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Feint Whispers Chapter #3: Festival of Falling

"Perhaps these miscreants own a cart that we can use to take their sorry selves back to town," Tarowyn looks in the direction of their homestead.

OOC: I forgot about the dead one. Edited my post above to reflect that.
 

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mirthcard said:
"Perhaps these miscreants own a cart that we can use to take their sorry selves back to town," Tarowyn looks in the direction of their homestead.

OOC: I forgot about the dead one. Edited my post above to reflect that.

Jericho shrugs...

"Lets just finish this business... anyone else hungry?"

Jericho pats his rumbling stomach...
 

Ardoss bares his teeth at Jericho's back, a look of distaste obvious on his face, but he does not respond. Having finished tying up the nobles, he stands uneasily, glancing about, clearly fuming.
 

Jericho sighs...

"Lets return to the good sherrif, he may know the best course of action from here..."

Jericho starts his way back to the Sherrif and the safehouse...
 

"If we had some pull with them this could have been avoided." Whitney sighs as she picks up Mist adn joins the others to head back to town, fingering her plain signet seal ruefully as she thinks over what happened and if it could have been avoided.
 

As the party begins to trudge back to town, five men surrounding a horse and wagon team come into view, marching torwards them. As they near, you recognize them as the sheriff's deputies. One calls out to the party, "Fists! Sir Whiteclove has sent us to clean up your inevitable mess. He asks that you make haste to the magisterial office to give a report as well as accept your next mission. We will escort the prisoners back to town."

Everyone excepting Whitney find something odd in their body language, as if they were not being entirely open with their intentions.
 

Tarowyn glances at the faces of his comrades and sees the same knowing looks in their eyes. He gives a slight nod to them, then addresses the men with the cart.

"We have just been through a rather difficult battle and don't have it within us to 'make haste' back to town," the elf says succintly to cagey group. "We'll travel back with the prisoners in the cart."

With that Tarowyn unslings his bow from his shoulder as if to make himself more comfortable for when he will sit in the cart, but actually the elf is preparing for the combat that he is sure will shortly follow. He gives a brief look to Jericho, before continuing to talk to the group of men.

"You said 'our inevitable mess,' just then. Was that meant as an insult to our brave D'orite here?" A smirk appears in the corner of the elf's mouth. "Because, I should warn you, he has had his fill of insults today."
 

Ardoss gives them a disdainful look, as he slides his sword off his back and holds up the blade, looking at it carefully. "I see no mess....." He smiles, baring his teeth.
 

Jericho gestures to the approaching group...

"They wouldn't be that foolish, Tarowyn... anyway, I would rather bring the prisoners myself. I think we can handle whatever mess we created..."
 
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Whitney looks at her compatriots and looks back at the men, Mist hissing in her ear as she does so. "Agreed, we will fulfill our duty as we swore to do." slips onto the cart and lets Mist leap into the back as her hand grips her components bag with care under her cloak.
 

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