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Guiles chuckled, partly at the accent, but mostly at Julahc's assumption that he wished to gamble. It wasn't terribly surprising, but amusing all the same. "No, no! I don't play wagers. No, I'm recruiting for a march upon the False King that sits on the throne. I have three others," it took a moment to gesture toward the table, "And if the proposition catches your fancy, pull up a seat and I'll be happy to explain anything you like."

Guiles wasn't one to beg or plead; that said, he still found it difficult to play coy and sit down as though a no wouldn't be a big deal- because it would. Julahc seemed to walk with purpose, speak directly, and had a deep-seated feeling of honor. At least, that's what Guiles could gather and he was rarely wrong about such things. Not having such a man among his troop could really hurt his chances. Even so, he didn't press the matter...

For now.

(EDIT: Shanghaied by Mr. Blackbird Lore.)

A gentle breeze blew through the meadow. It was a warm, sunny day, and around mid-afternoon. During such times, it was easy to let your guard down, and fall prey to a short nap, which is exactly what happened. Rasven started to come back to consciousness.
He was laying with his back against a tall, shady oak tree. His hat was pulled low over his face, and his hands were folded over his lower stomach. He rose with a yawn, but did it a tad too fast and quickly felt the effects of a sudden vertigo come and pass while supporting his weight with one arm against the tree. He yawned again and stretched. Looking around, he couldn't seem to find Sarin anywhere.No matter, he told himself. As soon as Rasven began walking again, Sarin wouldn't be far behind.
Rasven picked up his bow and quiver and slung them over his left shoulder, picked up his traveling satchel, and began making his way down towards the little village of Hullaboola to buy some supplies. Admittedly, he was rather well off monetarily, so paying for them wouldn't be much of an issue. It wasn't long before Sarin flew past and landed in a tree a few feet away. Those yellow eyes seemed to be staring right through the Ranger. Rasven offered his left arm, which had a padded bracer on it, to Sarin, who flew to it and nipped at the human's ear affectionately.
"The road is long my friend." Rasven said to him, stroking Sarin's soft neck feathers with his right hand. "We'll probably be in town sometime around when the daylight is just starting to fade, you'll be well fed tonight, I'm sure. And the Steaming Whiting is probably where I'll be staying tonight. Why not indulge a bit when I've got the chance.? Besides, they have some excellent food from what I hear." Rasven said to his friend and continued to walk. Sarin took off into the sky and circled around for a while, following the Ranger's path in lazy circles while riding on the thermals.

Sarin was off hunting, and would be back in a few hours. Rasven decided to go get his nightly accommodations taken care of right away, and wait for morning before resupplying.
Rasven entered the inn and was surprised to see how laid back it was. There were many people in the room, and most had a weapon of some sort, but it didn't seem likely that they would use them. He received extended glances from many in the room, as a Ranger wasn't really that common a sight. On his way to rent a room for the night, Rasven the Ranger walked past a group of four. Speaking was an older man, probably in his fifties, who was railing on about national pride. Then Rasven was out of earshot shortly thereafter, and didn't really give it a second thought.
He approached the bar and the bartender struck up a conversation with him nearly the instant he sat down.
"Well good evenin' to you. I'm Nile Whiting, proprietor of the Inn. You are...?" He said, indicating for me to give my name
"Zeare. Rasven Zeare," the Ranger replied.
"Well what'll it be? We've still got a few vacancies, we're still serving hot food, and I'm not one to brag, but our ale is best of the South," he said cheerily.
"A room for the night would be most appreciated, thank you. And tea will suffice." Rasven said to him as I put down enough coin to cover the room, and a couple glasses of tea.
The tender looked him over once more, and seemed to note the attire.
"You're one of those Rangers, aren't you?" he asked in a polite tone.
"Yes, that is correct." came the answer. it seemed to light his face up.
"Bless you lad. Good folk, the lot of you," he said to me, and reached over the counter, offering a hand. We shook. "I'll have a room ready for you in just a few moments, but first, why not have a drink?" he asked as he handed over a glass of the requested tea.
"Thank you very much," said patron to the owner. Rasven took the glass and walked back past the group of four, where the older gentleman was still talking. He decided to satisfy his curiosity, and sat down at an empty table a few feet away. He set his drink down, and took his satchel off, and set it down on the ground, leaning up against a leg of the table. The room had a nice chatter to it; not too quiet, but not too loud.
It's good reputation is certainly well earned. Rasven thought. He sipped on my drink and listened to the conversations around him, paying especially close attention to the one on his left.

((This has been heavily edited to abide by my first two rules- Third-person perspective & NPCs are all mine unless otherwise stated- as well as to keep the bartender in character. --Mr. Blackbird Lore))

The oldest man in the room (Guiles, if you didn't know) was also eying Rasven. He heard what the young man had told the bartender- he was a Ranger. No one would better understand his cause than a Ranger. What's more, talking to this young man would help him take his mind off Julahc. Furthermore, recruiting Rasven could very well help persuade Julahc. So that settled the mental debate.

"Young man." Once Rasven was looking, he beckoned with one arm. "Come on over here, I think I have something to say that may very well interest you." Several folks in the room looked their way; of course they did, Guiles's little escapade seemed to be off to something of a start and he clearly had no intention of letting this go. They would no doubt be hearing about him in the future.

The ease with which he caught the Ranger's attention brought a smile to Guiles's face. There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke; he had a passion for the words flowing forth. "Well it's a very simple matter, so you won't have to spend much time here. I'm rousing an effort to oust the False King that sits upon Darivla's throne. These three have opted to aid me, and I was hoping you would do the same. You look the stout sort, and every able-bodied person I can enlist would be a great help. I will support my troops like any proper Captain to be sure, and my trio is currently enjoying their first night and drink at my expense for proof." He gestured to Raph, Angelo, and Siraon so that the could confirm his story, then looked back to Rasven. "So, what do you think? Will you join us?"

Julahc had continued on his way, hand-waving the old man as he sat on his own. A false king? While probably true, it wasn't particularly any of his concern. These people had treated him brutally, dragged him away from his homeland to fend alone! With heads down, they ignored him, for fear of upsetting the warrior. This man, Guiles, brought the first conversation he had had in a while.

From across the room, he eyed the man's group. The newest member, thin and wiry, looked every part the archer that his bow confirmed. Another archer. What looked like a magician. A single knight. Not much for a coup, he thought to himself, they won't even get to the castle walls.

Still, these people were banding together to stop injustice, for whatever reason. Julahc had been privy to the brutal regime's actions; he had seen men beaten on the roads, remnants of burnt houses, families desperate for food. He himself was brought in chains to join the king's army. With a sigh, the nomad rose, walking with purpose to Guile's table. He had nothing to lose, at least this gave him a chance to return home.

"You. Not strong. Bows and kren'nar. No blade. Need Julahc to stop king. But I need ship to home. After. You know?" He paused after every sentence, deliberating on his choice of wording. The dialect didn't come easy for Julahc.

(Kren'nar- Magic)

"It is indeed with just such intent that we burden ourselves with this venture." Guiles shook the Ranger's hand with a smile, which only widened when he saw Julahc make his approach. "I'm willing to make and deliver on such a deal, Julahc." He rose to his feet. "I don't know your customs, but here it is proper to shake hands when two honest men make a contract." The aging man then proffered his right hand and a warm smile. Things were looking up, that much was certain. Julahc was a fine addition that would round out this team quite nicely, and his foreign training would be a powerful asset.

"Just one question: what is... kren'nar?" The way Guiles said it sounded like kruhnr, one syllable instead of two.

Amidst all this, the room watched rather impassively, but curiously. It was rare someone- especially an individual of Guiles's age- followed through with such boisterous declarations. Seeing it build momentum rather than wane was unusual and stirred ideas of adventure and heroism in more than one. Unfortunately none would follow through, but thus is human nature.

After they had sealed the deal, Guiles looked upon his cohorts. "Alright, I'm turning in, and I suggest you all do the same. We're starting this pilgrimage early- with the sun, if we can. Get your rooms in my name. Breakfast is also on me, but keep it light. My wallet is not exactly overflowing." Then the "Captain" of this troupe said his goodnight's and departed for his own room.

((Alright, down the list. Ratchet: very consistent posts. I can't say much of it now, but I imagine as further relations and interactions develop I'll have more to offer.

Kaiju: Great work maintaining a foreign mindset and language difficulties. I look forward to seeing how you play those angles.

Critical: Let's be very clear: NPCs are mine. Everything they do is mine, unless stated otherwise. Everyone eying him? That's my say. This won't always be the case but it is now, and it's important that I stress it. Otherwise, I have no other criticisms at the moment. Solid last post with some versatile verbiage.

Keynir: Again, little again say with so little occurring, but you're also delivering good posts. And watch those new words- I do recall two of them were used inaccurately with objects, but still glad you're making that effort. That's what this Study Group is all about. Keep it up. Also, I just so happened to use the word 'wane.' I didn't intend to, but thought I would make mention and key you into another appropriate usage.

Once everyone makes another post, I'll move us to the next day and really get things started. Introductory combat session is coming soon!))

The warrior looked at Guiles' hand. While he didn't catch meaning of every single word, Julahc understood the gist. A chance to return home. Of course, it would be difficult. The lack of warriors meant he would face a large amount of the burden alone, as per usual; he would need to keep an eye out on the various magicians and serve as their guardian.

With a nod, Julahc clutched the man's hand with a firm grip, following his lead and shaking. His smile seemed to show that he genuinely believed in helping out his people. The nomad made sure to shake hard in an attempt to show his respect. During their coup, he would serve as his authority.

When asked about the word, Julahc paused. Staring into the distance, he in turn slowly clenched his hand into a fist, and pounded his chest. "Kren'nar. Inside power."

As the group disbanded (for a group they now were) under Guiles' command, Julahc did his best to state that he would be sleeping outside. Heading away from the tavern and the main town, he found a small nearby wood to settle down in. He expected to be up before his allies; dawn was an important time for prayers.