she realizes her train of thought is going nowhere.

She sighs, frustrated, and sits at the table. Raven slinks into her lap, but instead of petting her, Lisa lays her head in her hands. “I just need some time to process everything. Your Magistrate, thank you for your time. If you have anything else to add, I suppose I’ll hear it.” Her voice is hollow. She hunches over as all the pressure of today’s revelations have finally broken her back. Raven mews and nudges her elbow; the chimera lets one hand fall to rest on Raven’s shoulder.

"What, an old girlfriend with whom things went sour?" Victi asks Drake teasingly. Based on his earlier interactions with, well, herself, him falling for some bad-bitch bandit queen seemed preeeetty probable, at least to her.

"Sounds like she's what we need, though," she says, nodding to the barkeep, "Since my guide seems to know enough about her, and we are being at least nominally pursued, we'll head out and not force a contract on any of your clients by being attacked in here. Come on Drake!" She gets up and begins to walk out.

Sassy demeanor aside, her mind is mildly racing. Whoever this Aurora is sounds like interesting trouble, and, knowing bandits, more apt to ambush them and try and.... probably do something unpleasant to them? before thinking about talking to them Also, same name as Victi's family line.... well, after translation. Close enough. Amusing!

Shadow in the night sky is interesting data. Suggests she's a large flyer. Maybe some sub-varients of Drakes species can shift to a flight capable form? Or the females can? Then again, she could be something completely different. A demon herself with a hate on her own kind, or some kind of semi-rogue angel of battle, for instance. The 'claw' and 'talon' parts of two of the names.... actually, you never knew with angel or demon variants some demons liked being pointy, and some angels were just weird, but it seemed less likely than her Chimera, or other mortal shapeshifter, thought.

She was apparently a magical asset, though, so magically powered flight craft would be neat and possible. Best to let Drake tell her, honestly. Speculating was not going to be productive.

Time! Travel timing! A day's ride by horse could be up to... 80 kilometers if you were in a hurry and had a real swift one, if she remembered her analysis correctly. So about they had about forty km to cover, which meant.... about twenty minutes by Shriker. Fifteen if the terrain was real nice and she could open it up more. Her tired brain ran through those calculations one more time to make sure. Yeah, seemed right. Unless he meant on foot, then....

She would continue her distracted train of thought until Drake addresses her.