Not the best Nostalgia [Sci]

To run a business in a time of war was to run a risk.

K knew this quite well, at this point: one of the few reasons that her inn still stood was that she remained as neutral as possible in this conflict. At times her guests were angels, and at times her guests were demons - but when she was busy, well, the stories that passed were always flavorful. With the skies darkening every day and a looming fight on the horizon, the Renamon was right to sure up her stores:

No later than five minutes after Silver had drawn from the well, would the sound of shrieking bats fill the air. At this point, this frightening sound would be nothing more than the foretelling of a rather familiar patron - a Myotismon, by the name of Wing. But this time, he didn't come alone: as the bell at the front of the door rang, the stately vampire would stand off to the side, letting in a pair of Musyamon, a single Sorcermon, and no less than six Impmon pouring into the front room.

"Hmhm. Pardon us for the short notice, madam." Wing gave a chuckle and a smirk, stepping right up to the front desk, leaning over the counter with a weighted elbow. As always, he offered a single flower to the Renamon, a warm nod given straight to the innkeeper. "It turns out they needed my own mercenary group this time - though I must say, is it good to see you're still here, darling? Tell you the truth, half of us thought we'd simply have an empty building to make as our last pit-stop before the front line."

That aside, he gave a smile. "I trust my boys are welcome?" Flirty as his tone may have been, that was a very thinly veiled threat at the end.

"Heh. A charmer as always, you are."

The Myotismon gave a smile as the Renamon took the flower in hand, and in that familiar ritual, placed it neatly in a water-filled vase. Should any have kept, the fox might have had enough for a rich, dried bouquet. As the vampire spoke, the rest of the group had already made their way in, sitting themselves down around several tables. Very quickly, the once quiet inn filled with boisterous chatter, several braggart tones and immature gestures shared between the Impmon and one of the Musyamon. The Sorcermon kept to his own table, idly reading the menu, while the second Musyamon had taken it upon himself to bury his face deep in the menu.

"Heh. If you're not on the front, guess its good to have a place to keep your head down - but alas, you're the only place active for miles. Bark Town's completely cleared itself out, and if I had to guess... well, hun, you're only about eight miles off of the action." He gave a chuckle, as if not concerned with that fact in the slightest!

And of course, K played right along, at the very least 'acting' like the gracious innkeeper to this 'merry band'. "Mm, to tell you the truth, the lot's only here so I can be hired. Skilled as I may be, the Captains are demanding larger groups to shore up the sides... ah, but I'm boring you." Whether he was or not, the vampire would reach into his sleeve, pulling out a small bag, as that last question graced his ears.

"That depends, are you willing to humor spending the night with me?" The comment was said at least half earnestly, silence held just long enough as he'd give his actual answer: "But yes, we'll be here through tomorrow or when the Captains call. Now..."

Reaching into that coin purse, the Myotismon drew three coins, solid gold with the print of a Rosemon atop the surface. In times of war like this, paper currency and bills held little purpose - he'd rest the coins on a small 'tipping' scale on the counter, allowing the Renamon to get a proper measure of their weight. "I'm sure this will suffice with the lot?"

Indeed, the Renamon wasn't looking at an easy group here - most of them would have an order in due time, and the entire group would be rambunctious and rowdy. Even after they would all turn in for the night, both K and her help would likely have two or three hours of cleaning, just to try and bring this place back to a respectable state.

"Mm, and its threatening to slip even closer. With the town empty, I wouldn't be surprised to see it off the map in due time - whatever they left behind is just provisions for the war, after all. That includes every nail and board." The Myotismon gave a chuckle, half-teasing the Renamon with the idea that her inn might end up in the same state, should she not be here to keep a close eye on it.

Of course, as the Renamon had done several times before, she turned Wing down. It was to the point where he just gave the traditional 'tut' and laughed it off. Of course, one of those three coins was enough for the entire group, and with that bit on the top, their safety was secured. Her okay was given, and Wing turned to the 'merry band':

"Order as you will, men! Rest up, be full and merry, for tomorrow we head off into the front!" The group responded with their various hurrahs, and soon enough, the calls would come from around the inn:

"Hey, over here!"

"Two shots of Devi-Bomb!"

"Bring on the mead!"

And for a while, the room would be rambunctious, busy, and taxing. Silver would likely be dragged right along in this, for those first couple of hours... but no sooner than that, did something loom over the horizon:

The sound of a heavy bell. The calling sign for a march of angels. At first it was muted, but it slowly picked up - Wing, sitting across from the Sorcermon, gave a 'tch', looking to the innkeep: "If I have the Wizard here restore the front room, think you can keep hush, you two?" The Impmon and the rest, aside from Wing and the Sorcermon, already started to scurry towards the back...

"Ah, we'll leave it to you, hun."

The Myotismon gave a smirk, a solid pat given on the Renamon's shoulder as he moved on towards the back. The Sorcermon, silent even now, simply stood up and raised his staff. The chairs were quickly set into place, and at the very least, the few broken glasses scattered about the floor were neatly deposited away in the bin. With the 'structure' of the room left orderly, he tilted his hat, and moved off to the back...

... Which left K and Silver a good six or so minutes to get this front room into shape. The incense would do a decent enough job of hiding away the scent of food, and with just a little bit of creativity, the two might manage to clean up just in time. Though, their new guests would have much less 'respect' than her current patrons.

At once, the front door would whip open, a fierce armored hand almost managing to tear it right off of its hinges. The bell above rang once, before snapping right at the cord, clattering uselessly against the ground, a MagnaAngemon stepping boldly into the room.

"My, my... certainly such force isn't necessary in this establishment, sir?" With a chuckle, the sole Digimon accompanying the angel - a Wisemon - gave that simple remark as he floated on in. The angel seemed to ignore the comment, instead taking a brief look around the room. Incense in the air, at least one of these foxes looking like they were out of breath...

Yeah, that seemed about right. "Well?" His gaze leveled right on the innkeeper. "Where are they?"

What was this scene they were trying to set?

Despite the obvious disheveled state of the front room, the innkeeper acted calm, as if she had nothing to hide or be worried about - while her assistant visibly cowered at the sight of the two. The MagnaAngemon gave a moment of pause, looking over his shoulder to the Wisemon with a nod. The cloaked Digimon gave a nod back, and soon stepped off - to that same booth that Silver sat at, sitting across from the help.

"First week on the job, lad? Strange to see an able-bodied one like yourself still tread the sidelines." Even with the angel's intensity, the Wisemon somehow still managed a somewhat kind, playful tone: he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk, idly examining the fox in front of him. "But I guess not all of us are up to that level of grit... making up funds for your family, then?"

"Hmph." He'd leave the sorcerer with that angle - but as K pressed for information, the MagnaAngemon stared right back down, a glare hidden behind his visor. "Oh? I've been following a trail of blood and agony trying to track down some damn Myotismon and his flunkies. A trail that somehow led cold out in these woods, one inn in sight to take shelter for the night, to not risk the forest beasts..."

His tone leveled, as he rested his palms against the desk, staring eye to eye with the fox.

"You're saying you know nothing?"

"Turned ya away, eh? Guess you couldn't cut it as anything higher than a Renamon, then." The Wisemon's tone was still rather casual, warmly speaking to the help in a rather informal fashion. He worked for his sister and his mother, while his father fought in the war? "Mm, we have many a skilled fox in our ranks, so I can't say if I've seen any bit of him. Though he fights with the valiant light in his heart, so he's at least with our hearts, right?"

That was all well-and-good, but the innkeeper was still playing evasive. Not a single word - in fact, a simple declaration that she wouldn't have told them anything, even if they did know. The MagnaAngemon grit his teeth, idly tensing his hands into fists. She even spoke of some half-going-along-with the requirements - but what would wanted posters do if people were already suspicious of the building?

But it seemed that words weren't going to get them anywhere. With a sigh, the angel shook his head. "That's how it is, then?"

"Oh, if we're talking about posters..." The Wisemon muttered, pulling a heavy tome out of his cloak. "My, sorry about the size, been quite the affair so far. But if you could just look through these last few pages for me, and tell me if anything's familiar?"

The Wisemon's tone seemed innocent enough - but if Silver agreed, and the Renamon broke open that bind to pull the book open, he'd feel a harsh torrent of wind - trying to pull him right into the pages of the tome itself!

All it took was an instant - as soon as Silver opened that tome, even moving to peer over the pages, he was simply pulled right into the book, its blank pages starting to be scrawled with a sudden movement of ink. Plucking the tome from the table, the Wisemon snapped the book shut, once more bringing his binding around the cover:

"So sorry, there, kid, but that's the breaks."

Of course, the innkeeper was angry, a brief flash of foxfire in her eyes as she stood, almost defiant of the MagnaAngemon before him. The angel didn't flinch, knowing that what the Wisemon had done to the assistant. "Hm. I'm sure you understand by now, innkeeper. My aide has your subject's life in his hands - that much is clear already."

So what was his point? He leaned down over the table, staring to the fox: "And all he has to do is read those pages, to know exactly what's gone on here in the last few hours. So answer carefully: if you say they aren't here, and the book says the same, we'll let you both go, nice and easy. If you fess up and say they are here, we'll simply make our way back - but keep your help as 'payment' for your delay."

And of course, the third: "But if you say the Myotismon isn't here, and he is? You can go ahead and join your 'help' as another chapter. What will it be?"