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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 428149" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>[PLAIN][Realms #185] Get Yer Meat Pies Here![/PLAIN]</strong></p><p></p><p>The Battleguard was performing his burial rites over the bodies while the Janissary and her warrior Companion stood a respectful distance away standing a silent vigil. Suddenly, Ledare cocked her head toward the stairs. "Did you hear something?" she asked Draelond in a hushed whisper.</p><p></p><p>The man nodded and bent to the Janissary's ear. "It sounds like voices," he said softly so as to not disrupt the spiritual ceremony. "I'll check it out."</p><p></p><p>He turned to go and Ledare drew her sword. "I'm going too," she told him and Ruze's chanting stopped abruptly.</p><p></p><p>"Why don't we all go," he said wiping his palms against one another. "I'm all through here."</p><p></p><p>"That's it?" the Janissary asked. "All of Soriah's ceremonies always took quite a long time."</p><p></p><p>"What can I say?" he shrugged. "I'm not Soriah."</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>"Let's hide!" Finian suggested and Kirnoth nodded. They both rushed to dive behind the counter.</p><p></p><p>"Wait a minute," Kirnoth hissed, laying a hand on the Archer's forearm. "What are we hiding from? He can't see us through the door."</p><p></p><p>"Come on, Mom!" the voice shouted. "I can 'ere ye movin' about in there. Open up!"</p><p></p><p>"My guess is this person calling for Mom is innocent and has no idea of the ingredients," Kirnoth told his Companion, his voice barely audible, even to the half-elf. "Finian, why don't you use the slippers to get a look at who is at the door without them seeing you."</p><p></p><p>"Good idea," Finian said.</p><p></p><p>"Why don't we just let him in and act like we are here wondering where Mom is too?" Ruze asked as he and Ledare and Draelond filed into the dining room.</p><p></p><p>Ledare nodded. "I like that plan too," she said. "Let's pretend we are here for the meat pies."</p><p></p><p>"Wait one minute, sir!" Ruze called out brightly toward the door.</p><p></p><p>"Well, it's abou' ferkin' time," they heard the man on the other side of the door grumble.</p><p></p><p>Draelond flexed his muscles and pressed his left fist into the palm of his right hand. "I could have a little... um... let's call it... 'discussion' with him to see what he knows about 'Mom' and the whole operation," the man suggested. There was little doubt that noone would be able to resist Draelond's 'debating skills' for very long.</p><p></p><p>"How about we try it the non-violent way first," Ledare suggested and slipped her sword into its sheath. "Then if it looks like it is going nowhere, you can take over with your muscle?"</p><p></p><p>Draelond looked down on her and his eyes fell on the Janissary symbol that clasped her maroon cloak around her neck. "Okay," he nodded. "But he'd better talk fast."</p><p></p><p>Finian took up the stout bar that held the two doors shut and before he could do anything more, a hand on the rightmost door pushed it open, flooding the dim-lit interior of the shop with light from the street outside. A nondescript fellow of medium height and tawny-colored hair walked in immediately.</p><p></p><p>"What took ye so lo-" he stopped short as his eyes moved over the assemblage. "Who inna nine hell's is you?" he asked, taking a half-step back toward the open doorway. Finian stepped up behind him and blocked the door.</p><p></p><p>"We're just here for the meat pies," Ruze said with a broad smile.</p><p></p><p>"O-oh," the man replied. From the expression on his face it seemed that he was trying hard to convince himself that that was the group's purpose. "Ye mean yer temp'rary 'elp, like me an' Simon."</p><p></p><p>"Simon?" Ledare asked.</p><p></p><p>The man jacked a nervous thumb toward the street. "My mate," the man said. "He work's the cart while I brings 'em in."</p><p></p><p>"Bring them in?" Ruze asked. "Bring who in?"</p><p></p><p>The man licked his lips and a false rubbery smile moved twitchily across his mouth. His eyes shifted uncomfortably from Companion to Companion. He was beginning to sweat. "Why customers, a course," he said and then he cupped a hand around his mouth and bellowed, "MEEEAAAT PIIIEES!!!! GETCHA MEAT PIES 'ERE!!!"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, of course," Ledare said with a diplomatic smile. "How many do you need?"</p><p></p><p>"Why alls ye got," he said, clapping his callused hands together. "It was a right reg'lar stroke a genius sellin' the pies at the festival! I kinna keep the cart stocked! None of us can!" He fumbled under his tunic and hands went instinctively to weapons. The man stopped and drew his hands slowly out from under his shirt. Sweat was now beading on his upper lip and forehead. He took another step back and bumped into Finian.</p><p></p><p>"Say!" the man protested. "Wha' is all this? Where's Mom?"</p><p></p><p>"Mother had to step out for some... ingredients," Ledare began and the man turned quickly to duck out past the Archer and slip into the street.</p><p></p><p>Finian was able to block him long enough for Draelond to step forward and latch two hands on the man - one around his neck and the other in the waistband of his trousers. The warrior hauled him backward into the restaurant and Finian slammed shut the door. The bar fell into place with a THUNK of finality. "Oh, sweet Flor," the man was gibbering as Draelond reeled him around. "Have mercy! Mercy!"</p><p></p><p>"Did you show mercy to those poor folk downstairs?" Draelond growled. He clamped his hands around the man's torso, one under each arm, and lifted him bodily off the ground.</p><p></p><p>"I've got wha' money we've made so far t'day!" the man whimpered as he fumbled under his tunic for the bulging coin purse he had strapped there. He tossed it to the floorboards where it landed with a loud ka-chink. "Take it! Take it! Jus' dinna kill me!"</p><p></p><p>Ledare and Ruze stepped up on either side of Draelond.</p><p></p><p>"I don't think he knows anything," the Battlegaurd said and Ledare nodded.</p><p></p><p>"Has Mother shared with you the extra special recipe?" she asked the sweaty man.</p><p></p><p>"O' course not!" the man choked out. "I was only hired on Waterday. An' only to sell th' pies at Kakadiador. Nothin' more!"</p><p></p><p>"He's lying," Draelond suggested and lifted the man a little higher into the air.</p><p></p><p>"I ain't lying'!" he squirmed. "My real job's at the' Bellman's Guild! I'm a crier! Please, with Ibrahil as my witness, I ain't lyin'!"</p><p></p><p>Draelond lowered the man roughly to the floor and he collapsed into a heap there, clutching his ribs where the warrior's hands had been. Ledare squatted down beside him. "Where are all the meat pies going?" she asked.</p><p></p><p>"To the festival," the man moaned. "There's prolly a half dozen carts out there sellin' the pies. We come back 'ere to get more when we runs out."</p><p></p><p>"And who meets you here?" the Janissary pressed.</p><p></p><p>"Mom was 'ere this mornin'," he told her. "She an' 'er oldest both."</p><p></p><p>"Nunzio?" Ruze asked and the man nodded.</p><p></p><p>"That's the one," he said. "Great fat fella, him."</p><p></p><p>"And you say, he's the oldest?" the Battleguard went on.</p><p></p><p>"Ayuh," the man replied. "There's five of 'em altogether. All boys, an' the fat one's the' oldest."</p><p></p><p>Ledare stood back up. "That still doesn't tell us where Mother got to and what this is all about," she said. "I can't believe this is just a lucrative business endeavor."</p><p></p><p>"I wonder if there's some sort of a taint on the people who eat the meat pies even if they don't do it knowingly," Kirnoth suggested. "So when the time comes those people won't count on the side of good. Or something."</p><p></p><p>"That is a very interesting suggestion, Kirnoth," Ledare said with a nod. She looked back down at the man on the ground. "Have you noticed anything different about the people who ate the pies you were selling?"</p><p></p><p>The man shook his head but said nothing.</p><p></p><p>"I do not so much think that eating the pies makes them evil, but could make people sick and kill them," Finian offered.</p><p></p><p>"Mom's pies?" the man asked with a look of confusion. "Not likely. I've been eatin' pies from this 'ere shop fer years an' nothin's ever happened to me."</p><p></p><p>The man's gaze suddenly fixed on some distant point and he looked even more confused suddenly. "But I did 'ear Mom mention that she'd whipped up a right special batch of pies for sale at the festival," the man told them as the memories slowly resurfaced. "Fit to herald the birth of a king, she said, whatever that means."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 428149, member: 2323"] [b][PLAIN][Realms #185] Get Yer Meat Pies Here![/PLAIN][/b] The Battleguard was performing his burial rites over the bodies while the Janissary and her warrior Companion stood a respectful distance away standing a silent vigil. Suddenly, Ledare cocked her head toward the stairs. "Did you hear something?" she asked Draelond in a hushed whisper. The man nodded and bent to the Janissary's ear. "It sounds like voices," he said softly so as to not disrupt the spiritual ceremony. "I'll check it out." He turned to go and Ledare drew her sword. "I'm going too," she told him and Ruze's chanting stopped abruptly. "Why don't we all go," he said wiping his palms against one another. "I'm all through here." "That's it?" the Janissary asked. "All of Soriah's ceremonies always took quite a long time." "What can I say?" he shrugged. "I'm not Soriah." "Let's hide!" Finian suggested and Kirnoth nodded. They both rushed to dive behind the counter. "Wait a minute," Kirnoth hissed, laying a hand on the Archer's forearm. "What are we hiding from? He can't see us through the door." "Come on, Mom!" the voice shouted. "I can 'ere ye movin' about in there. Open up!" "My guess is this person calling for Mom is innocent and has no idea of the ingredients," Kirnoth told his Companion, his voice barely audible, even to the half-elf. "Finian, why don't you use the slippers to get a look at who is at the door without them seeing you." "Good idea," Finian said. "Why don't we just let him in and act like we are here wondering where Mom is too?" Ruze asked as he and Ledare and Draelond filed into the dining room. Ledare nodded. "I like that plan too," she said. "Let's pretend we are here for the meat pies." "Wait one minute, sir!" Ruze called out brightly toward the door. "Well, it's abou' ferkin' time," they heard the man on the other side of the door grumble. Draelond flexed his muscles and pressed his left fist into the palm of his right hand. "I could have a little... um... let's call it... 'discussion' with him to see what he knows about 'Mom' and the whole operation," the man suggested. There was little doubt that noone would be able to resist Draelond's 'debating skills' for very long. "How about we try it the non-violent way first," Ledare suggested and slipped her sword into its sheath. "Then if it looks like it is going nowhere, you can take over with your muscle?" Draelond looked down on her and his eyes fell on the Janissary symbol that clasped her maroon cloak around her neck. "Okay," he nodded. "But he'd better talk fast." Finian took up the stout bar that held the two doors shut and before he could do anything more, a hand on the rightmost door pushed it open, flooding the dim-lit interior of the shop with light from the street outside. A nondescript fellow of medium height and tawny-colored hair walked in immediately. "What took ye so lo-" he stopped short as his eyes moved over the assemblage. "Who inna nine hell's is you?" he asked, taking a half-step back toward the open doorway. Finian stepped up behind him and blocked the door. "We're just here for the meat pies," Ruze said with a broad smile. "O-oh," the man replied. From the expression on his face it seemed that he was trying hard to convince himself that that was the group's purpose. "Ye mean yer temp'rary 'elp, like me an' Simon." "Simon?" Ledare asked. The man jacked a nervous thumb toward the street. "My mate," the man said. "He work's the cart while I brings 'em in." "Bring them in?" Ruze asked. "Bring who in?" The man licked his lips and a false rubbery smile moved twitchily across his mouth. His eyes shifted uncomfortably from Companion to Companion. He was beginning to sweat. "Why customers, a course," he said and then he cupped a hand around his mouth and bellowed, "MEEEAAAT PIIIEES!!!! GETCHA MEAT PIES 'ERE!!!" "Yes, of course," Ledare said with a diplomatic smile. "How many do you need?" "Why alls ye got," he said, clapping his callused hands together. "It was a right reg'lar stroke a genius sellin' the pies at the festival! I kinna keep the cart stocked! None of us can!" He fumbled under his tunic and hands went instinctively to weapons. The man stopped and drew his hands slowly out from under his shirt. Sweat was now beading on his upper lip and forehead. He took another step back and bumped into Finian. "Say!" the man protested. "Wha' is all this? Where's Mom?" "Mother had to step out for some... ingredients," Ledare began and the man turned quickly to duck out past the Archer and slip into the street. Finian was able to block him long enough for Draelond to step forward and latch two hands on the man - one around his neck and the other in the waistband of his trousers. The warrior hauled him backward into the restaurant and Finian slammed shut the door. The bar fell into place with a THUNK of finality. "Oh, sweet Flor," the man was gibbering as Draelond reeled him around. "Have mercy! Mercy!" "Did you show mercy to those poor folk downstairs?" Draelond growled. He clamped his hands around the man's torso, one under each arm, and lifted him bodily off the ground. "I've got wha' money we've made so far t'day!" the man whimpered as he fumbled under his tunic for the bulging coin purse he had strapped there. He tossed it to the floorboards where it landed with a loud ka-chink. "Take it! Take it! Jus' dinna kill me!" Ledare and Ruze stepped up on either side of Draelond. "I don't think he knows anything," the Battlegaurd said and Ledare nodded. "Has Mother shared with you the extra special recipe?" she asked the sweaty man. "O' course not!" the man choked out. "I was only hired on Waterday. An' only to sell th' pies at Kakadiador. Nothin' more!" "He's lying," Draelond suggested and lifted the man a little higher into the air. "I ain't lying'!" he squirmed. "My real job's at the' Bellman's Guild! I'm a crier! Please, with Ibrahil as my witness, I ain't lyin'!" Draelond lowered the man roughly to the floor and he collapsed into a heap there, clutching his ribs where the warrior's hands had been. Ledare squatted down beside him. "Where are all the meat pies going?" she asked. "To the festival," the man moaned. "There's prolly a half dozen carts out there sellin' the pies. We come back 'ere to get more when we runs out." "And who meets you here?" the Janissary pressed. "Mom was 'ere this mornin'," he told her. "She an' 'er oldest both." "Nunzio?" Ruze asked and the man nodded. "That's the one," he said. "Great fat fella, him." "And you say, he's the oldest?" the Battleguard went on. "Ayuh," the man replied. "There's five of 'em altogether. All boys, an' the fat one's the' oldest." Ledare stood back up. "That still doesn't tell us where Mother got to and what this is all about," she said. "I can't believe this is just a lucrative business endeavor." "I wonder if there's some sort of a taint on the people who eat the meat pies even if they don't do it knowingly," Kirnoth suggested. "So when the time comes those people won't count on the side of good. Or something." "That is a very interesting suggestion, Kirnoth," Ledare said with a nod. She looked back down at the man on the ground. "Have you noticed anything different about the people who ate the pies you were selling?" The man shook his head but said nothing. "I do not so much think that eating the pies makes them evil, but could make people sick and kill them," Finian offered. "Mom's pies?" the man asked with a look of confusion. "Not likely. I've been eatin' pies from this 'ere shop fer years an' nothin's ever happened to me." The man's gaze suddenly fixed on some distant point and he looked even more confused suddenly. "But I did 'ear Mom mention that she'd whipped up a right special batch of pies for sale at the festival," the man told them as the memories slowly resurfaced. "Fit to herald the birth of a king, she said, whatever that means." [/QUOTE]
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