~ Outside Grundle's, Ravenscraig
Forge is unable to find any signs of the Dwarves' affiliations aside from their fine clothing, though their tunics look a bit tousled. "About the usual in such a place," says the one who held the dagger, his sapphire eyes playful. "Allow me the honour of introductions. I am Pahl son of Barin and this is Krull son of Gam. We have travelled a ways to see the sights of this city, and we're greatly enjoying it so far."
In response, Krull harumphed.
"Our problem is with a few of our rowdy brothers in yonder tavern. You see, there was a bit of a scuffle earlier in the evening, and through what must be a gross misunderstanding, an object that is very important to us, a ceremonial hammer, was taken. The culprit, a big fellow they seem to call Mountain, says he'll give it back if we can win a duel."
"But he's HUGE!" blurts out Krull. "Like a slab of granite, he is!"
"Yes," agrees Pahl. "What's more, I've studied at the Roll of Laws and it clearly states that duelling is forbidden after nightfall. So good fellows, could you advise me on how I should go about solving this conundrum? You must be seasoned veterans of Arcosia." He says this last as he eyes Forge's bruised forehead. "Perhaps there's some other way to go about this which is not obvious to outsiders, ha?"
~ The Hatted Badger, Ravenscraig
Faldrik the Green pushes up from his table and approaches the group, with a wide smile. Only the worried wrinkle compacting his forehead gives any indication that he may be less than happy. "Excuse me, sir," he addresses James, coming to stand beside the taller man. "But I couldn't help overhear you. Were you addressing me, by chance? Or your companions?"
Saaga looks on approvingly while the Marguardin takes a long gulp from his mug, wipes his mouth with his whole forearm, and watches unconcernedly.
And Jemal, feel free to multiclass into Bard next level if you want, then you could burst into song after giving someone the stare or beat-down.
