Seeking allies for Cold One mission.

Paelic growled as he read the wanted poster. Spitting with disgust he ripped the poster from the wall and strode into the Musty Mug. The barkeeper Samson gave him a smile. "How's it going Paelic. Heard you did some real good down on the docks earlier."

Paelic frowned and slammed the poster on the counter. "I need a drink, hell make it two. Something real strong."

Samson gave a manly nod of understanding. "Coming right up. Whatcha got there?"

Paelic pushed the poster in the barkeeps direction. "This blasted lizard nearly killed me and my elf companion. I want him dead. Know any good hired muscle around here?" Paelic looked around worried the moment he said those words. Seeing no threat he turned back to Samson and lowered his voice. "Muscle that isn't ogres?"


*Paelic is looking for another adventurer or two to attempt to slay that damn cold one."

Seros rarely imbibed large quantities of alcohol, and when he did it tended to be the fine elven wines he was raised on in Reikland. Being even slightly tipsy increased his chances of botching a spell and being consumed by some otherworldly horror. But after his day of being repeatedly shot at with a cannon, the sorcerer was willing to take his chances, even with the piss-swill they served at the local bars.

So it was that Seros was present when Paelic inquired into hired muscle. He recognized the badly beaten wizard from their previous encounter, and although Seros had proven the victor, Paelic's mastery of the spectacular and inevitably fatal practice of fire magic intrigued him. He was something of a connoisseur of magic flames, after all. Seros only needed to combine Paelic's goal with his own current goal of drinking away his cannonball bruises - which was proceeding nicely. He was only five mugs deep, and casting spells while drunk didn't even seem like a bad idea anymore!

"Greetings, friend!" Seros said cheerfully as he approached Paelic, who looked only slightly dismayed to see the chaos mage again. "Barkeep, get us a very great deal of your strongest, most awful ale. We are going lizard hunting!" Seeing that Paelic still looked confused, Seros continued, "It will be just like hunting worgs on my father's estate: We will dress up in fancy clothes, drink heavily, slay whatever creatures we come across, and accidentally shoot one of our servants in the face! A manly, bonding experience!" Seros waved his mug wildly to punctuate his comments, swaying slightly as the motion unbalanced him.

Appearing almost from no-where, seemingly almost from Seros' shadow for those who had quick enough eyes and the good memory to match them to notice that he had not been anywhere obvious in the tavern before then, Maelkur arrived dressed in the guise of the villainous Quicksilver with a mug of... he wasn't sure what it was in hand. Downing the unknown alcoholic drink in a single gulp, the vampire-elf smiled all the wider as he slammed the mug down on the counter in a rambunctious way.

"Hired muscle? Well certainly." He said, purposely slurring his speech just enough to make it seem as if he'd been drinking for a while. Naturally the alcohol in the drink did not effect his undead body so he couldn't actuallyget drunk but he could certainly act like it. Acting was one of the things that Maelkur knew how to do best. After all, a vampire must know how to hide amongst his prey if he is to survive anywhere near civilization. "Why, I see you've even managed to find Seros Changebringer! He's something of a legend down at the docks."

Tossing Seros a smirk, Maelkur decided that he probably shouldn't have taken that step but he did anyway. Quicksilver would have known plenty about Seros and his docks operation just as he was sure that Seros knew plenty about Quicksilver and his rapid ascent to power in the Lower City. Most people who had any sense of the underworld's pulse in Irolek knew about Quicksilver the Rogue and his House of Silver. Few people knew what he actually looked like since the description of him changed from account to account, an aspect of legends that Maelkur did not actively discourage.

"As for me... Quicksilver the Rogue, at your service my good sir." He remarked with a chuckle and a slight but still over exaggerated bow. "Let us find ourselves a lizard to slay!"

Seros squinted at Quicksilver. There was a faint odor of magic in the air, and the rogue seemed to be flickering before his eyes somehow. Maybe he should stop drinking, it seemed he had already had too much. Putting the thought from his mind, Seros bowed graciously.

"It is always good to hear that one's work is appreciated, good Master Quicksilver. I have heard reports of your dealings as well - they say your part of town is far safer under your guidance. And isn't that what leadership is all about? Imposing order out of chaos?" After the last phrase, Seros glanced down at his suit of chaos armor. "Perhaps a poor choice of words."

Paelic had quite a few drinks under his belt by the time the other two men arrived. His words had begun to slur and he stood up with a wobble. "I don't know who you guys, are.... Quickchanger and Silverbringer right?" Paelic steadied himself on the bar counter. "But you guys are really good friends to help a man out like this. Arn't they amazing Samson."

The bartender raised an eyebrow and gave a small nod. "Aye Paelic, they seem like a great group of fellas. I wish you the best of luck."

Paelic drew his sword but it fumbled from his scabbard and grip. "To Victory!"