It was around midnight and Rune was going to enter the Tavern he had entered a million times before, after all he did live in the city it was built in. Rune entered slowly, he looked around looking for a seat, he saw some familiar faces hear in there, in the end he settled for a seat that was seperate and clear. Rune wasn't in the Tavern for drinks or a crazy Night, he was there for the stories and for the adventurers he brought them. Rune settled his lute on the side of his chair and looked around searching for someone who seemed to have a story to tell.

She pushed open the door as she had so many times before. Her dark brown hair flowed as she worked on a gob of dark blood out of her curls. Across her chest was dried blood but it was rather dark compared to the regular humanoid red blood. She pulled her sword with her as she fell into a chair next to a drow with a lute. She clunked the large blade onto the table and a washcloth was brought over to her.

"Demon hunting again?" the barmaid was joking with her as the brunette grimaced.

"Yeah… Something like that." She took the wash cloth and washed her chest. "Can I have an ale."

"Two ales," a demonic voice came up from the sword and Nymph laughed.

"You can't drink it. Oh what the hell… Two ales I'll drink it for him." She took the wash cloth and washed the blood out of her hair. She took the mug as it came and chugged it right down. She had various cuts on her from her most recent hunt.

"You know songs bard?"  She pointed to the lute.

Rune couldn't believe it, there was a Demon Hunter sitting next to him, she was all covered in some kind of blood, demon blood he assumed. A sure sign of a good hunt, she even had a TALKING SWORD! What better person could he ask for a good STORY!? "Ummm, yes I songs from many generes." Rune responded calmly, he had a vauge Nordic accent. Rune adjusted some string before asking. "Vhat kind of songs do you vant to hear M'lady?" Rune would ask the Demon hunter for a story of her adventure after a song or a verse of poetry after all he was a Bard and he hadn't been asked to tell a story or sing in 3 days and that was a LONG time for a Bard. 

((For the accent I will simply replace W with V since its only Vauge after all.))

Calypso slammed her fist on the bar counter, sending her tarot cards flying.
"Do you two understand how much of a pain it is to be interrupted in the middle of a reading?!" she shouted, directing her anger towards the bard and demon hunter seated next to her. The entire bar fell silent, a crowded room full of wide eyes and flushed faces focused on the Oracle. She ignored them.
After a moment, they too, went back to gossiping and laughing and filling their bellies with mead. Calypso silently swept her cards off of the floor and reshuffled them, chanting a divination spell softly.
"Honestly," she continued, "were you never taught manners?".
Seven cards were now face down on the wood counter. "Shall I see if my cards tell your story?" She asked ominously. Without waiting for a reply from either of the pair sitting next to her, she flipped the cards in quick succession, surveyed them with a quizzical expression, and said nothing, leaving the pair wondering what the cards meant.
Reaching inside her cloak, Calypso pulled out a Joss stick, and lit it, placing it delicately between her lips, as if smoking. Multi-color wisps of smoke danced around her face as she waited.
 

Ryail hadn't been in the tavern long. he was not from here nor did he intend to stay long but one did not come to this part of the world and fail to enter this particular tavern.

he watched the scene unfolding before him and as it did a smile spread across his face. I didn't come here to do anything but watch he thought to himself as he made his way to the table but then again its a long trip home a few memories to keep me preoccupied while I'm traveling and unable to do research would not go amiss I suppose 

Ryail was always painstakingly carful in public to remain polite and professional, to do anything less would only invite questions he would rather not answer. although it was a risk to inject himself into a conversation he felt that in this instance it would be worth it to see what could come of this encounter  

"pardon me" he said as he sat down next to the woman with the cards "I hope my presents does not interrupt your reading". looking down the bar at the bard he cocked his head and asked "do you have tales of your own adventures? I saw the excitement on your face as the hunter sat down" he spread his hands and shoulders in an innocent shrugging motion and continued "I enjoy a good story myself, but its the experience one gets from doing the deeds, the feelings of exhilaration and terror that make it worth leaving my house in the morning. would you care to share a song of your own experience please?"

personally Ryail Morrigan didn't believe a word of what he had just said. he adventured to further his research to preform his craft on the flesh of the freshly deiced, be the death at his hands or that of another. but he wanted the dialoged to continue and who knew perhaps one or more of these people would actually want to go kill something instead of just talking about the kills they had already made.

one could always hope.