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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3538406" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>"... amb de one-leggeb paladin says, 'Do nob desbair for be, sirrahb, for I dobst ribe sibe-sabble!'" Bufer grins and wipes the back of his hand across his runny nose as he twists around in the saddle to see the constable's reaction. "I cab'd beleib dobody's eber tolb you dad one beforb!" he exclaims. "Ah, id's fuddy 'cause id's drue ..."</p><p></p><p>"I will take it as a blessing that I could not understand the joke," the constable says, riding hard for Foxton on Moss.</p><p></p><p>The journey causes Bufer no end of alarm as he holds on to the saddle pommel for dear life, wincing against the sores that are already forming on his loins. Combined with the number his allergy to horsehair is already doing on his sinuses, it's not turning out to be his best night ever.</p><p></p><p>"Nnngh!" he says through a firmly clenched jaw. "Coulb we slow dowm a bid, sir? Id cam'd be safeb d'ribe dis fasd in d'darg!"</p><p></p><p>Bufer blinks and frowns at the unfamiliar trees that rush past him on either side of the road.</p><p></p><p>"Howb clode are be, abyway?"</p><p></p><p>The constable says nothing. Having one leg wrenched off below the knee in his youth by a vicious half-dragon has inured Ward Bridger to what he considers minor complaints.</p><p></p><p>He points with a raised chin at the lights of Foxton on Moss ahead.</p><p></p><p>"We'll stop at the watch tower by the inn first and tell them to be on the lookout."</p><p></p><p>When the duo arrives, however, they find only one deputy in the tower, the other saying there had been commotion at the inn.</p><p></p><p>With a growl, Bridger spurs the horse and soon spots one of the causes of the commotion: A partially torn rope made of bedsheets dangles from one window, above the inn's small attached stable. (A larger stable for carthorses is separate from the inn, as is a field for merchants' carts.)</p><p></p><p>"They're gone," the constable says with certainty.</p><p></p><p>"Hmm," Bufer sighs knowingly. "Thad's Tog's worg, alrighd. See how th'sheeds are double-knodded, so they don'd come apard? Thad's his sigdature, thad is ... Oh, hod fire below!"</p><p></p><p>Bufer hisses through his teeth as his squirms uncomfortably in the constable's saddle, then sneezes twice.</p><p></p><p>"Ugh," he groans miserably. "Whad dow, sir? Asg around? See if'd adyone saw which way they wend? I'm up for adythig, so log as id geds me off thid damb horse, sir."</p><p></p><p>The constable's posture suggests he's aware gnomish snot is making its way down his forearms in a sticky snail's trail.</p><p></p><p>"Yes. Down is good." He turns the horse back towards the guard tower after Bufer slides off. "I don't have much hope they saw anything, though."</p><p></p><p>Walking slightly bowlegged, and constantly wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve, Bufer questions every deputy he can find about the fugitives, furnishing a description of all three men in hopes of discovering which way they were headed.</p><p></p><p>He then wanders into the inn. Looking around to make sure the constable is out of earshot, Bufer questions the innkeeper and every member of her staff he can. Some things the constable doesn't need to know about.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 3538406, member: 11760"] "... amb de one-leggeb paladin says, 'Do nob desbair for be, sirrahb, for I dobst ribe sibe-sabble!'" Bufer grins and wipes the back of his hand across his runny nose as he twists around in the saddle to see the constable's reaction. "I cab'd beleib dobody's eber tolb you dad one beforb!" he exclaims. "Ah, id's fuddy 'cause id's drue ..." "I will take it as a blessing that I could not understand the joke," the constable says, riding hard for Foxton on Moss. The journey causes Bufer no end of alarm as he holds on to the saddle pommel for dear life, wincing against the sores that are already forming on his loins. Combined with the number his allergy to horsehair is already doing on his sinuses, it's not turning out to be his best night ever. "Nnngh!" he says through a firmly clenched jaw. "Coulb we slow dowm a bid, sir? Id cam'd be safeb d'ribe dis fasd in d'darg!" Bufer blinks and frowns at the unfamiliar trees that rush past him on either side of the road. "Howb clode are be, abyway?" The constable says nothing. Having one leg wrenched off below the knee in his youth by a vicious half-dragon has inured Ward Bridger to what he considers minor complaints. He points with a raised chin at the lights of Foxton on Moss ahead. "We'll stop at the watch tower by the inn first and tell them to be on the lookout." When the duo arrives, however, they find only one deputy in the tower, the other saying there had been commotion at the inn. With a growl, Bridger spurs the horse and soon spots one of the causes of the commotion: A partially torn rope made of bedsheets dangles from one window, above the inn's small attached stable. (A larger stable for carthorses is separate from the inn, as is a field for merchants' carts.) "They're gone," the constable says with certainty. "Hmm," Bufer sighs knowingly. "Thad's Tog's worg, alrighd. See how th'sheeds are double-knodded, so they don'd come apard? Thad's his sigdature, thad is ... Oh, hod fire below!" Bufer hisses through his teeth as his squirms uncomfortably in the constable's saddle, then sneezes twice. "Ugh," he groans miserably. "Whad dow, sir? Asg around? See if'd adyone saw which way they wend? I'm up for adythig, so log as id geds me off thid damb horse, sir." The constable's posture suggests he's aware gnomish snot is making its way down his forearms in a sticky snail's trail. "Yes. Down is good." He turns the horse back towards the guard tower after Bufer slides off. "I don't have much hope they saw anything, though." Walking slightly bowlegged, and constantly wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve, Bufer questions every deputy he can find about the fugitives, furnishing a description of all three men in hopes of discovering which way they were headed. He then wanders into the inn. Looking around to make sure the constable is out of earshot, Bufer questions the innkeeper and every member of her staff he can. Some things the constable doesn't need to know about. [/QUOTE]
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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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