The “End of Eternity” was the name of the most famous tavern in Oniford. Tonight was no different for Zach as he sat in the corner sipping his drink. He sat and watched people as they talked and enjoyed the warmth of both food and company. He wasn’t one for company himself, earning him his nickname as the “Drunken One”, though some liked to add lonely in front of that title. Much like a lot of the rumors around him it was a pretty empty one, as even the drink he had was nonalcoholic, as it was every night. Alcohol had long lost an appeal with his “condition” and he enjoyed the solidarity of his corner, much more of a listener than a talker. So sitting in the corner, enjoying a refreshing drink and listening to the myriad of stories, rumors, and tales told by the other patrons was more than enough for him.

Of course the moment that thought of appreciation crossed his mind is when she entered the tavern. She looked young, maybe late 20’s, and was of average height for women, around 6’2, with lightly tanned skin. Her hair, that reached the middle of her back, shifted between various hues of purple, black and blue like a cascade of the evening night. Many would describe her face as more cute than anything else, with a button nose and emerald eyes and slit pupils like a cat searching for prey. Her mouth was drawn in a line as she searched the tavern, though the full lips made it look less stern and more perturbed, then she was. She had a sensual aura around her, making her stand out as exotic even in the taverns already unique crowd. She wasn’t alone either, followed by a young well-muscled man with short blonde hair and another young lady who would almost seem to be a twin, though her eyes were purple and her hair shades of green, instead.

The three stood for a moment in the entrance before heading towards the bar, all three continuously scanning the crowd as they went. Their appearance had caused the tavern to quiet a little, though as they moved things picked back up. A few whispers on who or what they may be crossed the lips of some, but most just ignored them and continued on with their conversations. When they reached the bar the women with emerald eyes seemed to take the lead, asking the bartender a few quick questions. After receiving an answer she glanced at the far corner, where Zach sat, before quickly looking back, seemingly agitated with the answer given to her. The two with her also glanced towards Zach, the young man showing a brief look of scorn before looking away. The young women on the other hand stared a little more, making contact with Zach’s eyes, before she quickly turned away.

She tugged on the back of the first women’s shirt, whispering something into her ear, before looking back at Zach. The first women looked once more at Zach, before sighing and leading the three over towards his table. This once more caused a reaction in the tavern, as usually those who visit him were already unique and left new rumors to spread. Zach seemingly ignored the talk of the other patrons, his gaze watching the band on stage before drifting to his drink. When they arrived at the table, Zach looked up at them, giving them a once over before nodding his head in greeting.

“May I help you with something?” he asked them. Those patrons around stared at him though, as the language was that of demons, one thought nearly impossible to learn unless you were a demon.

The two women stared, the younger one mouth ajar.

“You…you can speak Dement,” said the young man, staring at Zach as if he had sprouted a new head.

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“I can speak more than just Dement, youngling,” Zach answered, now speaking in a more guttural and hissing language.

The young man stared at Zach, his arm involuntarily twitching towards his blade on his hip. Even a few of the more reptilian patrons jerked when they heard him, as if something was bearing down on them like a weight.

“Tell me who you are or I will run my blade through you,” the older woman said, her hand now resting on her blade openly.

“Who I am matters little, young Succubus, but know that any acts of aggression will be met in kind,” Zach replied, once more slipping into Dement as naturally as a fish in water.

Her grip tightened on the handle before slowly releasing it. She did not noticed that a few patrons around her had also relaxed, though the younger woman most certainly took notice. She looked again at the short man in front of her, studying him as if looking at a research sample.

“Sit young ones, speak your thoughts. If you stand before me then it is obvious you have been directed here,” Zach spoke, gesturing to the three seats around the table. The two women slowly began to sit, but the young man stared at his chair, knowing just moments before it did not exist there. He looked up at Zach, a cold sweat slowly dripping down his back.

As the young blonde sat, the younger woman spoke up. “Why do you call us young ones? And why do you only speak to us in Dement?”

“Though I may not look it I am much older than you would think. And as for speaking I always try and convers in the language I feel a future client would be more comfortable in,” Zach answered, sipping from his mug as he did. “It is also a way for me to keep things private, as many of my clients prefer are here for reasons they do not like others knowing.”

“Now please, if I may know your names, we can cut to the matter of why you have come.”

The older woman looked at the other two before replying, slipping into Dement herself.

“My name is Raven, the woman next to me is Elzmerald, and the young man…”

“I go by Zord,” he spoke, in the guttural tongue. “But more importantly how did you know what I was.”

“Though many may not be able to see, I have been around your kind to know what a Dracoling looks like in their polymorph state,” Zach answered, smiling lightly at the young Dracoling. Once again a subtle pressure accompanied his words, one that only seemed to affect the reptilian races around the tavern. Most turned to look at him, a chill running down their spine as they heard him speak, as if some monster predator was watching their every move. Even Zord could not help but grab the handle of his blade this time as the primal fear of fight or flight took his nerves.

Zach’s smile widened just a tad before he glanced back at the two women, who were confused at what was going on. He took the chance to once more look at them, noticing they truly looked like twins with minor differences between them. Raven with her dark hair was more firm, more toned, the obvious traces of a fighter in her posture and demeanor. Her body had a few scars, though that did not take away from the seemingly ethereal attraction that surrounded her. Elzmerald was softer by comparison, her body a little more feminine, and filled in more in both the chest and hips. Her face seemed more relaxed, but Zach noticed a glint in her eyes as she kept watch on what was around her. Zord on the other hand was well built, scars crisscrossing his body. Parts of his body, such as near his wrists, slightly glinted in the light, scales near invisible unless you knew where to look. His sharp grey eyes held a look of seeing many battles and his face seemed to have a permanent scowl placed on it.

“You all may call me Zach,” their eyes all returning to him as he spoke, “Now please do tell me what brought you to me.”