Bastions

"Well, none right now." She grinned, and tossed the booklet to Grant. "It's my job records. In there you won't find a single uncrossed name. Vince Vesta. Last man I killed, and that was a week ago." She looked down, hands now draped over her legs not holding anything. "Now then, actually I live Just down the road a bit, alone in the top floor of that old complex. I can't stand the safety of the rich areas. The people there are disgusting." It was true that she was one of them, though she detested the ego that they gave. In truth, she was feeling rather saucy this morning, she tried to hide it, but she was just full of energy.

Catching the booklet, Grant turned to the newcomer. "Good morning Owen" he called out, opening the booklet. Scanning each page, he could see the names of people he knew personally and through others. It was a bit nice knowing whathappened to them but at the same time, he knew what the guards did to prisoners. Silently he hand the booklet back and said. "Thats a lot of names. You sure all one of them deserved it?"

"Not really sure if I could do that kind of job. No matter how matter how much I got paid. Much rather just run my bar." Grant replied. Noticing small piles of dust around the back of th counter. It seemed that today, as any other day, he wouldn't have the time to truly clean the bar. Not to his standards anyway.

Harriet's people skills weren't the greatest, but it didn't take much to figure Elizabeth was nervous about talking to her. Such a young, seemingly innocent girl, Harriet felt a little bit guilty for being so grumpy. This might have shown as Harriet looked a bit hesitant, glancing to the side briefly and letting out a sigh.

"I just happen to visit this bar a lot. He's been a friend, that's about it." After another moment of silent contemplation, she finally gave in to her guilt. "Hey, sorry. It's not that I don't wanna talk to you, I'm just not super good with people." Her tone of voice had at least the barest hint of apology in it, so at least she was trying to be friendly. She then held out her hand toward Elizabeth, doing the only other friendly thing she could think of at the moment. A hand shake. "Uh, anyway. Nice to meet you Elizabeth. What's got you comin' down here to the Griffon?"

The conversation at hand seemed like it would go on for ever at this rate. While he didnt avoid conversations, Grant knew that he still had much to do before he would be ready for any of the usual customers of ill repute that would show up today. There was no time for conversation. Besides he still needed to see what that first girl wanted. He was also being slightly rude to Owen and Harriet, forcing them to wait.

"Absolutely, I just run the bar. It's damn good business too. Especially in these times, what with everone running about stealing, killing, and searchin' for a home. By far better than the work of any guard, noble or shopkeep." He began, "Why, I bring joy to those whose lives have fallen to pieces. Help 'em forget their misery for a while, and if need be lend them on of the many rooms upstairs, till they land on solid ground. "

"Don't mean to interrupt, Grant, but could I get two fingers of whiskey?" Owen leaned over the counter onto his elbows. He didn’t know the woman sitting at the counter to his left, but all sorts of characters came and went so this wasn’t much of a peculiarity to him. Owen was impressed with the way Grant handled himself against the bounty hunters’ inquiries, considering the majority of his patrons were of criminal lifestyles.

Elizabeth's answer made Harriet quirk a brow. That would definitely explain why she'd be in this bar, but not exactly why someone who looked like nobility would even be within a kilometer of the slums all together. She didn't even think nobles NEEDED jobs. Most noble families owned some sort of business that pretty much freed their children of any obligation to GET a job. And even then, she'd rarely heard of a noble turning to dirty odd jobs in this part of the city. With a thoughtful, though brief hum, Harriet surmised that she was either like Grant, a noble torn down by other nobles, or some rather odd case she couldn't think of.

"I hope you know this isn't all sunshine and rainbows, kid. Not to mention, you don't look particularly... Suited to the jobs here." Harriet was continually wondering to herself how and why Elizabeth came here for a job. It wasn't her problem if Elizabeth screwed up and got arrested. But maybe this was just a mistake the girl was doing. She sighed. It was up to Grant if he wanted to allow Elizabeth that anyway.

"Stay right here for a second," she murmured, stepping over to the kitchen door and opening it to the main bar. Half in the kitchen and half out, Harriet looked over to Grant and whistled to get his attention. "Get in here." She looked over to Owen, nodding to him in greeting. Since they both frequented the bar, probably for different reasons, they'd at least know each other a little. He was probably waiting on a drink. "Isabel'll be done in the back soon, I think. You'll get whatever you need then. Grant's busy." To reinforce that point, she looked back over to Grant, nodding toward the Kitchen to gesture him over.

The barmaid Isabel was indeed done, stepping out of the secondary kitchen door more further back in the main bar room. "Who, what?" She blinked, looking over at Owen and the girl she'd never seen before. "Oh. Hey Owen. Whiskey right?"

The barmaid was relatively skinny, though she had great muscling along her calves and arms. Probably from carrying heavy mugs and such. She had pretty short hair, in a pixie type of do. She wore a similar jacket to Grant, though it was cut off at around mid abdomen and left open. Beneath that was a white shirt, with a black tie around her neck and under the shirt's folded collar. Her pants were black skinny cargo pants, the usual cargo pockets down her outer thighs. (Maybe she'll get a full character description later.)

Harriet huffed, withdrawing back into the kitchen and over to Elizabeth. She understood Grant had things to do but she wasn't keen on keeping this Elizabeth person waiting. After all, that meant Harriet too would be kept waiting. And she just wanted to finish her wine. Walking over to the kitchen's sink, she leaned her lower back against it and once again crossed her arms over her chest.

"Grant'll be with us in a minute. Seems busy this morn." Idly, she tilted her head and winced a little, cracking her neck. With a sigh of relief, she turned her attention back to Elizabeth. "So. What's a pretty lookin' noble girl doing down here, looking for a job? Family all dead or something? Wouldn't surprise me, now that I think about it. You nobles can be a bit nuts with the zealous murdering and the like."

And, as she said, Grant was there momentarily. To his inquiry, Harriet responded with, "She wants a job, apparently. Was askin' her 'bout why she needed one."


Having been given the bottle of whiskey, Isabel wasted no time in going to grab a glass for Owen's order. Placing it down in front of the man, she poured him his specified two fingers. With a smile, she said "Just lemme know if you need anything else, hon," and put the bottle down on the counter with the glasses until it was needed later. Glancing over to Cynthia, she nodded a hello. "So, touching what Grant told ya; want anything?"

Elizabeth turned to Grant and Harriet. "The reason I want a job isn't because my family is dead. Its because I had wmough of being a noble and wanted to do my own thing. So I left, but I need money to live, so I figured I could use my Rune to help me after all I can do this." Elizabeth then disappeared into the air leaving only a thin black outline where she once stood, only for it to vanish a second later. She reappeared behind Harriet and tapped her on the shoulder.

Harriet flinched a little as the girl simply ceased to exist, and her outline slowly with her. It didn't come as too much of a surprise; nobles like her had all sorts of magic they could use. Until now, though, she hadn't ever seen one with the ability to teleport. Turning her head to face Grant with a confused expression, she was again surprised by Elizabeth returning. This time behind her, in the sink. It was a big sink, being in a bar kitchen, but also somewhere Harriet didn't expect anyone to be. She had a habit of putting her back to walls; eliminates a large area to keep eyes on.

In response to being tapped on the shoulder, Harriet turned around and backed away. Holding a calm, though displeased look on her face. It was then that Harriet promptly put her back to the opposite wall of the narrow kitchen, placing her hands on her hips.

"... I see," she murmured afterward. Objectively thinking now, Harriet saw the benefits of being able to do what Elizabeth could. In the sort of work she'd get here, it would be very helpful. Looking back to Grant again, she spoke up. "Looks inexperienced. That magic might work out for her though."


Isabel nodded to Cynthia, humming a cheery little tune as she walked off over to the far kitchen door, where the more common ale was kept. Filling a wooden mug under one of the taps, she returned to the counter where the two early customers were.

"What's got you two coming here so early, anyhow?" she asked, the conversationalist in her making her sound genuinely interested. And she was, to and extent. Not as much as she sounded though.

"Grant and I are old friends actually, and as such I try to frequent the bar and support his business. I was hoping to talk with him, but it seems like something's come up." He answered the question with a friendly enough demeanor, but shared Grant's discomfort at her presence. He wondered if this Cynthia meant to ferret out a bounty within the bar and, if so, he didn't intend to be in the line of fire when she did.

Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable whine of a teleportation spell coming from the back room. Though it was soft enough not to pique the bounty hunters' interest, the sound of Harriet's voice carried through the thin wall. Damnit, they must be inspecting another prospective thief… What are they thinking doing it in the kitchen of all places!?

He coughed loudly into his hand, drowning out what Harriet was saying and hopefully signaling to Grant that it was an inopportune time to assess the new blood. "Excuse me," he said politely to Cynthia.