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With a feigned nonchalance, Weel listens to the trio's converstation. "--bout this?" asks Helm anxiously. "Certain," says Ventruli with detached calm. "Proudwind has seen the same crow ever since we entered the mountains. We are being watched..." "And no idea by who," mutters Helm. "Oh, I...

"Only with my zeal for truth, at the moment--" states Jacob, as he regards the badge, "--Mr. Brown, though I do have a pistol in my room. Self-defense. Well, you have a badge. Do you have an official reason for being here and threatening people who ask you questions? Because, as you people...

The local vines and creepers wrap around the goblins legs. The brutes scream in horror as the plants stop their progress. Some of them begin to hack desperately with their swords.

Jacob stares at the man suspiciously. "Why do you ask?" He glances around. "And what danger are you talking about? As far as I can see, the only danger around here is you and your buddy Crockett, over there, busting down doors and waving guns around!" He looks at them. "In fact--do you...

As they are speaking, it appears that the goblins in camp have managed to straighten out their confusion. A group of them disgorge from the camp's entrance, with weapons ready.

OOC--This is a motel. A cheap motel. If you shout things, people will overhear them. "That will look good on your report," notes Jacob. He glances around curious. "Is there a warrant connected with this? Or is this little exercise operating on some extra-legal principle that you've got...

OOC: IC: Jacob stares at the man offended, and raises his hands, to demonstrate he's unarmed. "Buddy, don't kid yourself. You guys can fix a lot, but shooting an unarmed white man in cold blood without fear of repercussions is an ability your agency lost in the '60s. Now, kindly explain...

OOC: Two sets of studded leather armor, two small metal shields, two longswords (masterwork quality), two halfspears. The group's first two days of travel are largely uneventful. They pass through the hills and mountains, share breakfast, dinner, and the occasional, infrequent conversation...

"Hey! Don't yell at me! I warn you, I keep on retainer over 600 pounds of attorney, over 300 of it one very irate Filipino!" He glances at them. "What's going on here? Why are two FBI agents knocking down doors in the middle of nowhere? I demand answers! The nation demands answers!" His...

"Right now, we don't have anything to arm you with. You might consider asking your friend there--he seems to have turned up some stuff. Otherwise you'll have to make due with what we give you in camp. As for an emergency--well, we'll tell you what to do when that happens, and not before."...

Somewhat intrigued, Jacob wanders out of his room, to figure out what the federal Miami Vice team-up is doing in this town.

Jacob cracks open his door, and glances out. "Hey, could you keep it down out here! I'm expecting a phone call!"

Well,

The Nibelung, his wolf, and the sorceror make a break for it. Fortunately, their escape and Liev's fire create so much confusion, they easily exit the camp. Graf and Devon The two companions were startled to see a Nibelung, a wolf and a disheveled human running out of the camp, towards them.

Tada! I hope he meets your approval. I do have an idea on how he can be brought into the party, if you're interested...

Francis Fulk Fitzwarren, the Great Beast of London Male Dilletante/Occultist 4 Defensive Option Height: 5' 6" Weight: 128 lbs Hair: Black Eyes: Hazel STR 10 (+0) DEX 13 (+1) CON 12 (+1) INT 18 (+4) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 15 (+2) HP: 25 AC: 11 (+1 Dexterity) Init: +1 Speed: 30' Sanity: 70 Saving...

The next morning the four recruits--or rather the three recruits, and the Nibelung who's coming on what is essentially a dare--meet in front of The Bearded Flea with the Syrans. Helm glances at them. "Now--we're going to be travelling east for several days. I've had Ventruli buy some horses...

The wolf is fine, and the wounds have been healed.

OOC: That'd be a Bluff. Roll 3, +7= 10 The fat goblin stares at you for a moment, then runs screaming from the tent. "Help! Help! Empire! Going to kill me! Help!"

Expect to see Francis Fulk Fitzwarren on Monday. :)