The doors of the Kaima Inn opened quietly as Lyon Camaris strode into the partially full common room. Men and women sat at various tables, talking and laughing, but most certainly in a more quiet fasion than the many other pubs he had visited. This was a major relief, seeing as how Lyon always got a headache when he went into a crowded bar. He quickly scanned over with his eyes every person in the room, judging them, doing a visual search for anyone that looked suspicious. There were quite a few people that looked "suspicious", but that was no surprise. He himself attracted eyes whereever he went, thanks to his scarred face and the longsword that he wore openly at his side. He would just have to keep an eye on those that looked out of place.
Striding to an empty table, he sat down, trying to get his thoughts in order. He needed to get to Lomedor, for that was where he would get his work. He knew that he would find an employer, possibly the captain of one of the merchant ships that were constantly getting raided by pirates. That was his plan, and hopefully it would go accordingly. For now, though, he had to spend the night in Estolad, for only a fool with a death wish would travel alone on the grasslands after the sun had set. It seemed that here had been an uprising of outlaws lately; there were pirates at sea, and bandits on land. It was bad for civilians, but it meant more work for Lyon. A mercenary had to be opportunistic if he wanted to eat. He had no problem with taking advantage of the current state of chaos if it meant a good payment.
He stopped pondering as a young serving girl came to his table to ask after his needs.
"Just get me water," he told her.
"Are you sure?" She asked, frowning. "We have very good ale..."
"I'm sure." Lyon answered. "I need to keep my senses about me..."
She glanced at his sword. Seeming to understand, she nodded. "I'll be right back with your water, then, sir." She walked away, back behind the counter, leaving Lyon once again alone to think about his current situation. A glance towards a window told him that it had become extremely dark outside, as the moon was covered by clouds so that it's light could not shine down upon the planet.
Life was good for the people within the Kaima Inn. The Ale was rich, the people were friendly, and the jokes were funny. All in all, an Inn could not get any better than this. The Atmosphere of almost beligerent welcoming added an ere of fun to the otherwise peacefull drunkedness, or at least as peacefull as any particular drunkard could remain. None of the patrons knew what would happen next, but it mattered not what did. Everything was good. None would expect the other to notice the entrance of just another person. However, in these rural lands, Cinaed was not quite your average person.
The Drow had been travelling for a long time, now. Fleeing from both his previous captors and any Bounty Hunters who should try to stake a claim on his head. And so far, it had proved to have been a very hard head to catch at that. Across Arda he had flown, never in the same place for too long. Hopefully in this village, he would escape the sights of the Bounty Hunters and his captors, it seemed to be far enough out of the way. Being a Drow, he had no need for sleep, though the option of resting within a bed for the day gave him infinite joy, it would help to clear his mind and keep him out of the sun. Cinaed was almost excited.
However, stepping into the bar, the friendly atmosphere seemed to leave out of another door. Various eyes of mixed emotions looked at him, and he looked back with his own, emotionless gold eyes. It seemed that every second he stood there was another boost to his fame, or infamy, as it seemed. He slowly sauntered over to and empty table in the far corner, pulling his hood up, he waited as the eyes began to leave him. Sitting in the lacklustre chair, he put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on the back of his hands, quietly keeping to himself.
After a few moments of quiet contemplation, he heard footsteps approach him. Just as he looked up to see the barmaid and order a glass of water, a large jug that once contained ale slammed against the table. "What are you doing here?" Said a man lowly. Cinaed's gold glowing eyes took him in warily. A slim build, yet musculary. Somewhat leane. Cinaed decided that he was something of a scrapper, and his keen nose told him he had been into the ale for a while.
"Don't make a fool of yourself," he replied cooly. Cinaed was perfectly ready to teach the human a lesson, and he would do so unhesitantly if needed. "Just go sit back down."
Fatigue began to press down on Lyon. He had come a long way without rest, and exhaustion had plagued him for some time now. If he didn't get sleep soon, it was possible he would pass out. However, he decided to stay in the common room for the time being. He still had plenty of awreness to be able to take care of himself. He stroked the sheath of his longsword, hoping it wouldn't be necessary. Too many bar fights had broken out around him in the past, and if he got involved in it, he hadn't hesitated to draw steel.
Just then, the doors of the Inn opened, and another person walked in. Several people looked at him, Lyon included. From previous experiences, he thought the man was a drow, judging from appearances, even though those could be deceiving. Lyon recognized in the newcomer a man that had out and about for a long time, a traveler. The man went to an empty table, minding his own business, seemingly losing himself in thought.
However, as Lyon continued to watch, it was interrupted by a lean man that came towards the drow's table and slammed a jug onto it. The customer said something, to which the drow responded, though Lyon could not hear what was being said, due to the high noise level of the room. He tensed, wondering if there was about to be a fight. He watched with a wary eye, expecting the worst. Others in the room noticed it as well, several of those closest to the drow's table standing up and edging away. The serving girl that had been coming towards him with the glass of water that he had ordered stopped dead as her eyes rested on the two men facing each other across the table. If a fight did occur, Lyon's bet was on the drow; he looked dangerous.