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Siege Of Bordrin's Watch
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<blockquote data-quote="DEFCON 1" data-source="post: 4798963" data-attributes="member: 7006"><p>Krunk, the hobgoblin tavern owner, watches with half an eye as the human shadow Michelle, the collared elven female Gala, and finally the tattooed and scarred halfork Gloomblade, each make their goodbyes. Shortly after, the dwarf woman named Sister Tresa walks in... and Krunk is very surprised. He hasn't seen her in this part of the city in quite a long time. <span style="color: olive">"Evenin' sister. Odd night to see you about. And odder still the place where I see you."</span> He motions for Sessie to get the priestess whatever drink she requires.</p><p></p><p>**********</p><p></p><p>Gloomblade stands by the city guardsman he spoke to, listening to the directions on how to get to Stone Anvil... and takes little notice of the small band of young men emerging from the darkness of the city street. <span style="color: Pink">"That him?"</span> one says to the others, to which another replies <span style="color: Plum">"Yeah... halfork. He's the one who rolled us."</span> <span style="color: Pink">"Then it's time to roll 'em back."</span> Unfortunately for Gloomblade, the phrase 'they all look alike' is turning into a really big problem.</p><p></p><p>**********</p><p></p><p>The actual halfork of mention, Chris, still remains within the Salty Mug. He downs another ale and he and Ralak-Nul speak to each other about their journeys and the problems that their respective races cause them. In the occasional city dominated by dwarf or human... a halfork and a drow are not usually embraced without question. It takes a while.</p><p></p><p>As the two converse, and are overheard by Tresa... the sounds of shouting are heard outside. The clang of metal on metal soon is joined, as well as the piercing whistle of a guardsman's alarm. Chris, Ralak-Nul, Tresa, and Krunk all catch each other's eyes. Something's going on out there... and Krunk winces at the thought of it. <em><span style="color: Olive">I guess Michelle didn't get a chance to talk to her boys...</span></em></p><p></p><p>**********</p><p></p><p>Dorn Thirae steps down from his box in the holding cells, right after his speech. Once again, his silver tongue has strengthened the support of many of the hoodlums and vagabonds incarcerated in here with him. As many of them come up one by one to shake his hand and pledge their support in anything further he might do... the half-elf thinks back to a similar situation six long months ago in the city of Brindol on the far side of the Elsir Vale...</p><p></p><p>**********</p><p></p><p><em>Six months ago...</em></p><p></p><p><span style="color: SandyBrown">"What should we do with 'im?"</span> asks a dirty, greasy, wild-eyed halfling. <span style="color: sandybrown">"Messed with Speaker's business this guy did. Can't do that."</span> <span style="color: Orange">"No, he damn well can't."</span> says a dour dwarf standing next to the halfling. Both men stand over a prone form lying in an alley. A halfork wanderer, who unfortunately made the wrong statement to the wrong individual while the man was delivering a speech. And when the man's followers took umbrage to the wanderer's decry... all hell broke loose. <span style="color: orange">"You don't interrupt The Speaker and expect to get away with it... not unless you're a moron."</span></p><p></p><p>As they stand over the unconscious halfork, the halfling gets an idea. <span style="color: SandyBrown">"Let's mark 'im! Mark 'im with the symbol o' the bastard Lost Ones... then drop him off at the Sarge. Sarge'll send him to Sub Saan if we tell 'im The Speaker said to. Heh heh... man, I'd love to see this guy's face when he wakes up in a cell and find 'imself marked... then he runs inta one of the real Losties who thinks he's trying to pass himself off as one of 'im. Heh heh... that'd do it."</span> The dwarf nods and his grin grows wide. <span style="color: Orange">"Great idea! Yeah! Let's do that! Damn... wait'll the Speaker hears what we done for him. You don't interrupt the Speaker, man... that's just not done."</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="DEFCON 1, post: 4798963, member: 7006"] Krunk, the hobgoblin tavern owner, watches with half an eye as the human shadow Michelle, the collared elven female Gala, and finally the tattooed and scarred halfork Gloomblade, each make their goodbyes. Shortly after, the dwarf woman named Sister Tresa walks in... and Krunk is very surprised. He hasn't seen her in this part of the city in quite a long time. [COLOR="olive"]"Evenin' sister. Odd night to see you about. And odder still the place where I see you."[/COLOR] He motions for Sessie to get the priestess whatever drink she requires. ********** Gloomblade stands by the city guardsman he spoke to, listening to the directions on how to get to Stone Anvil... and takes little notice of the small band of young men emerging from the darkness of the city street. [COLOR="Pink"]"That him?"[/COLOR] one says to the others, to which another replies [COLOR="Plum"]"Yeah... halfork. He's the one who rolled us."[/COLOR] [COLOR="Pink"]"Then it's time to roll 'em back."[/COLOR] Unfortunately for Gloomblade, the phrase 'they all look alike' is turning into a really big problem. ********** The actual halfork of mention, Chris, still remains within the Salty Mug. He downs another ale and he and Ralak-Nul speak to each other about their journeys and the problems that their respective races cause them. In the occasional city dominated by dwarf or human... a halfork and a drow are not usually embraced without question. It takes a while. As the two converse, and are overheard by Tresa... the sounds of shouting are heard outside. The clang of metal on metal soon is joined, as well as the piercing whistle of a guardsman's alarm. Chris, Ralak-Nul, Tresa, and Krunk all catch each other's eyes. Something's going on out there... and Krunk winces at the thought of it. [I][COLOR="Olive"]I guess Michelle didn't get a chance to talk to her boys...[/COLOR][/I] ********** Dorn Thirae steps down from his box in the holding cells, right after his speech. Once again, his silver tongue has strengthened the support of many of the hoodlums and vagabonds incarcerated in here with him. As many of them come up one by one to shake his hand and pledge their support in anything further he might do... the half-elf thinks back to a similar situation six long months ago in the city of Brindol on the far side of the Elsir Vale... ********** [I]Six months ago...[/I] [COLOR="SandyBrown"]"What should we do with 'im?"[/COLOR] asks a dirty, greasy, wild-eyed halfling. [COLOR="sandybrown"]"Messed with Speaker's business this guy did. Can't do that."[/COLOR] [COLOR="Orange"]"No, he damn well can't."[/COLOR] says a dour dwarf standing next to the halfling. Both men stand over a prone form lying in an alley. A halfork wanderer, who unfortunately made the wrong statement to the wrong individual while the man was delivering a speech. And when the man's followers took umbrage to the wanderer's decry... all hell broke loose. [COLOR="orange"]"You don't interrupt The Speaker and expect to get away with it... not unless you're a moron."[/COLOR] As they stand over the unconscious halfork, the halfling gets an idea. [COLOR="SandyBrown"]"Let's mark 'im! Mark 'im with the symbol o' the bastard Lost Ones... then drop him off at the Sarge. Sarge'll send him to Sub Saan if we tell 'im The Speaker said to. Heh heh... man, I'd love to see this guy's face when he wakes up in a cell and find 'imself marked... then he runs inta one of the real Losties who thinks he's trying to pass himself off as one of 'im. Heh heh... that'd do it."[/COLOR] The dwarf nods and his grin grows wide. [COLOR="Orange"]"Great idea! Yeah! Let's do that! Damn... wait'll the Speaker hears what we done for him. You don't interrupt the Speaker, man... that's just not done."[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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