For More Than Glory

[Memnus]

((Since this thread was supposed to be for the camp outside, but nothing became of it, I'm hijacking it for our current situation. No need for us to fill up the boards any more than we already have.))

Chaos has erupted outside a tavern in the Solinburg docks district. The group ambushed their prey and his guards, but the fight did not turn well. Now, even though the wizard has been incapacitated and killed, Argus is trapped by two strong bodyguards, Valdir has managed to hobble the horses but no further, Kirran is nowhere to be seen, and Rolf is in a wary stalemate with the two strangers from the tavern. His fighting prowess has proved inferior to the tall and vicious Gadreman, and to make things worse, Almedh holds the unconscious Fleck as a hostage.

In the middle of the fray, a small red fox stands atop the slain wizard. Bristletail is focused on Almedh, hackles raised, teeth bared, and snarling low in his throat, but he seems insignificant next to the mighty warriors now facing off against each other.

 

[Emiricol]

The two warriors exchange meaningful glances, and the first one says to the foes arrayed against them, in Tradespeak, "We have failed our task because of you. I am inclined to exact revenge, whether myself or through my, eh, friends, but there's little profit in that. What value do you place on your lives, or at least, peace of mind?"

The second warrior nods, looking for a reaction.

 

[firehorse]

Valdir whistles to get their attention. As they look up they are looking down the shaft of a nocked arrow, another ready to nock and loose quickly after, into the eyes of a really pissed off elf. "Tis no care of mine you choose to protect a known murderer and failed. Now you choose to try and extort money from us?! Without these newcomers," glancing at the two me who came from the bar, "you would be lying beside your master. I've been hunted before, and this latest bout with your pitiful human assassins and manhunters for ill gained profit has stretched my otherwise good nature to its end. My question to you is: 'By what price do think your revenge will come at, if it comes at all?'"

Glancing to the newcomers, "I have a feeling you may have backed the wrong horse and not know it. Being the case or no, now you have a choice. This mage you are mistakenly trying to back is a murderer of several members of a prominent merchant family. Some say it is from possessing a cursed knife, but, either way, he is being brought to answer for that and other things. I can finish him in the blink of an eye with but one arrow, so, either way, nobody is getting paid today on the account of this murdering mage. The choice now is, how far are you willing to go on his account?" Moving the arrow to point directly at the mage's head, Valdir illustrates his point.

 

[evandariel]

Gadreman merely grins, an evil, sadistic, and unpredictable grin.

"Forget so soon about yer gnome friend, eh?"

 

[firehorse]

Valdir doesn't take his eyes off his aim at the mage. "So, newcomer, you think this is a standoff...You won't kill my friend if I don't kill your...What exactly is this mage to you anyway? You joined this fight for what purpose? These other two were doing their job, but you? What do you think to get out of killing my friend? You think this mage will be so grateful that he will just pay you out of the kindness of his heart?"

Now it is Valdir's turn to smile and even laugh a mocking laugh. "You are a fool to think he will, or that I will stop hunting him... This has become personal ever since he hired assassins to kill us. For now, I doubt this is as personal to you. Kill my friend, and it becomes personal. I remember you from the barfight yesterday. You seemed to have more honor than that. Maybe I was wrong." Valdir gives one of his signature shrugs, still not taking his aim off of the mage's head.

 

[Rish]

During the exchange between Valdir and the warriors, Kirran has time to quickly and invisibly cross the few feet to the downed wizard; with a quick touch (Cure Minor) he keeps the man from bleeding to death. His voice floating out of empty air, he hisses angrily to the nearby Rolf, "Don't kill him yet if you can help it. We have enough to deal with without the dagger on the loose this instant."

Then during Valdir's next long comment, he turns from the wizard and hurries to Almedh's side where the desert man holds the unconscious Fleck, trying to edge close enough to get a hand on the gnome. Meanwhile, his disembodied voice addresses Almedh in a low murmur. "I'd like to think you're only helping him because it's the first work you found, desert man, and it'd be a shame if that elf on the rooftop decided to do anything silly. Especially as you tell good tales, as I told you last night, and they're short enough in the world. I'd be glad if you'd at least help me as far as putting my friend down so I can help him, though I'd be gladder to know you were willing to abandon that wizard there."

 

[Emiricol]

((Threads merged and the tavern cleaned up.))

 

[crystorix]

Rolf enters the tavern, helping a rather dazed Argus along. The two of them make their way to the table where the rest are waiting. He gently seats Argus down and watches as Jade slides off Valdir and climbs up to curl on Argus' shoulders.

Rolf looks to Kirran. "I'm not sure what's wrong with him, but it seems to go beyond his wounds. Unless you know how to help him, I'm going to take him out to the camp. Perhaps being out of the city will be better for his mental well-being."

 

[Memnus]

Fleck sits glumly over a half-pint of ale, but hasn't drunk any of it. He holds his head in his hands, his own blood staining his rent vest. The axe wound beneath is closed now, thanks to Kirran, but still red and painful. Gradually, he lifts his head, and gathers his wits about him. He stuffs various spell components back into their pockets and mutters, running a finger along the tear. His finger glows softly yellow and the leather stretches back and seals itself closed. "So now the wizard is in the hands of this stranger. Can we trust him? He's Ulruzian, by his voice, but a human. Could well be an escaped slave." He looks down at his ale again, then shakes his head. "Trained to kill, too, clearly. Good Grelyk, we can only hope he doesn't kill the mage. His type is the kind most easily caught by the blade - strong, vengeful, and not trained for psychic discipline."

 

[firehorse]

Valdir sits in the corner, a snarl on his lips. "You should have let me just kill that damn wizard! And if that giant had a problem with it, he could have a few shafts too! Maybe that would teach him to stay out of things he has no part in."

He downs about half the ale and sits sullenly before shrugging, "Well, at least he isn't an assassin, Argus yet lives. If he wants to kill the wizard, I'm hardly of a mind to care at this point. Save me the arrows."

Turning to Rolf, "If you are heading out to the camp, I'll go with you. The stench of civilization is reeking in my nostrils and ruining my otherwise good nature."