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Message: <blockquote data-quote="dungeon blaster" data-source="post: 3987344" data-attributes="member: 30575">Chapter 5: BrindolDecided I'd write this one in past-tense as Ed suggested!-----------Chapter 5: Brindolor, two can play at this game!It was a blustery late-afternoon when the companions arrived at the gates of Brindol. They had traveled for several days along the Dawn Way, the main road that cut through the Vale, stopping for the night in small villages and continuing on their journey as the sun rose. Unlike the dangerous Moonsea to the south, a person could travel the Vale roads without much fear of banditry or monsters. Tarquin often wondered why one of the northern Moonsea cities like Melvaunt or Zhentil Keep hadn't invaded, but Caetal quietly informed him that the Moonsea cities would do so in a heartbeat if given the chance. Rangers, like himself, and other groups worked day and night to keep the Vale free of "Moony" influence -- tracking Zhentish spies, maintaining strong relations with the dwarves of the Dragonspine mountains, and keeping a constant vigilance for any hints of invasion. For a moment, Tarquin entertained the idea of being a "Vale Protector" himself, but quickly dismissed the idea. Sure, it was neccesary for the safety of the people, but it sounded like tedious and unglamorous work...and where's the glory in that?! No, he reasoned that surely the best way to protect the Vale was to kill evil things and take their loot.Once inside the city walls, the companions rented a few rooms in an upscale-looking inn before each went their own way for the evening. Tarquin made his way on foot to the local playhouse, hoping to discover the whereabouts of his friend, and the final companion, Talara. She had been raised in Hommlet along with the others, but was not a native -- in fact, she would have no answer if asked where she had spent the first few years of her life. One thing was clear, Talara was a half-elf and of gypsy stock on her human side. She was also quite attractive, with short, brown hair, a thin but athletic body, and slightly pointed ears betraying her elven lineage. Although she knew when and how to use her looks, as Tarquin was well aware of, she was by no means dependent on them. A budding femme fatale with a knack for guile and manipulation, Tarquin couldn't imagine a life of adventure without her.He found her, finally, at a high-class tavern called the Laughing Manticore; it was the kind of place that catered to moneyed, i.e. successful adventurers, and quite famous for its special Manticore Mead, which was served in a hollowed out spiked manticore tail. When he arrived, she was sitting alone at a large round table, sipping slowly from a long-stemmed glass. She spied him almost immediately and the two friends greeted each other warmly. They sat down at her table and quickly fell into the sort of conversation one has with a friend long absent. It turned out that she had spent the last four months in Brindol, spending her time at the theater, the dance halls, the soirees of well-heeled individuals, etcetera. How she could afford such a lifestyle was a question that she seemed less willing to answer, but for a wink and a sly grin.Tarquin was just remembering how much he loved conversing with her, and of the other things he loved to do with her (hint, nudge), when his thoughts were interrupted by a pair of hands placed upon her shoulders."I hope I'm not interrupting" the man said, smiling, as he slowly ran his hands over Talara's shoulders. "Is this a friend?", he asked her.The man was handsome -- Tarquin couldn't deny it. And judging by the two ruby-encrusted rings on his fingers, wealthy as well. Tarquin disliked him already. "Yes, among other things", he replied with a forced smile that looked more like a grimace.The man ignored the comment. "Aren't you going to introduce us?". His voice held no hint of jealousy, which disturbed Tarquin. Often, men held their women close when he was around. Often, women held him close when their men weren't around."Oh, yes! Tarquin, this is Rillor Paln. He owns this place, isn't that interesting?""Yeah. It's uh, swell." His smile was gone...pure grimace. Tarquin had always wanted to own a tavern, especially one that catered to adventuring types. Basically, he wanted a place just like this one."Yes, it's really become quite popular in Brindol" Rillor boasted. "When I purchased it three years ago it was infested with rats and about ready to collapse. Got it for coppers on the silver, you know.""That so. Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you..." Tarquin rose, drained the last of his mead and slammed the tail spike into the table with a satisfying "thunk". He towered over the man and was far more muscled, but he couldn't resist puffing out his chest to emphasize the point. Let him have his fancy tavern, Tarquin thought. We'll see whom the bards sing about soon enough. He turned to Talara, gave her a long, tight hug. "You know, I could probably crush him like a bug", he whispered darkly. "With my pecs".Talara slowly broke off the hug. "Don't be jealous, Tarquin. I don't love him.... I only sleep with him", she remarked dryly.  She knew it would sting him, and she was the happier for it. Although they had bedded many times, she knew he loved Robyn more than her, and she felt a dark satisfaction by turning the tables on him.Tarquin stiffened. "Uh. Yeah, well...come find us later tonight. I'd like to take you up on that offer at the Thirsty Zombie." He strode out, roughly pushing past Rillor."Strange fellow", Rillor said, embracing her. "Shall we?"Talara hesitated for a moment, glanced at the tavern door. "Yeah".The two walked arm-in-arm up the stairs to his private chambers.</blockquote>

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