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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7214458" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 79</p><p></p><p>Bredan’s first impression of Adelar was that every single person in the kingdom of Arresh had been gathered together and placed inside its walls.</p><p></p><p>The city was perched atop a bluff that overlooked the surrounding landscape of the Sarund Valley. From a distance it had resembled a huge castle, surrounded by a tall stone wall that hid all but the tallest rooftops and towers behind its bulk. They had been able to see it from miles away, looming on its rock like some vigilant sentinel.</p><p></p><p>The streets were packed with people, animals, and vehicles of all sizes. Bredan did not see how they could all fit, or how the pedestrians avoided being crushed to death under the carts and wagons that barely seemed to slow as they passed through the sea of people. Somehow business was being conducted through the chaos, with merchants crying out from shop fronts or compact stalls tucked into the narrow spaces between buildings. Every time Bredan turned his head it felt like someone was shouting in his ear, trying to entice him into buying something. The sights, sounds, and smells were almost overwhelming.</p><p></p><p>Someone collided into him as he tried to take it all in, and he was nearly run over by a wagon that rattled past almost before he knew it was there. The driver shouted something at him that he couldn’t quite make out but was obviously insulting, and when he looked back to see who had struck him he couldn’t make him out in the crowd. A moment’s alarm had him grasping for his purse, but it was still where it was supposed to be. It had been an accident, not an attempt to rob him.</p><p></p><p>He flinched as someone grabbed him and almost reached for his sword before he realized it was Kosk. The dwarf had a wry look on his face. “Try not to get yourself killed before we make it to the war,” he said.</p><p></p><p>Bredan followed him over to a slightly quieter spot along the side of the street, in the lee of a squat building that he identified as a guardhouse even before he saw the soldier standing in its doorway. Glori was speaking with the man, who looked barely older than Bredan himself, with a bowl-shaped iron cap tilted low over his face and a suit of studded leather armor that looked to be a size or two too large. Quellan was just standing there, but the way the soldier’s eyes kept flicking over to the half-orc suggested that his kind weren’t very common in Adelar.</p><p></p><p>By the time that Bredan and Kosk rejoined the others Glori had gotten whatever information she’d wanted, and they resumed their way deeper into the city.</p><p></p><p>“Do you know where we’re going?” Bredan asked Quellan.</p><p></p><p>“Glori is more familiar with places like this than I,” the cleric responded. At least he too seemed to be unsettled by the place, though on him nervousness looked indistinguishable from ferocity.</p><p></p><p>Glori led them, and if she was intimidated by the crowd she didn’t show it. When they ran into a particularly dense knot of people she shouted, “Make way! Make way!” in a surprisingly booming voice, and to Bredan’s surprise people <em>did</em> make way for them to pass. Or maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise, he thought, noticing how people’s eyes widened when they fixed on Quellan. The half-orc’s eyes were focused on a point directly ahead, refusing to acknowledge those stares. Kosk followed in his wake, muttering to himself. The dwarf drew his own share of double-takes, with his clean-shaven features and his monk’s habit, both unusual enough to draw attention. But the dwarf’s face was set in an expression that caused people to hurry out of his path almost as quickly as they did for Quellan.</p><p></p><p>Crossing the city seemed to take hours, but Bredan knew that couldn’t be right from the slow shifting of the shadows from the sun high overhead. They passed taverns, shops that looked interesting, even a theater covered in colorful bunting that extended out over the street on long wooden poles. They had agreed that they would report in first, to make sure that the local authorities knew about the humanoid forces they had encountered around Northpine, and to find out what was happening with the war. The people they had talked to on the road had offered a hundred different stories and rumors, ranging from the complete and utter defeat of the raiders to reports of a legion of a thousand screaming goblinoid warriors a day’s march from the city. But it had been a long walk, and as they passed another tavern with double doors open wide he thought that maybe one drink would not delay them overmuch.</p><p></p><p>He drifted in that direction and was about to suggest it to the others when he caught a glimpse of the interior. The place was crowded, with every seat he could see taken, but there was none of the laughter or music or games he remembered from the Boar’s Tusk or the other taverns back home. The faces he could see either looked sullen or dazed, as if they didn’t quite realize where they were or how they had gotten there.</p><p></p><p>“Bredan?” Glori called. She’d paused just ahead and was looking back at him. They all were.</p><p></p><p>“Coming,” Bredan said, hurrying to catch up.</p><p></p><p>It was like that throughout the city, worry and uncertainty draping the city like a heavy cloak. Many of the people they encountered were armed, and a good share armored as well. Even the merchants carried knives openly, and the ones in nicer clothes had guards shadowing them, hard men and women who shot him looks as if he might attack their charges right there on the street. But Bredan also saw clusters of families huddled together in the narrow spaces between buildings, sometimes with a mound of luggage and other possessions, other times just with the clothes on their backs. What he didn’t see were beggars, and fewer soldiers than he’d thought to find in a city at war. Maybe the army was staging somewhere outside the city, he thought. There had been guards at the city gates, but they hadn’t stopped them from coming in, had just stood there watching the constant flood of people coming in and out.</p><p></p><p>At one point he heard the familiar hammering of a smithy, but the narrow streets twisted the sounds so that he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He was so distracted looking around that he almost ran into Quellan’s back before he realized that they had come to a halt.</p><p></p><p>They stood on the edge of a small square. There were people about, but after the crowds near the gate the place looked relatively deserted. But Bredan noticed that only in passing as his eyes were drawn ahead and up, at their destination.</p><p></p><p>Adelar was a fortified town, but the Governor’s Keep was a fortress within a fortress, a massive block of stone surrounded by a wall twenty feet high. Two tall towers rose up behind it, flanking a steeply-slanted roof covered in dark tiles. The flag of the King flew on a standard atop the taller of those towers; the armored knight and his rearing charger had to be almost life-sized upon that huge standard. Armed soldiers in livery that matched that flag stood atop that wall, and next to the narrow opening that led into the keep. These guards didn’t look as casual as the ones manning the city gates, and Bredan felt a disturbing sensation that they were watching <em>him</em> specifically, even from across the square.</p><p></p><p>Even Glori seemed to hesitate in the face of that imposing edifice, but after a moment she squared her shoulders and said, “Well, we’re here, let’s go.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7214458, member: 143"] Chapter 79 Bredan’s first impression of Adelar was that every single person in the kingdom of Arresh had been gathered together and placed inside its walls. The city was perched atop a bluff that overlooked the surrounding landscape of the Sarund Valley. From a distance it had resembled a huge castle, surrounded by a tall stone wall that hid all but the tallest rooftops and towers behind its bulk. They had been able to see it from miles away, looming on its rock like some vigilant sentinel. The streets were packed with people, animals, and vehicles of all sizes. Bredan did not see how they could all fit, or how the pedestrians avoided being crushed to death under the carts and wagons that barely seemed to slow as they passed through the sea of people. Somehow business was being conducted through the chaos, with merchants crying out from shop fronts or compact stalls tucked into the narrow spaces between buildings. Every time Bredan turned his head it felt like someone was shouting in his ear, trying to entice him into buying something. The sights, sounds, and smells were almost overwhelming. Someone collided into him as he tried to take it all in, and he was nearly run over by a wagon that rattled past almost before he knew it was there. The driver shouted something at him that he couldn’t quite make out but was obviously insulting, and when he looked back to see who had struck him he couldn’t make him out in the crowd. A moment’s alarm had him grasping for his purse, but it was still where it was supposed to be. It had been an accident, not an attempt to rob him. He flinched as someone grabbed him and almost reached for his sword before he realized it was Kosk. The dwarf had a wry look on his face. “Try not to get yourself killed before we make it to the war,” he said. Bredan followed him over to a slightly quieter spot along the side of the street, in the lee of a squat building that he identified as a guardhouse even before he saw the soldier standing in its doorway. Glori was speaking with the man, who looked barely older than Bredan himself, with a bowl-shaped iron cap tilted low over his face and a suit of studded leather armor that looked to be a size or two too large. Quellan was just standing there, but the way the soldier’s eyes kept flicking over to the half-orc suggested that his kind weren’t very common in Adelar. By the time that Bredan and Kosk rejoined the others Glori had gotten whatever information she’d wanted, and they resumed their way deeper into the city. “Do you know where we’re going?” Bredan asked Quellan. “Glori is more familiar with places like this than I,” the cleric responded. At least he too seemed to be unsettled by the place, though on him nervousness looked indistinguishable from ferocity. Glori led them, and if she was intimidated by the crowd she didn’t show it. When they ran into a particularly dense knot of people she shouted, “Make way! Make way!” in a surprisingly booming voice, and to Bredan’s surprise people [i]did[/i] make way for them to pass. Or maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise, he thought, noticing how people’s eyes widened when they fixed on Quellan. The half-orc’s eyes were focused on a point directly ahead, refusing to acknowledge those stares. Kosk followed in his wake, muttering to himself. The dwarf drew his own share of double-takes, with his clean-shaven features and his monk’s habit, both unusual enough to draw attention. But the dwarf’s face was set in an expression that caused people to hurry out of his path almost as quickly as they did for Quellan. Crossing the city seemed to take hours, but Bredan knew that couldn’t be right from the slow shifting of the shadows from the sun high overhead. They passed taverns, shops that looked interesting, even a theater covered in colorful bunting that extended out over the street on long wooden poles. They had agreed that they would report in first, to make sure that the local authorities knew about the humanoid forces they had encountered around Northpine, and to find out what was happening with the war. The people they had talked to on the road had offered a hundred different stories and rumors, ranging from the complete and utter defeat of the raiders to reports of a legion of a thousand screaming goblinoid warriors a day’s march from the city. But it had been a long walk, and as they passed another tavern with double doors open wide he thought that maybe one drink would not delay them overmuch. He drifted in that direction and was about to suggest it to the others when he caught a glimpse of the interior. The place was crowded, with every seat he could see taken, but there was none of the laughter or music or games he remembered from the Boar’s Tusk or the other taverns back home. The faces he could see either looked sullen or dazed, as if they didn’t quite realize where they were or how they had gotten there. “Bredan?” Glori called. She’d paused just ahead and was looking back at him. They all were. “Coming,” Bredan said, hurrying to catch up. It was like that throughout the city, worry and uncertainty draping the city like a heavy cloak. Many of the people they encountered were armed, and a good share armored as well. Even the merchants carried knives openly, and the ones in nicer clothes had guards shadowing them, hard men and women who shot him looks as if he might attack their charges right there on the street. But Bredan also saw clusters of families huddled together in the narrow spaces between buildings, sometimes with a mound of luggage and other possessions, other times just with the clothes on their backs. What he didn’t see were beggars, and fewer soldiers than he’d thought to find in a city at war. Maybe the army was staging somewhere outside the city, he thought. There had been guards at the city gates, but they hadn’t stopped them from coming in, had just stood there watching the constant flood of people coming in and out. At one point he heard the familiar hammering of a smithy, but the narrow streets twisted the sounds so that he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He was so distracted looking around that he almost ran into Quellan’s back before he realized that they had come to a halt. They stood on the edge of a small square. There were people about, but after the crowds near the gate the place looked relatively deserted. But Bredan noticed that only in passing as his eyes were drawn ahead and up, at their destination. Adelar was a fortified town, but the Governor’s Keep was a fortress within a fortress, a massive block of stone surrounded by a wall twenty feet high. Two tall towers rose up behind it, flanking a steeply-slanted roof covered in dark tiles. The flag of the King flew on a standard atop the taller of those towers; the armored knight and his rearing charger had to be almost life-sized upon that huge standard. Armed soldiers in livery that matched that flag stood atop that wall, and next to the narrow opening that led into the keep. These guards didn’t look as casual as the ones manning the city gates, and Bredan felt a disturbing sensation that they were watching [i]him[/i] specifically, even from across the square. Even Glori seemed to hesitate in the face of that imposing edifice, but after a moment she squared her shoulders and said, “Well, we’re here, let’s go.” [/QUOTE]
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