OoC: Are you kidding? You did a great job with Lachyn. I've been incredibly impressed with how well the people in both my RPs have done—I'm a bit nervous using other people's characters, because I'm afraid it will seem awkward and unnatural, but you're great at it.
BiC:

Lachyn rolled his eyes. “I think that's been established, thanks,” he said, annoyed.

“Hush!” said the girl, a little sharply.

“He attacked--” the man said, clearly getting over his shock.

“You stole--”

“I didn't--”

“Quiet!”

Lachyn looked up at the young woman, almost alarmed. Her eyes were disconcerting, two under each lid, elliptical and flat. He looked away quickly.

“I clearly can't rely on you two to agree on an answer,” she said, disgusted. “Who saw what happened?”

“It was him,” Tabby said vehemently, pointing at the stranger.

“It wasn't!” protested Gergon. “It was young Master Lachyn pulled out his sword!”

“He was actively and willingly provoking--”

“I didn't--”

“The Medallion,” said Lachyn, suddenly inspired. “Let me see it.”

“I will not let you steal my medallion--”

“Steal it? It was stolen from me, if it's what I think it is, and if it is, then it should be destroyed!”

“Destroyed? Why should I let you destroy--”

Lachyn clenched his teeth and turned to plead with the young woman with her terrifying eyes. “Please, just—make him let me hold it. For only a minute, I swear, I just want to look at it!”

She frowned between the two of them.

“Let him see the pendant,” said Tabby. “That's what started the fight in the first place, let's see if it was all worth it.”

The young woman turned to the stranger with the Medallion. “Could I have it, just for a moment? If it makes you feel better, I can secure him to the table...”

More than a little reluctantly, the man handed over the Medallion. Lachyn didn't quite see what happened, but in a blur of white, he found his feet bound with sticky threads, and the girl used his sword to cut his hands free so he could take the Medallion.

He reached out to close his fingers around it. It was maybe as big as a large coin, heavy and cold in his hand. The iron shone just slightly in the light, and the symbols etched on its surface were far too familiar for comfort.

“I knew it,” he said furiously. “This is my sister's Medallion! I don't care that you stole it, you can keep it as far as I'm concerned. What I want to know is what happened to my sister?”

“I've never seen your sister in my life! That's a charm handed down in my family to increase fighting prowess! I'm a mercenary!”

There was a clunk as the Medallion fell to the floor. “What?” asked Lachyn, stunned.

“It's a talisman based on a famous medallion--”

“Based on a what?”

“A legend. It was buried before your time, I think, you won't have heard of it. Whoever possesses it was said to be the master of battle...are you alright?”

Despite the threads securing him to the floor, Lachyn couldn't stand. He reached back to use the table as support. His legs were weak under him and his arms were shaking violently; he knew without the need for a mirror that he'd gone pale, and his mouth had gone dry.

“What do you know about it?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“More than most. I've researched it...”

“Someone call a healer,” Lachyn called, his voice scratching in his throat like sand. “Hurry! He needs his strength.” To the man, he said, “I want to know all of it.”

“Why?”

“It's not a legend,” Lachyn whispered. “It's real.” He swallowed, and stared at the mock-up on the floor. “And my sister has it.”