The tiefling takes notice of her look of worry. This certainly was not an ideal situation, being outnumbered and surrounded as they were. It didn't look like anyone else in the tavern was willing to jump to their aid either.

"Well, you gentlemen heard the lady. Outside. Now." As he speaks, the lanterns illuminating the tavern flicker and darken as an ominous, oppressive aura emanates from the tiefling.^[1] 

The goons still have their weapons drawn, but now they stand trembling in their boots. The tiefling starts circling about the room, casually herding them outside as they step away from him out of fear. One makes a break for a nearby alleyway, fully abandoning the impending fight. 

Zarius chuckles. "Anyone else wise enough to do the same? You have one last chance before you regret your decisions this day deeply."

The remaining goons exchange frightened looks, having lost the will to fight before something they simply cannot understand. The influence that has gripped their minds and hearts forces cowardice into them, drowning out any drunken rage or aggression. Despite their best efforts to resist, whispers echo between their ears and further instill fear in them until they have no choice but to flee as their hearts race and they break out in cold sweats. 

Tilting his head in amusement, the tiefling watches as the goons scatter across the street and disappear into the many darkened alleys of Darkveil. 

He looks back at Persephone. "No blood necessary."

---

[1] Invoke Fear (1/2 per topic)

Alright, this man was… Otherworldly. Now keep in mind, he didn’t scare her. Not even a little bit. But, also, she was not on his bad side… Nor did she want to be. Persie drew a bit of a short breath, trying to relax herself a little.

“Well that was hot.” She notes, a teasing little smirk surfacing as she lowered the bow and re-quivered the arrow. What else was she supposed to say? She didn’t dare approach him right now, of course. “Let me guess. Fear magic? Maybe you oughta teach me that little trick… My good looks can only get me so far.” Again, a small flirtation, a little wink.

She was definitely impressed, but she could probably guess he wasn’t - This man does not seem like the type to enjoy chaos as she does. Persie just sighs. “I know, I overreacted… Probably should hold myself back from stabbing people. But I do get very annoyed when tall ogres tell me to demure myself for them.”

The tavern seemed to be going back to it’s normal routine, as the thugs left and there was no more threat of bloodshed. People kept their eyes on the duo, but more or less kept to their own.

After the goons have run away with their tails between their legs, Zarius looks over at Persephone. So, she was an archer. Interesting. He wonders if she has any experience with tracking and hunting. Those were skills that could be useful in the future should he require the assistance of a hunter who wasn't Cyran. Though he had no intentions of going behind the elf's back at the present time. 

"I have no talent for magic if I am being honest," he says with a smile. "I do not think this is something I can teach you."

He steps past her and back into the tavern where things were returning to normal. Some of the folk avert their eyes as he passes them, not looking to draw the tiefling's ire from their eavesdropping. "In this city, stabbing someone and not finishing the job is a good way to get a hit out on you unless you have some pretty powerful people to rely on."

Pulling out a chair, he gestures for Persephone to sit before taking his own seat across the table from her. "You never know what kinds of connections even these lowly grunts have. The last thing you want is to have an Ashen Father sending their forces after you."

He props his elbows on the table and folds his hands. "Though I suppose you likely already know all that." 

Persie followed, her eyes following him as she stepped behind a bit slowly, the bow finding it’s place on the table as she sat down at the offered seat. She was curious, and was honestly only getting more and more curious the more he went on. “I had every intention on finishing what I started,” She claims, confident in her ability to back up her bullshit. “Forgive me, I’m not as suave in the ways of the city people, but as far as I am concerned, the Darkwoods does have similar rules in that aspect. We finish what we start, no matter the consequences. Mother did always bash my tendency to be too big for my britches.” She shrugs, smirking a little as she leans in, her hand resting on her chin as she hung to the words he said.

“You… Intrigue me. Unfortunately, I have little idea what an ‘ashen father’ is, but I do know… I want you on my side. I am hoping I haven’t yet ruined the opportunity to have an.. Interesting relationship here.” She tilts her head at him. “What can I do to make sure we’re on good terms?”

Zarius chuckles a bit. "Not rules, per say. It is more like there are guidelines that are generally a good idea to follow."

He glances about the patrons of the tavern. A few eavesdroppers look away when they notice him looking their way. He just smirks at their reactions to him. 

"A city run entirely by criminals hardly has any rules carved in stone. Even if there were, there will always be someone else with a chisel or a hammer ready to change or break them."

He'd broken his fair share of laws across Charon and he has certainly manipulated things in Darkveil. In fact, he planned on making much bigger changes with time. He just needed the resources to do so. 

"Perhaps you should listen to your mother. Just because you take out a handful of guards does not mean more would not hunt you down either out of revenge or simply to prove a point." He leans back in his chair. "Picking and choosing your fights wisely is a practiced skill."

Admittedly, he had made similar bad choices in his years. There were some fights he never should have gotten into and there were even ones he had backed down from out of self preservation. It wasn't something he thought much of most of the time. Surviving to see another day was as much a tactic as any. 

There's a look of surprise on his face when she says she does not know about the Ashen Fathers. She must have really grown up deep in the Deadwood to not know about the most powerful people in the Ash Lands.

"We are already on fine terms. Just do not pin my hands to a table and you have nothing to worry," he says with a joking tone and an amused smile. 

Persie giggles. “Here I am, picking a battle; I do not think I would survive an encounter with you.” She taps her fingers as she also glances around - People were a lot less shy about staring at her. She just rolled her eyes and stuck her focus back on the Tiefling.

“Listening to my mother is boring. She doesn’t let me do anything fun.” She adjusts her hand a little, rubbing the scar on her palm as if it itched. Something distracted her for a moment, as if a small shock went through her body. It passed, though, not a moment later, and she started to fidget with the small vial around her neck. "And anyways, the chaos is something I enjoy about the city. It's *never* boring."

“So, what about things you *can* teach me. Tell me, what exactly is an Ashen father? Are you one, is that why everyone is so on their toes with you?” She tilts her head curiously. “You hold a certain… Nobility about you. As if you do not belong here, yet you fit in perfectly.”

"So far you are surviving an encounter with me just fine.” He crosses his arms. “I try not to get into fights if I can help it. Though I am a member of the Fighter’s Guild, so take that with a grain of salt.”

His eyes flit down to watch her hands for a moment, taking note of the scar on her palm and then the vial around her neck. Sentimental things, he assumes.

“Parents can have wisdom we do not yet have. I am certain she has her reasons for what she says, even if those reasons are not a concern to you.”

The tiefling knew some people didn’t have very good relationships with their families. Some of his closest allies clearly had disowned their blood relatives in favor of found family. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it is a shame. By contrast, his family is everything to him and he can’t imagine not having their influence in his life.

He shifts his weight in his seat a bit. "The Ashen Fathers are the faceless masterminds of the Ash Lands. Count Mallock may be the official leader, but he is just a puppet. There are few businesses that do not have some connection to an Ashen Father, I would be surprised if this place was not the same."

When she asks about him, he thinks for a moment, carefully choosing his words.

"No, I am not. I am a dignitary though, so I have some notoriety."

Persephone watched Zarius closely, looking him up and down, almost hungrily. “You must have some… Very good stories.” She mewls, tilting her head. “My mother, albeit hesitantly, has given me permission to explore beyond the Ash lands, finally. Tell me, since it seems you’ve gone on many adventures… Where should I make some stops?” It was almost tentatively obvious that she was asking a subtle question; Where’s he been? But she leaned forward again. “Where are you going next?” She adds.

It was almost on cue, that the bar wench from before had hesitantly sauntered down the stairs, moving towards the two like a lamb approaching wolves. “M-ma’am…”

Slowly, Persie angles her head towards the girl. “Oh sweetheart…” She mewled. “What is it?”

“Y-your bath has been drawn….”

Persie smiles gently, reaching out and running her claw on the woman’s cheek. “Thank you, baby girl..” Persie removed her attention from the girl, and looks over at Zarius, smirking deviously. “Don’t suppose you’d care to join me?”

"Hm," he thinks for a moment. "Moonglade is quite different than here. The land there is beautiful and well worth the long journey."

"If you are looking for somewhere closer though, you may want to start with Zeinav City. It is chaotic but much more diverse in culture than Darkveil. I would definitely recommend not stabbing people there though," he says with a joking tone. "The Sultan's army does not take kindly to troublemakers."

While he had successfully given the local authorities the run around time and time again in Zeinav City, the Sultan's army is not an entity to take too lightly. The Sultan's own brother runs the military and is a very competent individual, to the point that many believe that he should be next in line for the throne within Zeinav. 

Zarius glances down at the surface of the table. "My work takes me across the whole continent. I will be in Darkveil for the next few days at least."

The woman was...not subtle. It was pretty clear what she was trying to do, though her motives for trying to get closer to the tiefling were still not completely transparent. She may be genuine in her interest, or just trying to get him alone so that her blade can find a new home in between his ribs. Either way, he wouldn't bite. He keeps cool and composed. This wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to get in his good graces.

"No, thank you. I do not think that would be wise."

Zarius has no interest in any intimate relationships at this time. He has hardly given it any thought over the years. He's too busy and lives a far too dangerous life to be involving others on a personal level. Though he has little personal life outside of work to begin with. Even now he is working, and there definitely is no time for any distractions.

Persie deflates a little, though she chose not to take it personally. “What, you think I’m gonna stab you?” She muses, smirking a little. “I was just looking for some fun!” Persie shakes her head. “If you change your mind just tell the girl.” She gestures over to the wench. Persie stands up, stopping for a minute, and turning to face Zarius, her hand out for a handshake.

“I really do hope this is not our last time meeting, though it is unfortunate I haven’t yet caught your name. Of course, that is your prerogative… And if we do ever meet again, well.. You’ll be very hard to forget.” She smirks on the last bit, adding a little wink.

After the exchange, she disappears upstairs.

"I am afraid that I simply do not have the time. Though I appreciate the offer." He stands up from the table. 

A few of the patrons turn away to avoid drawing any attention to themselves. 

"Ah, pardon my manners. My name is Zarius." He takes her hand and gives her a slight bow.

Even if he didn't trust the woman, he would keep up appearances and be polite. She likely was harmless. Well. No, not harmless. She just pinned a man's hand to the table with a kitchen knife. She had already proven she had...impulse control issues. 

He wouldn't be shocked if he heard of her getting into some big trouble down the road. The least he could do is keep tabs on her or direct her to others who could keep her out of too much danger. 

"Though I am not always there, you are welcome to drop by the Rookery if you ever need to reach me. There are people there I trust."

As she disappears upstairs, he pushes in his chair, leaves a few Solars for the barmaid, then heads out of the little tavern and down the street to meet back up with his employees.