A Meeting In The Dark [Open]

[Horace]

A peaceful quiet had fallen upon the rows of boutiques and showrooms which sprang up on all sides of the main street leading through the uptown district of Ess. Hazy orange glows from lit candles cast little light on the dark cobbled street, yet the moonlight was by far bright enough to light any traveler’s away, even in these wee hours. As if on cue, a light clicking of hurried footsteps became audible. Emerging from one of the many zigzagging side streets moved a shadowy figure. The pale moonlight illuminated him briefly, revealing coarse stubble and stoic visage. A long rifle was slung behind his left shoulder, a long leather overcoat trailed with the slight breeze. Just as quickly as he had appeared, he melded back into the darkness, moving gracefully deeper into the shopping district.

Several blocks away, a metal sign groaned as the breeze rolled in. The red stained mug emblazoned on the iron sign seemed old and worn. Some would call the establishment itself a relic. Weathered brickwork in need of repair encased the alehouse, and two large double doors crafted from oak provide the only visible entryway. Despite its outer appearance, the Scarlet Tavern was wildly popular and an immense financial success. Perhaps the building’s age and lack of upkeep provided it with charm that the newer brew-houses did not have, or maybe some of the credit should be given to its owner Roland Longwind’s administrative genius. Regardless, the tavern did not seem too inviting at this hour; no candles were lit in its windows and the shutters were sealed tight.

This pub was the endpoint of the mysterious figures travels, at least for tonight. Those same clicks from well-traveled boots became audible once more as he approached. The figure had taken his time arriving, doubling back to make sure he was not being followed. Peering over his shoulder once more, he affirmed his journey had not been observed. He slipped down a dirt path which ran around to the rear of the building. Stooping over, the man deftly clutched onto the smallest of iron rings which had been cleverly hidden in a not so visible alcove in the rear of the building. This figure was certainly not groping in the dark; this location was known to him. A swift pull caused a trapdoor to rise abruptly a few feet to his left. Slivers of yellow light poured out onto the ground. Without hesitating, the man propped the door open and descended into it depths, securing the entrance behind him with a resonating click as the door latched into its original place.

“Mr. Chamberlain has arrived gentlemen, I believe we can begin…”

[.:Zodiac:.]

Ess was a dark and secretive place. At least, that was the way it seemed to Siem as he sat alone inside Scarlet Tavern. He used to visit this place often when on missions for the military. He much preferred Ost though, for it was his home, and he was still upset that whenever he got a day off they sent him here instead of home. Because it was closer, and they were too cheap to buy a train ticket to Ost. The last couple of times an offer came up to get out of work at Iton and visit Ess, he had refused, and chosen to just spend his day in his room. Then of course, there was that time he chose to visit Gypsum instead and ended up in a conversation with a lunatic. At least he knew for a fact this city had a decent book store.

He had just been planning on stopping by for a drink, and catching up on all the latest talk on the Council, since there always seemed to be something going on with them. Oddly enough he hadn't overheard anything of interest so far tonight, but he reminded himself he was on three days leave, and could always return tomorrow. He had just finished his drink- which he had bought more as a protection from odd looks, since he had never really liked alcohol all that much- and was about to leave when he noticed someone new.

"Mr. Chamberlain has arrived gentlemen, I believe we can begin.."

Siem smiled, and took his seat again. Perhaps tonight wasn't going to be a complete waste of time after all.

[Horace]

The man who had just unknowingly introduced Horace to all the tavern’s patrons was none other than the building’s owner, Roland Longwind. He was a portly man; his belly jiggled ever so slightly as his booming voice towered over all who had gathered at the alehouse this late evening. Roland dressed to extravagance quite regularly which was in stark contrast of his business. A gold pocket watch chain could be seen hanging from the pocket on an embroidered vest. Roland had removed his top hat with Horace’s arrival as it now set on top of the bar.

“Mickey, a drink for my dear friend Mr. Chamberlain!”

The owner’s command was eagerly carried out by the mustached man behind the counter. Producing a fine silk cloth, he began to polish a high ball glass, waiting for Horace to order his beverage of choice. The bartender would soon be rather disappointed.

“Water.”

His tone was rugged with a slight hint of annoyance in his single word. Mickey quickly filled up the glass with water before setting in front of an empty stool next to Longwind. Horace’s eyes scanned the bar, noting each individual customer. Before long, he found himself sitting next to Longwind as the owner blathered endlessly about a story concerning a rabid dog and a prostitute. He paid little attention, but merely sipped on his water instead.

The priest leaned forwards to Longwind’s ear mid-story and whispered something inaudible to the larger man. A moment passed and Longwind’s expressive demeanor darkened. Rising from his seat he proceeded to exit the actual barroom and could be seen climbing down the stairs into the cellar. Horace continued to sit, now completely involved in drinking his water. The bartender, Mickey, looked rather uncomfortable and would no longer make eye contact with Horace. Even a fool could see that something was amiss now.

[.:Zodiac:.]

Watching carefully as the man, apparently called Mr. Chamberlain began speaking to the owner of the bar. He wasn't exactly sure that was said, but Mr. Longwind was clearly shaken. Siem tried not to look interested in what was going on, but sitting alone without even a drink was pretty conspicuous. He glanced over at Longwind as he descended into the cellar. Now quite intrigued, he pondered over whether or not to approach the man. It wouldn't hurt to try and get to know the man, but he didn't want to seem nosy. He also wasn't much of a conversationalist. No, he would just wait until the bar owner returned and if it didn't look like anything important was going on, he would be on his way.

The bar wasn't very full tonight, and only a couple groups of men filled the rough wooden tables. He assumed most of them were factory workers, due to their soiled clothing and rough appearance. It also wasn't surprising to find most of them missing fingers. Siem leaned back in his chair, which protested with a low creaking. It was taking time for him to adjust to being in the city, surrounded by civilians instead of criminals. He couldn't exactly say he preferred it though. At least at the prison you knew you couldn't trust anyone. Things were much more misleading here.

[OOC; sorry for the shortness. I need to study for my Gov't HSA now ;w;]