Exton

Keon is so glad the plants arrived. The troop's leader stands on his shoulder watching as the plants are placed in strategic, albeit decorous, arraingements.

"Harvest Festival in a BAR? What next, Dark Lord? May Day orgy on the stage?" His wings buzz, fanning black strands of Keon's hair. "Dis better be worth our time, ol man."

A pot of wild thyme is placed on the bar and the fae's eyes light up. His wings speed up and he darts to the plant.

"HOLD Lord Truant!"

The fae stops in midair, glaring at Keon.

"That plant is designated for the warrior, Raina. It is not for habitation unless she agrees." Keon grins. "Her lover is a Vampyre, Dragonfly Lord. Not sure I would want to be in her bedroom, unless invited, during their... passion."

He hides a grin as the Fae blanches. His wings stall and he dips, only catching himself with an effort. "Vam... pyre..." The fae flits back to hover in front of Keon. Gone is the arrogance, replaced by a wariness. "Just what are we watching, Keon. What exactly IS dis place?"

"Never mind all that, Truant. The mission at hand has to do with a flame-haired Unseelie using the name Morgan, and her... toy... Gareth. Said person, Gareth, is a Seelie Lord being held against his will, he claims, by the incarceration of his close mate. She has an interest in the breeding women here, and is suspected of stealing children."

The fae gasps and his wings blur with his anger.

"I want a plant near dis bitch's table, Keon."

Keon shakes his head, raising the fury in the small man.

"What? You don' want me messin' her game?"

Keon shakes his head again, his lips drawn into a grim line. "No, Truant. I want her game ended. These are good people here. This is a Haven for our kind as well." He pauses, letting Truant digest that. "She changes tables every time she comes in. There is no way to tell where she will sit."

The fae rises to the ceiling, flitting about in anger. Suddenly he dives straight for Keon's shoulder. Grabbing a handful of hair, he swings himself to a stop, plopping down on the broad shoulder. "Got an idea." he points straight up. "Swags, autumnal leaves, then blending in with pine and holly to take it into the Yule season."

Truant darts out of the back door to the delivery truck, finding swags designated for another customer. He darts back and hashes out his idea with Keon. In moments several swags are ordered for the Tavern, promised to be delivered before opening.

Keon watches Pandora walk past him. "A moment M'Lady Pandora." When she stops at his side, Keon lifts a lock of her hair. "No offense, fair lady, but who did this?" He spies a pretty fae placing a gemstone in a pot near the door. Truant whistles and her head jerks up. She flies slowly to their presence.

Keon pulls out a chair and asks Pandora to sit. He taps the table top and Rachal drops to it, standing head bowed and wings drooping. She peeks a look at Truant's scowling face. Keon lifts a lock of Pandora's hair, measuring the growth.

"So much growth will be noticed, Little One. What is the rule when being among mortals? Especially when on a mission?"

She looks at the tabletop. "Stay out of sight. Do not draw attention." She looks up at Keon. "Dark Lord? The aura of the spell will be seen, won't it?" Keon nods. "We watch on of the Fae?" Keon nods again. She suddenly smiles. "I can fix this!"

Truant grabs her wrist before Rachal can move. "NO! We do NOT fix dis! We work wit it." He looks up at Keon and Pandora, a wicked grin replacing the scowl. "Rachal can help protect da Witch by being seen. I bet we can find her sumthin ta do..."