'Nother storm, 'nother breeze, 'nother wet outfit

[Grim Jestor]

...unnoticed by anyone, for the time being, a small and silent wizard's eye floats as if on an invisible string, peering out of the dark shadows near the peak of the rough-hewn wood-beamed ceiling, at the events unfolding down below. A troll and an elf appear to be engaged in some kind of political discussion, a common thing here in the great city of Degolburg, while several others observe from their various places, not sure if they should get involved or enjoy the show. Cedrik the barkeep, neutral as usual (for neutrality is a bar-keep's best weapon in a lively discussion or a bar fight), stands waiting for drink orders and only half paying attention to the impending fracas. Fights are common among his patrons, and his interest only extends to keeping his premises free from damage if possible. He's not about to let the venerable Boar's Head Inn, which he inherited from his father, and was run by his father's father before that, be torn down over a difference of opinion. So he stands there, waiting to see where this is going, and then a felyn walks in and completely spoils the moment, not even aware of what she has interrupted. All those concerned turn their attention away from each other and toward the intruder, except of course for Cedrik whose attention is somehow on everyone at once, at least all of those who are actually in the bar area at this time. Blinking once before vanishing, the wizard's eye is called back by its owner, who although interested in the quickly unfolding events must attend to more pressing business, and decides to check back in later...

[Laurana]

Not long over a year after the incident took place, in Layla's old seat sits a new cloaked figure. In replace of a glass of water there resides a flute of blood-red wine. Those who look closely can make out the pair of deep blue eyes that lie under the black hood, watching the bar and its surroundings. Not primarily deep in color, the deepness remains within the seemed depth of her eyes themselves. Mysterious and bright they remain to appear. By more than mere coincidence, her thoughts are about that seat's previous, late occupant. "..."

[Darren]

Darren silently enters the tavern, holding a small bag. He looks around shiftily, as if wary about everyone around him.

[Laurana]

She waves hello to Darren, giving a smile.

[Darren]

Darren smiles back and orders a drink from the barkeep, while putting the bag in his backpack.

[Laurana]

She looks around the bar, humming faintly.

[Jaron [new user]]

A hooded figure slowly pushed open the door to the inn. Interesting..., Jaron thought. He walked inside, hoping, on the inside, to not be noticed, but he knew it was a futile effort; his choice of clothing almost always stood out. Jaron took a seat on one of the chairs and removed his hood, revealing a head of well-combed white hair. Of course, his hair color often forced him to stand out amongst the crowd as well. Sighing, he glanced at all those around him.