War of the Phoenix - Chapter One: Brave New World
 

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Gatzou pushed through the bar's door, his eyes adjusting to the change from harsh desert sunlight to the dingy phospurecense of the bar's interior. He lowered the hood of his travelling cloak and pulled his tinted goggles up, a dusting of fine sand falling about him.
He wordlessly went over to the bar and gestured for a mug of some unidentifiable ale, slapping down a few gold coins on the counter. He sipped the ale, the staff of his Kwan-Dao leaning against the bar next to him.
It's been too long since I've had a decent opponent...

****

In another corner of the dark bar, a figure sat, covered in robe's of dark grey. He did not lower his hood, even in the dim lighting of the bar, effectivley hiding his face. He slowly sipped at a mug of ale, seeming somehow to look nowhere and everywhere at once.
He was not here for pleasure. He was here to deliver a message. He was waiting for a women, almost entirely clad in red armor. She had been given his description, nothing else. She had been told to meet him here, on a certain date, at a certain time.
Though she had not been given a reason, she would be here, and very close to the appointed time.
The Gozerians did not handle lateness well.

Juras Pole pulled his cloak closer about him, despite the heat of the desert. As he did so, he unconciously fingered one of his knives; he'd never liked the desert much. He'd just come down from the mountains, and the heat made his skin prickle the way it did when something bad was going to happen. He drew a deep breath to calm himself, and coughed in the arid air. Glancing up, he saw a bar and decided to stop for a drink.

Derek glanced at the door way as a second cloaked figure stepped inside. Why were all these people here? He watched the figure at the bar from behind his mug, studying the man. Everyone here is armed. Is there going to be a fight? Or could this be just the place I was looking for?
Another glance at the second figure.This one is also armed. Perhaps I can make some money here...

Jack walked into the shade the bar offered, seeking the coolness after a hard day of work. He still wasnt alowed inside because he wasnt old enough to have fun with the old people.
"Two more years", He said to himself,"Or is it one?", He kicked dirt as he decided to practicing his magic after work, he only had another two hours or so left unless he worked extra hard.

Derek ordered another mug of ale from a passing servantmaid. He could feel the tense emotions in the room, and it set his blood boiling. His heart was just waiting for the chance to unsheath his broadsword and break someone. He also wanted to try using the skill the old man tried to teach him to use. Derek was finally able wield fire into a projectile, albeit a small one. He just had to decide who here had the most money and who would be the first to strike. He closed his eyes, listening to each little sound...

Juras took one step into the room and stopped. Suddenly he threw back his head and laughed, loud and mirth-filled; he'd forgotten how funny people could be. He'd been alone for a few months, during a snowstorm on the mountains. When he had stepped in the door, the tension palpably rose; with his laugh, it rose even more, making him want to laugh harder. Just by stepping into a room, he'd come very close to starting a fight. By laughing, perhaps he had. The man with the scar above his eye bore watching, if that happened; he had an air of concentration about him that said his sword was not his only weapon. Yet it was the man at the bar that drew his eyes: the staff beside him, a Kwan Dao he thought it was called, was not a common weapon, especially for these parts; a fellow traveler, perhaps. Or a mercenary.

Turning his back on the room, he walked to the corner opposite a figure in gray robes; that one hadn't started at his laugh. Something about him said he wouldn't be involved if there was a fight, but Juras thought if the fight wandered to that corner, it wouldn't be the man in the robes lying on the floor.

Ordering a drink, Juras settled back to wait.

Nios veritably crawled into the bar, tired and hungry. Looking around, he spotted a serving girl who didn't seem to be working and walked up to her.

"Excuse me young lady, do you suppose I could have a beer and a small meal?" Nios asked in his 'mediator' voice.

"Got any money?" she asked indignantly.

"Ah... about that. I may not have much money, but I have the next best thing, connections. Now tell me, what do you want more than anything else in the world?"

"Money."

"No, no my dear. Besides money. What do you want the money for?"

"...to get out of this pathetic hole in the desert."

"Ah there. Now, 'suppose' that one of my friends in area wanted to have a relative come and live nearby. But, of course, they can't just come out here. They'd need a house... and they'd need to get rid of their house. You, on the other hand, do have a house, and you're in need of their house. They could sell it, but they're not guarenteed enough money to come. So, they come hear and you go there. You both get to be where you want, and you both get to keep your money. Two parties are now happy. However, you need my connections to put this into place. So, instead of making two parties happy, you get to make three people very happy, one of them being yourself, and all for the cost of a small meal."

"You... you'd do that for me?" she asked tenatively, hope showing in her voice. She obviously hated it here.

"Of course... I'm a helper, and I only ask something in return so that I can survive. Now, whadaya say?" He flashed her a bright, trustworthy smile and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Sure, sure. I'll do it. Thank you, thank you so much!" With that she veritably ran back into the kitchen to get Nios his food and drink. Nios sighed, brushed the sand from his hair, and sat down smiling.

"I've still got it..."

Jack heard the laughing man and decided it was time to go back to work, he didnt really want to get cuaght in a fight. That made him think about his job and why they wanted him to do it, he was diging graves for a undertaker.
"Well, if I am going to end up in a fight then I had better finish work and get my equipment", he said to himself.

The laugh startled him, but Derek felt better to know that there was atleast one person here who could be at ease. Derek sat back in his chair, feeling better. He heard footsteps, and looked up to see another man walk in.

"Well, it looks like this bar has become a bit to popular," he whispered to himself. "Perhaps its time to move on, but not till I find some work."

Derek stood and walked to the bar, sitting a couple stools down from the man with the Kwan-dao. "Bartender," he said, "give me another. And give drinks to everyone here, my treat."

Gatzou raised his eyebrows slightly as drinks were ordered for all present.
He also slightly raised his now-fresh mug in appreciation to the bar's new benefactor, and went back to quietly sipping his drink.
He glanced around a bit at the amount of weaponry now visible within the bar, a small shiver of excitement running up his spine.
Weapons and booze... I suppose a fight might eventually break out. Too bad drunkards never fight real well...