Oh how long it had been that he entered a city other than Taras or Balefire, especially for business that didn’t pertain to anything annoying or stressful like dealing with Fehade or even Cordelia. Instead he was here with a young woman with only the aim to get a simple something to eat and drink. Hopefully it would be a relaxing night, but it was sure to be doubtful considering the Inn’s he had been in so many times before. The sun slowly began to sink beneath the horizon, sending a cascade of orange in wide expanse across the fluffy white clouds and blue sky. It was really a sight that disinterested him, but to others it probably was something that would make them ecstatic much like that of the woman in his company. People were so trivial and materialistic, it made him sick really but it really wasn’t his place to speak, mainly because he didn’t care.

Step by step he continued on through the small village, shooting the occasional glare at any person who even shot him a glance. Within a matter of moments they would finally reach the Inn where Manic would pause to shoot a curious glance behind him to make sure that the lady was still within his company. Noting that she, he would proceed to open the door and emerge through the threshold. Almost immediately his nose was bombarded by the smells of alcohol, but after a couple of moments it was hardly noticeable anymore. Scouting out the room briefly, he selected the spot in which they would sit.

It had been an excluded spot in the room, set off a bit from the rest of the crowd which was what he preferred, especially given their future conversation and how pertinent it was that none of the information got out of ear shot. Considering the ones that were involved in this whole entire ordeal; there was no need for them to know that Manic was searching for them until it came to the point that they were summoned. The key was to find them and to know that they remained in the room that way if they disappeared afterwards then they wanted nothing to do with him. Which meant he would have to hunt them down and the answer that he seeked from them would be answered by that action. Their purpose would be of no more interest to him.

Sliding out a chair from one of the tables using his foot, he would sling it back in the direction of the woman who shouldn’t have been too far behind him, “Sit.” Would be the only word to leave his lips as he moved around to the opposite side of the table where he would sit down, folding his hands upon the table. Without much of a wait the bar maid would approach their table only to ask what they wanted. Shooting her a grin and a wink he would speak up in a slightly cheery tone, “I’ll take anything with meat that you have. And for a drink, I’ll just settle with an ale…As for the woman, whatever she wants is fine by me.” Once Ash would request what she wanted and the bar maid left his voice would pick up again in a low tone, “If you could…On top of finding Aether Draka and Fehade. Relay ANY information you find out about the Divschatten to me. Don’t dig too deep though…We don’t need you finding out some information that may end up getting you hurt. Ah and one last thing, there’s a man I’ve heard about…Melmoth or something of that sort. A wanderer…I’ve only heard minor things about him, perhaps you may be able to find out his popular hang out spots? I wouldn’t mind paying him a visit is all…” With that he offered a grin, before chuckling, “Foolish me…You need to know who you belong to…Manic Deathstorm, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords…And your name would be..?”

Ashley had never been to such a great town! she rarely left the Norwood area and she felt very out of palce in her clothes of leaves and vines when every one else wore fabric, maybe she could get a dress to wear when she met these people. One spun of soft fabric, how nicewould taht be! Surly she would look alost less like a crazy amazon woman.

And so it began, he held out the chair and told her to 'sit' like a dog. Be grudginly she took her seat and pulled it in for herself. She was probably goign to meet people just as evil as he, maybe more so. And the minute he saw her he nearly killed her, so why wouldnt they kill her as well? Then she would not get a chance to dilliver her message at all, and her deal would be for not. "You nearly killed me upon sight, and if your friends, er, buisness partners are anything like you whats to stop them from killing me as well. I need a way to prove I'm not here to ruin their plans what ever they may be. Maybe a tattoo of some kind? Or a stoen I can show them?" She asked.

The bar maid was quite taken with him and she rolled her eyes, she was just as pretty as she and he winked and smiled at her and she nearly get her head chopped off excellent. but she had reason to be, her captor was not unattractive by any means. She smiled kindly at the bar maid who stared at her 'clothes' "I want tigers blood on the rocks. Thats all." She said thinking of the sweet taste the drink left on her tougne.

"Yet another, Melmoth? Ok, Drake, Melmoth, Fenfar. I do not know what is you all ahve in common, how can I mess up your plans?" She asked with a smile on her face. "And I do not belong to you, I am employed by you at the present moment. Manic, I shall call you by manic, not master manic, not anything as rediculous as that. I am Lady of the Ash tree, that is all you need to know." She said with a small smile.

The smell of alchohol was strong in the air, she was not used to it so she cringed at first, but slowly got used to it. The misty air concield their lips and the darkness concield their bodys. The bar maid came over and handed her her drink briskly, then waverd giving Manic his things, bending down to palce down the plate and glass, just a little to long.

A brow quirked at her words, not really interested in answering that quite yet, especially not with the permeating scent of the steak that lingered in the air. If it weren’t for his self control, he could almost drool at the delicious scent of it, mainly due to his eating habits as of late. They were far and inbetween and no where near enough to satisfy him as they should. After a few moments the barmaid would bring out his food, only to set the plate just in front of him with a wink. It looked absolutely lovely…The steam and scent that rose up from the food, the way the steak stewed in its own juices, and the sheer appearance of the mashed potatoes. The barmaid would once again return this time with their drinks, setting the woman’s in front of her and Manic’s respectfully off out of the way of his plate before moving away.

Wasting no time, Manic would take up his knife and fork to begin attacking his food. First raking his fork through his potatoes to shovel them into his mouth and then cut off a chunk of steak shortly after that he would cram into his mouth as well. Sure it wasn’t the worlds greatest of manners, but it didn’t matter to him. He was starved and that’s all there was to it. Lifting his gaze up at Ash, he would cram another chunk of steak into his mouth, clearly not finished with his last piece, “Draka’s a sweetheart, and I doubt you’ll have any worry with that woman unless you piss her off.” Furrowing his brows, another piece would cram itself into his mouth, “Fehade’s the only one you will need to worry about as far as I know. Let’s just say he’s got issues, whether his underwear got tied in a bunch or whatever the case may be. And then there’s Melmoth, I have no information about him that I can give you.”

Issuing a slight shrug, he would stuff another piece of steak into his mouth, this time sliding it through his potatoes first, “Now, you’ll only need my name and if they lay a hand on you. Then that’s blatant disrespect and I will take care of the issue quite physically. They should know by now I’m not a person to cross, so your worries should be minimal. As for belonging, you belong to me as long as I keep you as my messenger. You aren’t employed by me, because I gave you your only choice to counteract the other out of respect. So as far as I’m concerned, I own you. The only difference is that I don’t require my ego being stroked with stupid names like Master Manic. So frivolous…But that’s besides the point. Now do you have any other questions…?” With that much said, he would take his last piece of steak, only to drag it around the plate to wipe up the last of the potatoes, before popping it into his mouth and chewing.

There he sat eating his meet, blood from the raw meet on his plate, little drops returning back to the plate when he took his careful bites. She sighed angrily taking a sip of her sweet tigers blood. the taste hit her mouth with a freindly sweet and tangy flavor. The familar flavor through all the anger at the moment.

Ashley listend but only half, he ate his food, the others houldnt be a problem unless she mouthed off, malmoth she was on her own, false respect, her being owned by him. Wait what? She just told him he did not own her. No one would ever own her. That as an obserd thought.

Now as he sat he looked like a pompus idiot to her, steak in his mouth, fork and knife in his hands, bliss and flirting as he chewed his meat. She felt her cheeks get hot, not out of liking but out of anger. Ashley stood up and used her arm to brush the steak off the table. There was a shattering sound of galss breakinga nd peices going all over the place, silding across the floor. Ashley put her hands on the table and leaned as close as seh could get to his face. Inches away. "You do NOT own me!" She said angrily. "If you owned me you could do anything you wished, whip me, lay yoru lips on mine and I would let you with no fight, I would not have a mind of my own. However I do have a mind of my own, I would put up a fight therefore you do NOT own me! With respect I am glad we could make a trade for my life, but that is all it is, a smiple trade. SHEESH! a REGUALR person would have just made me pay them a hundred coins or something." She said still staring at him defiantly.

The second her outburst had started a sly underlying grin traced his thin lips, upturning them at the corners. The grin would only expand further the very moment that she had brought her face next to his. With a mock kiss blown in her direction, he would calm push back in his chair, the legs scraping loudly across the floorboards bellow before he stood up slowly and fluidly. Placing the knife and the fork down upon the table, his eyes fluttered off to the side eyeing the plate curiously in its broken state. Yet another who was beginning to push that fine line…The fine line that barely existed anymore. A sudden urge rose up in him to just reach out and grab her by the throat, to strangulate her, remove his blade and thrust it through her midsection. To run it and jerk it off and through her side ripping the flesh and exposing the organs, but all desire faltered momentarily…

Sniffing a couple times, his mouth and nose would twitch. Slowly his hand would rise towards his face only to brush a couple rebellious white strands of hair from his face before dropping back to his side, “You’re incredibly lucky I finished…” His voice was calm and smooth with its sound, but behind it there was a much darker sound to it, “Your perception of ownership is slavery. You aren’t a slave, you’re a servant. Serving my request which was to deliver messages, hence making you a messenger, but you’re serving my cause. You are serving ME dear…” There was a lot of emphasis in his voice when the word came to reflect upon him, even his upper body shifted on the release of the reward to bring his face to hers, “You aren’t serving that tub o’ lard over there, the hairy drunk over there, nor the woman in the pretty red dress. You’re serving the man in front of you, the man who still holds the cards of your life in his hands. The same man, who could destroy you on a whim, erase you from this plan, violate your existence and send you to the abyss.”

A twinge of anger picked up in his voice, but quickly faded away as he withdrew back to an erect stance, “A simple trade perhaps, but until you carry out my deeds, you’re mine. Those were the stipulations, woman…But it grows late and I’m getting tired of your presence.” Slowly he would turn from the table and towards the door where he would head in a slow methodical pace, making sure to step on the broken pieces and grind them further into the hard wood before reaching the door. Pausing Manic would lift a hand up to the side of his head where it would prep itself to snap the fingers, “Realize, you’re playing with fire, woman…” His voice held a venomous tone to it, but it wasn’t his voice that she should be worried about, but instead his hand. Because the second his words left his mouth his fingers would snap loudly and the table she had her hands would ignite up into roaring flames, “You’ve shown your defiance. Take heed to your actions, that is my only warning. Good night.” And with that his body turned ethereal in appearance and he would push forward and through the door, passing without a trace and disappearing out into the night.