North Sea Dungeon

[Yehla]

Yehla peeled off her beer stein from the sticky tabletop with a wince. The Cat in the Bag was a good spot to meet adventurer and have a good meal for cheap, but the hygiene was somewhat lacking. Taking a sip from her drink, she looked around, surveying the other patrons. Maybe one of them might catch her interest, this time.

After disembarking at the island one month ago, Yehla Damasquine, in need of a new party, settled in a little room in one of the inns of the town. She took her time getting her new life ready, scouting the surroundings and making connection around the island as much as she could, as per usual. She never descended into a Dungeon head first. Now, as ready as she is, the only thing left is finding companions. Putting her glass down, she licks the foam at the corner of her lips, yellow eyes sharp on the crowd, ears straining to pick up conversation. She's been hesitating to post an ad up on the Bulletin Board, usually preferring a more organic approach, but her luck was thinning it seemed, because not many people seemed in need of a magic user at this moment. Nor someone looking like her she supposes, tugging the coat tighter around her shoulders, fighting the urge to cover her horns. Moving in somewhere new always dragged up old habits.

Sighing, she opened her coin bag to count the price of the couple drinks she had. Might as well call it a day and go home.

[Rokuro]

The objective was simple. Secure lodgings that would be able to house a man of his stature, begin to network with other adventurers, prepare all of his supplies, then get ready to head down on his own. But all of his well laid plans flew out the window when Rokuro's body rudely reminded him he hadn't eaten. Cursing the hunger it seemed all his race were cursed with, he changed his route from the flophouse to browse the town square. It hadn't taken long for him to decide where to go. The outside of this particular tavern told him at a mere glance that he might be able to get a meal for cheap. There'd be no point in him getting all the way to the island and eating through all of his spending coin before he even set foot in the dungeon.

Crouching slightly as to not hit his head on the doorframe, Rokuro gingerly pushed open the door and stepped inside. With his head bowed, the occupants of the tavern would first see his shock of snowy hair, crowned with a pair of prominent horns. Straightening to his full height, it was painfully obvious that he was an ogre. And a powerful one, if his intact horns and teeth were any indication. At least, that was what the legends said about them. Rokuro quietly made his way further in, hoping the slight lull in conversation that fell over the establishment wasn't caused by him.

[Yehla]

It was hard to miss the ogre when he entered the tavern. Like everyone else, Yehla stared for a couple seconds before averting her gaze, feigning interest in the ceiling when the ogre looked around him. Once his back was turned, walking to the bar, presumably to order something, Yehla looked back at him, interested painted on her feature. She wasn't the only one. Ogre were rare around those parts. Something prickled at the back of her mind, her usual instinct kicking in. He seemed strong, and his giant stature would indicate a good way to keep herself safe. While able to hold her own in a fight, her forte was magic after all, and not the offensive kind. A strong type would help her greatly.

Tilting her head, the jewelry at her horns clinking, she watched as the ogre turned around, glass in hand, and surveying the table around the room. Most were full. Unlike Yehla's. Her appearance tended to drive people away. But, something told her horns wouldn't be so scary to the guy. She raised her hand and waved, before motioning to the empty space in front of her once she got his attention.

[Rokuro]

Clasping the mug in his hands, his gaze passed over the tavern a few times, distracted by nearly everything. Telling himself to be careful with the glass, the unfamiliar sounds and smells, the sights... But he paused on an interested pair of yellow eyes, belonging to a woman sitting alone. Looking at her for longer than glance made it obvious that the horns curled by her head weren't some kind of ornament made from a hunt's trophy. And then, she raised her hand and waved. Others might be put off by such an express invitation, especially from a mysterious woman like her, but a small, warm smile appeared on his face. She appeared friendly, and Rokuro had long learned not to think much of others appearances.

Quietly as he can, he makes his way over to her table, placing the glass down on the table. Slinging a heavy bag off of his shoulder onto the ground besides the chair across from her, he takes a few moments before sitting. Much to his relief, it doesn't creak under his weight. Bowing a bit, a telltale set of manners only an Easterner would have, he speaks surprisingly softly. "Thank you for inviting me to sit with you. I hadn't given much thought to how full the tavern was..." He started, straightening up and folding his hands neatly on the table. He'd have a terrible realization at how dirty the table top was later when he tried to move. "You may call me Rokuro. May I ask your name, miss?"

He was far better spoken than many other adventurers, wasn't he?

[Yehla]

She grins. Her teeth aren't sharp per se, but her canines do seem a little bit more prominent. Still, her smile isn't predatory, and the hand she offers to shake is friendly.
"Damasquine. Yehla Damasquine. You can call me Yehla." The Ogre's, Rokuro, grip is firm, and she does her best to return in kind, trying to show she's not to be taken lightly.
She signals to the bartender for another drink for herself before turning her attention back to her new companion.
"Right, what bring you out there? We don't see many Ogres this up north usually. Attracted by the promises of the dungeon, perhaps?"
She nods at the bartender as they set her third drink on the table, and takes a sips, eyes surveying the man in front of her. He's taller than her, of course, but that's rare enough for her to be noted. His face is gentle, his eyes soft. He looks harmless, but there's a undercurrent of strength there, tasting of iron and rock. She sets her stein down, still smiling.

[Rokuro]

"That's a lovely name." He says, a genuine comment not meant to get anything out of Yehla. By the way she carried herself, he realized it was likely she had been on the island for a while, and he was more than happy to defect to her expertise. With her question, he tilts his head back, letting out a hum of thought. Where other adventurers might want to keep their cards close to their chest, Rokuro clearly wasn't concerned with such things. Perhaps it was ignorance, or he'd never been burned before for being open.

"It's something like that, I suppose." He said, raising up his glass and tilting his head to inspect the swill. "I'm not really interested in making money, glory, or being a hero. Nothing quite as grand as that. I'd like to see what's out there. If somewhere is enough to move people from all walks of life across the seas, then there must be something to it, right?" Rokuro says, a humble smile on his face as he peers at Yehla over the rim of his cup. His eyebrows furrow a bit at the taste of the drink, but it's fine enough for him. Putting it down, he returns the question. "Circumstances like these attract a lot of unique people... What about you?"

[Yehla]

She hums at the question, looking briefly up at the ceiling.
"I used to offer my services something like ten, fifteen years ago in a dungeon on a small island, and those years were maybe the most exhilarating of my life. I planned to retire when the Dungeon closed but... I just missed it, you know? There was something really rewarding about helping people; I'm a support magic user, by the way; and I guess... I wanted to chase that high again? Among other things." She smiles cheerfully, but there's something rueful about it and she moves her stein a couple inches to the side, for no reason but to occupy her hand.
"So you know, sort of like you, I guess! Not for fame nor money, just to explore! Have you found a party yet?"

[Rokuro]

Rokuro nods, not a hint of judgement on his face. There's a certain curiosity in his eyes at her notion she worked nearly a decade or more ago in a dungeon, though. Tilting his head to study her a bit closer, his slightly deeper inspection gleans no more information than his first glance. Horns that were clearly hers, and no other sign of her possible race. If she wasn't showing her age though, then she was... Probably an elf, right? He doesn't voice any of his thoughts on that matter.

"I haven't found a party, not officially, at least." He explains to her. "But, before I even boarded the ship to this island, I made sure to secure some kind of employment. If... You could call it that. It's just for some experience, I don't know how many parties would want to hire someone so new. That being said, I have no idea who everyone else who signed on for this are..." Rokuro says with a sheepish laugh, clearly a bit nervous at the prospect.

[Yehla]

She smiles, narrowing her eyes. Sipping from her beer, she says: "I'm older than I look. Very good nightly skincare routine."
She laughs at his bewildered face. "It's fine, I'm just used to decipher the stare I get, don't worry." Putting her beer down, she tilts her head, and the jewelry clinks around her horns. She looks over him, from his torso at the table to the tip of his horns.
"What are you specialities?" She finally ask, before pulling a pipe from a pouch at her hip. "Oh, mind if I smoke?"

[Rokuro]

Rokuro's face flushes spectacularly at being caught for his curiosities, quickly lifting the cup back to his lips to hide himself just for a moment. The stares both of them got were certainly different, but he was ashamed that he slipped up. Rokuro wasn't all that fond of such looks himself. Holding back an apology, especially since Yehla already reassured him it was fine, he focused on her question.

"By all means, go ahead." He reassures her, grateful she took the time to ask before smoking. There had been more times than he could count that someone had done that. It bothered his body, sure, but he could handle it for as long as this conversation was. "I wish there was a more graceful way to put it, but I'm a fighter. My, ah... Specialties don't really boil down to much more than hitting something really hard." Rokuro admits sheepishly. "If it helps paint a better picture... They made me leave my weapon at the door. I'm not worried about anyone taking it, I'm probably one of the only people who could lift it."