Utterly Mad

You guys start in *Rolls* medium sized city of Retarshk.

Retarshk is a city, well known for its exports of leather products. It lies in the human kingdom of Kuliy, and supplies boots and other items to the kingdoms military. Odium are fairly well treated here as long as they behave, as this is a kingdom in which the cult of Solaire has very little power. it is a sprawling city, with short building spread out over a large radius. your party finds itself at a tavern on the very edges of town, called The Ill Omen. you step inside, and immediately are greeted by a warm and cheery atmosphere, with bright lighting, a warm fire, And a burly Odium tending the bar. the patrons are your usual tavern trash. farmer come into town to blow their money away, merchants down on their luck. in one corner sleeps a very old looking man. the Odium at the counter looks up as you enter, and says "Hello, and welcome to the Ill Omen. Its just a name, dont worry, we havent had anyone die in here in months. What can i getcha?"

Leatherwing would order some sort of ale, laying down a gold piece.  He would steps past the table of merchants,  his talons clacking against the ground as he emits a very light growl.  He would take a seat at a table in a dark corner, waiting for his ale to come by.

Minus his glowing red eyes, Leatherwings body would be shrouded in the darkness.

(just so you know, a GP is WAY over an average ale. an average ale is 3 copper. you just got some friggin awesome level gourmet shit.)

Elena walks into the ill omen quickly scans the room and says under her breath "I don't like this place one bit".
Being broke she ignores all other distractions and proceeds to try and find some work.

Leatherwing scraped his talons against the floor before Letting out a short high pitched shriek. A large black hound would stroll into the bar, its right eye is reddish and a scar lies on its nose. It growls quietly and takes off towards Leatherwing, sitting near him. He softly runs his talon through its fur.



"Good Mutt."

Vessul takes a seat at the at the bar with his dog sitting on the floor beside him, and passes 5sp to the bartender. "Mead, please."

"No ones died here in months, huh? So someone did die here at some point? Local drunkard had a bit too much, I'm guessing?"

Leatherwing took a sip of his ale, clanking his talons over to Vessul.
His dog woukd stay at the table, guarding it.

With a raspy shrieky voice he would speak.

"Probably someone who asked too many questions."

"Well, aren't you just happiness incarnate!" Vessul would say, with a hint of sarcasm.

Pax sighed, looking at the two. "Let's not fight. I've seen far too much of that recently."

Pax looked around, at the poor farmers and the others, attempting to discern if any of them were ill.  he also pulled his hood back, his eyes glowing a dull blue color. "What kind of food do you have here, if any?"