Misery in Mordent

[Thrarn Iranorn]

Walking beside Baldor as he approaches the other group, Karthak remains silent as the dwarf speaks. His mind is filled with thoughts of where he is and trying to figure out what is going on. Seeing the musket in the hands guards, he wonders what a strange looking weapon. He has never seen one of its kind and nudges the dwarf and gestures to it when Baldor mentions he is a weapon smith. Finally he loudly speaks as the dwarf finishes talking, “I could definitely use a good stiff dwarven ale right about now.”

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort

Drevan joins Baldor next to the guards, “My name is Sir Drevan Whiteshield, Crown Knight of Solamnia, I’m a keeper of the peace and not a breaker their off. My friends and I just require a place to sit and enjoy a good hot meal, and maybe a place to stay for the night” Drevan gives a small but serious smile while he awaits their answer.

 

[Mithreander]

Looking at the 'weapon', the dwarf shrugs and nods to the needed drink. He answers with: "I miss my asses." as if that explained his feelings, though his nod seems clear enough. He could use a drink.

 

[Snipehunt]

The guards from the South walk quickly, but carefully, after Baldor, Ivar and Karthak as the three move towards the other four characters. Both groups of guards stop about 50 feet away - two the North, two to the South. One guard to the North, a tall, gangly man with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail, approaches more closely, holding the lantern high. He is wearing well-worn leather armor colored a bright red.

"Sorry to break up yer little party, strangers, but 'pears to me you ha'nt answered me question. Who are ya, and what be ya doin' traipsin' around in Thristletown after dark?"

From the angle of the moon, and the relatively warm night despite the occasional chill wind, it appears to the party that it is roughly 9 pm.

 

[Mithreander]

The dwarf turns to the guard and notes the gangly youth with a scowl. "Lad, you best be watchen that there tongue o' yours. It'll get ya in more trouble, then your friends can get ya out o'." Baldor then turns to the others in his party, and answers the guard. "We be travelers, by the look o' it. We be here in this town after dark becuase that's when we got 'ere. I gave me name, and so did there man." he says nodding towards the knight. "now mayhap you anser some o' our questions. We followed a black carrage 'ere. oo's is it, and why did they take me nephew!" the last is more a growl then words, the mear rememberance of the insident causing the normally placid dwarf's blood to boil. His face turns a darker shade, and his knuckles turn white on his warhammer.

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort

Drevan gives the dwarf a sideways glance and then takes a step forward to address the guards, ”I too was chasing after a black carriage but I lost it in the mist and seem it gave lost my way in the same mist” Drevan looks a bit embarrassed in admitting to being lost.

 

[Mithreander]

Quickly cooling down after a couple of deep dreaths, the dwarf turns to the guard and appologizes. "Sorry there, lad. It 'as been one 'ell of a night. I be tired, I lost me asses, and I'm thirsty for some ale. So if'n you 'ave no objections, me and me friends will be goen to that there tavern and grabben a pint." The dwarf then starts in the direction of the nearest inn/tavern/establishment with spirits (and I don't mean the temple!)

 

[Jarval]

"Greeting to you, Ivar." Horatio welcomes the half-orc. "Good that another of the City is with us."

Osric stands with Aesa's help, gingerly testing his treated leg. "Thanks, lass, you've fixed it up a treat." He grins, buckling the greave back onto his left leg. "Good to meet you, Ivar."

The two men watch as the guards approach, Osric's fingers inching towards the hilt of the greatsword slung across his back as he eyes the unidentified weapons. Both brothers stand ready to give aid if needed, watching as Sir Drevan and a dwarf speak with the soldiers.

"So you also where pursuing the black carriage?" Horatio looks in surprise at the dwarf. "A ghostly arm took one of the orphans in my charge, and my brother and I tried to chase it."

"Aye." Osric nods at his sibling's words. "Much good that it did. Those damn mists must have been reeking with magic to move us to whatever place this is." He stares dourly at the swampland, scratching his chin as he thinks. "Seems to me that someone wanted us all here pretty badly to expend that much power..."

"Which makes me even more concerned for the safety of the child." Horatio interjects. "But our dwarven friend is right, there's little more we can do this evening." The bard turns his attention back to the guardsmen.

"As strange as it may sound, it would seem that none of us know quite how we came to be here..."

"I can make a damn good guess..."

"Thank you brother, I'm sure you can. Or indeed where here is. I'd be most grateful if you could enlighten us on the latter point, and, if your duty allows it, direct us to an establishment where we can stay the night. Oh, and I've forgotten my manners entirely. I'm Horatio Lackland." He extends his hand, palm upwards, to the guard, a friendly smile on his face.

"Kord help us, could he be laying it on any thicker?" Osric mutters quietly, rolling his eyes at Horatio's little speech.


OOC: I've put Horatio's dialogue in sandy brown, and Osric's in yellow green, trying to make things a little clearer. If anyone dislikes the colours I've used, or the idea of coloured speech in general, I'll edit it back to normal.

 

[Snipehunt]

ooc - oooh, what a good idea! Wish I'd thought of it.

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

OOC: I love it too[/OCC]