Basala *DEPRECIATED*

"Well I gotta go somewhere I will be back later." Styx then leaves the store and the temperature rises a bit but it still remains cold in the shop.

"Tsk. That isn't very nice to say. Not all of your comrades are unpleasant for company." She inspects the flute for a moment, makes a face, and sets it aside. She pulls out her old lute and begins to strum quietly. "Regardless, some time may pass before I leave again- even musicians rest once in a while." She strums a little while while she thinks.

She stares at the ceiling, smiling, and speaks quietly to herself. "Though I could certainly find a way to make your time stuck here a little more enjoyable..."

Stu chuckles.

"Please, by all means stay. It'll be nice to have someone of your caliber around."

"Ah, I was merely implying that it would be a while before you'd join me on a wandering. But I'd love the company sometime. I'd invite you for drinks here if they weren't so "piss-poor.""

Syrita brings herself out of the exchange, suddenly remembering that there are others in the room. "Really now, anything interesting happen?" She looks around. "I don't see the crazy one."

"I've traveled for decades, it'll be a long time before I call this vacation off." Stu chuckles.

"But there are other ways to adventure in this shithole" He grins.

"Oh? And those?"

"You just have to get a little creative." Stu says, inspecting his new mug.

"Mmhmm..." Syrita looks thoughtful. "I did visit a bar with decent drinks about an hour out. Care for an "adventure?""

"By the gods yes." Stu exclaims.

He glances at Dahlias unconscious body. "People like that don't let me have a good drink."

He grabs his mug eagerly. "Well?" He asks. "Lead on."

Syrita sets the small ring atop Dahlia's head and gathers up her things. She glances over her shoulder at Stu. "Were I you, I might consider packing a change of clothes." She grins and starts out the door.

Stu places the cat next to Dahlia's limp body.

"Err.... Stay" He says holding his palms out.

He gathers his things and hurriedly follows Syrita out the door.

As Syrita and Stu leave the store, a mysterious thing wonders into the store. Its skin is so black that you can't tell where its legs end and its shadow begins. Its body has a shadowy fire outline its body. It has no features, it is completely black. Its only noticeable feature is its luminescent eyes. It wonders into the store seeming lost and confused.

OOG: This guy could become my new favorite.

Urijoshi looks up from her meditations. "Um, can I help you sir or madame?"

The creature says nothing in return. Still walking around confused. It looks like 'It' is shy.

OOG: 'It' will talk to you the next time you speak to 'It'. 'It' is just shy right now, it will fade.

"Stand down Lor'adal! You have no idea if its evil or not." Urijoshi faces the creature. "Ignore this monster here. Can you speak?"

The creature turns to Urijoshi, "Little, but I can speak your tongue." 'Its' voice fades into the language of the shadows then returns to Common, "Tell me... Who am I? What am I? Where am I? Who are you?"

'Its' voice is serious. At this moment you notice 'Its' eyes never blink or even have pupils.

'It' turns towards Lor'adal, "I do not know if I am evil. Am I evil?"

OOG: Who ever talks to 'It' next, just make a reference to 'Its' skin being as black as nightfall. For that is 'Its' name, Nightfall. Also it will be easy on me so I can stop referring to the creature as "It".

Mots looks around, curious to see if anyone else seems startled by the sudden appearance of so many unfamiliar beings. Observing the faces of those in the room, she realizes she seems to be the only one wearing such a shocked expression.

This realization sinks in and causes Mots to become fairly self-conscious. She tightens her expression and clenches her fists.
"Excuse me" she tries to interject. "I'm sorry, but what exactly is going on? Who was that gnome? Who is that blue fellow with the swords? Who are any of you, for that matter? There's far too many people in and out of here everyday for me to possibly keep track! I don't remember meeting more than half of you."

Mots catches herself, realizing that she is interrupting. "Oh... my apologies, newcomer."
"I'm not even certain I know who I am, honestly. I'm afraid I can't tell you your identity. And your appearance baffles me. What are you, indeed, with skin as dark as nightfall?"

"At any rate," Mots extends her hand, "my name is Mots."

"Nightfall... Perhaps that is my name... Is it? I like it." Nightfall turns to Mots, "Nice to meet you, Mots."

You can hear him struggling to pronounce Mots' name. "I'm sorry, it is hard to talk as you all do. Your language is different." He then mutters off into the shadow language heard before.

"I-I just said my name?" Mots delicately withdraws her unshaken hand. "I'm Mots. I'm a ranger as well."

Nightfall looks towards Lor'adal, "What shadows? Do you think I'm dangerous? Why? I must know, I need to find out who I am."

"Okay we'll deal with everyone's crisis of identity one at a time." She turns to Nightfall, "Right now, my friend we have no idea who you are. But being evil is a choice, and you a certainly not evil. Lor'adal is a deamon hunter and demons are evil creatures." She then turns to Mots, "You, by the looks of it has lost your mind. You're an alienist Mots. You're not even good with any weapon. You've been apart of Team Rape and Pillage for longer than I. We are all your friends."

"So am I a Demon? I am so confused... How I got here was even a mystery." Nightfall thinks about his sudden appearance into existence which happened only an hour ago.