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Shackled City - Chapter I
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<blockquote data-quote="hippocrachus" data-source="post: 1663186" data-attributes="member: 14148"><p><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Will you just come on?" </span> the sodden bard asked his mule in a tone that suggested patience was not a virtue and in fact a derivative of convenience.</p><p>The animal, equally wet and equally headstrong about its own opinions of virtues, stared back with a look of languid ignorance.</p><p><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Fine!"</span> he said with a wave of his hand and quick turn of his heel. <span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Don't complain to me when the wolves come biting at your hooves..."</span></p><p>He approached the city's Eastern gate and hailed the guards to let him in, trying to gain as much shelter from the rain as possible from the porticos of the gatehouse. He identified himself as a weather-beaten traveler. His purpose: <span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Just passing through."</span></p><p>As he prepared to enter the walls of Cauldron he felt a familiar nudge at the small of his back.</p><p><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"I guess you think I'm just gonna let you come with me now, huh?"</span> he asked without looking back. He was answered with a sardonic snort from a well-muscled nose that's had a lot of practice.</p><p>The two travelers made their way through the maze-like streets until they reached a tavern by the name of The Drunken Morkoth Inn. Phoebus, the mule, was sent around back to be kept in the stable, along with the usual stabling fees.</p><p>Phoebus was a veteran. He knew how to pay.</p><p>The taller of the two entered the common room and sat down at the bar with an air of one who's really good at making himself conspicuous.</p><p><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Let's have a drink, barkeep,"</span> he said to the person providing such services.</p><p>As the musician waited for his ale he gave the Inn a smug once-over and unstrapped his lyre from his back to dry it off with the inside of his cloak.</p><p>He plucked a few notes idly.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="hippocrachus, post: 1663186, member: 14148"] [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"Will you just come on?" [/COLOR] the sodden bard asked his mule in a tone that suggested patience was not a virtue and in fact a derivative of convenience. The animal, equally wet and equally headstrong about its own opinions of virtues, stared back with a look of languid ignorance. [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"Fine!"[/COLOR] he said with a wave of his hand and quick turn of his heel. [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"Don't complain to me when the wolves come biting at your hooves..."[/COLOR] He approached the city's Eastern gate and hailed the guards to let him in, trying to gain as much shelter from the rain as possible from the porticos of the gatehouse. He identified himself as a weather-beaten traveler. His purpose: [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"Just passing through."[/COLOR] As he prepared to enter the walls of Cauldron he felt a familiar nudge at the small of his back. [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"I guess you think I'm just gonna let you come with me now, huh?"[/COLOR] he asked without looking back. He was answered with a sardonic snort from a well-muscled nose that's had a lot of practice. The two travelers made their way through the maze-like streets until they reached a tavern by the name of The Drunken Morkoth Inn. Phoebus, the mule, was sent around back to be kept in the stable, along with the usual stabling fees. Phoebus was a veteran. He knew how to pay. The taller of the two entered the common room and sat down at the bar with an air of one who's really good at making himself conspicuous. [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]"Let's have a drink, barkeep,"[/COLOR] he said to the person providing such services. As the musician waited for his ale he gave the Inn a smug once-over and unstrapped his lyre from his back to dry it off with the inside of his cloak. He plucked a few notes idly. [/QUOTE]
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