Torn

The pub

Once we step into the pub silence falls and the elves, gnomes and even leprechauns look our way. 'What happened to the cheer, mates... ' Straq States as he stands in the doorway from the attached kitchen. His small posture barely reaches above the door click. The scar over his blind eye makes him look though, yet his smile implies something else completely.

Straq steps to the bar and stares from me to Mark. 'Ai, I see. Big boss returned home.' he says seriously. 'He even brought a stray. I doubt it's wise to bring a youngblood here...' a messy-looking warlock with a grey beard and long wavy hair. Some nightcreatures hum, other start to rumor.

'She's quite alright. ' a familiar voice mentions from the staircase.  
'Oh is that so?' The messy-looking warlock replies. 
Quick footsteps pad down the stairs. 
'She is, and she might not classify as a youngblood anymore, Remus.'Andrew mentions as he steps onto the last step of the staircase. I gift Andrew a kind smile as he restored some of my confidence. 

Mark and Ian share a quick yet guilty glance before Mark hums. 'Her kind might be a rare visitor in our realm, but that doesn't mean she don't deserve a chance to prove herself.'Straq mentions as he sits down on the counter, his feet dangling over the edge. 'So common, bring back the cheer... Drink and have some fun, for hell's sake.'Straq adds. 

'After all, we are allowed to have some guilty pleassures, guys, so don't worry.'Andrew mentions as stares at the others. 

'Aren't we, dear?'Andrew teases. Mark hums in reply.
'Ofcourse they are, He isn't that strict... ' Ian adds in defense, yet is cut short by the short snort laughter of the night creatures. Mark glares around the room, instant silence.

'Please, don't take this the wrong way, high priest, but sometimes...'A boy says, avoiding eye contact. His tail lays flat on the floor and his wings are neatly tucked underneath his brown robe. 'You don't have a banned list for nothing.'Andrew chuckles. 'Protection, I imagine. I might not know all of you, but I can assure you that mar-, the high priest's, wish is to keep his coven save.'I state, my eyes interlocking with the many particular-looking warlocks and other night creatures around the bar and in the little booths consisting out of an old leather couch and wooden tables.

'So even if her kind isn't a regular visitor here. Let's give her a chance.'Andrew adds. The night creatures stare for a moment before they either hum, sigh or remain silent. They look away and continue their small talk with their companions.

'I made the room, cleaned it a little, and provided the things you wished for, high priest.'Andrew mentions with a kind smile. Mark nods and glances upstairs to the few shut brown doors. 'Follow me, please.' Andrew adds. When Andrew gestures to the stairs, Mark makes his way up, Ian and I follow.

The staircase creaks with every step we set, the looming eyes of the night creatures follow us every inch until we disappear into the small hall upstairs. Andrew walks through the corridor and then opens the door on the far right of the hall, a red luxurious door with a heavy lock greets us. Mark opens the buttons of his nightblue blazer, revealing the black lining and a small pocket inside. He gently takes an old golden key out, which he puts into the lock. 'revelare' (reveal) Mark whispers, his blue eyes shifting to purple, steam flows out of the door opening before it reveals the old-fashioned room.