After a hushed tranquility fell upon the room for an interval of not many minutes, the sound of a slamming door rocked the woman out of her lull before the fire. Her droopy eye lids snapped open, but it wasn't long before she again settled comfortable on the ground. A light sigh quietly pushed it's way from her fair skinned face. A soft hand brushed back strands of hair that had fallen over her face while the orange light continued to dance in her pine eyes. It was decided that she had become comfortable enough around this crowd where she could remove her hood, which she happily followed through with. The hood fell around her shoulders, exposing softer espresso brown hair that draped down in wavy curls. 

 The sound of crashing in a struggle rose quite the ruckus from the floor above, but Helan only lazily looked over her shoulder briefly before returning to completely ignoring everything and everyone. Following shortly thereafter came a booming voice, which dragged a few people from conversation, thoroughly destroyed any hope of silence or peace. 

Helanaii still paid no attention to the petty squabble. She was happily minding her own business when the sound of a table collapsing ruined her current thought. The woman began to stand and turn, about to address the situation when she was suddenly shoved into the fire pit. Her nails quickly shot out into black claws while cat-like refelxes. She was bent backwards, setting her outter garments on fire, but still managing to not fall completely into the flames. 

It took a moment to get over the slight shock with a strong expression of bewilderment locked on her face. The woman pulled herself forwards, removing her curved talons that had sunk into the stone with a little effort. Now she brushed herself off and patted down the raging flames that began to climb her garments. She appeared unscathed from any burn injuries. 

Now irritation burned within Helan, and slowly her deep green gaze raised to the figure of a burly, unkept, noisy man came into view crouched over a scrawnier male. Her eyes burned like the fire itself, and she reached deep within her cloak, wincing slightly as she pulled a long black object out. It almost looked like a tooth, skinny at the very end then thickened near the middle, and again narrowed sharply to form a dangerous tip. 

Balancing her spike perfectly like a throwing knife, she flicked her wrist and allowed the narrow black object to rip through the air and plant itself heavily into the chest of the thinly cloaked man, whose shoulder held her scent. It sank deep within the chest cavity, and the reaction of a slumping body followed suit. It had been flung over the matter of a second, using strength no woman would be capable of having. She could already feel the eyes beginning to turn.

Now restoring her peaceful atmosphere. She carefully pulled her hood over again, turned to the fire, and sat down this time with her back pressed against the stones. Helanaii crossed her legs like an innocent child that was unaware of problematic situations, and returned to flame gazing.

An eyebrow went up at the explanation, it seemed a bit odd to her.  "So… basically he assumed just because you're a pirate, you knew that pirate?" she asked, pointing to the bag.  It seemed a silly idea to her, but Marigold shrugged it off.  she chuckled about the satyr.  "That's the first time I've met a satyr.  Not sure if I like them or not," she said, taking a sip of her wine.  All the stories she had heard of them were negative anyway, and that satyr was definitely not helping the reputation. 

Harrison's story was interesting, and it was something she could understand.  Though some parts of it just did not quite sound… plausible.  "Sharks?  I didn't think they were nice creatures.  I've never seen one, but I've heard plenty.  And they aren't creatures you want to be around," she said, her voice showing the incredulous thoughts about the end of his tale.  But perhaps she was wrong.  She only shrugged at the question, Marigold hadn't quite decided if she was going to sing again.  It would depend on how the night continued. 

Before she could answer, things got more interesting.  The satyr came back down the stairs, hollering about a thief.  Marigold's head tilted as she grabbed her glass and quickly moved out of the way, having no intention of getting tangled up in this mess.  Even when the woman who had almost been thrown in the fireplace grew talons.  There were a couple of simple answers in her mind, the first one being that she wasn't what she appeared to be.  Then a dagger-like object flew through the air, and Marigold ducked on instinct.  She knew from the beating in the back of her memory that she was less likely to get hit the smaller of a target she made. 

The black spike sailed through the air towards the thief in the ground, grazing Girfic's arm, and finding a way into the man's chest. He had just started to scramble, in an attempt to rise which only failed. A few drops of blood appeared on the cloak, staining it.

The Satyr grabbed the torn part around the spike and pulled it away, tearing it, revealing the leather armour that protected him. The spike had penetrated it, so that only the tip broke his skin. Not enough to kill, of course, but enough to cause enough pain. His eyes went upwards almost immediately, into the thief's eyes, where he noted recognition. Recognition and fear.

The intruder's eyes darted around fearfully, and landed on the bloody bag below the table to the Satyr's right, where the filthy brown hair was only just visible, then back to the Satyr himself. People had gathered around, except for the bartender, who stood at his counter, though not behind it as he would if he were working, a few drunks, and the cloaked woman at the fire, who, Girfic realized now, had thrown the spike which was embedded in the criminal's leather and chest.

[OoC: Damn, couldn’t wait for me to post? :P]
 
“Aye, that he did.  I’ve met a few other satyr’s they’re usually a tricky bunch.  I’ve usually run into the problem that they steal the women I’m after.  They’re usually a crafty bunch, don’t let that ugly son of a motherless goat taint your thoughts on them.”  Harrison said with a grin.  “They weren’t too happy about me roping them together, it did take some wrestling and I almost lost my other hand.”
 
Harrison was going to continue to have nice conversation with the young woman in front of him when the Satyr seemed to hell-bent on ruining everyone’s evenings.  The rogue sighed at the commotion, here he was hoping to have a pleasant evening and this ugly beast of a creature just seemed be trouble and not much else.  Harrison was one for bringing a little trouble here and there but at least his charming personality made up for it.  It was then the commotion almost caught another poor woman on fire as she was almost shoved into the flames.  What an uncouth bastard.  Not only was he extremely rude but he had no concern for the well-being of those around him as he tore through the tavern after the thief.  But Harrison wouldn’t help this man, after all he had dumped a man’s head on his table for no real reason.  He was just a rude creature and Harrison hoped that this thief was successful in whatever he took from him.
 

Harrison sighed and placed himself between the scrunched up Marigold and the commotion.  After all, Harrison was above all else a gentleman.  His blue eyes looked around, not wanting to get involved at all.  Nothing in this situation would benefit him at all.  On one hand he would be helping a thief who should have been good enough to not be caught, on the other hand he would be helping that satyr who didn’t deserve a second glance from Harrison.  But the rogue looked back to the girl briefly before turning his eyes back to what was happening.  “Well he just knows how to make all kinds of friends, doesn’t he?”

Quietly Helan pushed herself off the cold stones and rose to her feet, glancing once more into the flames before turning to the scene.

She took her time to approach the bearded man and the thinner man whom she had been hoping to kill, only very briefly pausing before continuing to walk past them to the counter for a drink.

"Oops. I missed." 

Her tone was soft, silky and flowed out like the sweetest honey. It had a sinister darkness to it however that could easily be missed at first. 

"You're right.  Some people just don't know how to keep calm and carry on without bother other people," she said, staring for a moment at the bleeding body on the floor.  But Marigold had to remind herself she had killed her husband with her bare hands, and she emerged from her hiding spot.  Already, the bar staff was clearing away the body, and a burly dwarf, one she knew to be the bouncer of this tavern, moved to speak with the satyr.  That could be interesting.

"Harrison… thank you, for protecting me.  You're kind," she said, favoring him with a smile.  The dwarf moved to stand toe to toe with the satyr, though she ignored that for a moment.  "What song would you like to hear next?  It's the least I can do to thank you," she said.  Marigold had a number of songs in her mind, and hopefully Harrison would choose something she was familiar with.  It was then the dwarf's voice boomed out over the rowdiness of the tavern, making it clear as to why he was the bouncer.  "And jus' what were ye about ta do?  Been watchin' ya, laddie.  That head on the table were bad enough, now ya shove that lady into tha fire.  Miss, don' go nowhere either.  Killin' a man is a bit much," he said, head swiveling to watch both of the violent patrons.

Girfic immediately reached for the now unconscious thief as the staff attempted to take him away, and pulled him out of the tavern, ignoring the dwarf. He grabbed a horse leash and tied the thief to a post, then retrieved his gold and an object wrapped in parchment.

As he returned to the tavern, the dwarf, eyeing him for a moment.
He then spoke in a lower tone, "The thief's alive, and it was he who almost killed yer woman. And he had this. Believe it's yer's." The Satyr pressed the package into the dwarf's hands, turned, and heaved a table back to its original position. He walked over to the bar as the customers returned to their seats.

"Give 'em a drink." He told the bartender as he left his bag of gold on the counter. "Wine, mead, whatever they want."
He himself took a seat near the door, a window beside him, the seat opposite his own empty. From there he watched as the thief moaned in pain, slowly regaining consciousness. The leash was tied a little too tight. 

Quietly she slid her cloak back over her head and continued to the bar, she too ignored the dwarf. She lacked the slightest hint of regret or intimidation. She would of have don't it again if she could. 

Silently Helanaii beckoned for a mug, and sipped the strong liquid that twisted her stomach. She winced slightly, then made her way across the tavern. Her delicate feet stepped over the splintered wood and made her way to this odd burly man that had roped the destructive man. 

She gently pulled the wooden chair out a little further before sitting down across from the Satyr. She too, watched out the window at the struggling, barely conscious man. Sipping slowly from the mug, she spoke on a soft tone while keeping her eyes locked on the scrambling man.

"Nice knot."