Dark Corner ...the gathering

[The Grey Sentinel]

This will truly be an awkward band to bring together. …The wizard mused as he watched the half-ogre approach. Astaroth stood and reached out his aged hand as the huge being came near. “Welcome Coldstone, the wielder of Throng… I am Astaroth, wizard of Ironspur and your reputation precedes you my friend.” The wizard watched as his hand disappeared within the Ogre’s mighty grasp. “I must say though it is extensive, it still is no equal to your very presence, thank you for coming please have a seat.” As the two take their seats a couple of bar hands arrive with mutton and ale, they quickly place it on the table and depart.

 

[Nazrukh Darkfist]

The door opened and within its lintels stood Nazrukh Darkfist the great Barbarian of the Northlandz. Though dwarfed by the Ogre that had already entered the tavern, he was seen by most men as a generously proportioned human, though believed by some to have Orc blood flowing in his veins. As he moved toward the bar a close inspection would reveal a chain mail shirt over an animal hide tunic. High fur boots covered his feet while his head was completely bald accept for a long pony tail tied together with several leather straps and dangling just past his shoulder blades. A two handed sword was slung across his back securely fastened in a baldric.

 

[coldstone]

Fair speech for foul deeds. The point please, for I am weary with many miles. As he said this he ripped off a leg of the lamb and sunk his teeth into the flesh. All the while with his eyes on another dainty morsel. As the door swung open coldstone turns immediately, he recognizes his old friend. He smiles (A sight not fit for a sober man.) and holds out his hand to welcome his old friend.

 

[Nazrukh Darkfist]

a meeting of minds

Nazrukh promptly scanned the room with his eyes stopping on a friendly sight if not pretty. “Old Stoney! …well I’ll be the back side of a mule.” The Barbarian’s voice bellowed across the room. Upon arriving at the table he reached for the Ogre’s greasy hand and instinctively bypassed it to pat him on the shoulder. “Ah that’s okay pal, go on enjoy your mutton.” Nazrukh unbuckled the baldric and leaned it against the wall as he pulled out a chair and took a seat. “So… I guess you have been summoned also by the Grey Sentinel of Ironspur.”

 

[Theda the Thief]

Waiting for a fight that didn’t materialize, disappointedly Theda grabs her gear and drink and decides its time to meet the wizard. Ogre’s …just can’t figure them out, not ever. she mumbles as she moves toward the group not in the least bit intimidated by the two large males. “Good evening gents, Theda Bara at your service.” …she announces as she whips off her cloak and hangs it across a chair. As she sits you take notice of her slender figure all safely snug inside leather armor. Her weapons are plain to see as well, a finely detailed cup hilt rapier plus an Elven dagger tucked inside her belt across her midsection.

 

[JT Klasky]

Jeriseán downs his mead as the Ogre walks off. He is immediately surprised as a barbarian enters the tavern and just his luck, is an acquaintance of the beast. Bah! …by the gods how can it be? …it seems two on one not good odds, they might as well just sit on me to kill me. The warrior joins the troupe at the table, he nods to the wizard and the rogue ignoring the others. “Greetings m’lady and Astaroth, when I received word of your intended gathering I did not know it to be your intention that I’d toil with such folk as these.” Jeriseán eyes up the two… “But I will comply too your arrangement, Master of Ironspur.” He extends his hand to them… “I am Jeriseán Thrólith Kläskosa, sergeant of the guard at Nahoru Obsah, on extended leave at the moment to help an old friend.”

 

[Pintel]

...a fools errand

A sudden rise of laughter can be heard above the crowd as a figure adorned in fancy tailored clothing appears before the table. “You old fool! …Astaroth your sand has run out of your glass, your time has ended.” Pintel stands before you wearing a wide smirk. “And for the rest of you…Ha! …don’t be so easily deceived by this old conjurer.”

 

[Nazrukh Darkfist]

The Barbarian watches intently as the little lady walks right up and puts down at their table. “Nice dagger ya got there missy.” Is all Nazrukh could think to say as he nodded hello to the mysterious woman. His attention quickly shifted to the fighter as he approached. As he reached out his hand to greet the stranger he was still not sure if he was insulted or not. “Ah, well good to have ya lad, take a seat if ya wish.” Nazrukh was still looking over this sergeant of Nahoru Obsah when a hideous cackle sprung up behind him.

 

[coldstone]

Coldstone couldn't help but let out A chukle at the obserdity of the clothes of the loud fool. Since he himself hardly wore any. Suddenly he starts to choke, he dislodges it with a great cough, sraying roast mutton all over the new stanger. Everyone at the table laughs, except Asteroth.

 

[The Grey Sentinel]

Astaroth watched the mage's outburst and his disregard for manners, but deeper he thought why would Shadowhorn send a spy? The wizard let go his thoughts as Coldstone hacked up a bone. “Now look what you have done, you practically killed this fine Ogre here with your absurd interpretation of the times.” The wizard stood, revealing from under his robe a glowing orb that hung from his neck on an ornate chain of silver. “I believe your visit has ended here Pintel, begone before I have to embarrass you in front of these fine folk further then you already have yourself.”