Storm leaves the tavern after her interaction with Thrixel and Nill and heads straight for the Mage's Guild. 

She pauses outside the doors of the MG, takes a deep breath, and then walks inside. She walks right up to the counter and sets down a gold. 

"I dunno how much it costs but I need to send a missive."

The receptionist nods. "It's a gold, miss."

Storm pushes the gold closer to the receptionist. "Great. Paper?"

The receptionist hands Storm a paper and quill. She quickly scribbles down her missive and passes it off. 

Ten minutes later, Storm is waiting in the common room when a missive appears in front of her. She grabs it out of the air and reads. When she's finished, she reaches up and snaps her fingers on the corner of the page so it lights up and burns to ash in her hands. 

Storm then exits the guild and heads down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

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The barkeep watches with an unamused look on his face as Thrixel tosses the spoon over his shoulder. When Thrixel asks for another, the lack of amusement becomes something close to anger.

"No! I'm not givin' ya another oneuh my spoons fer ya tah toss it over yer shoulder onto my floor! Now pick tha' up!" He leans on the counter, hands pressing into the wood as he stares Thrixel down. "Make a mess of my tavern and I'll see ya out that door!"

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As soon as he pinches her arm, Storm turns a snarl at him. "Don't touch me!"

She stares at Thrixel, teeth bared, for several seconds. And then she shakes her head. She turns back to her drink, chugs the rest of it down, and then slides off the barstool.  She begins mumbling to herself though her mumbling gets louder and louder as she walks.

"Fucking fae. Fucking Stella. Fucking war!" Her mumbling ends in a loud: "FUCK!"

She marches through the tavern, slamming the doors open as she passes through them, and disappears into the street.

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Storm drops back onto her barstool as Nill returns to her seat.

The barkeep shouts at them. "This is a fine tavern! I don't need nobody climbing on my shit! Keep yer friend on a leash or sumthin'!"

Storm groans and presses her hands to her temples. "Sorry. Sorry."

When Thrixel touches Nill and she spazzes out and runs for the door, Storm can only watch. She sighs, turning back to her mug. She wraps her hands around the mug and hugs herself to it, groaning and mumbling to herself. Then she huffs a breath and looks at Thrixel.

"Ya know. Kinda rude to go grabbing someone's wings like that. How would you like it if someone did that to you?" Her expression turns flat. "Ya know what, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know."

Then she turns back to her drink.

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As soon as Nill scrambles up onto the counter, the barkeep's head snaps in her direction. Storm tries to reach for her as she passes by. The barkeep stumbles over himself to race towards her as she leaps onto the cabinets. 

"No! NO NO NO! YOU!" He waves his rag at her and hops up and down. "You get down from there! NOW!"

Storm jumps up from her seat and barks. "NILL! DOWN!"

The barkeep turns to Storm. "Get her down!"

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Storm quirks an eyebrow. "Dance... Fatigue...?"

She shakes her head and sighs. "Sure. Sure. That's it exactly. Has nothing to do with the..."

She sighs again. Then lifts her mug to her lips and drinks. When she lowers it to the counter again, she stares into the mug. Then she takes in a sharp breath and turns back to look at Thrixel.

"So, you came for a dance? And something about seven squirrels?" She rubs her forehead with her thumb. "So..." She presses her lips together and hums for a second. "Nope. Can't say that." She blows out a breath. "So, are you looking for someone or something?"

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Looking around the tavern, there are a few other patrons though it is quiet for this time of day. The patrons in the tavern all show signs of malnutrition and their eyes droop with exhaustion. No one seems to be paying any attention to the three of them, however, as they are all involved in their own conversations or daydreams of a better life.

Storm looks around. "Yeah. People are dying. They're broke. Volaire is in a bad way right now, Thrixel. We can't even leave the city right now for all the fighting still raging around us." She looks at the chaos fae and sighs. "You... Have no idea what's going on around here, do you?"

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Storm nods. "Oh oh. Gotcha. Okay." 

She shakes her head. "You are not..." She chuckles and sighs. "Nevermind..."

Then turns her attention back to Thrixel. "So... Chaos faerie? Gooooot it. Sure. Sure. Of course."

She tries to stifle a chuckle and then gives up, dropped her face in her hand and shaking her head while mumbling. "For chaos, he sure does hit the nail riiiiight on the head."

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Storm watches Thrixel with a raised eyebrow, and after he does a pushup and gets stuck in his counting, she grins.

And chuckles.

But when Nill makes her declaration, Storm's eyes snap to her and the smile drops from her face, taking on a more curious look. "What does it mean to be 'Unchosen', Nill? Why is he 'Unchosen'?"

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Storm leans away when Thrixel leans over her mug, her wings flutter to keep her balanced on the stool. "Woah, hey-"

She leans forward again, swirling the mug lightly. "It's just ale. Might as well be water though for all the good it's doing me."

The draconian tilts her head at Thrixel. "So, if you don't know where you're from... And don't know where you're going... What are you... Doing?"
 

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Storm listens to Nill and Thrixel. She lets out a heavy sigh as Nill declares herself butter.

"No! No. No... Nill is not a dog." She twists to look at Nill. "Or butter."

She turns her attention back to Thrixel and raises her mug. "I'm drinking what they've got left. Since the good stuff is probably in some bandits belly by now."

She takes a drink and sets her mug down again, staring at Thrixel as if she's trying to solve a puzzle.

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Storm watches as the faerie steps across the stools and plops down beside her. She listens and then watches the exchange between the fae. When the stranger addresses her again as Penelope, her expression turns bland.

"Call me Storm. I'm not Penelope." Storm sighs, takes a sip from her mug, and then returns her attention to the stranger. "So... You don't know where you came from? Or where you're going? So... You..." Storm pinches the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger and sighs, whispering mostly to herself. "Zi znubzo kso?"

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The barkeep quirks an eyebrow. He looks at the stone on the counter, flinches when the stranger claps in his face, and then frowns. 

"Aye, aye. You said tha'." The barkeep spits on the counter next to the stone. "Only thing we take 'ere is coin. A rock ain't gettin' ya nothin' but my mean ole mug."

The barkeep reaches down and wipes the counter where he spit, still avoiding the stone. "I owe ye nothin' stranger. Come back when ya 'ave tha coin tah buy somethin'."

He doesn't wait before turning and heading down the bar to help someone else.

Storm sighs. Heavily. 

"You must not be from around here. I've never seen you before. Slip in during the fighting or something?" Storm asks, glancing at the stranger before lifting her mug to her lips. 

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Storm closes her eyes and groans quietly. "I dunno, Nill. I dunno."

The draconian turns her attention back to her mug but her eyes glance at the fae stranger occassionaly. 

The barkeep looks down at the gem. He doesn't touch it. His lips press together in a firm line as he stares at the polished rock on his counter. He idly scratches his chin.

"Now. I don' think of meself as a... Scholar or nuthin' but I know the stories." The barkeep shakes his head. "Not had many winged customers though-" He looks over at Storm and Nill before he returns to the stranger. "Gettin' ta be more often these days." 

The barkeep puts his hands on his hips. "I ain't acceptin' a rock to buy what li'l ale we got left. I know the stories 'bout yer kind. Makin' deals an' all. If'n I touch tha' there rock, you be spectin' somethin' fer it. Tha' right, fellow?"

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The barkeep listens, an eyebrow raised as the stranger speaks. When the stranger finishes speaking he slowly nods his head once and then lifts the rag from the counter. "Aye... Aye... Sure thing. Ya gonna order somethin'?"

Storm looks over at the pixie hiding behind her and then at the barkeep before glancing at the stranger once more. She says something in another language and then turns back to her companion.

"Hey. You know that one or something?" She asks softly.
 

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