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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 2860445" data-attributes="member: 22792">Chapter 13: Family, Responsibility, and VoyageA little shorter than usual...but no less enjoyable because of it. <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f61b.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":p" title="Stick out tongue    :p"  data-smilie="7"data-shortname=":p" />---------------------------------------------------------------------The Heroes were gathered once again in ‘Honest’ Abe’s Inn, that establishment that had once been the Whore’s Nag before the owner had disappeared nearly a decade prior.  The morning sun was peeking through the windows as the loud din of dozens of refugees feasting—on the King’s dollar by order of Captain Dougal—swelled into a cacophonous noise of metal against bowl against teeth.Motega had returned the prior night, ragged, dirty and with dozens of “lost” villagers tailing behind him—a living, snake that had stretched into the plains and forests of the east.  The villagers had joined their brethren, happy but tired, in the few remaining rooms of the Inn and once those were filled, in the stables with the horses of the Heroes of Minetown and Marchford.The heroes were sat around their table, their kingdom, among their people.  They were saviors, respected and admired by all the folk now feasting.  Glances from the people, grins and jokes made their chests swell with pride.  Tobias seemed the only unaffected by the joy.  A dark shadow was forming behind his eyes.The door for the Inn swung open, barely denting the noise.  A young, clean-shaven man strode inn.  His chest was pushed out with pride for his position.  Upon his shoulder, the King’s symbol broke the mute brown of his leather armor.  His bright eyes locked quickly upon the heroes.  His feet pushed him toward their table.Without pause, the soldier knelt and spoke simultaneously, “Good sirs, the Captain regrets he cannot attend a morning meeting.  He has sent word to the Baronet demanding an audience, and now discusses the matter with his advisors.  Should the Baronet reply - and we have no reason to think he would not - the Captain will immediately send for you.  He wishes you to accompany him at the proposed meeting.”  With a nod he stood, both attentive and relaxed.Fitz turned toward the boy while keeping one eye on the mage.  Magnus was swallowing the last gulp of a large mug of beer.  Somehow, the talkative, and cocky, and demanding mage managed to utter a few syllables with his mouth and throat still have full with the beer.  Fitz opened his own mouth, drowning the garbled words of his compatriots.  “Thank you, good sir.  Return to your commander and assure him we will be ready when he has need for us.”The soldier cast a glance at Magnus, whose face was reddening slightly, before pivoting to exit.“I could’ve handled that,” he murmured.“Sure you could have,” Fitz chuckled.  He drank from his own mug.  “Just as you showed your childishness to the Captain last night with your OOH, I’m going to write a message on this note and tell the Captain something he already knows!  I’m so smart!”Magnus coughed.  Motega grinned.“I am smart,” Magnus grumbled.  “Why don’t you drink a little more harvest priest?  It seems to swell your…pride.  We don’t need a coward traveling with us.”“Shut up, mage,” Motega growled.  “Your smart, sure.  You did well in the battle.  But you’re cocky.  Besides, no matter how much Fitz drinks, his balls will never be larger than mine.”Tobias finally grinned, his focus returning to the playful conversation.  “Bah.  I’m a paladin and I can’t lie.  My balls are bigger than…”The door to the inn slammed open as a rough gust of wind tore into building.  The din, which had quieted slightly for the soldier, fell to complete silence.  She, for it was a woman that strode proudly in, wore fading finery with exquisitely cut jewels sparkling on each long finger.  A single strand of blonde uncurled from her brow, from the prison-like bun that trapped the remainder of her hair behind her head.  That strand caught the blue in her eyes, amplifying it before falling to her shoulder.Behind her followed two giant men dressed in chain.  Each paused, to try to fit through the door.  Magnus recognized them immediately and he murmured, “Gordians…”The two brutes gave a weary eye to the crowds before moving to flank the lady.  A third man then entered.  He was slightly shorter and thinner the two brutes, but no the less imposing.  Around his torso, a fashionable cloak made from a Gordian panther dangled along with a dozen or more wooden figurines.The assembly was quiet as the lady took one more step forward.  With her voice, resonant but trembling, sultry and noble she stated, “I have come in search of the Heroes of Marchford, and am in need.  I shall pay for information pointing me in their direction.”Magnus grinned as he stood.  “How much ye paying there Lady?”  A few of the commoners chuckled but not at the mage’s word so much as the fact that the paladin stood up slowly behind him.  A soft thud echoed around the common room as Tobias’ hand cracked into the mage’s skull.“Keep your coins in your purse, Lady.”  Tobias glowered at the mage.  “We are those that you seek.”  Tobias focused, demanding his divine sense stretch outward and toward the arrivals…</blockquote>

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