Post by Drake on Mar 13, 2022 14:15:37 GMT
It was intriguing to see so many well-informed people telling tales around a table, reminded him of the last time he had met some of his brothers back in Vaalad, except the stories shared then didn't have this air of mystique, being rather bloody by their own nature, as real as those could get. This familiar sensation of a more tangible world than those of myths was what brought his mind back to the table, as the scarred human shared his knowledge of an exceptional tale within the four corners of the Silver Lion itself. Knowing one of the Veiled Lords? That didn't interest Özbeg in the least from a business perspective, if anything it made his contracts with the other parties in question somewhat rarer if it were to happen. Although the brute would be lying if the curiosity of such an individual got the best of him.
He hadn't needed to look over much, for Beatrice made it her business to walk carelessly that way without considering the risks of such an approach. Özbeg could respect a reckless hunter, but she better be good at concealing the blade after slicing the man's throat. Or something of the sort. Poison? Kidnapping? Endless possibilities, none of which he saw himself doing.
Not for free anyways.
Now, hunting myths and connecting their demise to his name? No better task at hand, especially being paid for it rather than sticking around cities or waiting for a new streak of wars and monstrous assaults. It was an easy way to gather fame and glory, even poach some for the town's alchemist and the always helpful potion.
His attention now shifted to the small, tipsy girl, a servant quietly taking advantage of his distraction to leave his food and bottle by the table. "Werewolf, yes? We kill big wolfses before, good pelt, warm us on far north." A giant wolf, a man-turned wolf, what's the difference, really? "Myth come from fear, we always hear. If not all real, some is. Make for good tavern stories." The Rabid Hound chortled audibly, grabbing his bottle of ale. A single hand lifts the mask up to his flat nose, slightly crooked from all the mendings it had to go through. His features seemes not unlike those of a wild animal, unexpectedly enough. Özbeg took a lengthy swig, wiping his mouth after.
"We have no jobses left now. If lady says she pays, Özbeg help. If lady not pay allses, she studies new myth: afterlife." The barbarian nodded, placing a heavy hand on the girl's shoulder as to be reassuring. "Now drink! Drink for little lady's first adventure!"